Raised with violence and harsh spoken words
She embraced fairytales, roses, and romance
Always seeking the different and absurd
It’s better than performing a cruel dance

Fantasy led her down the path of pain
Where self-hate and ignorance reigned supreme
Unable to cope, she felt quite insane
But that’s what comes from living in a dream

Tired of the dark, she sought a new path
Self-reflection led her to face her fears
And slowly her inner pain and deep wrath
Left, leaving room for hope’s light to appear

Still, she embraces roses and romance
It’s better than performing a cruel dance

Kelly Rose
© February 7, 2017

Catching a glimmer
Of distant dreams
In a photograph she found
Lying between the pages of
Her favorite book of poems
Through a distant lens
A backward glance
She sees it…
A reflection of her life
In black and white it speaks
And frames for her the picture
Of a life that might have been
Slowly, a tear escapes
As she ponders all it says
This teller of lies
Filtering truths never told
Of a past disguised
A pain so strange
Inside her arose
Holding her transfixed
By this portrait of old
The outward reflections
Of this life-altering moment
She now uncovers
The truths never told
As the lies unfold
Then, in a moment
Her choice is made clear
This flash from the past
Brought her life into focus
Through she may shed a tear
For what might have been
She knows deep within
She would not alter
Her past life’s album
Nor the choices she made
…when

Collaboration between Kelly Rose Saccone and SE Reimer
© February 6, 2014

Sitting in the park one day
Watching my thoughts cast adrift
I was graced with a strange view
Ghosts of the keepers of history
Revealed themselves to me
I heard the distant cry
Of the Ravens’ caw
Desperately seeking to
Impart their wisdom.
If only one would see
They’d know the
Lessons of his story

Kelly Rose
© February 1, 2017

I yearn for your touch
To be held tightly
Within your grasp
So I may stroke
The blank page before us
As my ink expresses
Your thoughts
and splatters your emotions
Across blank's page
Please hear my cries
And clasp me in your hand
Oh, just image
The magic we create
If only....
How I yearn for your touch
Defeat your writer's block
and see me yearning for
Your touch

I crave for that dance,
You, sweetly entwined betwixt my fingers,
Filled with the ink of enchantment,
The delicate nib are your lips,
Adorning your sublime silhouette,
Let me move you in cursive swirls,
sprinkling all the letters,
Forming a beauteous verse of love,
Dancing upon the stage of paper,
How wondrous is the fact,
That you fathom my inner being,
And splash it upon the sheets,
Like pearls from a sentiments' string,
Help me rise again,
From all the worldly pain,
I lovingly desire,
Your touch......

Collaboration with Shilpa Sandesh
(c) January 31, 2017
Kelly Rose
Shilpa Sandesh

The poem on the Statute of Liberty

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus (November 2, 1883)

Young love,
Bitten by the Rose’s thorn
Giving the lovers’ their first blush
Powerful imagery stirring memories
Of first love, of true love

There was a time when
He would have suffered
Her pain as his own
So connected were they
That even in dreams they were one

Sadly, Rose’s thorn
Left its poison behind
And betrayal cut
Deep and true
Its ravaged scars
Leaving an indelible stain
Upon their souls

Bonds torn asunder
Young love’s blush
Turned scarlet red

How I yearn to warn the lovers
Of the Rose’s devious ways
Slyly infusing their love
With betrayal’s bitter pain

For in that moment
When they thought
Love was won…
Well, I guess that’s why
First love’s wound
Colors forever one’s love

Kelly Rose
© January 27, 2017

This poem was inspired by an image - The Thorn by Charles West.  Here is a link to the portrait is you wish to view it.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:CharlesWestCope-The_Thorn.jpg

Words
     Rendered
           meaningless
Spoken softly
Or harshly
No longer do they
       M
       a k
       e
         se..nse
What infuses meaning?
Fact?
Emotion?
Words
        Fall
             O
           f
              f
Leaving the sentence bare
No longer understood
In this mad crazy world

Words
       Rendered
             Meaningless

Kelly Rose
© January 26, 2017