Cné
In my most desperate need
seek out a bush by a tree
rewarded with a rash on my rear end
relieving, with a squat, by poison ivy

No thank you, I will take a chance
in hopes of saving my ***
and hold it until I just can't
and avoiding a nasty rash
even if it means ....
I will possibly *** my pants

Temporal Fugue
*** the least of your worries
as your bladder will expand
making you make decisions
not all that good, or planned

So make your place
and keep your wits
bear, what you can stand
drop your drawers and hold your ****
and ***, as god, demands

A new day has dawned, the clocks have changed
Lost an hour sleep, and my body found it strange
Now on daylight savings time
Confused this wee mind of mine
Why not leave it alone, it confuses people's brains?

A leprechaun told me, “I hear
It’s riches you’d like to appear.
Since I don’t exist,
My *** of gold’s mist —
You’d better keep writing, my dear!”

Grief's canvas stretches wide and bare
A blank slate waiting, with no one to share
The brushstrokes of memories, once vibrant and bright
Now muted and faded, in the dark of night

The paint of pain, a deepening hue
A color that clings, to all I once knew
The strokes of sorrow, bold and free
A portrait of longing, for what used to be

The process of healing, a slow reveal
A layering of emotions, a complex feel
The colors of love, still shining through
A radiant glow, in all I once knew

The subject of my heart, a beloved face
A masterpiece of memories, in a sacred space
Though faded and worn, the love remains
A portrait of devotion, through joy and pains

The final brushstroke, a gentle touch
A whisper of acceptance, a heart that's too much
The portrait complete, a story told
A testament to love, that never grows old

In this masterpiece of grief and love
I find solace, sent from above
A reminder of what was, and what will be
A portrait of devotion, for all eternity.

Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at the feet
And blooms that scent the night and day
Would steal a heart, then fade away

With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills an addled head
Then turns to dust before the eyes
Leaving naught, but sad surprise

Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong an offered hand

Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear a cheek

Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to ***** and blind the eyes

years ago
i was consumed
in the deep abyss of depression.
i had been there before
and had always managed
to dig my way out.
but this time i got lost
in a maze, each turn dragging me further
into Hell.

so many unresolved thoughts plagued
the chasm of my mind.
i wanted to die,
not to **** myself,
for i couldn't be that selfish
to hurt my family in that way.
but i prayed selfishly
to be put out of my misery.
a prayer i felt unanswered
for months on end.
i tried to hide
this darkness
from those closest to me,
isolating myself.

in a defense mechanism sarcastic tone,
i smirked to a friend
that all i really wanted
was peace.
she encouraged me to pray.
i responded honestly,
"i'm not sure prayer works for me
because i've lost faith."
as if God only answers to those with faith.
she told me
that i might need to see results to believe
but that i should
give it a shot anyway
and stick with it.
i brushed it off.

the next morning,
i woke up with my normal
(worse than normal, at that time)
negative thoughts, you're ugly, fat, unworthy ...
(that's the censored, more kind version of my thoughts)
to which i argued in my head,
be kind.
silly i know.
then my friend's words resonated
"give it a shot."
so i quickly prayed a simple prayer for peace
in my mind, body and in my soul.
of course, i didn't feel any different at the time,
but i drug my heavy laden body out of bed.
forced myself to workout and went to work.

my first client that day was new to me.
hiding behind my work mask,
i presented myself professional
with my usual introduction.
she returned the favor
with a look of odd fascination.
so i continued with
"have i worked on you before?"
hoping i hadn't absentmindedly
not recognized a former client.
she responded "no, but you are Liz, right?"
i confirmed and proceeded to my room.
after scoping out the surroundings,
she commented on one of my paintings
on the wall, of an Angel.
it's an abstract.
some people don't see it.
then she asked ...
if i was a believer.
caught off guard
i responded "excuse me?"
she said, "do you believe in Jesus?"
not accusatory or even with aggression,
but a simple question, with dancing eyes.
i said, yes, more out of fear,
with my current frame of mind, at the time.
i was fragile and trying desperately
to hold it together.

i left her to ready herself for therapy
and took the opportunity
to regain my composure,
securing my guarded mask.
when i began therapy
she sighed and said
"i felt in my heart
that you were the right therapist for me,
because i can feel your kind heart."
i asked "did someone refer you to me?"
with suspicion, and narrowed eyes.  
she responded "no. Jesus gave me your name."
she told me how she relied heavily on prayer
and that brought her to see me.
i **** you not.
i brushed off her words
as any sane
(even in depression)
person would.

she was not easy to work
as a large body
that was hard as stone.
but my thoughts began to shift,
i swallowed an emotional lump in my throat.
in that moment, i realized,
i felt privileged to be working on her,
for her to have sought me out
on a quest from Jesus, or so she believed.
a peace i'd never experienced before
washed over me, cleansed me, anointed me.
in that moment, i felt clean, light.

afterward she gave me a huge hug
with an exaggerated pause
and whispered in my ear,
that prayer was the only reason
she was alive.
it felt like no other hug i'd received before,
so tender, sweet and sincere.
so i asked myself
"was this a sign?"

from that day forward,
i found my way back.
navigating the maze.
it didn't happen all at once
but each step, each turn
lead me out of the abyss of darkness
and toward the light of harmony and peace.
and though, i still slip occasionally,
i recall that spiritual experience.

A mused thought from gossamer clouds
painted beyond the realm of reveries
of lust, lost in the ecstasy of dreams.
A stolen moment created false memories.

Entwined in labyrinth, I found
fuel of his visions. the sacred place of we.
A captured moment, vaulted deep in mind
only borrowed, like dreams that seep.

Briefly for a time, from whence it smoldered,
a stolen moment never to be ours,
lines confused, shared words, as visions blurred
he disappeared not to linger within the hour.

So short the day, so long the hour
a stolen moment, a heartbeat
unrestrained in erupting desire.
A stolen moment, bittersweet.

eyes of ocean blue
grayed by darken skies cry rain
drown in flooding waves

Your
Sultry
Eyes speak of
Impulsive thoughts.
Combine together
As one, our lust and love.
I hear my name unspoken
In your warm unwavering gaze.
Pressing kisses taste of surging need;
Awakening wild passion within me.

the moon falls asleep
dreaming of when she will meet
the knight of her dreams

Be my muse tonight, my love.  
Inspire me in my dreams.
In poetry, I'll think of you
where starlight always gleams.

As Morning Glories catch the sun,
I'll capture you in rhyme.
My heart will sing your praises
while you make my spirit climb.

The raindrops are a mockery
that try to match my tears,
which fall like diamonds on my cheeks
each time our parting nears.

Your eyes like pools of amber
often take my breath away.
Your lips demand attention
and my ardor doth obey.

Be my muse tonight, my love.  
Ensnare me with a kiss.
Enslaved my heart shall ever be
a prisoner of your bliss.

Sitting on a ****
Having a rest
Dreaming of wearing
A beautiful dress

Hair cascading
Red curly locks
Waste of time, who cares
There are no clocks

Awaiting a happening
With nothing in sight
Mischief merriment
Anything, even a fright

Breena, bored to death
'Tis true
Wanting only,
For something to do.

My mind to frolic, with words of Frost
Slides between and then is lost

Drifting ‘round to fellows long
My thirst is deep; desires strong

Filled with all that Maya says
Flits in and out my meddling head

And ah, when Pablo speaks of love
My heart's aflutter with pure white doves

Around the beat, who else but Poe
A deep dark place I've come to know

I stop to ponder the words worth
As if I've nursed them from their birth

I settle to hear the rambling brook
Where Gwendolyn baits my eager hook

Then ‘long comes Oscar, running wild
I listen like an eager child

When Langston paints his colored hues
His canvas fills my point of view

Not just the finest spinning me
To this state of flux and reverie

For verses drift from near and far
Forever reaching for the stars

Feeding on the gentle night
I languish in the word's delight

Finding rhyme from ‘neath the skin
The place where passion's settled in

To fill my cup, appease my soul
Till hunger's sated, fat and whole

The empty space behind my eyes
Is filled with life's sweet lullabies

And when at last, I lay to rest
I'm filled with cadence of the best

Much has been said
against me
however,
I will not be spiteful
or allow hatred,
the beast of darkness
that resides
in the black jungles
of arrogance
and ignorance,
to infect me;
for that is no reason
to give way to anger.
So I refuse to let anger
ugly my heart;
for anger
is the scorpion’s poison
of peace
and love, it’s sunlight.
I choose light
contentment and happiness,
as poetry’s not a contest
of winners or losers;
it is the essence
of a poet’s soul.

I take up the gauntlet
Wrestling you, word and rhyme.
Posturing my play afforded,
For a mental good time.

Tatting for ***
This-ing for that
Battling your wit
Prose-ing a chat.

No way to win,
Enticing it may be.
The towel I throw in
You will always beat me!

Endearing is the moon tonight
and through its silver glow,
She whispers secrets of the things
that only she could know.

Of lover's trysts on summer nights
of kisses ‘neath her smile,
Of secret murmurs begging "friends"
to stay a little while.

Of sweet caresses cherished
in the fog of memories,
Of moonlit walks in arbors sweet
'neath swaying groves of trees,

Of shadows cast by clasping hands
of hearts that feel desire,
and unrequited love
               that feels like death
                              from friendly fire.

Of promises in passion made,
with no chance to fulfill,
Of loneliness, of happiness,
of parting's bitter pill,

She whispers of the romance,
of the love that's hot and cold,
Like love that loses passion
but sustains us getting old.

She passes in the evening sky
and frolics with the stars,
And leaves this mortal on the porch
to mend life’s wounded scars.

Yet, never does she realize,
the secrets that she'd shared,
Are common knowledge
                         here on earth,
where love has all ensnared.

I sit and read the HP site
and observe a teardrop's course
Engaged in deepest revelry
and when it dies, remorse.

I listen to the rustle of the rhymes
in swaying Poetrees...
And revel in the sweet caress
of every whispered breeze

The sweetness of a sentence
every stanza, works of art
The rhymes that touch my soul
and lo, the rhythm that beats from heart.

The lullabies so sweet and soft
that gentle me to sleep
The love tributes, as I nod off
while counting them as sheep.