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It was more than love -
A love beyond limits...
They were the first to discover
This newfound emotion,

It wasn't from this world,
It was divine - It must have fallen
From the heavens
When the skies opened;
There must have been
A titanic galactic explosion.

This newfound emotion
Rained down upon them,
That very first night
That their eyes met,
As they both gazed up
To the brilliant pure-white stars,

They were pulled together
By a magnetic energy,
They saw more than love light-up
In each other's eyes -
This was when
Their two worlds collided;
This was when
Venus fell for Mars.

By Lady R.F ©2016
the night’s unfamiliar
shiver of last leaves
from trees silent
as frost.
the world is gold
and bronze.
the shadows melt,
flame, bend, unwind
discover still currents
of dark earth
where the sleepy
stream murmurs
that the moon
is a ghost of
that her midnight
streams are
the strangest of
Marian Kutra Dec 2016
Up on a lighthouse,
kissed by the rolling waves,
a young child is gazing at the stars,
while his dreams become alive.

Sudden moves carve in his eyes,
so quick do they seem,
so powerful and moving,
as if in a dream.

He tries to reach the stars,
which he so eagerly observes,
a futile try in the end,
for he can never reach the birds.

He sits down absent-minded,
so desolate and shocked.
His dreams were crushed to smithereens,
in his eyes he's lost all hope.

There by chance,
he fortunately lowers his gaze,
and catches there beneath him,
the blue rolling waves.

Then his eyes lit up,
as if a fire was ignited,
as if hope he regained,
with the fire that he started.

No more he would reach for the stars.
No more would he want to fly aside the birds,
he would live in this Earth,
the life he deserves.

*It is foolish to reach for the heavens,
when you still haven't explored Earth
  Nov 2016 Marian Kutra
Terry Jordan
The first thinkers were poets
Naming Mother Earth
Beginning symbolic thinking
Of nature, death and birth

Though themes are often repeated
Love, Beauty and God
Poetry in the guise of Religion
A prophet or a fraud

The poet resurrects the Primitive
Through allegory and similes
Disarming the unknown like explorers
Sublime Prophets and Visionaries

They must lay bare those treasured images
That must be expressed
Unraveling and revealing the sounds
At each soul’s behest

Encompassing the entire Cosmos
So lyrical the beat
The poet’s excitement flows outward
Laid at the Reader’s feet

So original, individual
She won’t examine or explain
Letting go the festering feelings
Disturbances in her brain

He exposes his dark, wounded psyche
Just to release and express
Such capacity to see and compare
Hyperbole at its best

I love, I hate, I suffer
A special dance in rhythm and rhyme
The poet as a buffer
Lessening the pain and sting of time

Laden with symbol and feelings
She gives you sweet relief
From something urgent, revealing
Confusion to belief

Through a cinematic kind of seeing
The poet purges to transform
By leaping through Alice’s looking glass
She never was one to conform

Quite intolerant of convention
Just like The Mad Hatter
His passions immune to all logic
In syncopated patter

Jamming up the poet’s mind
Struggling for expression
Seeking order out of chaos
An infantile regression

Cleaving to his imaginary world
The poet breaks out into words
Creating sound paintings to be unfurled
So his own agony is blurred

She succumbs to storms of passion
With instinctive techniques
Rhymes and rhythm still in fashion
Out of hand flows mystique

The poet mines from his unconscious
The Reader is not blind
For every single line and symbol
Means something to the mind

Causing an inner liberation
Enlightenment or flight
It is a matter of life and death
When darkness turns to light.
Been working on this piece for a while; my thoughts on the inner mind of poets.
Marian Kutra Nov 2016
As I sit while watching the sky,
my imagination glorifies my desire to fly.
I lean down on this ancient tree,
watching the birds as they fly worry-free.

I watch a brook as it slowly flows,
its cold water completed by a crystal glow.
I feel its coldness seep through my skin,
a coldness purer than the arctic wind.

I see the Sun slowly slipping away
going back to its everlasting grave.
I'll see it tomorrow high up in the sky,
revived again as it watches the birds fly.

I see the grass as it hides the Earth,
covering it up as it gives birth,
to the countless miracles we call life,
then cutting them away like a merciless knife.

I feel the wind flowing through my bones,
giving me company as I sit alone.
It has flowed endlessly as the eons go by,
accompanying the birds as they soar across the sky.

I see the clouds covering the sky.
I see them hiding the unreachable heights.
I see them pour rain and fire,
their profoundness something we're bound to admire.

I see fields of grass
and buildings of glass.
I see fire and rain,
pouring down with nothing to gain.

I see animals
living their life.
I see them fight
to live another night.

I see myself living worry-free,
lying down on this ancient tree.
I see myself watching the crystal skies,
reliving again days and nights of life.
Marian Kutra Nov 2016
Every day and every night,
reminiscing about the past
Remembering the good old days,
when I used to sit at the glades

The grass brushing my feet,
like a blazing heart full of greed.
My creative heart would be lit
entering with the shadows in the words' pit.

My heart trembled by the mere sight of it,
the shadows' heart was everlasting in its pit.
Nights went by in a flash,
all the days looked like a mad dash.

Running through my life like this,
has made me lose quite a bit.
A lot of hours spent learning,
everyday spent burning.

Hours upon hours of work,
forgot to even look at the clock.
So busy forging a career,
forgot to care about anyone I hold dear
Marian Kutra Nov 2016
As I lay down in this prison bed,
patiently waiting for my skin to shed,
I recall the memories of life,
memories that are long gone along with my might.
I wait patiently for death to take me,
eagerly waiting for the end that I can see.
I see darkness and light alike,
for I was blinded by fate's might.
Slowly I close my eyes that cannot see,
to imagine the things that could have been.

Now my consciousness drifts away,
yet I feel I'm wide awake,
I can hear the drifting snow,
I can see the energy flow,
I can feel the light pass through,
I can smell the tea that's just been brewed.
Yet I'm slowly drifting away,
growing weaker everyday.

I recall my youth,
when I was a pitiful boy,
unable to have a life,
for I was somebody else's toy.

Later in my life,
I decided to change,
wanted to clear up the shame,
I'd brought upon my family name.
I married to a wife,
not to have a lonely life.
I had a bunch of kids,
who I could give my inheritance bit by bit.
But they all died in strange ways,
it's the Gods' will,
what can I say?

Now I stay here all alone,
all my grandchildren think I'm gone.
But I'll shortly be on my way,
I just had these things to say.
Goodbye everybody I'll soon be gone,
heading for another dimension,
hopefully it won't be too long

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