Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014 · 1.2k
Ali
Paul Morgana Jul 2014
Ali
We met in the SICU at BMC,
A wondrous Islander, its simple to see,

She nurses with ease and comforts the sick,
Skilled in medicine, I laughed at her shtick.

Needs glasses to see and thinks she's a nerd,
Cool is her look, I'd use no other word,

To describe to the world, this sparkling light,
She brightens a room and makes you feel right.

Short of stature, but strong as a tree,
Boosting my patients and helped me to see,

Where essentials for the job could easily be found,
Always a smile on her face, she never frowned.

I got to know her during our 12 hour shift,
She loves to read, so I shared my gift.

I red her a poem and she dug all my rhyme,
The shift was near over, flying was the time.

During my travels, many nurses I've met,
None quite like her, that's a sure bet.

My time at this hospital has come to an end,
Her name is Ali, Godspeed my new friend!

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jun 2014 · 834
Summer
Paul Morgana Jun 2014
The weather is hot, inside you're not,
Winter is no more.
Days are long, people feeling strong,
Fun you have in store.

The A/C on, when family is gone,
Electric bills do rise.
Turn off the juice, start cutting loose,
Outside there are blue skies.

The days are long, come sing a song,
At last the summer's here,
Clean up the porch, light a torch,
And have ourselves a beer!


Let'***** the beach, and we can reach,
Our skin a golden hue,
Dig in the sand, with my bare hand,
Rainy days I am blue.  

Biking in the park, we'll have a lark,
Riding here and there,
Meeting friends, it all depends,
Which direction you do bare.

Look to the right, he's flying a kite,
A friend from years gone past.
Summer is best, giving you zest,
Reminisce and have a blast!

Let'***** the links, your swing it stinks,
Your buddy doesn't care,
That one fine shot, will hit the spot,
A good time you will share.

Out on a boat, around we'll float,
Let's cast our poles and wait,
Your line is taught, I think you caught,
The big one's on your plate.

Concerts in the park, start after dark,
Bring your favorite date,
Hear the sounds, good mood abounds,
Romance it does await.

Not all fun, work must get done,
The yard it begs for time,
Needs some seed, water and ****,
Fertilize and lime.

Cut and rake, your back will ache,
Stop to have some lunch,
Work is done, time for fun,
Invite friends, let's have brunch!

Baseball season, is the reason,
Some couples get a divorce,
Games every night, causing plight,
Loneliness is the source.

At summers end, this message I send,
The season hurry back,
Winter, spring and fall, keep them all
Next to summer they do lack.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Jun 2014 · 1.6k
Fireworks
Paul Morgana Jun 2014
Civilized mankind has a unique way,
To party and celebrate a most special day.

Potassium and sulfur, mixed with some coal,
Can reduce a mountain into the hill of a mole.

Gunpowder is thought to have China as a start,
Ceremonies commence, fireworks a part.

I always thought, it amusing to find,
Warfare and festival are two of a kind.

Powerful explosions that disable and destroy,
Have the ability to give the masses such joy.

Here we go, let the bash begin,
Guaranteed to give, your face a grin.

Let's add some luminosity to this summer blast,
Firecrackers and sparklers make the jubilee last.

Pinwheels are nailed safely to a tree,
Furiously twirls colors for all to see.

An aerial assault aloft, hear them roar,
Yellows and greens, in the air they will soar.

Flash flaming fluorescence, blue and red,
Envelop your eyes, dancing in your head.

See the trail of a missile, zipping in flight,
Shiny illuminations, all through the night.

On the ground at the end of a fireworks show,
Blazing stars and stripes, a flag created, watch it glow.

The fourth of July is America's time,
A birthday blowout, drinks with lemon and lime.

This frolicking is filled with food, family and fun,
Independence day, I wish it never was done.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Apr 2014 · 959
Charlie
Paul Morgana Apr 2014
The sixties changed our countries ways,
Gone was the time of June Cleaver days.

Vietnam and protesting, divorce and unrest.
Family's unraveling, that era's not the best.

Out around LA, communes were in vogue,
Welcoming all, the beggar, thief and rogue.

The one commune, around Topanga town,
Was home to a family, that brought the world down.

Charles Manson, and his motley crew,
Were plotting and planning horrible things to do.

The drinking and drugs, had warped his mind,
The war was coming, the world in a bind.

Gathering arms for the fight of their life,
Blacks vs Whites, getting ready for the strife.

Funding is needed, for any good war,
Arms and supplies, always needing more.

So after a party, featuring mind altering drugs,
A robbery was planed, the family now thugs.

The first attacks, were directed at those,
Oblivious to Charlie, they had no foes.

Sharon Tate was a pregnant Hollywood beauty,
An aspiring actress, she was a real cutie.

Watson and Krenwinkel and other sick folk,
Tortured and killed, with a fork they did poke.

A horrible crime, what were they thinking?
Even lower they dropped, their ship kept on sinking.

The LaBianca castle was next on the list,
Beaten to death, with a hammer and a fist.

San Quentin and the gas chamber, to be their fate,
Sentences commuted to life, the reaper must wait.

To collect up those souls, and bring them to hell,
God may be forgiving, but this horror doesn’t sell.

Manson and his cronies must remain locked away,
New souls for the devil, in hell they will stay.


Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2014 · 1.1k
Naked
Paul Morgana Feb 2014
When it comes to the matters involving the heart,
Emotions are powerful and can rip it apart.

There's nowhere to run and no place to hide,
Love tears down the walls that we call pride.

Anything you'll do to be loved in return,
Deal with cruel treatment and a voice that is stern.

Love knows no rhyme and has no reason,
You need them close no matter what the season.

It leaves the heart naked and defenseless to attack,
No weapon on Earth can push your love back.

Why do humans need love? The question is profound,
When the love is returned, there's no finer sound,

Then pillow talking after ******* is done,
That's the time to watch the rising sun,

And bare your soul to your husband or wife,
Make plans for the day and enjoying your life.

Look into those eyes whether brown, green or blue,
Knowing that person is in love with you.

The naked heart is natures only way,
To assure you're sincere, and here to stay.

For if anything covers and hides back the heart,
True love will be missed, and never can start.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2013 · 1.2k
Christmas
Paul Morgana Dec 2013
Bows and ribbons placed on gifts,
Uplifting holiday, your spirit it lifts.

Another birthday celebration with cake and candle,
Depression rates high, holidays are hard to handle.

Family and friends like to get together,
Tends to be cold, beware snowy weather.

Drinking some cheer and eating your feast,
Stuffing with side dishes, turkey the beast.

Trimming a tree and placing lights on the house,
Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

Saint Nick is coming, he lands on the roof,
Slides down the chimney then suddenly ****!

Presents are stacked, up high as can be,
Barely can see the lights on the tree.

Santa has eaten the cookies, and drained all the milk,
Mom got diamond earrings, and a dress made of silk.

This sounds like a scene, from a Rockwell play,
Easy to loose sight, of what were celebrating today.

The birth of the greatest man on the Earth,
Read the Bible, miracles show his real worth,

Worried and cared about every living soul,
Love and good wishes he did easily dole.

Born in poverty, his first bed was a manger,
In thirty three years he would be in real danger.

Those years he spent, spreading the word of God,
Be of good faith, before your laid under the sod.

Love and cherish each other, and this place,
Ascending into heaven, sharing my fathers space.

Everybody enjoy Christmas, a great time of the year,
Happy birthday to Jesus, his spirit is still here!

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2013 · 753
Eyes
Paul Morgana Dec 2013
The emotions of man are easy to read,
They glisten and shine, never a need,

To ask your friend, how does he feel,
I'll give you a clue, here's how you steal,

And know exactly, what's in his head,
Can't hide it from you, until he is dead.  

Don't need to be Bond, a secret service spy,
Just get close to his face, peer into his eye.

The eyes are the windows to the soul,
See tempers get hot, and you may loose control.

Sadness is seen, clear as the sky,
The loss of a loved one, why now did they die?

Happiness comes as the eye starts to glean,
No mistaking the look of it, can't miss its sheen.

Anger it rages, the eye may turn red,
Body language will show, what lurks in their head.

Love is another, not easy to miss,
May lean close to you, and give you a kiss.

Some of these emotions will mix in your eye,
Like happiness and love, it may make you cry.

Sadness and anger, may travel in sync,
You'll see them at bars, pounding a drink.

A student of man, I always do look,
At a persons eyes, can read like a book.

People will try and hide how they feel,
I look at those pupils, and I know what is real.

You may ask yourself what's the purpose of this?
Prying into emotions, can make some folks hiss.

I like the plain truth, found in the eye,
Can't be lied to, I never ask why?

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2013 · 713
Assassin
Paul Morgana Dec 2013
Born a human, innocent and young,
Night time his mother's voice has sung,

Sweet melodic songs learned in her youth,
What career would he chose, doctor, lawyer or sleuth?

Uncle Sam made this choice, against mothers will,
Drafted and trained, they taught him to ****.

Gunpowder and death, are the scents in the air,
Many miles away from mom's love and her care.

Common is this scene, man is weaned on war,
Happy is the day the fighting is no more.

But not this day, the bullets fly,
Bombs explode, and men will die.

Special forces have trained this boy well,
His future is set, his mind placed in hell.

Countless incursions behind the enemies line,
An Assassins life is always in a bind.

Given a target, nothing else in his head,
I can't go back, until my mark is dead.

His time in the service has come to an end,
Many targets erased, on a plane they will send,

Him back to mother, innocent no more,
A dark dank distance, for mom is in store.

For many like him, the story ends here,
Lost and alone, his nights filled with fear.

But not the special forces, a letter will be sent,
An opportunity awaits, that will pay all the rent.

We have a position, and qualified you are,
Your records from the service, indicate you were a star.

Come to Washington, see if the jobs OK,
The letters return address, was marked CIA.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Sep 2013 · 1.3k
Linda
Paul Morgana Sep 2013
(This is a true story)

Working in the ICU, on the graveyard shift,
Paul here's your admission, into bed we must lift.

I had overlooked the name while taking report,
The past was calling, she was an old cohort.

My beautiful Linda, five years together,
We'd still be a couple except for her daughter Heather.

I couldn't win over the child, tried though I might,
She wanted her father, always an uphill fight.

So my friend, my love, my perfect mate,
Parted company, feelings of pain and sorrow, never of hate.

Time marches on and the years rolled by,
Less were Linda tears shed that I needed to dry.

Back in the ICU, esophageal varicies was her fate.
Alcoholism eroded her neck veins, death couldn't wait.

She looked up at me, smiled and said,
I never stopped loving you, always in my head.

The ***** helped dull the pain and regret,
Without it your recollection did constantly beset,

And into my life left a gargantuan hole,
Not just in my body, into my eternal soul.

I have to go now God's calling my name,
As she grabbed my hand her strength did wane.

Great efforts were taken, for life we do strive,
Compressing her chest didn't keep her alive.

Prepared her body I did clean and did wrap,
Placed her into a shroud, my strength this did sap.

I finished my shift and went on my way,
Her sweet warm memories caressed me that day.

Dearest Linda I hope you found peace,
My love for you never will cease.

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Sep 2013 · 1.6k
Mine
Paul Morgana Sep 2013
You've been mine for a thousand years,
Through a mountain of problems, and a river of tears.

Living with me isn't done with ease,
But I'll never stop thinking of ways to please,

You're corporal self, this is sheer delight,
Folly and frolic until late at night.

The emotional needs I can handle my sweet,
Versed in Maslow and Erickson I'm ready to greet,

And make you feel safe both night and day,
Feelings never faltering, hear my words say,

My love I'm committed to your every desire,
It's not just my *****, but my soul that's on fire.

Each time that I gander into your soft eyes,
God calls your name, I peer up at the skies.

The rainbow of colors seen after a rain,
Include the color of your eyes, they drive me insane!!

The warmth of the sun shining sultry on my face,
Similar to the nights snuggling on our five by seven space.

The gentle movement as the clouds roll by,
Is reminiscent of massage, that at night closed your eye.

Even the falling raindrops landing tender on the land,
Compares to tears of missing you, wiped away with my hand.

I'll give you my all, refusing to fall,
you can't deny what you feel,
My pretty child, you drive me wild,
your emotions I don't need to steal!!

Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Mar 2013 · 769
Easter
Paul Morgana Mar 2013
Easter time is for rejoicing, dead and risen,
Not just Jesus, but those stuck in prison.

Actual bars, or self made prison, we all bear a cross,
Jesus died on it, and was laid in the moss.

When bereaved friends came, to visit and cry,
What they would see would shock their eye.

Not just their eyes, but the whole worlds too,
Jesus was gone, body and soul had flew.

What's left was a rag, they had placed on his face,
He had died without money, a cave was his place.

And risen he did, way up on a cloud,
While angry at man, of his son God was proud.

The death of Jesus, is a symbol of life,
When we leave this world, with the pain and the strife,

So to our soul it will rise, and take wing,
And to the feet of God, will fly and bring,

The final judgment, from way up above,
Don’t be afraid, he is only pure love.

He won't judge you too harshly, his word is of hope,
Go to him quickly, take flight and don’t mope.

The creator and his son are waiting our return,
Of his name and his word, many people do spurn.

Science can explain, both of heaven and the earth,
Still I wonder about those, dose it diminish their worth?

When they spread the word of evolution and the ape,
Does God get upset, that his children should ****,

His actions and good judgment, and try to explain,
That there is no God, this must cause him great pain.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Mar 2013 · 1.4k
Spring
Paul Morgana Mar 2013
The calendar reads March, the winter is done,
Its time for the spring and all kinds of fun!

Work your body, as the days grow long,
Exercise your muscles, and get real strong!

Things come alive, trees start to bud,
Testosterone flows, men feel like a stud.

Women look for a man to provide,
Less clothes on the body, no skin to hide

Play ball! The baseball umpires cry,
A long fly ball, hit high into the sky.

Unstable weather, warm and then cold,
It matters little, this story is told,

About the season that is loved by most,
The days lengthen, and other things to boast,

Like the hockey playoffs, at Madison Square,
Turn on the TV and pull up a chair,

Watch the Rangers play and kick some tail,
When shooting the puck, they cannot fail.

The Knicks also are home at the Square,
For years, their playoff cupboard's been bare.

Things looking better, hope the veterans last,
A ring for the team, lies deep in the past.

Easter time occurs in the spring,
The son of God and strong feelings he brings,

The story does tell, of his death on the cross,
Mankind's big mistake, what a terrible loss.

All these good things, happen in the spring,
Nature smiles at this time, and we fly on her wing.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Mar 2013 · 2.2k
Shamrock
Paul Morgana Mar 2013
Another year, another Paddies day,
Here in New York, hope for sun to play.

So the Irish celebration, takes winged flight,
Green is the color in everyone's sight.

Parade in the street, down fifth avenue.
The master of ceremony, we don't know who?

But the master this day, stands as St. Pat,
Clad in green, with a leprechaun's hat.

Hear the bagpipes, the drums pounding loud,
This is the Irish day, to stand and be proud!

A Catholic holiday, dietary sanctions they lift,
Eat meat and drink alcohol, is the Popes gift.

What are we celebrating?  Let's take a closer look,
Power up the computer or crack open a book.

St. Patrick was born under English rule,
His family was clergy, formally educated in school.

Kidnapped by the Irish, and held as a slave,
To journey back to England he must be brave.

He returned one day to the Irish shore,
About the eternal Trinity, the Irish learned more.

A bishop now, native clove he did use,
To teach the Irish, about celestial clues.

About the father and son and the holy ghost,
The three leaves on a shamrock, they will forever toast!

The three leaves of a shamrock, and it's circular shape,
Are the same as God's Trinity, the logic you can't escape.

This is why the shamrock is so highly revered,
Wear one on your vest, or tucked into your beard.

Enjoy the day, celebrate with family and friend,
Toast to St. Patrick, may his legacy never end!

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2013 · 901
Dream
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
I had a dream the other night, guess who was the star?
Sitting in a smoke filled room, it was an old man's bar.

Drinking old man's drinks, made with scotch and rye,
What should I see with my bloodshot eye?

A beautiful girl appeared, and clinging to her thighs,
This skintight dress made all of silk, designed in just your size.

In her hand she had a smoke, and blew some in my face,
I tried to grab the dress in back, but couldn't get the lace.

Coughing and choking I looked at her, as she walked away,
I got excited watching her walk; her hips did dip and sway.

By now it's pretty obvious, member hard in my pants,
Walked right up behind her and asked, honey do you dance?

When finally I saw her face, much to my surprise,
Guess who was starring back at me, I wouldn't tell you lies.

My beautiful Josephine was looking in my eyes,
Silky blonde hair on her head, that dress grabbed her thighs.

She said, hey baby I'm standing here, will it take all night,
For you to come and kiss my lips, and try to get it right.

I laid my lips across her face and got a big wet kiss,
Suddenly my dream was done; I woke in the abyss.

Looking at the night table, what there should I find?
An ashtray with some stale smoked butts, happened to be your kind.

I got right there out of bed, and on something I did slip,
The hot silk dress I dreamed about, that clinged all to your hip.

Upon hitting the floor and banging my head, I heard a soft low voice,
Are you ok? She said to me, to answer I had no choice.

I'm ok love of mine, I'll come right back to bed,
When finally getting close to her, I kissed her on the head.

Was it real or did I dream, what difference does it make,
My loves warm body next to mine, her heart is what I take.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2013 · 1.4k
Presidents
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
Washington was the first, helped emancipate,
His skills as a leader, nothing less than great.

A founding father, during the Revolutionary war,
America's first general, British trouble was in store.

Crossed the Delaware, while the English slept,
On the Limeys army, his troops had crept.

This historic victory, both clever and tactical,
Thoughts of independence now were practical.

Now victory assured, not bowing to the king,
Colonists were free, here there voices sing.

George rule the colonies, we put you on a throne,
Let's start a new democracy, he said in a gentle tone.

Served as the president for eight strong years,
Loved by the voters, respected by his peers.

The next great man, to hold political reigns,
Was our counties leader, during the time of great pains.

Born in the woods, his character strongly built,
His passion for equality, never did wilt.

Families torn apart, North against South,
The Emancipation Proclamation, wisdom out of Abe's mouth.

The Civil War now over, abolished was the slave,
The social order of the States, beginning to repave.

Lincoln wasn't alive, to see freedom abound,
Shot by Wilkes Booth, the world mourned the sound,

Heard at Ford's theater, that fateful night,
His spirit is alive, it continues to fight.

For freedom and justice and the American way,
Both Washington and Lincoln are honored this day.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2013 · 1.5k
Stronger
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
You pulled me up and saved my skin,
Your voice it rises up over the din.

Good advice and fun we do make,
Villa Roma, a walk down by the lake.

I've never known such love and support,
My friend and lover, a total cohort.

Making new memories, day by day,
And wake together, at night we lay.

On our six by eight, on earth it's unmatched,
Strengthen emotions, relations are patched.

Little do we need to place a patch,
Emotions are strong, a perfect match.

Days turn to weeks and the months go by,
Feelings and emotions grow towards the sky.

This trip we are on, a short ride it has been,
The intensity heightens, I'm sure we will win.

Winning this game means together we stay,
Putting old troubles and relations away.

Spending my time, thinking how to please,
With you in my life, the thoughts come with ease.

More than ***, in love with her mind,
Sweet and gentle, caring and kind.

What have I done to deserve god's bless?
Her love grows stronger, even when I'm a mess.

Your presence is needed, without it I wilt,
A stronger foundation has never been built

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2013 · 3.6k
Daydreaming
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
Steamy hot lazy summer day,
Layin' around, not much to say.

No surprise and not by chance,
Is the thought of you in skintight pants.

Is it midday? It got real warm,
No, just a reaction to the upcoming storm.

Not here are you, but it matters little,
I will play my member, just like a fiddle.

My thoughts of you burning desire,
My manliness climbs higher and higher.

Sensual lips pressed up against mine,
Tasting better than a classic wine.

Your southern lips they burn like fire,
As I stroke them, soon we will sire.

I place my lips to the burning mound,
And kiss and tease, you fall to the ground.

I climb upon you and hear you say,
"Wait a minute, I have a better way."

You climb upon me and rock and ******,
Until my body turns to powdered dust.

We lay together and fall a sleep,
Secret is our *** I can keep.

The next thing I know I open my eyes,
And you are before me, to my surprise.

"Hi honey, how was your day?"
I grab you and tell you, "it went this way."

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Feb 2013 · 2.9k
Terrorism
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
People held hostage, always living in fear,
The barrel of a weapon, is always near.

Riding the train, a blood curdling scream,
A deafening noise, and a bright light beam.

A violent shock wave tears open your flesh,
The lucky ones, receive skin grafts with mesh.

Your arm torn off, artery bleeding is profuse,
A dying thought is, what was the use?

What was the purpose, to **** all these people?
In the name of Allah, perched on a mosque steeple.

Radical extremists don't care about life,
By murdering people they increase human strife.

Wasting resources, bringing the Earth gloom,
Look at faces on a plane, many filled with doom.

The last thirty five years I don't understand,
Middle Eastern countries, together they band.

Bringing terror and hatred towards cultures of the west,
We accept the need to feel your ways are the best.

Pray all you like, cover up a women's face,
Stop trying to change America's philosophy and place.

Once the oil is gone, and the land again bare,
Back to living in tents, flowing robes you will wear.

Your tactics are old, soon you may feel,
The burning of skin, this inferno is real.

A nuclear explosion will end years of frustration,
No longer putting up with terrorists indignation.

Revolutions reveal, the world ending in flame,
Enough with this nonsense, put an end to this game!

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 2.0k
Catastrophe
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Humans think they can move nature aside,
The earth laughs, it mostly will hide,

From people, pollution, and the mess we make,
Every now and then, nature's wrath we must take.

The wrath I speak of, comes in many forms,
A powerful hurricane, run fast from the storms.

A foot of water, the storm may send,
Fences and houses, you may need to mend.

Sandy's her name, just visited New York,
The day after, everyone's eating salted pork.

She flooded the streets, and turned out the light,
Happy she's gone, we bow to her might.  

Speaking of storms, here's one that instills,
Fear of death, down your spine feel the chills.

Look here it comes, from over the hills,
A tornado, is swirling, better make out your wills.

Destroys anything placed in its path,
Nature is laughing, now feel her wrath!

Many other disasters are waiting for men,
Happening all of the time, we know not when.

Look at its flash, a brilliant light,
A billion tons of earth, taking flight.

Heat that will turn, your body to dust,
Before you die, to see one a must.

Can you guess of the forces, to which I speak?
An A bomb? Next to this, an A bomb is weak!

A volcanic eruption, its power has might,
The sound of explosion, causes many a fright.

Boiling lava runs down the side,
Don't get in its way, nowhere to hide.

St. Helens erupted, many years ago,
Thought she was dormant, then decided to blow,

The billions of tons of volcanic ash,
Covered 2 states, car washes made cash.

Missing people are listed, in Washington State,
No bodies to find, disintegration was their fate.

To close to Mt. Helens, during her blast,
All families have now, is the memories of the past.

These are just but a few, of nature's way,
To show all you people, who's the master today,

And tomorrow as well, never shares the spot light,
Nature's in charge, her power burns bright.  

When the awesome power of the planet is displayed.
Hope today she is quiet, and catastrophe delayed.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 1.7k
Cindy
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Reading her bio, enticed by her verse,
Emotions run deep, often times terse.

Talent is obvious, click the poems and read,
Life hasn’t given her, what she really does need.

Spy between the lines, aching is her heart,
For one to protect it, not rip it apart.

A glimpse at a picture, black and white does her fine,
Joy at the sight, ****** features on which to dine.

Romantic and passionate, creative and fun,
Walking and talking, together in the sun.

So many questions, where do you live?
Other wanted to receive, but never would give,

Their mind and soul, feeling only your embrace,
Ultimately leaving you alone in your place.

Why must this happen, am I unworthy of love?
Hardly, look to the sky up above.

Waiting sometimes has rewards that are great,
From picking a career, to finding a mate.

I can hear in your words, and see in those eyes,
Your feelings abound, and are endless as the skies.

Alas the loneliness is full of strong power,
Patients is hard, your soul can turn sour.

Find a way to give love to those,
Truly in need, many in the throws,

Of unbelievable hardship, cold and distraught,
Reach out to them, with the kindest of thought,

Let them know, you really do care,
Smile and be gentle, do this and I swear,

Your body will be filled, from head to toe,
With gods pure love and the way he will show,

To others that feel, the same way as you,
Finding true love, no more are you blue.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 797
Beating
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Can you hear it, my beating heart?
Your love has pierced it, like a well-thrown dart.
It begins beating when I see you,
And when you leave, the beating is through.

Can you hear it, my beating heart?
Caressing my soul, my engines do start.
A powerful embrace, her wonderful voice,
To hold and love her, I have no choice.

Can you hear it, my beating heart?
Her skin tastes sweet, as a fresh baked ****.
Hard to resist, is her beautiful face,
I see it everywhere, my eyes I place.

Can you heart it my beating heart?
A rocket is slow, feelings right off the chart!
She talks, I listen, a great teacher is she,
I wonder why her love, is given to a wretch like me?

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 1.8k
Winter
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Wow, the weather sure is cold,
Days are short, the wind is bold.

The season isn't a favorite for sure,
Most in the cold, aren't begging for more.

This testament to the winter, is short and is sweet,
Its brutal cold, upon you does beat.

Begs for spring, and longer days,
And new found fun in different ways.

But back to winter, now let's explore,
Its wondrous beauty, many do adore,

The frosty nights, a blanket of snow,
Untouched and ******, a skiing we can go!

Take the kids to the local park,
Sleigh ride with them, a youthful spark,

May be rekindled, inside your soul,
This surely is fun, never is it droll.

Build a snowman, with coal and pipe,
He may come alive, frosty isn't just hype.

The alive that he comes, is not in the snow,
But in the hearts of the ones that help make him grow.

Spending time with the family, this bonding is good,
Feeling alive and well, with your family you should,

The wondrous winter, has the holiest of days,
A time to be kind, and have gentler ways.

The birth of the savior, the greatest of men,
His spirit reborn, and we all know when,

This holiday comes, its time be kind,
Good deeds and good thoughts, cover your mind.

The new year comes in winter, a time to start new,
Cast aside bad habits, and with them your through.

Good cheer and good times, and drinking some wine,
Kissing and hugging, and playing Auld Lang Syne.

Presidents day is a time to give thanks,
Lincoln and the north, and the fighting yanks,

Put an end to slavery, blacks free as whites,
Another century passed to gain civil rights.

Praise to Washington, the first to lead,
Our country from Britain, his troops had freed,

The people of the Colonies, America was born,
Plains full of plenty, many acres of corn.

Valentines day, the time for romance,
Put yourself out there, ask a girl to a dance!

The celebration turns history around,
Originally on this day, many bodies were found,

Dead in a garage, in the Chicago town,
The pictures are gruesome, bloodstains on the ground.

These are the times in winters' cold,
That have special meaning, and memories they hold.

Look kindly on winter, its end will bring,
A time of rebirth,  known as the spring.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 1.4k
Birth
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Both parents together, intimate we know,
Delivered the package that started your show.

Millions of visitors, with every shot,
Only one found its way, into the right spot.

Grow and divide, a zygote you be,
Doing it right, someday strong like a tree.

Living inside mom's uterine wall,
Totally dependent, make sure she won't fall.

Placenta forms encasing the egg,
If its a girl, her name will be Peg.

Umbilical cord forms from placenta to me,
A network of vessels carry nutrients to thee.

Things all in place, first trimester is done,
Growing and listening and having some fun!

Learning the sound of moms beating heart,
Already in the family, now playing your part.

Rhythmic and soothing, loving the sound,
Moms gentle voice, you will always be bound.

To answer her call, even late at night,
When her voice is silenced, its a terrible plight.

Amniotic fluid helps you float around,
Spot feels babies presence, you first here his sound.

The water has burst, head against bone,
Mom you ok? I'm hearing you grown.

Stop squeezing my head this is causing me pain!
What's up with this pushing, muscles spasm again.

Turn off the lights, this stimulation can wait,
Getting me warm, this feeling is great.

Hello there new person, I give you my heart,
Hi mother mine, hope we're never apart.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 1.8k
Cars
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
America is large, with much flat land,
The perfect landscape, to maneuver with one hand.

When first discussed, with the powers that be,
Attempting to finance, sheer folly, show me.

Mr. Ford why place capital with you,
Funds are short, and it sounds untrue.

How it will move, what power source?
No muscles working, what to come of the horse?

Like all great inventions, it was met with scorn,
And like many great men, in poverty he was born.

The automobile was well on its way,
To worldwide use, hear the people say,

Look at its lines, and pretty curves,
It handles the road, Oh how it swerves!

The ford plant was started, and soon on its way,
To stimulate economies, and create jobs that would stay,

For a hundred years, and maybe more,
Fords  assembly line opened the door

For the steel and tire plants, production was good,
Let's open this hatch, and peer under the hood!

Look at the engine, explosions inside,
Controlled and in unison, that make the wheels ride.

Gears that help, make the car move,
Shifting them can make a man groove.

Add lights and a roof, more time to spend,
Inside its beauty, the message will send.

The Auto can make the country great,
For goods and supplies, we need not wait.

A variation of the car, the truck was made,
Moving mountains of products, it sure made the grade.

An infrastructure is needed, let's pave the land,
Construction is booming, to cover the sand

And make the way, for the car to take,
People away, from the home they make.

And visit others, living far away,
Called a vacation, at a hotel we can stay.

Without further delay, I could explain,
The auto's workings, with detail and with pain.

So instead of the detail, it suffices to say,
The auto revolutionized our world in this way:

Making commuting to work, from far away,
An easier trip, in the suburbs we lay.

The beach and the mountains, easy to see,
Hotels and new towns, into existence they be.  

More fun into life, leisure time will be added,
The nations economy will be largely padded.

The innovation of the car, is not only grand,
It has forced mother earth, to take a harsh stand.

Climatic changes, and temperatures rise,
Greenhouse gases, are these things wise?

Will the planet survive? Humans in peril,
Poisons and toxins, may cause us to be sterile.

Disease and death, like cancerous lung,
Bittersweet is the song, the car has sung.

Make your decision, please choose a side,
Either walk with your feet, or get in and ride.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 845
Frenzy
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
My red hot passion over the top it boils,
Our bodies entwined, like DNA coils.

Can't tell where I left off, and you begin,
Loving you so, the world it does win.

Makes us better to our fellow man,
Helps me to be the best that I can.

Loving you makes me soar above,
Take flight on the back of a winged dove.

Touch you again, your heart burning with fire,
Desire uncontrolled, reaching higher and higher!

Sweating and dripping, the sheets are a mess,
Still half on your beautiful, silk laden dress.

I love the feel of the dress on your skin,
Consuming my soul, I'm placing it in.

Frenzied love making, my ardor it burned,
Around the bed, new moves I have learned.

Finally placed you under my spell,
Your spasming body, turned into gel.

The madness is passing, get closer and hold,
Give me you body, your soul you have sold,

I have the contract, you've signed on the line,
Let's have another go, I'll make you feel fine!

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 2.9k
Choices
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
In the great scheme of life, many choices you make,
Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake.

The game of hearts is not quite the same,
Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim.

Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good,
Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood.

Once per chance the target is hit,
They may be charming, attractive and full of wit.

Only the lucky lovers get this type of win,
The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin.

Never knowing what's in store for you,
Loving arms and a partner that’s true,
Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you feel blue.

You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot,
Having *** day and night, you love them a lot.

This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side?
Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides.

The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash,
She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash.

Coming home the next day, a smile on her face,
I saved money here, and there, and this place!

What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money,
Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey.

The men are no better, their tempers get hot,
Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke ***.

One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight,
He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait.

We had some good times, but the end is the same,
Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame.

Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell,
Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell.

You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate,
Just want a good friend, not a women to hate.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Jan 2013 · 817
Armor
Paul Morgana Jan 2013
Her heart I'm told, is covered with steel,
A product she says, of many a raw deal.

So begins the process to heal,
Began already, we had our first meal.

As happiness begins, away with the steel
Love replaces metal, the heart again can feel.

Take care to those that melt free the heart,
If damaged again it may break apart.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2012 · 2.3k
Girls
Paul Morgana Dec 2012
Did nature make anything more beautiful than a girl?
Silk hair bouncing, the ends have soft curl.

Skin as smooth as the pedal of a rose,
Eyes enchanting, never want them to close.

Two lips enticing, watching them move,
Silky red lipstick gets on my groove.

Some women's lips, they like to pout,
When laid upon you, you may want to shout!

Subtle curves, all down the neck,
Smooth and appealing, it makes me a wreck!

Continuing south, we stop at the chest,
Round and firm, I like them the best.

Stand and salute, point towards the sky,
Kissing and fondling can get you real high.

The back and the stomach can be overlooked,
Sleek and shapely, my hands in the nook,

Of her lower back, both seductive and hot,
A little further down, is an erogenous spot.  

Her sweet tender box, the ultimate prize,
To kiss and caress, brings tears to my eyes.

Inject into it her prize, throbbing manly delight,
Making love to a woman is a wonderful sight.

Pushing and grinding, the sweat on the ground,
Tape your love session, it's a wondrous sound.

The question remains, words soar and they swirl,
Is there beauty on the planet, that compares to a girl?

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2012 · 1.1k
Satan
Paul Morgana Dec 2012
Beelzebub is just one name,
What they stand for is all the same.

Cast out of heaven for not following the rules,
The bowels of the universe, molten lava for pools.

How does it feel to burn night and day,
Or is freezing cold, truly hells way.

Are you alone, I would say no,
But short of souls, definitely so.

God gives his children the chance to repent,
Until the last moment, the reaper is sent.

I'm sure you throw parties, good times do abound,
But never again to hear harps sweet sound.

It may be a sin, but I pity your soul,
Only you have the power and total control.

Over dank dark places, no one wants to live,
Why not ask god, to look fast and forgive.

He is a great being, full of wisdom and is just,
Forget all the struggles, in the past they are dust.

Let him know over is the war,
Souls you'll release, and torture no more.

Pray for forgiveness, I know he will hear,
It may take a while, even several year.

But god loves his flock, and Satan its true,
Scream to the heavens, and no more are you blue.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2012 · 3.0k
Dogs
Paul Morgana Dec 2012
Who is the one, that always greets you,
Happy and friendly, in humans so few .

His anatomy differs, from humans for sure,
Yell and scream, he'll come back for more.

Big or small, it matters not,
Panting its tongue, means he's hot.

Tail wagging fiercely, true to his mood,
Loyal and trustworthy, and often times lewd.

He scratches and licks, whenever he please,
These may be signs, of infestation with fleas.

Have you guessed yet, of the species I speak?
A canine of coarse, some scary some meek!

A wolf its thought his ancestors be,
Domestic now, his spirit still free.

Just watch him run and tear out the door,
The outdoors ingrained, they always need more.

Time in the wild, to sniff and run free,
They know the location, of every tree.

Be smart or dumb, it matters not,
Unconditional loyalty is what you've got..

Rich or poor, your dog doesn't care,
Short or tall or what you wear.


They give you love, asking little in return,
Just food and drink, you may treat them stern.

And still a dogs master, is forever his chum,
Even if the master, to his dog is a ***.

We humans with all are gadgets and IQ,
Can't match the canine's ability to be true.

Let's take a lesson, from mans best friend,
Love and loyalty to others, is the message to send.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Dec 2012 · 1.1k
911
Paul Morgana Dec 2012
911
Look up in the sky, planes flying low,
Crashing into buildings, not where they should go.

Pilot error it was thought, during crash number one,
Then a second collision, made the people run.

New York under siege, an attack by the air,
The snake named Bin Laden, who else would dare?

The trade towers stood for many a year,
At the world's financial center, did terrorists leer.

The world watched, as the towers came down,
A huge white cloud, and a thunderous sound.

The finest and the bravest, lost their lives,
Calls made, to the husbands and the wives,

We have bad news, your love one has died,
Out of the rubble, their body was plied.

There life it ended, in towers one or two,
Many lives ended that day, others were just through.

What of the workers, looking through the rubble,
Years down the road, the death toll would double.

From sickness and disease, contracted at ground zero,
Families can't survive on the memory of a hero.

Many years have passed, freedom tower erected,
People stay sharp, terror must be detected.

And wiped out completely, US leads the way,
But for now on your knees, and everybody pray,
For the souls we lost on that frightful day,

Ask God to relieve, the pain that day brought,
Renew peoples hope, give direction if sought.

Visit poemsbypaul.com

— The End —