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Kim Essary Nov 2019
How can it be that my heart aches for someone I’ve never met yet feel as if I’ve known forever.  
It’s as if our souls are attached through words typed and traveled all the way across the sea .
What is this, is it real, can it even be?
My friend lays in her bed only to await her journey to end.
As these thoughts race me to tears of the thought of her gone yet we have never even met
What is this, is it real, can it even be
A gut wrenching sadness that won’t go away, it’s as if I see her eyes I’ve never even seen and can feel her pain and her sadness as she lay in her bed to meet her fate,
What of such a force that is between us could allow this bond of two lives yet my eyes have never met her existence nor hers have met mine
What is this, is it real, can it even be,
Is this woman from across the sea my angel or am I to be hers, for we share so much likeness in our lives and things of our past and agree of things of this world most know nothing about,
Whatever it is or how it was meant to be I feel her in my heart and know she feels me
Whatever it may be it is more than real until we meet one day, I will always love you my friend across the sea.
This poem is the second I’ve written and Dedicated to A woman I met here on Hp one we can all agree is a loving soul with words that inspire all she knows. This woman is an inspiration to me  I Love You. My Dear Friend, Kim Johanna Baker
Momoir Jan 2019
Forge a destiny
and just let go of any
                       of my negativity
Listen
           Please
                       Please
                                   Listen
What rolls off of my stupid tongue
is never meant to cause
You're better than that
                       you are so loved
and along with your lows
there will be highs
and balance is the right

Nothing more
Everthing less
INTENSE
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
the insane pain
that just never
relents
i love you
but before you became my world
there were things
that i became enslaved to
and i'm sorry
but you're still my heart
my love
the one real thing
i cling
to for hope
helps me cope
makes me believe
i don't
need
the dope
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
Got so much stuff
                       penetrating my brain
Activists, blacktivists
                       my little girls pain
                       that I have caused
                       her pause to success
Stop the blame game
Prepared instead for the
                       sweet accolades
                       of your future around you
Life is short
Make it easy as you can, love

I can sit here all day and night
                       to tell you why
                       to stop dwelling
                       and start loving
But then I get so mad
                       when you can see me
The opposite of what you should be

Freedom is not a word
It's a choice
You've got it
Use it
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
Just one piece,
to contribute to this fabulous, wondrous world

Something to treasure
Something to remember

A piece of music
A picturesque piece of art
Save a life
Give some hope
To capture a smile
To the heart of another

Just to give,
is my only endeavor

Take all you want from me
If it makes you happy
That's good for me
The missing piece
From the puzzle of life
Lies buried an hidden
Down in the core of my soul

Where my heart beats vigorously
And seemingly endlessly, though potentially
Trying to expose to my brains
Stubborn ego

The creativity that lies within
Buried and hidden
In the core of my soul
My good ol' soul
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
Please don't call me to tell me nothing
When I ask you where you are,
I don't want to hear "somewhere"
When I ask what you're doing
I don't want to hear "something"
Keep in mind that I did not call you,
and if I had it would be for a purpose

Your elusiveness evades and insults me
If you have no trust in me as a friend,
Then why do you call..
Out of boredom of loneliness?

I know you are aware of my feelings,
Are you aware of how tender they are?
These little things to you...
are all so big to me,
I take it all so personal

No more can my precious heart bare burdens,
I'd rather not hear you call at all and just miss  you -
rather than be taunted and haunted by you

If you are my friend,
Then trust me,
I can take you further than you have ever been in your life,
I can make you hear the stars not just see them in the blackened sky
I can show you the choreography done in a flower's dance.
Rather than just see a flower and smell it,
I can give you special magic,
If you have faith in me
And bring you closer to your material needs...
Push you towards your goals and help you achieve them...
And take NO credit when you attain them,
With me by your side... Be assured that you will attain them
My drive is unsurpassed no matter the mountain...
I can climb it...
I've done it for myself, soared with the eagles,
Only after slinking with the snakes and sinking with the lures of life.

Now it's only my pleasure to serve others,
If you have no trust in me, no faith, no belief...
Then I cannot make magic for you, nor bring you relief
from troubles sorrows and pain, nor show you how to enjoy and embrace the rain and terrain of life...
So you can hold fast to the good things when they come.
I have no way to prove to you what it is and what it's all of.

I can only tell you that my loyalty does not come easily
Nor in abundance,
But if you have it, which Paul, you do indeed,
then stop and listen to the music of the stars
watch the flowers dance...

And know with confidence that whatever your cravings on this silly earthly plane are... that your goals are achievable with me as your friend.

And if you choose another path
And choose not to trust me
Then don't bother me
There are other people
That can utilize this unique potential of mine
So all I'm asking is...
PLEEZE, don't waste my time...
Written by my mother for my father,  May 9th 1995
Momoir Jan 2019
The ****** is in hospital with full blown [illegible] one year later
One year ago today
I killed the rose
Because something was wrong
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
A SINGLE yellow rose
tipped with pale burgundy
scented with the bitter sweet
from being plucked too young
STRONG PENETRATING THORNS

******, halcion, alcohol, tuinal
CRACK *******

A ****** sweats on the ragged black leather couch
sick, whining,
in the dismal grey vampire apartment

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is wrong

Good! You're home with the outfits
there's a knock at the door
Good! the stuffs here
let's drown in the chemical reprieves
because,

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is so wrong

The relief sets in fast and I can relax a bit
Hey, where'd the rose come from?
"IT'S FROM ME BABE, HAPPY VALENTINES!"

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is desperately wrong

IT'S TIME FOR ME TO leave, I KNOW THAT I MUST go
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 2019
Money;
So temporal
helps us forget our morals
The damage it causes
contracts & clauses
people starving while others feast
without conscience, the evil beasts!!
That is the preoccupation in our world

Money;
confusing, making life all
twisted & twirled
Surely you can't compare it
To Gods eyes in the stars
His heart, the moon, sweet sister
Moonshine
Guides us in such a tormented world at such a darkened time.

Can you buy the sun?
Can you purchase the planet of love?
No,
But you sure do your best to pay for this destruction above

Money;
a horrid corruption
when all we really need is love
Written by my mother, June 1993
Momoir Jan 2019
I can write you a song
                   or a lullaby
Fill your heart with fury
Or fill your eyes
with tears
                   little one
Whatever comes outta
                   my fateful
                             mouth
I can slow down
and write what I mean

I love you
I'm proud of you

And in those awkward
silences
At times I blurt
                   something stupid
like a stock ****
Pump start the conversation
                   ease up the awkward silence
Watch the fight begin
                   in observation
**** my spoken word
and love what I do mean
Child of mine
What I mean
                   is I love you
                                      so so much
                                                            ­ (I know)
Written by my mother, date unknown
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