I never knew I could love, Love.
B/c as a young girl, Love was..
Daddy’s anger flashing before our eyes.
It was all the lies,
That we insisted on living by.
Like “sometimes you need tough love”
Which usually consisted of..
Beatings for hair brushes left on the kitchen table.
It was Ma’s love for alcohol that made her unable,
To love me..
They way I thought I should be.

It was the rule “out of sight, out of mind”
That always tried to turn a blind...
Eye to the things that never really felt right.  
Trying hard everyday to hold on tight. 
Like those weave braids that I loved to hate,
B/c the gripping pain kept me up late.
I never dared complained,
B/c I learned early that beauty was pain.
& my hair was to be a crown to a queen,
Taking the spotlight from all insecurities seen..
B/c let’s face it , middle school boys can be mean.
Always mocking my “white girl” name,
Digging up my dirty shame.
Then here came,
The “hot boys” that was full of game.
Always playing w/ my emotions,
Inviting drama like I ain’t already live w/ commotion.
Like I wasn’t already,

“If it don’t apply, let it fly”
Cuz Mama said, “never let em see you cry”
But to be honest I was a bit confused,
Then again, slightly amused.
B/c I was taught boys are mean when they like you,
I learned early being hurt was something to value.
One day Ms. Jackson told me “pay em no mind”
But I thought it was only right that they’d, KISS MY BEHIND.
I said nothing cuz I knew to stay in a child’s place,
Letting my frustration take me to a make-believe  space.

Where there I could fantasize how it feels,
To be head over heels.
For someone who,
Doesn’t have to...
Live 2 lives w/ a chick on the side,
That’ll turn into Aunt E keying his ride.
Damn, there I go again , running my big ole mouth,
Telling people “what goes on in this house”.

It wasn’t long before I caught..
On to the idea that love wasn’t what I thought,
B/c this Love constantly resisted & fought!
It too didn’t seem,
To want to be loved by this thing..
Called Love .

Then came the moment when lost, I found,
The most beautiful sound..
Of a heart beat living within me,
I was chosen to be..
His mother, & learn of everlasting..
Love that has been contrasting..
My views everyday.
& I must say,
I was going the wrong way,
Tryna find where Love stay.
& all along it’s been within me,
Both figuratively,
& literally.

It was a blessing when me & Darelle’s world clashed..
Together. & Together we smashed..
Down every figment,
Of what I thought Love meant.
Or should I say what Love was ..

Now, Love is,
My heart beat syncing w/ his.
Replacing my dark days with light,
Love actually feels right.
It flows out naturally w/o trying,
Taking away my every breathe w/o dying.
Life is renewed within me..
Every time I see..
Kamari’s beautiful face,
Watching his incredible soul fill up any space.
& let’s face it,
I got to admit..
Know that I know,
What I know..  
I love,
The son's eyes set low as green felt feigns grass stains.
The son does not cry at the father's funeral. The son
holds them in.
He, the son, is now a rung higher
and lower. Simultaneous promotions and
disappearances. He is the last line.

The son does all the planning. For the day of,
the week next.
The month's end, and the bills due.
The son does all the fathering that the father
has now left behind.
He is now a caretaker. A husband to two wives,
and his.
The son and the father
were not strong in their love.
Not a single day.

The son will find humility where once was cruelty.
Where once was impulse he finds patience.
Where once a sinner comes anew virtue.

The son is now a house where once was a home.
The son is now alone.
watching a friend mourn a sudden loss, perhaps paying too close of attention

Be well those of you suffering in the summertime
Your the oldest out the group
Senior coming thru
So your wise
You seen all the seasons
For any reason
But your roots are dying
And you starting to cough
It’s from all that sap you hold
But you so bold
So just suck it up and go gold

I have fallen now on my own
Shinny red fresh and crisp
One bite can curl a lip
Fill any hunger  
And make you want my last drip
But the sun beaming
Got me heating
So I hope I get eaten
Not so they survive
So my seed can stay alive

My tiny little seed
Out on the green
I fade away while your bass
Comes in so keen
Like I’m on lean
Stuck in my disillusion
That the world is chooses
So abuse what I knew of life
Please reach out to the drunk old tree
I not he is sappy but he keeps leaves
So my seed grow
and be a big tree
And guess what you might
be orange
Over me
Kaitlin Evers Jul 31
You draw me gently near  
Letting me know I have nothing to fear Your touch soothing as a breeze
You've set my beating heart at ease

But before I was so close to you
A bridge had to be set
To link our great divide
Yes it was you
Who paid my debt
And sent Your Son who died

It was Him they did seize
When it should've been me
Twasn't but ordinary fees
But still You thought it worth your Son to save humanity
Kim Essary Jul 31
As the time to your freedom is drawing near,
I'm faced with excitement, joy and much fear.
It feels like a lifetime has passed since you have been away.
Things out here are changing more day by day.
I cant wait to see you and hug you tight.
I just hope and pray when you get home you live your life right.
I pray the choices you make are completely thought through.
That you come out with more knowledge and wisdom of what not to do.
I have aged 15 years in the 3 you have been in.
I can't wait to see you close this chapter of your life son and let your new life begin.
23 years old and lived a hard life I can only pray the lessons have changed the way he makes decisions for the rest of his life
Farzaneh Qaf Jul 26
When the Sogdian king, lost his son
Across the river, hands in hands with step mom
Step mom told the king:
"Big cat fish ate him! King"
Crying to death
Regreting his wealth
No food many days
Tried many ways
Calling out for guards
Searching every yards
Paying the temples
Ignoring gambles
Bending to his knee
Praying to the sea
Asking for a sign
Hope to see a line
Old monk saw him sick
Told him: "go and pick
Best fishing hooks there
Try to saile the river
Find the Big Cat Fish
Get him to a dish
Cut his stomach
Imagine it's cake"
After all of it
Cat fish escaped it
Turning around the boat
Calling out : "You Goat!
You're wife killed your kid
So kill her! Indeed!"
King was deadly shocked
No mercy of God
Rage was his weapon
To kill this dragon....
" wish I was no king
Could have my son under my wing"
That's what Said the king.....
Karu Kapi is an old Sogdian Manichaeian story, which I made a poem of it, the original ancient text is in manual Sogdian book by prof.Zarshenas. Sodian were one of the middle/ancient Iranian tribes
They were known for trading goods over the silk road
They had sharp hats and they were mostly Buddhist and Manichaeian
Those days Turks were using Sogdian as language of commerce
Location: from nowaday Uzbekistan upto Xinjiang province of China
Farzaneh.Qaf,M.A Scholar of Historical Linguistics
rob kistner Jul 26

it is this time every year
perhaps coaxed by the warming breezes of spring
that a flood of recall is unleashed

smell of leather oiled in neatsfoot
clatter of wooden bats in a canvass bag
scrape of metal spikes on concrete
snug feel of the ballglove
tuggin’ on the cap
rollin’ the bill just right

smoothness of the cowhide sphere
firm grip on raised seams
click and clack of the catcher's gear
cheers, jeers and sometimes tears
right foot on the rubber
excitement of taking signs
leg coiled for delivery
the hey batter batter
pop of the ball in the pocket of the mit
or the anticipation of an onrushing grounder
relief of snagging one in the webbing
launching the throw across the diamond
shielding my eyes in a high sky

feel of polished hardwood
crack of the sweet spot
exhilaration of connecting solidly
breaking down to first
taking a good lead off
soft slide into 2nd base
the thrill of swiping successfully
the joy of crossing home
my teammates in a dog pile
sweet sweet exhaustion
knowing I left it all on the field

your arm around my shoulder
the pride in your eyes
real root beer
at the real soda fountain
with the team after the game
riding home on the tailgate
of our old Edsel wagon

it is every year at this time
that I think of all of this
that I think of you dad

how you wanted me to try pro
how the scout felt I had the arm
it is the path I didn’t take
you never made me feel sorry

thank you for these memories
thank you for your love
you were my solid rock
in a storm-tossed sea


rob kistner © 2008
Love poem to my adoptive father. He was a blue collar worker, a foreman of the maintenance department at a major chemical company. I rember him picking me up as he came home from work. He would raise me high in the air, then he would motorboat my belly.
The feel of his cold stubbly face on my skin, the smell of chemicals on his clothes - these are, to me, the sensations of genuine love, a love I will never forget. My home life was not at all the best, but dad was my rescue, my champion.
I miss the man everyday since he died of a massive heart attack in 1983.
He was my safety in a tumultuous home. Shortly after he died there was a massive funeral. Full church. My dad was beloved. I loved him dearly!
The sun sang a love song in Spanish that sun-lit summer I met your dad.
Those days, ladies walk with their leg closed until they met their husbands.
You are pronounced pure if those succulent moons on your chest stood firm.
You will be called a saint if you knew nothing about sex.

Your dad was just becoming a man when I met him.
My father won’t call you a man until your bushy chest grow trees.
Your dad words are entrancing, it can make a fish want to swim in steaming oil.
I gave him my heart, the day he said I will forever be a virgin,
If I read that book written when people love.

Son, virginity is a virtue you must value.
A foundation for marital trust.
But, don’t think that all the journey takes.
You need more than a piece-of-flesh to build a lasting home.

If apostle peter said to you faith add
Then to your virginity add common sense – wisdom
Remember Folake, the garden between her was vandalized
Like her, many a lady is victim of circumstance.

Know the difference between real virgins and technical ones.
You can commit sexual acts without intercourse.
You don’t have to dig a hole in that bloody soil before you defiled
Many are running to hell thinking they are dancing at the gate of heaven.

In marriage, faithfulness to your partner is the synonym to virginity.
What kept me pure before marriage is keeping me purer after it.
Your dad took the emblem the first night we meet,
But that inner virtue – virginity is still intact.

Son, I am still a virgin
The poem is about a mum talking to her son on the real meaning of virginity
Carnivorous fruit from uneartly plants!
Adults pumped into the children!
Murderous clouds in the sky!
They've created a million ways to die!

Eating you through the air!
Eating you through the water!
Eating you through the edibles!
Eating your sons and daughters!
Neuvalence Jul 14
Father! Father!
I called upon your name
You heed not as days wane

Father! Father!
How long we've played this game
Where you've ran with no shame?

Father! Father!
Years after my youth waned
Why han't you call my name?
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