My best friend, my soulmate,
You are the love of my life,
I cannot wait until the day
You make me your wife.

The effervescent shadow,
That a beautiful soul doth cast...
I dive deep thou it's shallow,
Soak it in ,it will not last...
Poignant rays of light,
Flashing, spraying,screaming
Blinded by the sight...
A nano second in real time,
Lasts eons within ones mind...
The beautiful soul the rarest of finds,
It's essence breathed in,
Devours the pain of life's rind...
Be lightened,be freed,
Because in it's presence, we shall no longer need...

Life is always calling me,
      but I just put  it on answerphone..

"This is my message,
        
"We are shooting stars,
                          always falling,
"But I know she will capture me,
         before my ashes dim,

I will never answer life's calling,
             as I have found
it falling into her.

Well great goodness, where on Earth do I start?
The Garden of Eden  … or the bottom of my heart?

How can I make this as honest and heartfelt as I can?
How would I share with every woman in the world, the emotions of every man?

Yes, we hold them in. It's about pride. It's about standing tough.
But you'd really not have us any other way … you love to polish what's rough.

And we really love you, make no mistake, to you we are forever beholden.
We'll not forget those meals and those band aides and all those clothes gently folden.

You taught us to tie our shoes and look after our sisters and brothers.
And that unless we are standing for something correct, we must always be kind to others.

From you we learned that women are our partners, other halves and mothers-to-be.
Which leads my poem in another direction … as I continue my praises with glee.

Our wives took up where our mothers left off and carry our hearts in their hands.
They made us soup when sick, bore us amazing children and walked beside us in the sand.

They undressed us when drunk, both for fun and when it was needed.
And stood understanding when we failed miserably, as their warnings went blindly unheeded.

No matter our place in failure, glory or fame, they were always standing by our side.
No matter our outfit, five o'clock shadow, even our beer belly …
they always stand there with pride.

And in the brave new age, where we all live, they now do things so amazing.
They race cars, cure diseases, head up companies and set many trails a blazing!

What would we do without these women from our birth to our end of days?
How do we love them, now and forever?
You simply can't count the ways!

If luck knocks on your louvered door you will have a chance to fight your enemy. You will stand up like a crackerjack prize and pay no mind to the man that broke your backbone.

Into the windowless courtroom you will trek. People lined up on hand carved benches, staring with unaroused expressions, waiting warily for their names to be called.

You feel your breath halfheartedly fill your emaciated lungs with foul and cumbersome air as you survey the miserable scene and avoid locking eyes with the man that was disguised as your one true love.

You wear a band of rubber which you snap on your wrist at the first sign of weakness so you stay focused on the gavel’s exclamation.

He tells your long-lost spouse from another life with another wife that this is not Watergate and “I don’t recall” will not suffice in his civil courtroom.

His honor dishonors his woven white robe when he yells in your direction with agape red mouth and judgmental judicial tone. When the courage strikes your hand-stitched smile will widen with words and you will command an audience of perjurers who will point forceful fingers at their prior partners that used to be ******* lovers and now sit dead pan wantonly waiting to bleat themselves dry.

Slam the gavel while the corn cracks in the microwave bag until all the edges have been popped out and fairness has been forced through the funnel like liquid butter with a diet coke to wash it down.

You walk away, down the dark labyrinth of hallowed halls snapping your gum and tip-tapping your heels as you flee from the referee who does not understand your half eaten heart with the wiggly worm within its wind-up walls. He will pronounce your fate with a backhanded expletive and a muffled “adjourned.”

It was 8:45 after my bathe
I dried my *** and put my favorite moisturizer
Looking at my reflection I’m feeling ****
So I put red lipstick on and decided to wear my see-through lingerie

I went to distract my husband playing virtual game, PUBG specifically
He drew attention to me — his hand is caressing my face, you’re gorgeous he said
He then pressed his lips against mine and started talking...
Talking back to his playmates about what strategy are they going to use
So I went to bed to write this lol

An axe was put to a tree;
a sharpened tool cut,
causing pain.
Causing pain.

Blow by blow, that tree shuddered;
what once was solid and strong
became fragile.
The tree no longer had confidence
in being able to stand
straight and tall.
Too much damage
had been done.

I wish my hand
had never gripped
that axe of destruction.
I long for the tree
to be whole again.
I weep for what I have wrought;
my tears are not enough
to replenish the strength
of that beautiful tree
I caused to suffer.