Her

She was
a shy, sensitive
young woman,
with small
hands and
lean, long
fingers that
beautifully
graced the
pencil as
she wrote
poetry, or
rather, the
whispers of
her heart
within her
small leather
notebook,
whenever
she became
curious, her
dark, lustrous
brown eyes
would glimmer
in fascination,
her entire world
would become you,
she was not
particularly
beautiful
but her heart
was pure,
she would
remain hidden
through her
poetry
as though
she was
listening to
classical
music,
the streams
of violins
are the
winds
tousling
her midnight
hair,
she was
a dreamer
of the night,
though
quiet
In her
demeanor,
always
deep
In thought,
perhaps
trying to
understand
and shape
you, or
thinking
about the
simple
beauty
of the
moment,
she would
see the stars
when everyone
walked past,
to appreciate
what others
could not see,
as a light
hidden
among the
leaves,
she was
the depth
once unseen,
now clear to
the one who
came closer,
she would
place her
palm on
her fair
face when
deep in
listening,
as if it
was, the
painted
portrait of a
poet,
she always
held a cup
of warm tea,
being content
In her recluse,
until she would
look into your
eyes, and
you saw
through
her
soul

Terry Collett Jul 16

I am as nothing, said Xenia,
A leaf on the wind or twig
In a flowing stream. I am
A candle in darkness, a
Flickering flame in wild winds.

I am one who kisses frogs
But never find my prince
Just toads or bums or
The left overs from whore's
Game. I am the dreamer of
Lost dreams, the sleeper of
Disturbing nights, the sad
Insomniac of long cold times.

I am a lost lamb of a long
Dead shepherd, my mother's
Kisses disolve in space or
Time's locked rooms or
Life's cruel games or mind play.

I am as putty in a fat man's lust
His plaything in the sordid bed
He plays out in his sick head.

I am candle, I am leaf or twig,
I am lamb  of a dead shepherd
In a windy night on a lone shore.
I am a wound and an open sore.

Sad woman's blues.

okay, so i was the other woman.

okay, so i can’t call it that. so we were never a thing, never a label, never announced. so she was the pretty one and i was the booty call. so i was never your first choice but i was, for a minute, your second.

okay, so maybe it started as cheap entertainment on the nights beer and phone calls weren’t enough and distance got the best of you. maybe i loved you then but i think i hate you now.

okay, so maybe i don’t hate you. maybe i’m just trying to pretend we never happened because maybe if it was all in my head i’d be over it by now. maybe i’m just tired, okay? of being the back-up girl. of being the one who stays, who breaks, who sits in the basement of a burning house just to feel the carpet one more time.
i just don’t want to burn anymore.

Ryan Holden Jul 13

Every whisper,
Is an explosion,
Every tear
Is a tsunami,
Every touch
Is a pin prick,
All because
You're the abrasive,
Yet benign woman
That I need,
to keep me
On the tips
Of my toes.

chipped tooth Jul 13

Who are you, a Man?
A God fearing creature made in the image of God,
And like Our Lord, you are surrounding
Even when I hide from you.
For whom his own Ego are the gates of Heaven-
God, why are you afraid?
That I may not love you how Eve loved the apple.
What is my pleasure if it cannot please you,
But you shall be appeased in knowing that my love is fruitless
By design.
As though I'm the Virgin herself, crack my rib
And tell me that no woman deserves your Son
Who cannot sacrifice her heart
to a Man of God

Shall I die this time?

She said yes
And no and mostly no
She lifted up her dress
My crying eyes aglow
Within stove wood burning
Melting all the snow

Tell-tale churning
I am doused in whale oil
And my blood cells sing
Impeccable timing
She just came and killed me
Spirit rising
I robbed my own tomb
In a dying lighthouse
Leveled lanthorn room
Deep sleep depraved
I will fall in stasis
Through an ancient cave

Nishu Mathur Jul 12

Don't judge me by my looks
And don't read me by the books
I am brash and I am kind
I am hard to define.
I am bold. I am shy
I am grounded, but I fly
I love, and I give
I cradle, I forgive
Though soft I may feel
I am thunder, I am steel
I am smiles and I am laughter
I am happily ever after
I am tears and I am ache
I am a mess when I break
I hold tightly, but I know
When it's time to let go
I am dove, I am hawk
I am the rose and the rock
I am rain. I am sun
I am I. I am woman



Thank you all so much xx

Dearest everyone, thank you so much for your likes, loves, reposts.  Thank you so much for all your wonderful and encouraging responses. This is a small,  simple poem and I wasn't certainly expecting all the attention it has received. I am grateful to all of you talented poets and readers. I am so happy that it was chosen as a daily - it's a wonderful feeling. Love to all.

I am also very thankful to Conrad Druger van den Bergh, an excellent poet and wonderful friend who inspired this x
Alienpoet Jul 12

Woman, your beauty hides your brilliance
You have to be resilient
To survive in a world stolen by men
Even when you are the closest thing to god.
Woman, you are maligned
Hidden by religions veil
They tell the tale of Eve throughout time
The sinners tale
Original sin another story to enslave
Don't they know a mother's wisdom can save?
A man from falling fruitless from a tree
Hanging desperately.

Bri Love Jul 10

So hard to find
during the summertime
One of the sweetest things
I'll probably never get to know
I dream about it, sing about it even write about it
Blackberry Loving
Only a black woman and black man can have
Sweetest gift to know each other
Strongest bond to reach for
Something I only wish for
Blackberry Loving at its best

black love
Terry Collett Jul 10

Miss Pinkie stood
at the open window
of her apartment
looking out
at the night sky.

I lay in her bed
watching her
naked form.

We had made love
an hour before.

Can't sleep?
I said.

Too hot to sleep
she said.

I watched her
49 year old body
she was my senior
by 19 years.

Her hair dyed blonde
was over her shoulders.

Mahler's 1st symphony
was playing softly
on her radio.

Does your mother
know you come here?
She asked.

Yes of course
I said
but not what
I do here.

She turned
and looked at me
come see
these stars
she said.

I got out of bed
and walked over
and stood beside her
at the window.

She named
the constellation of stars
pointing them out
with her plump finger.

Pascal said
the eternal silence
of infinite space
filled him with dread
I said.

Who's Pascal?
she said
one of your
intellectual friends?

No he was
a French philosopher
I think
I said.

Beautiful though
she said
I love night watching.

We stood watching
the sky
a while
then returned to bed
and made love again.

The Mahler
symphony ended
then came the rain.

A YOUNG MAN AND OLDER LOVER 1973
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