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17h · 56
Annette 17h
against his chest
like a message in a bottle

she braved the ocean
that swallowed the titanic
1d · 88
i'm not...
Annette 1d
a softly twirling angel that
tumbled from the skies
with silky wings to grace my back
and from my shoulders flow

to gently touch my holy toes...

i can't be what i'm not

my broken wing with a smudge
of glue is far from pure or white
bright orange in a darker frame
the wing of a butterfly

and if you see me fluttering
it's not to reach the sky
i merely ache to softly kiss
a blue forget-me-not

sweet pleasures of a butterfly

for an angel...

      i am not
Annette 3d
i was given shoes

with a box of pain

and a note
'please choose'

i chose the pain
i thought would hurt less
but crumbled in the process

so i polished my shoes
to return to the path
i did not choose
with the pain I did not want

for somehow
my shoulders never fit the wings...

but my feet perfectly fit
the shoes
Annette Jan 20
when I woke up the clouds were pregnant
and I knew you had blown them
across the azure blue
to birth raindrops on my morning grass
and coo pitter-patter lullabies
on the rusty wheelbarrow...

and your voice and your touch
and every drop of golden sweetness
bottled in your soul dripped down softly
stirring my drowsy sleepy eyes...

nudging me to peek and smile
before I dozed off again

and I dreamed of you

of us
a beautiful rainy Saturday morning...
Jan 19 · 213
Dinner in the Arctic
Annette Jan 19
pappa bear growled 'who ate from my plate?'
baby bear squealed 'who ate from my plate?'

mamma bear gazed out on the
melted ice
felt the cold sun freeze her heart
so afraid...

glanced at the seal flipper in pappa bear's plate
the dead eye in baby bear's claw

concealed her empty plate with her paw

and whispered
let's say grace'
Jan 18 · 107
when our love died...
Annette Jan 18
the earth's interior did not explode unto the landscape
whilst spitting red lava and clouds of billowing dust
neither did steaming molten rock surge into the air

violent shakes ripped not the mantle and the crust
nor did scourging heat digest the first lime leaves
and baby birds in an abandoned nest

it was the unexpected frost
that silently stroke its glass blue icy hand
when swallows had announced the return of spring
and the lily of the valley blossomed deep green and white

that was how
the tiny flowery bells
and our love died
Annette Jan 17
if i had kept his words unread
until after the teasing of the moonlight
as the first golden rays stir... then awake
and the frrt-frrt sound of the sugarbirds spread

then his voice
would have sounded one more time

if i had clipped its flier feathers
assured it could not escape before dawn
if only i had caged the message of his pen
it would have stayed captive... and only then
the words said would have remained unsaid

but i could not wait
to set his last words free
until the cycle of the seasons change
the colours of sunsets rearrange
or until the sugarbirds migrate
'You've got mail'... powerful words. But don't you sometimes wish you had kept that message unread? (An older poem).
Jan 16 · 140
i wish...
Annette Jan 16
i could peel off nostalgia
and remember the pain

gushing from the fruit
down my arm
sticky and burning

dripping from my fingers

too bitter to lick
Jan 14 · 73
fallen fly...
Annette Jan 14
a fly
with a broken wing
is easier to squash

unlike a butterfly
hovering like a silken angel...

tender hands thread
celestial string
and gently stitch
the tear in her wing
whispers in her tiny ears
soothes her weeny butterfly fears

but the fly...

she stumbles and flails
***** and fails
then rests her wing
and slowly dies

for who...
who saves a fly?
Annette Jan 14
the beauty of the symmetry
sweet softness in its flight
a playful pause then fluttering
to taste a flower's pride

but when it breaks a wing
it's just a butterfly

so what were you thinking
when you saved a butterfly
with a broken wing

to lift it from the ground
then ease and cup it softly
restrict the painful flutter

and then you even tried (i smile)
to soothe and calm it down
with a gentle sshh sshh sound!

so much tender care...

but did you know it's rare
for a broken butterfly
to ever fly again?

did you?
an old write... dusted and polished
Jan 12 · 96
press 'snooze'...
Annette Jan 12 more time

rhythmic stanzas sweetly pour
word curtains gently sway
hot chocolate lines await my lips

please don't...

don't pluck the plush poetry
whispers from my soul

it's cold

so cold outside
Jan 11 · 57
wandering stranger
Annette Jan 11
he stroke a wandering cat
with his sunburnt calloused hand
dirt smeared face
body clothed in rags

perhaps hungering affection
from another breath
more than he hungered
a piece of bread

wilting as a flower in a vase
a shadow without face

a lonely wandering stranger
in life's drifting sand
with his ***** stroking hand

just another human
without some fancy human right
fighting the survival fight
to the unknown beggar who stroke a stray cat...
Jan 8 · 183
Annette Jan 8
good earth!

once they say
"all protocols observed..."

words beautifully curved
tongue surfed

do they even know
how that sentence was conceived?

let alone birthed!
Part of the poem challenge 'Clarity' by Elizabeth Leone Laird...
Jan 8 · 185
bird sanctuary...
Annette Jan 8
it's not a bird game
nor a game bird
(feasting on lice)

birds just keep



can't get out
swirling around

tail in the air
head stuck in the ground

bit like an ostrich

with useless wings
part of the poem challenge 'Clarity' from Elizabeth Leone Laird...
Jan 5 · 99
o yes my dear...
Annette Jan 5
under the blue sky
on soft even growing grasses
next to a softly gurgling stream

butterflies that kiss the petals of field flowers
a weeping willow
and us

just us.
Jan 2 · 157
Annette Jan 2
and crickets chirp
in the silence of the night
the excuse
and the bees

softly slumber
Annette Dec 2019
trace your outlines on the wall
feel the coldness touch my body
and pretend you hold me warm

write the lyrics of your blood

and i will sing for you a song
soulful twists and soothing flats
i'll drum the rhythm of your soul

teach me the chords to play your veins
i'll run my fingers through its notes

but when the moon unveils her glow

let me dance with your shadow
Dec 2019 · 219
Annette Dec 2019
i read the directions
then looked at my path

and i knew

she has never walked this path
Dec 2019 · 387
crying dolphin
Annette Dec 2019
she twirled through a hoop
twisting in the air
whipped the ball
and caught the sardine…

a lonely moan
her piercing whistle
a sorrowful groan
went lost in applause
in her turquoise world…

in the boundless ocean
he chased a herring
squeaked and leaped as
a golden ray kissed
his dorsal fin…

worlds apart
her call was abducted
left unheard
gone astray
floating in the wind…
Dolphins are highly intelligent and social creatures. Captivity causes desperation due to separation, chemical treated water and confinement (Michelle A Rivera)

Poet Stephen E Yocum's poem titled "Wish" reminded me of this poem, part of an older collection.
Dec 2019 · 469
Annette Dec 2019
your hands were gentle as you glued my broken wing

and equally gentle as you broke my heart
i shed my last tear for you
and my last ink
Dec 2019 · 155
my teddy bear...
Annette Dec 2019
as the hugs slowly disappear
i remember the first time you fell in love with someone else

"mom.... she has beautiful pink boots
but you have beautiful boots too"

may your new teenage shoes
walk you bravely through life
my baby turned teenager and high school winks 'hello'
Dec 2019 · 418
Forgive us Africa
Annette Dec 2019
the sand of your red deserts scorch the story
of your turbulent past your shameful history
once peacefully nurtured by mother nature
then fiercely deprived of a bountiful future

Forgive us Africa

the land was rich with plenty to share
but in our greed we wanted it all
we left you naked stripped you bare
our desires choked your mercy call

your chained children cried
we heard it not
your brave warriors died
we saw it not

our needs were more than the Saharan sand
more wealth, more gold, more slaves, more land
we left you bleeding in the African sun

oh God what have we done

Forgive us Africa
looking into the eyes of a young slave on a black-and-white photograph
Dec 2019 · 73
the second line
Annette Dec 2019
a day like any other day a month like all the 98
my body plays its usual game

i rise over mountainpeaks of hope then plunge into a valley without name

wet-eyes-red-nose broken

hope poisons my ability to wait
three days late is a godly sign
i'll slowly die without a second line

the test clutched in both my hands he patiently waits by my side
our breathing stops my eyes are wide
we've never seen a second line

i yell i jump and dance and scream
he looks at me as in a dream

i laugh
i cry
i giggle-gurgle-laugh some more

tiny life... it's his it's mine
as water turned to selected wine

we finally found the second line
Reading Ashley Kocher's "children's feet"... I digged into my older poems. My heart goes out to Ashley.
Dec 2019 · 109
Annette Dec 2019
the marvelous rumours that streetlights spread on rain glazed pavements!

i splash barefoot through puddles that hold no prints of yesterday and keep none for tomorrow

inhale the earthy smell of dust cleansed leaves and soaking ground

and hang my umbrella on the highest  branch of a turpentine tree

after the rain
petrichor - the smell after rain
Dec 2019 · 250
a soul so broken...
Annette Dec 2019
satan grabbed a broom to brush the bits into a bin

but angels saw the brilliant rays reflect from the sharp pieces scattered on the ground

each splinter carefully gathered and tenderly glued together
God was gifted a beautiful imperfect bottle to collect every precious tear

of one broken soul
Psalm 56:8 "You have collected all my tears in Your bottle...."
Dec 2019 · 105
the artist
Annette Dec 2019
it has always made the dreamer in me to dream
twinkling stars on a velvet black sky
the reflection of city lights in gurgling water
glimmering flames in a cold dark night

the artist knew my body my heart my soul
his creative hands were firm and warm
we flowed together like oil paint on linen canvas
in the moonlight picnic on the Danube river

it was a Leonardo da Vinci painting
a Pablo Picasso sculpture
a Julio Iglesias Latino melody
it was the art of romancing

i do not remember the sounds of the night
or the breeze on my skin

but i remember his dark chocolate voice
the fire in his eyes
the embrace of his arms

the wooden boat rocked softly on the Danube river
the moon was bright the sky blackish blue
i was deeply dreamingly surreal in love

in the arms of the artist
in the art of romancing
long ago.... and far away... memories of newly weds
Dec 2019 · 71
Annette Dec 2019
the sky bids the sun goodnight with crimson lips
unbuttons her blue robe and slowly strips
gracefully she slips into her diamond sprinkled
midnight gown then drapes with a swirl
around her lovely neck a delicate creamy pearl

soft and sweet is the smell of moist grass
glittering fireflies flutter in circles and pass
as I lay on my back with my hands in my nape
artful sketches are the shadows of the trees
harmonious the a capella cricket melodies

my last thoughts are his and his are mine
though nothing else our hearts entwine
and we share nothing but the moon
as only our thoughts whisper and croon
our souls travel across seasons and time

only to bid goodnight
written for the 'the moon and humanity' anthology
Annette Dec 2019
never assume you are Adam's exclusive forbidden fruit
you might only be an ingredient in his exotic fruit salad

- - - - -

forbidden love is but the flesh of the fruit
over the skin runs forbidden tears
and in the kernel hides forbidden hurt

- - - - -

when the fruit
the forbidden fruit
became sweeter than Eve

Adam said
the woman You gave me
caused the bite from the fruit
Dining in the dark is dangerous. If it can't be eaten by daylight... fast.
Dec 2019 · 97
smash and grab
Annette Dec 2019
i skipped the adverts
ignored the warnings
who would smash my soul
and grab my heart!

in my cosy comfort zone
what thief would dare to prowl?

had I known that the hands
of a thief could be kind
to crumble a soul soft
like sun kissed sand
on a Puerto Rico strand

then dance a classic waltz
with a beating heart
tip tiptoeing
soft... round... flowing...

but when morning came
i was left alone
with a shattered soul
and a stolen heart

and in love with a missing man
Dec 2019 · 160
Annette Dec 2019
it was mostly my heart that tickled when his rough pink tongue licked my lips and i giggled wrinkling my nose in pure pleasure

he had a soft tiny grey face and
wiggled his cute little nose
as i scratched that messed-up fluffy patch resting between his drooping long ears

my mischievous furry toddler

he was not an animal
by far not
the playful skip in the air an exhilarating greet
i love you i love you i love you -
a babbled proclamation clearer than that of any two-feeter

dark marbled eyes softened in adoration observing his world... me

as my hand translated my purred words from his tiny head to the tiny paws of his outstretched fluffy body

my heart
my first born
Dec 2019 · 98
Annette Dec 2019
dust bowls erode the landscapes wheezing dry
weary thirsty ground gulp a silent cry
let pen describe its anguish!

in the midst of covert torment

the skies lit with violent purple lightning
angry thunder rumble rolls and growls
heavens fall, heavens fall apart!
thickening black and furious howls

in fear and awe i hold,
i hold my breath
i gasp!

(eyes closed)
balancing on that splendid dreadful peak

of anticipation
Nov 2019 · 78
broken glass
Annette Nov 2019
in my hand i held
an antique crystal glass unexcelled
fully perfected

on a fateful day
it slipped through my fingers
sharp tiny fragments
millions of splinters scattered

after time lapsed I saw her
she held a rare handblown glass
rainbow rays reflected

my gaze astray
i coerced my eyes away
for it's not okay
to take from someone else

just because yours is broken
Nov 2019 · 229
faded footprints
Annette Nov 2019
i trailed your footprints in the sand
to the ***** of sobbing dunes and silent seagulls

a breeze scooped your toes your heels the turning tides swallowed your precious prints  

and the waves whispered
'it was meant to be that way'
remember you promised...

to meet me in another lifetime
under a cypress tree
Nov 2019 · 237
she asked
Annette Nov 2019
'what is love'

there is
and butterfly love

but then my dear...
there is heavy duty love

where illusions
and love myths

and you cry
through the promise
you so lightheartedly made
on your wedding day

"in sickness and in health"
Not much of a poem. My soul responding to 13-year old Quinn Adaire's question "what is love"...
Nov 2019 · 126
Annette Nov 2019
the difference between  
gently dabbing a tear
with lace handkerchief


briskly blocking a delicate teardrop
with paper tissue
flushed down the toilet
Nov 2019 · 48
Annette Nov 2019
head tilted
breath vapouring in the cold
she howled from dusk to dawn

mournful like the echo of a ship's blasting horn

her eyes sipped the silver moonlight puddled
in the diamond sprinkled void

until she found him in the fading moon

stroke his skin
felt his breath
heard his heartbeat
and softly sighed

curled up in the warmth of the sun's rising orange soul
mooned = accute moon intoxication effectively treated with plenty of sunshine... ;-)
Nov 2019 · 214
jump into eternity
Annette Nov 2019
double trouble
and then you jumped into eternity

with your serious face you said
'look sis...
drugs are cool
grownups are simply jealous'


did it secure a smooth flight?
will i ever ever know whether you planned to land

in eternity?
Inspired by Autumn T's poem 'for my brother'.... I suddenly remembered his voice from long long ago... gosh, he was such a tease! (... see 'first kiss')
Nov 2019 · 156
a sigh...
Annette Nov 2019
escaped partially opened lips

twirled past

crispy whirling leaves
a snow white butterfly
blue skies and
wind whisked clouds

softly caught by an angel
Nov 2019 · 61
his rag doll
Annette Nov 2019
the rag doll felt her plastic heart pound
to that cherished familiar sound
of his deep and masculine voice
and to the slow circling of his fingers

as his hands caressed another

from the top shelf her cotton legs dangled
in her honey curvy bootcut jeans
and her painted strawberry lips smiled
as her acrylic eyes gleamed

whilst his arms embraced another

sewed from a piece of the finest cloth
she was his favourite... his handmade doll
he dressed her snug and sporty
then proudly showcased her to all

though in his heart he loved another
as i watched her love him who loved her not
#pen-and-paper collection
Nov 2019 · 59
worthless words
Annette Nov 2019
can i descend in the depth of the ocean
to hunt for rare and pearly words
and luminous

or dig into unexplored mountains to mine for priceless words
and thread them on a golden chain
to drape around my neck

can i pick a red ripe fleshy word from
a blooming swaying tree
soft at my fingertips
and juicy on my lips

can i?

when i read your words
full of pain
we dig the bottoms of fertile grounds to harvest the most poetic words to beautify a poem

yet struggle to find a simple line to comfort someone in pain
Nov 2019 · 148
tumbling twilight
Annette Nov 2019
the sky tapped the colours of the rainbow
soft blue and orange with stripes of red and lilac

a sunray swirls its finger and writes the nightingale's song on liquid mirror

the universe hums a soothing melody  a clapping and sqwaking of flamingoes
burbling splashing of a river and
soft stirring of aging crispy leaves

the cool air licks my skin
and the promise of rain tickles my nose
i shake my hair in the wind and gurgle laugh

closed eyes i rise and rise to caress the bouncy belly of the skies

and bid the tumbling twilight goodnight
Nov 2019 · 73
running shoes
Annette Nov 2019
if you gaze in the yellow
of a lions eyes
spine crawling chill
breathe in... stand still

kick off your running shoes

should you run
you may move
but you will not win

don't run

as the writer of a poem
lifts his soul touching tool
heart leaping warmth
it's a pen not a gun

don't run

you may gasp for breath
feeling numb a little dazed
it's not a cardiac arrest
not a rendezvous with death

know when to stay
and know when to walk
be certain when to run

if it's a lion or a poet

don't run
from my old collection
i have not been able to follow my own advice...
Nov 2019 · 60
first kiss
Annette Nov 2019
skills acquired by trial and error
vaseline stains on the mirror
to produce the perfect pout

until my dad's amused smile
stopped kissing practice
for the longest while

but my brother bribed a random face
to thank his blushing sis
for a fictional act of grace
with a meaningless kiss

i remember
the flight and fall from
the soft and warm lips

of a faceless
complete stranger

my first kiss...
in sweet memory... he was such a tease...!
Nov 2019 · 120
press pause
Annette Nov 2019
just for today i call it a day
press pause... no more poetry

i hear the sobbing souls
the site is drenched in tears
bits of humans scattered like broken porcelain dolls
scars like the stars in the sky
deep infected open wounds bandaged with only poetry

and blood streams from my screen

Dear God... please read Hello Poetry
I'm sorry... a bit overwhelmed by your pain today. Please keep writing.
Nov 2019 · 71
Annette Nov 2019
i killed you killed you slowly with my words
i know it hurt perhaps still hurts

i was the cruel other child cool and wild
and you were sweet shy and mild

calling you hurtful shameful names
after years in your mind my memory pains

you were the one who cried wanting not to go to school
for i had made you the school clown
i crowned you as the fool

now i talk from my grave with a bullet in my heart
and you still cry you cry in jail guarded by a guard
written for the 'about abel and cain' anthology
Nov 2019 · 336
page my heart
Annette Nov 2019
i flipped the page and another page
to the one that held the whisper words
cinnamon and vanilla midnight words
sweetly purred in the wind

cooled in your dancing snow flocks
sprinkled with ocean salt
warmed in my sizzling sun

your words

but on that pale piece of paper
lay a pile of rubber crumbs
and a gaping gauzy blotch

and your dear and indelible name
Nov 2019 · 48
who died...?
Annette Nov 2019
who understands the depth of love or its height?
they plunged into the Krubera cave
and climbed Bhutan's ****** peak

was it yesterday or was it long ago?
when they lived and loved and craved

as they touched and travelled on soft wings
of silly dreams and sweet poetry
and promised to meet in another life under a cypress tree

when he died the earth stopped
it's turn...
and stopped and stopped and stopped

one day the sun began to set again
and the moon gifted the night with light

as she glided like the shimmer of a sleepless ghost
in hindsight
she wondered.... who died?

did she cry?
the dead do not cry
Nov 2019 · 50
the princess
Annette Nov 2019
my little sister was a fanatic believer
in the mysterious princess

who lived in my mind
and behind the loosely drooping branches
of a grieving willow tree

treading softly on vibrant field flowers
with delicate and sparkling clean feet
to explore the luxury of my thoughts

the only believer
is me
: -)
my little sister and i shared an imaginary friend.... i admit... i lend a hand to keep her alive, strengthening the faith of her youngest believer
Nov 2019 · 182
Annette Nov 2019
my foreign soul
responds to you
in a language i don't know...
Nov 2019 · 509
Dear Friend
Annette Nov 2019
i arrived at my new destination

the neighbours are kind
the couplets are neat
and the stanzas are in full bloom

i unpacked my feathered pen
my words
and a sparkling white sheet

thank you that you understood
why i left you and your
soulful whispers behind

i should have left my heart and my mind

the constant fights!
‘you set him free!?’
‘good… it’s appropriate to be

just friends!’

it never ends!

i miss you so much
please stay in touch…

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