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Jun 11 · 78
Vicki Kralapp Jun 11
I cry inside my silent world
and beg to find a lesser pain;
a pain that can be reconciled
with thoughts of love of self, contained.

The outside world is raging still...
We stumble yet to find our way
and fall unto a darkened path,  
while those we love are led astray.

I close my door once more to hide;
to block the sounds that I recall.
Amidst the ghosts of days gone by
and secrets that we bury, all.

How foolish to believe I’ve healed!
But yet my skin is crawling still,
as I recall the years gone past,
the pain and grief come raging back.

So I stay inside my placid home,
deplete of all who cause me pain,
to find the peace I long to have
and hope for life without the rain.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jun 2 · 146
The good in US is fading fast,
a part of all that’s passed.
But have we ever been that great,
I question and I ask?

The past recalls we stole our land,
from natives living here,
instead of sharing land and food,
we drove them out and killed.

We choose too many godless men,
with hearts as cold as ice,
that drive a wedge into our hearts,
souls ransomed for that price.

Our children's cries can still be heard,
amidst our broken schools,
too selfish yet to sacrifice,
beyond our treasured rules.

A proud American, once was I,
I’ve lost my faith in US,
but still I hold to it’s people’s strength,
to learn from lessons past.

Our land of dreams has all but gone;
the Golden Rule has died.
While corruption rots us from within,
we blind our eyes and hide.

My dad, a veteran of two wars,
bronzed stars the hero given,
he’d weep to see what we’ve become,
along with all in heaven.

Our greed and conquest has become,
our way of western life.
I plead with all who still have souls,
to use your hearts and minds.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Mar 31 · 154
Vicki Kralapp Mar 31
I’ve tired of you inside my dreams,
a bully changing forms,
from children in the classroom to
tornadoes all around.

Each night you visit me anew,
not leaving me to rest.
And though I’ve worked to find some peace,
you find me from my past.

You will not leave me, though I sleep,
my body shudders still,
amidst the painful memories
of life’s forgotten ills.

Why won’t you stop harassing me
yet when I try to sleep?
What can I do to make you stop?  
What do you want from me?
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Feb 17 · 225
Vicki Kralapp Feb 17
My heart sings like the songbird
in the warmth of early spring,
as it soars to the heavens,
and delights in the sun upon its opened wing.

It sings of tomorrow and hope for the future.
And leaving behind yesterday's cold,
it awaits the tender green of spring
lying hidden beneath a crust of snow.

My heart dances to this jubilant melody;
my future now within my reach.
I revel in my love of life
and the bliss I feel with each new morn.
All poems are copy written and are the sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Vicki Kralapp Feb 10
Upon the dark and snow filled sky,
I gaze out past the houses glow,
at snowflakes flying past the lights
and blanket all that lay below.

On such a winter’s night as this,
awaiting sleep, both deep and fast.
within the midst of icy winds and
winter’s Polar Vortex blast.

A mug of cocoa in my hand
to warm me from inside this room,
I lay beneath my downy quilt,
and bid the storm winds hasten through.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jan 21 · 212
Vicki Kralapp Jan 21
Pain, like a molten sword,
burns on the flesh of my heart.

Once again, it’s been wielded,
tearing a hole into my unprotected soul.

I am drowning in the blackness,
of its grasp on me.

I lift my prayers to the heavens
to give me strength of spirit,

and wisdom to find the path
to escape its mighty grip.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Dec 2018 · 800
Vicki Kralapp Dec 2018
I woke upon this winter’s morn,
with Christmas in my heart,
despite the news across the earth,
and grayness it imparts.

Reports of quakes and Etna,
with its crest blown to the sky,
while Central Sulawes’ floods,
chased people for their lives.

In Syria, its people mourn,
the tears and blood they’ve shed,
their civil war, it rages still,
marks eight years with its dead.

The fires that swept our golden state,
left thousands without homes,
its victims living now in tents,
with nothing of their own.

While winds of last year’s hurricanes,
have raged on southern shores,
in Florida and eastern coasts,
all shook us to the core.

The caravan of people fled,
from countries to the south,
have braved too much already,
for a wall to shut them out.

Our country, now divided,
on beliefs we hold too close,
while people spew their hatred at,
those who challenge them the most.

And those who are in power,
cannot see beyond their nose,
to what tomorrow wants from us,
and what our world needs most.

But still, I see the kindness,
and the love in passersby,
when someone gives a hand to those,
who need it more than I.

I see the hope in children’s eyes,
where love and truth prevail,
when treated as tomorrow’s hope,
when peace on earth has failed.

So let us focus on the grace,
so often overlooked,
and make our resolution be,
to share our love on earth!
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Oct 2018 · 1.3k
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
I step into the crispness of the Door, just past the peak of color,
and the smell of smoked wood fills the air.
Trees draped in yellow ochres and burnt siennas
overlook the paths and sidewalks of dappled leaves.

Lake Michigan, angry teal with late fall wind,
rolls in against massive rocks skirting its shores.
Whitecaps, balancing on the tip of each wave,
surf their way into shore and crash against breakwaters.

Winds whistling through the silver of leftover leaves
flit each like whirlybirds as they reflect the midday sun.
Feathered cattails, backlit against the morning sun,
line the roadsides while they wave goodbye in the wind.

I breathe in the color as it fades against the afternoon sky,
while collecting the stunning hues in photos and tasty delicacies along the way.
I bid farewell to the fish boils, cherries, apples,
and views of magnificent bays as I make my way back home.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Oct 2018 · 3.3k
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
From my earliest remembrance,
to this hour I have maintained,
I've never been contented
with a life of the mundane.

I’ve sought to spend each day in life
in search of curious things,
like art and education,
and the richness that they bring.

I hope to write more poetry
and share my verse in print,
and with my use of written word,
paint art with shades and tints.

I’ve been to many distant lands,
but yet my heart implores,
I seek out farther mysteries,
our planet has in store.

But now my body slows me down,
like most as we grow old,
and though I try, oft I fall short,
of plans I can control.

So, to keep myself companion,
while I will myself to heal,
I’ve formed all my ambitions,
which one day I plan to reach.

Since I was just a little child
I dreamt of life abroad,
in Kenya with the Maasai tribe,
I’ve always been enthralled.

I've fancied a safari,
where the famous five are found,
a land where great giraffes stand tall,
against the setting sun.

But, it is the Land Down Under,
that is first among my plans,
and one day soon I’ll see the coast,
of Sydney once again.

My friends will come to greet me,
though a lifetime I’ve been gone,
and united we’ll share memories,
for the present and beyond.

I’ll go for walks amidst the bush,
and hear the magpie’s tunes,
I’ll stroll beside the ghostly gums;
with nature grow attuned.

I’ll tour along the Southern Coast,
drive past Apostles tall,
and see the sites of Melbourne fair,
with all its cultured draw.

Then off to Kiwi’s northern isle,
with nature’s beauty rare,
fulfilling dreams so long desired,
to glimpse the Mauri’s there.

Waitomo, with its glow worm caves,
and Rotorua’s pools,
with geysers, Eco thermal parks,
and Bay of Islands too.

As I make my way back to the states,
I’ll stop along the way,
to visit Fiji’s turquoise coast,
and snorkel time away.

I’ll learn about the culture,
and partake of Fiji’s fare,
and when I go, I hope to leave,
a part of my heart there.

The coast of California,
on my list of sites to see;
from the Wharf in San Francisco,
to the vineyards by the sea.

I dream of redwoods sure and tall:
the parks and smell of pines,
and stand amid the ancient firs,
lest they pass for all of time.

I plan to visit Florence,
where master artists roamed;
the heart of Tuscan Renaissance,
where da Vinci made his home.

I hope to cruise Amalfi’s coast,
with others at the helm,
to view the brilliance of the sights,
and others in the realm.

While in the South of Italy,
I’ll cross the briny foam,
and walk the hills in Athens,
where ancient Grecians roamed.

I dream of Amazonia,
where man has not destroyed,
and natives live within the wild,
with harmony employed.

The last one on my bucket list,
is one I’d left undone,
when first I made my maiden trip,
and I was twenty-one.

I’d hoped to see the Emerald Isle,
and England’s castles old,
Duke’s palaces and British Tate,
are marvels to behold.

I’ll drive the ring of Kerry,
and the magic Isle of Skye,
to see its Fairy Pools of hues,
and Highland’s brilliance sights.

The lush green grass of Glen Coe,
the Scottish hills await,
would be a lifelong dream fulfilled
when all my trials abate.

With this, my final dream fulfilled,
I see my list complete,
full circle with this Commonwealth,
my restless feet at peace.

But ‘til that time when I am healed,
and I can travel far,
I’ll dream of lands beyond my reach,
and one day touch the stars.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Oct 2018 · 1.6k
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
The bush, Down Under, beckons me, and calls me from across the sea,
its sirens sing their distant songs, with winged flutes and sorrowed calls.
I walk the haunting memories, while warm winds whistle through the trees,
and watch the ghosts of gumtrees play, while passing wattles on the way.
This foreign land bewitches me, and to my heart it holds the key;
a land where once my spirit played, from where I have too long delayed.

From secret depths you sang to me, to where I’d always longed to be.
You called me forth, your land ignites, the strength within me to unite,
the unbound lass I’d sought to be, with new-found strength to set me free.
I found, much to my heart’s delight, when first I landed at this site,
the beauty of its majesty, I made its land a part of me.
This mystic place on earth excites, has caught my heart and held it tight.    

At once I knew that foreign shore, as if I been there long before;
with memories reminding me, of golden grasses by the sea,
a voice inside of me implored and told me you’ve been here before!”,
This view within my mind foreseen?  Just déjà vu? I can’t concede.
The scene’ry in my mind before, has opened a mysterious door,
into a land over the sea and made this curious memory.

When darkness flees, the day’s still new, when laughter bids the night adieu,
then bellbirds ring the morning in, their chimes float on the early wind.
The loris and the gold finch too, are both arrayed in rainbow hues.
With gum nuts, leaves, and bark akin, all carpeting the floor therein,
along with ****** bushland too, when all of nature sang anew,
the master painter, here has been, as seen in beauty from within.

As sunbeams from the sky break through, all glistens in the morning dew,
and add their magic touch to all; to paperbarks and banksias,
the bottle brush and wattles too, all readied for the day’s review.
Loud kookaburras’ raucous calls, with cockatoos and pink galahs,
pied currawong and magpie flutes, enchanting all who hear their tunes.
All joined in bushland’s magic call, and with this tune, I was enthralled.

I’ve been across this curious land, and seen more than I may have planned,
from Alice Springs and Uluru, and Darwin north of Kakadu,
the Barrier Reef, just off of Cairns, and Sydney with its city grand.
But the place I keep in view, with cockatoos and kangaroos,
in this immense, and distant land; the bush with all its beauty grand.
‘Tis in my mem’ry, pure and true, and with each breath calls back to you.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 684
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
My friends ask me why, I no longer take time,
to take pencil in hand, to draw what’s in my mind,
or to put it on canvas, with paintbrush in hand,
though I’ve tried to explain, they just don’t understand.

So I simply reply, “I now paint on a screen,
or I paint on computer, with words and a theme,
and I use what’s inside me, to bring words to life”.
with a spectrum of colors, they are just as precise.

Their only reply is, “But you are far too good!”
You can’t put your art down!  If only I could…”
Still they can’t understand, nor could I in their place,
that the freshness of art, has since gone with no trace.

To make art with pastel, no longer conveys,
what I felt was important, what I wanted to say.
I no longer enjoy, art’s gestation and birth,
it no longer brings joy, only pain for its worth.

But the pen gives us strength, just as mighty as all
of the art that we see, on the gallery walls.
Each image on paper, with the picture complete,
is boundlessly infinite; each image unique.

There may come a time, when I’ll take up my brush,
to paint what I see, to the canvas I’ll touch.
But for now, I’m contented, to write how I feel,
to paint with my writing, and to share all I see.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 164
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
I awaken to the hymn of creation,
a chorus of life in the morning light.
The sun, straining to raise its head,
brings light and life to the world.

Ripples dance on the water nearby,
while birds sing the harmony of nature’s song.
Lizards leap into the cool of nearby water,
while crows warn of changes to come.

Whispering on the winds of time,
change dares me, entreating me to follow.
I hold fast, as I follow its lead,
with eyes wide open.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 1.9k
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer,
painting maples in hues of brilliant oranges and reds.
Long shadows of late September streak across the last blades of grass,
as Fall’s stark contrasts light the afternoon.

The seasonal wind breathes cold with the smell of autumn in the air.
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer,
while cottony clouds in a sea of cornflower blue, slowly slide out of view,
chased down by v’s of geese as they race across the sun.

Helicopter seeds line the sidewalks, green and gold, as others float on the wind,
down to join with cones and acorns awaiting next year’s crop.  
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer.
Crows, harbingers of the winter to come, make their sad calls.

Squirrels pause to pack their cheeks with Fall’s fare and scurry to secret caches,
their bulging cheeks filled with fallen nuts and acorns.
Fall greets me with a kiss as summer bows to its chill, as
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer.
Autumn Quatern.

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 1.6k
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
My song, a melody composed,
on heartstrings of each passing day.
This ballad’s mine, and mine alone,
a verse of life, to sing my way.

T’was never plain and seldom free,
as tempos often changed and rush,
but always, I’ve been greatly blessed
with life’s vast treasures mostly hushed.

The strains that I have sung through life,
at last have finally found their ground:
A tenor voice, in senior years,
the songs I sing, with value found.

I lift my voice, the world to hear,
for ne’er will it be heard again,
as long as there is life on earth,
and time has reached its final end.
For all of my friends looking for their voices…

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 893
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
You play your song
and I am back once more,
to a day of crushing good-byes.
Sneaking in the back door
of my protected memories
you find me.

I try to hide away
from everyone,
and everything;
trying to hold back the salty tears
that stream down
my cheeks.

Collapsing in a pile on the beach,
at the end of a long trail
at the ocean's edge,
my emotions spill out
in pools like blood,
flooding over me.

A rock wall at my shoulder
and shells at my feet,
my tears fall heavy
as I sob through my thoughts.
Writing fails me and my words fall flat;
I am lost between two worlds.

Even after thirty years,
my breath still catches in my throat
to hear your haunting melody.
My eyes still hold tears,
from the heartbreak
of goodbye.
For my other homeland, Australia.

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 942
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
I have a dream where I can wake
to freedom’s awesome sound,
where wars are but a memory past
and peace at last is found.

I picture people giving hope
to all who are in need,
and all the races of the world,
would join in word and deed.

A time will come when we will see
how we are all a part,
of one great universal plan
united by one heart.

No one will give a notice to
the color of our skin
and killing others for a faith;
religion’s greatest sin.

We’ve put aside our differences,
forgiving all our pasts
and live our lives in unity;  
one world, one faith at last.

For I believe this dream of peace,
is one all should recall:
Too oft we hold to what we want
until we've lost it all.

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 261
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
Inside my dreams, I found a house,
a place I came to know,
a dwelling unattended that
the second class called home.

For all those years t'was but a shell,
of grey, decaying wood,
and floors collapsing underfoot,
on each board that I stood.

While wandered the halls one night
I found within that home,
it's heart: a mansion, unsurpassed
in beauty, left alone.

But too afraid to stay, I thought,
it was too grand for me,
so each time that this place appeared,
I turned on heel to leave.

Throughout the years that house has changed,
rebuilt with wings attached,
though new, the halls were blackened by
the ghosts of memories past.

Then one great night, a fire broke out,
in rooms left unprepared,  
and all I knew, burnt to the ground,
and I alone was spared.

When I awoke, it was quite clear,
and could not be denied,
this house was me, who lived before,
my heart was what survived.

For all my life I’d seen myself
dismissed and set apart,
I hadn’t seen the grace within
that lived inside my heart.
Self portrait

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 1.4k
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
My bedsheets envelop me
with the familiar scent of home
as I lie comforted
in their warm embrace.

Outside my window,
crows call from maple trees
their leaves tipped in gold and ochre,
while raven visitors welcome me.

Sprinkled with bits of bleached sand,
my dashboard is a daily reminder
of my my beach-time walkabouts
where I kept my hopes and dreams.

My tropical adventure,
now just a memory in snapshots
lies packed away with shells and other mementos,
as I embrace tomorrow.

Summer's sultry days
with their myriad of challenges,
have molded me into the woman I am,
and who I will become.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 774
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
Dark death skirts beaches in blood red,
as coffee colored swells wash in more
carnage to the shores;
we are blindly poisoning our waters.

Toxic plumes of red tide cover the seas,
beaching whales and seals,
manatees, and fishes;
we indiscriminately **** our sea life.

The brisk breeze off the Gulf
brings the smell of rotting death
that is all around;
we are blindly killing ourselves.

Our lifeblood,
the seas and its inhabitants,
slowly slip away;
we disrespect nature.

Mother earth mourns
as we continue
to ****** its inhabitants;
we are dying.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2018 · 496
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2018
Then the rains came;
they fell in torrents,
flooding over me with pain,
driving me to the ground.

Searing pain, unrelenting,
Its waves of nausea
washing over me,
cutting into my days.

Misery is my tutor,
teaching lessons of life.
I struggle with their mysteries,
so many elude me.

Still the rains fall,
pelting me with stinging tears,
and each day I raise my shield
to challenge the oncoming gale.
For those with fibromyalgia, arthritis, or any other chronic illness.

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2018 · 1.2k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
Burning, midday asphalt
reaches up to break my fall,
as I crumple in a heap
of broken pain.

Wiping blood and sweat
from my face,
a voice cuts through the
sound of my beating heart.

Gentle hands reach out,
calm and soothing,
lead me to icy coolness
and safety.

Divine messengers,  
press me to ride
their magic medical van
to ER.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2018 · 4.0k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
Low tide,
at morning’s first light,
gently washing
sea jewels clean.

Fibonacci spirals,
surf waves in to shore,
giving proof
of masterful perfection.

Foaming surf,
hushed by dawn’s calming hand,
offers up its treasure
of scallops, whelks, and conchs.

My seaside beach,
awash in earth’s riches,
misty and serene awaits,
as dawn’s stars fall from the heavens.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2018 · 964
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
Within a world of azure blue,
the mantas glide with angel wings,
and fly on winds of ocean waves,
inside their realm of mystery.

Like ancient beings from the deep,
they flash and shimmer in our light,
with other-worldly mammoth forms;
cephalic fins and flattened frames.

These gentle giants of the night,
draw fishes from the briny deep,
their vivid forms flash to and fro,
feed on the banquet of the sea.

They dance balletic in our lights;
exquisite, rings and summersaults,
with bubbles lit to guide their path,
they glide just past our mortal reach.

These stunning marvels of the deep,
are but a finite sampling,
of what our planet offers up,
far past our wild imaginings.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2018 · 569
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
I’ve dreamt of living on the shore,
or somewhere near the ocean coast,
to comb the shores each early morn,
and live my life more simply.

But now l’ve seen how others live;
the haves and the have nots.
Some fish beside the shores to eat,
and live in tents and cars.

Still others far across the sea,
have none to eat or drink,
and some live lives in battle zones,
with nowhere left to hide.

The haves live in their mansions grand;
in opulence, like kings,
on boulevards that face the sea,
while lined by royal trees.

Though many rich, their debts not paid,
to those less fortunate,
with million-dollar castle spreads,
and backyards by the sea.

Myself, I could not live as such;
to know that others are in need,
while living like a queen myself,
is far beyond my conscience's dream.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2018 · 4.4k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2018
Art, unborn,
aches to find form;
to manifest itself.
Within me it screams,
while those around
remain deaf to its cry.

It claws to free itself
from mortal chains,
restless to share its vision
with the world;
to tell its story
in verse and beauty.

This art within,
impatient, cannot wait.
It struggles to find
its voice
within my finite days
and world.

Until at last,
like a volcano,
unable to restrain that voice,
it erupts,
and my art flows out,
spilling onto paper.

The words and images
become solid,
taking form,
giving birth to the art within.
Thus, completing me,
quieting the cry inside.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jul 2018 · 372
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2018
The sea,
angry with a distant storm,
surrenders its treasures
at my feet.

Bubbles and red tide
skirt its edge,
glisten in the early light
as breakers roll in.

Coquinas balance on tip-toe,
dig back to safety
while gulf currents
wash them clean.

Sea breezes
sweep in,
cooling, as the
sun lifts its mighty head.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Mar 2018 · 3.2k
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
I cracked the window to my past
wondering, hoping, I was strong enough to bear
what was left of the pain
of the life I’d left behind.

But the pain, still real, erupted inside
ripped wide the scar.
Blood and tears combined, exploded
and filled my mind and soul with fear.

I feel myself slip down that lonely road again
being drawn down that black ribbon;
its blackness seeps in through the cracks in my soul
and muddy the joy I knew.

How can I brace myself against
the tide pulling me,
holding me,
enveloping me,
and dragging me down
until I no longer can breathe
beneath its endless waves?

I fear now I may never be so strong
as to face my memories.
So I entomb these behind a mighty shield
like the Chernobyl of my past.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Mar 2018 · 1.1k
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
What’s more important, a gun or a life,
a religion, belief, or a child?

Our focus is lost, on extremes that have cost,
us the lives of the many defiled.

Weapons, religion, and money, we’ve made,
give us power to help or defend.

But the weapons we’ve made, and the choices they gave,
became blood of the many that died.

Religions of earth still dividing our world,
were created for souls to be fed.

And money and gold, here to help, we’ve been told,
made us greedy and haughty instead.

We forget that mankind is much greater than these,
calling us to refocus our hearts.

For these can be solved with one law you recall,
that encompasses all of mankind.

Mankind: our brother, our sister, our mother,
remember, that we all are one.

Let me ask this again, what’s important to men:
a child, a belief or a gun?
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Mar 2018 · 1.4k
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
We live in times of greatest fear,  
and hear the echo of the past,
in words of those we can’t ignore,
and lessons of historic years.

Wars and their rumors speak to us,
of violence and the end of days,
as voices whisper in the lines,
of those we join in nightly news.

We stop our ears to those who plead,
for us to listen to their truths,
and point our finger for mistakes,
at those who have the most to lose.

We hide our eyes from blatant facts,
because they don’t affect our lives,
and so become a puzzle piece,
of people's war against itself.

The voices held in mortal screams,
of those beyond our backyard fence,
with children paying for our greed,
the future of our lives foretold.

But now with nowhere we can hide,
from evils living in our world,
our future lies upon the truths,
that are so carefully concealed.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Mar 2018 · 755
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
It’s past the time we take a stand
within the shores we call our own.
Our country split, beliefs held tight
though voices hushed by fellow man.

The crack of guns in troubled hands
have bloodied floors of learned halls
and made us cry in distraught pain,
to see our young ones die for naught.

But though the crimson stains remain,
its youth rise up against the tide
of those who seek to serve themselves,
and make us hide our heads in shame.

Join with the youth who take this stand
and choose to make their voices heard,
for they are what our future holds,
and make us face our blackened souls.
Tribute to the student at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.

All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Jan 2016 · 954
Vicki Kralapp Jan 2016
Once just a doormat under foot
of those she found about in life.
Helpless to loose the one inside,
she hid among her wounds.

She knew her life was made for more,
and spent her days to find a peace.
And rise above the noise and pain
of just an average life.

Her world was such a futile war,
a battle fought against her foes.
This feud fought daily with a prayer
to search for purpose in debris.

These struggles brought her to this day
to close the door and leave the night.
To free what screamed within her soul
for all those troubled yesterdays.

The girl that lived inside of me
has now become a woman freed.
To live her own true spirit born
within a prison cell now flown.

Now both the blessings and the tears
of all the long fought yesteryears,
Have melted into lessons learned
for the all past is left behind.

To find this heart come spilling forth
and dancing gleefully about.
For I am free to live my life
not shackled from the past or doubt.

My blessings now beyond belief
and joy on joy is now released
Tis true perfection our God makes
when once he choses to create!
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Dec 2014 · 705
Vicki Kralapp Dec 2014
I hear the bells and see the signs of Christmas all around,
but this is such a special one for me words can’t be found.
Through a year of desperation and a time of healing too;
a special celebration after all that I’ve come through.

Last year God heard me praying for this painful life to end,
and so He sent me angels to mend my heart instead.
Now as I drive down city streets and see lights all aglow,
tears of joy stream down my face for all I’ve come to know.

So I kindly told dear Santa to give my gifts away,
to other ones that need them more than I this Christmas day.
For I’ve been truly blessed with the greatest gift of all;
a peace that can’t be understood and God answering my call.

My house is filled with grateful thanks on this the Holiest night,
and you can find two Christmas trees trimmed with the brightest lights.
The first to celebrate the time of this our Savior’s birth,
the second to remind myself of all that I am worth!
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Dec 2014 · 1.9k
Vicki Kralapp Dec 2014
I marvel at this broken child who lived inside of me,
who struggled for so many years just longing to be free.

To live a life unburdened by my dark and early years,
that made my youth a living hell wrapped in unspoken fears.

My haunted past and broken heart could never quite recall,
the missing piece tucked safely back behind a guarded wall.

So well my mind protected me from all those silent fears,
that n'er did I suspect what lie behind those childhood tears.

Like the ghost it was, it came to me to haunt me in the night,
and brought me to my knees when life refused to treat me right.

Then suddenly, though sent by God, you've given me the key,
To open up these long locked doors and set my spirit free.

Now each sweet day is filled with so much joy and hope I find,
that little girl, so happy now, is dancing in my mind!
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Nov 2014 · 484
Vicki Kralapp Nov 2014
One night I had a blessed dream just after you had passed,
a dream about a crystal church, a place I’d come at last,
From a dark and dingy basement, through a hole that I had found,
a tunnel lined with precious gems, hues vibrant all around.

I crawled out at the other end and found myself a guest
in a crystal palace like the ones I’d seen from Europe’s best.
The place was vast, so beautiful, but still through glass I saw
the brightest sea of spring green grass spread out from the far wall.

The air shown bright with shimmering light, like glitter dust it wore
and all the walls reflected light I’d never seen before.
I turned to find me in the midst of figures glowing bright,
like beings lit within themselves in pure and holy light.

The angels that surrounded me had gathered all around,
Too busy with their newest guest to see I didn't belong.
I looked to one I knew was you and tried to hug you close,
But you had not yet gone to gaze upon the Heavenly Host.

And though on earth you were my size, you now looked down on me,
I understood, though nothing said, you had somewhere to be.
I watched as others led the way to a violet mountainside,
far off in the distance many walked with others side by side.

New bodies they were given seemed to float along the ground
a flawless, pure perfection given to all that could be found.
I stood there looking at the sight and knew that I’d been blessed,
and when I woke I felt at peace to know you were at rest.

Much time has past since this sweet dream, a vision from on High
was sent to me to calm my heart and say my last goodbye.
Though this it did, I still can see the angels and the hall,
a gift to see a glimpse of what is waiting for us all!
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Sep 2013 · 1.2k
Vicki Kralapp Sep 2013
As surely as heaven exists above,
you have found your way into my heart;
your magical voice and hypnotic smile,
your whole being speaks silently to mine.

Your eyes dance in the morning light,
so kind and compassionate,
as they smile beneath canopies of lashes
and move me without a sound.

I cannot forget the times you called to me,
your soul joining mine as we stole away.
My forever love, though only in memory you live.
I keep you alive in dreams wrapped in your arms.

You carry me with you far outside this world,
with your extraordinary reigns on my heart.
Sweep me away with a love I cannot resist,
to a special life for just us two.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 973
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
You're the best of the best,
one whom I can trust,
my inner most secrets I confess.
You have been my all in all, the best of the best.

You're as deep as the sea
and as bright as the stars.
You're the one that I can count on
for now and through years to come.

You're the person that can hold
the wanderlust in me and keep me close;
the one who steals my heart away
and brightens my every day.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 1.2k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
You love me with a love,
timeless in this world
of thrown away dreams, relationships and love.

You make me believe in the eternal
the make believe and the invisible
forces at work in our lives.

You have been there
through all the hard times,
when I did not believe.

You have lifted me
to the heavens and beyond
to a new world eternal in you.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 2.0k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Summer days, so hot and sticky
I can't wait for you to come
and us to steal away together
into the midday sun.
Sitting at a café just passing the time.
Watching the people pass by in the heat
I play with the silverware,
waiting for you.
And so I sit until I see your dark,
handsome face break free from the crowd.
As I wait with a glass of riesling
and phone in my hands.
You've made me wait,
and your eyes like sea green glass
tell me that a storm is brewing
just beyond my reach.
I have been waiting it seems like
an eternity in the same café for you, always for you.
Could I have been so wrong
to love a man beyond my reach?
And with just a kiss on the cheek you are gone.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 2.2k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
We are but ships
on the turquoise sea
we float along,
to the heartbeat of the waves.

We have been sailing,
on this forlorn course
for much too long,
going our own separate ways.

But now is the time
to change our sails
and make our courses unite,
to join forces and enjoy our lives together.

Do you have the strength to reset your sails
on the course that two can sail?
Can you set your anchor close to mine
and forgo the rest of the world?

Your sails have turned
so that our paths have crossed.
You have set your anchor by my side
and you've made me your best mate.

Like these ships on the sea,
the wind has brought us to a safe cove,
where both of us can live our lives
to the heartbeat of our waves.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 635
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
I don't want a secondhand love,
a hand me down of yesterday's dreams.
I want a firsthand love,
one with whom I can make my dreams.

The love I search for is deep and long
an ocean deep and long as the sky.
The love I long for is more than just strong,
it's one that will last 'til the time that I die.

Hope has seen me through this time,
when I wished for heaven above,
for lack of a priceless love.  But now I'm
shot through by your timeless love.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 2.1k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Love is a war; a battlefield
looking for something real
in this world strewn with
shattered dreams.

Bombs and grenades blow holes
in innocent victims and
leave them to their pain
and despair.

I wait for my knight on horseback
to spare me.
I can hear the heavy hoofs and breathing of horses
as my army comes to stay the enemy of distrust.

My heart skips a beat
as I can almost feel salvation.
Holding my breath I wait for that which holds
my heart captive, to be slain.

Then you are here,along with
hope, joy, and freedom, your faithful companions,
to fill my heart and replace the blood
that has been spilt, with trust once again.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 627
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
A beautiful day
to be joyous and in love
on this sea of life.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 808
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Your love is like an ocean so big and so blue,
its powerful waves sweep me along with you.
Its sights are unearthly and wonderful still,
and your heart like the ocean just waiting to fill.

Your love, like the poet writing words on my heart,
the musician which plays the chords of a song on the harp.
Like a storm where the lightening flashes late in the night,
that makes me hide away in my bed out of sight.

Your love is the song that I feel in my heart,
it's the song that I have felt from the start.
It's the pounding of hearts and the bonding of souls,
a promise that's made that makes two loves a whole.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 970
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Waking up to the first morning light,
silently making my way to the beach.
Walking along as I skirt the waves,
and waiting for us to meet.

The raising sun glints on the crest of the waves,
as I wait for you to come.
I remember last night as you kissed me goodbye,
and how I almost came undone.

The shells and the creatures left by the tides,
are now nipping at my feet.
And I stopped to inspect them for a time,
while I wait for us to meet.

Suddenly you appeared from behind,
which gave me quite a start.
as I buried my face inside your shirt,
and prayed that we'd never part.

We kissed each other in the morning light
and promised a love 'til we died.
And with that we kissed our last kiss,
and said our last goodbyes.

I am but a wave on the crest of the seas,
tossed along with the ocean tides.
My love he seemed to be snatched away,
and all I could do was abide.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 983
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
The sun set on my dreams
the moment you walked out of my life.

So many and diverse were they,
now totally empty am I.

Try as I may to fill holes in my heart,
they remain painful and bottomless.

Though there have been others,
they've only stayed a while.

They never knew the joy
of going the full mile.  Did you?

I've tried to let you know how I feel,
but you always turn away.

Now it is too late,
you're gone to someone else,

and I am alone once again
with my empty dreams.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 1.2k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Dancing under the midnight stars
with the Southern Cross so bright,
while music floats on a gentle breeze
and my love holding me tight.

Your eyes like the fire that lights my soul
gaze into mine with delight,
as you press your body close to mine
and we move to the sounds of the night.

You whisper my name so soft and low,
I answer and am entranced,
and my heart beats so loudly like drums in the night
to the rhythm of the dance.

You have moved me so, like no one else,
and with this sweet thought I'll stay.
You've come to me like a thief in the night
and stole my heart away.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 1.3k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Softly you sing, so sweetly my dear,
like a songbird repeating what I so long to hear.
The lyrical songs to which I respond,
make me feel like the one to which you belong.

Like a wave on the ocean your crests lift me high,
with your words and your kindness they help me to fly.
Like the swarms of small birds that fly out to sea
our love has now grown into what it should be.

We have been to the heights of the heavens beyond
and you've been in my heart and my soul all along.
Can you remember the time that we weren't so blessed,
when our life was not one but just two with a wish?

For a wonderful, blissful and compassionate love
a union ordained from blessed heaven above.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 528
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
Every mention of you brings to mind memories of us,
always beautiful and fleeting.
Your warm embraces, caresses, your cool lips
pressed lightly against my cheek.

This is my brush with fate,
for it was my fate to love you.
from the beginning to my end.
You have spoiled me for all others...

I look past you trying to see others,
hoping, praying another will come along and touch me so.
You know me, as you have from the beginning, my every breath and thought
since the first time you spoke my name.

But the blush of youth has fallen to the ground like petals in the rain
and the wind has changed and blown in a storm, blowing us apart.
Love, I will never forget your whispers and your soft caresses,
your love will remain as always, like fleeting songs on the wind.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 2.5k
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
You are my beginning and end,
the very breath I breathe.
My heart, my life, my soul,
my all.

You've made this life worth living.
The way that you love me,
with your kindness, understanding and joy,
I am moved.

Your heart, so sincere and trusting,
draws me in, making me whole.
All others, that came before,
are but faint counterfeits.

So wonderful are you that I melt in your arms,
not needing more, nor wanting for more.
One half of a whole was I...
You have come to complete me.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Aug 2013 · 441
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
I am searching for someone
who will make me complete.
I call for the one
and my heart skips a beat.

The one who is out there
will fill me with joy.
He will show me he cares,
lives our lives to enjoy.

Doesn't act like a boy,
but a man and a friend,
and whose heart does enjoy
a love that lasts 'til the end.

Are you out there my darling,
my loved one, the one?
Can I live my life planning
that some day you'll come?

I will build a tomorrow
with more than just me.
I am ready to find you,
now you have the key.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
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