Night,
dark, soft, alluring,
spinner of dreams I want to be lost in,
is a kindhearted courtesan,
who never demanded anything
for all her loving, that to me
was like a swim in the pool
of "Ananda"* I was searching for.

I climbed her door steps
with the silent footfalls of a cat,
all these years for solace,
when the fair lass ,
regaled by my songs evening after evening,
scoffed and taunted,
when I fell wounded
in duels of life, I was forced to fight
to keep my honor intact.

Once,
seeing me left in the lurch,
blood soaked and badly wounded
she led my tired legs
to her house of magic and secret treasure hunts,
blessed me with oblivion, till I woke up.
Her mansion became
arena of silent dances of wounded memories,
till sun appeared above misty mountains
cheering me up with new promises,
but my thoughts never left her.
I spent my darkest hours
in her house,
thrilled by dreams she induced,
in which under moonbeams
princesses gathered,
bubbling fine wine brimmed
in sparkling glasses,
I felt the most loved man
within her tender arms.
I would wait for the night, my sullied lover,
to arrive with her hands of breeze,
to tousle my hair and caress my face.
Night  took away my pains,
her lasciviousness is the only drink,
that makes me ask for more.
She is not only mine,
as a courtesan, she needs to entertain
whoever seeks her,
But when I am with her,
she is all mine.

Such a humorous man
A kindhearted soul

His fame it does seem
Had taken it's toll

All his money and fame
Could not bring him peace

Behind laughs and smiles
Lay his demons , his beast

The world a little dimmer
With another bright star gone

We'll definitely miss him
Though the world will move on

Your face radiate such calmness
The way you sleep shows cuteness
Silent
Kindhearted
Yet so fragile
So vulnerable
I wish to see more
I wish to know more
One day i'd see you as another person
**The real you

She would be dressed pretty in rags
slaving like there's no tomorrow
without that bit of altruism
maybe a tad kindhearted
shrouded in materialism.

Fairy godmother's name
is money
lures her
to a game of fame
keeps silent
of its rules.

Her beauty
makes her a winner
she would
be drunk
attention
glamour
pleasure.

Unknowingly
games drawn to an end
the clock strikes twelve;
Struck her
riches to rags
the magic of money
only lasts so long
Struck her
still had not find
her one true love
at the eleventh hour.

Sobered
ran out in embarrassment
left only a glass slipper.

Desolate
returning to rags
a druggie for fame
with much hope
a prince charming
would remember
her to find.

Dear the softhearted:
Sympathy won’t come.
Mourn this day
and drink its poison,
leave the ones disembodied
to haunt and garrotte.

Dear the kindhearted:
Forgiveness won’t come.
Stand thin, bloodless.
Who’s waiting at home for you?

you shine bright as the sun
you're as beautiful as the
stars in the night sky

you're more brilliant
than a shooting star
more rare than a comet

i'm red with anger
much like mars
over not being in the
same room as yours

your blue eyes
draw me in and
make me feel safe
and comfortable

much like uranus
and neptune
their beautiful pale blue
color matches your eyes

don't forget the kindhearted
yellow color of venus
named after the goddess
of love aphrodite

that planet can represent
my love for you
because you're my light
in the darkness

of all space
and to end this
know that if you leave
like pluto

i'll miss you dearly
so please stay
another lightyear
and be my moon

together we'll create harmony
within ourselves
and within each other
because we're all stars

I am a good man Charlie
You may not have noticed because of how humble I am
I mean surely you've heard me say contrary things when complimented
But that's only because I want people to love me for me first
I'm sick of all these nice guy chasers out there
Who only love me for my decency
I'm looking for something real here you know
I just want it to be like the movies
I mope around til the perfect girl loves me
Then after we're together for a year
Bam!
I surprise her with a lifetime of love from a kindhearted compassionate soul
Is it really too much to ask that she love the worst of me before she ever sees the best of me

Dear the softhearted:
Sympathy won’t come.
Mourn this day
and drink its poison,
leave the ones disembodied
to haunt and garrotte.

Dear the kindhearted:
Forgiveness won’t come.
Stand thin, bloodless.
Who’s waiting at home for you?

Admirable, Blissful, Bewildered, Curious, Capable, Compassionate, Determined, Daring, Delighted, Dazzling, Eagar, Edgy, Enlightening Enthusiastic, Elegant, Fabulous, Fantastic, Forgiving, Fictitious, Fancy, Feminist, Glamourous, Gorgeous, Glowing, Guarded, Greatful, Generous, Gloomy, Happy, Honest, Hopeful, Humourous, Humble, Humane, Heartiest, Heavenly, Imaginative, Interesting, Inspiring, Intellegent, Incredible, Impressive, Important, Indecisive, Invisible, Jinxed, Joyous, Judicious, Justified, Jobless, Jiggish, Jimp, Jittery, Jazzy, Jaunty, Kindhearted, Keen, Knowledgable, Kiddish, Knavish, Knockout, Kempt, Kween, Kin, Kittens, Kinder, Lazy, Luxurious, Lively, Loyal, Limit, Laminated, Lawless, Lightning, Lushious, Luminous, Lovesick, Logical, Modest, Marvelous, Motivated, Music, Momentous, Mindful, Magical, Memories, Merciful, Mellow, Mesmerizing, Malicious, Mannered, Noble, Nervous, Night, Naive, Noted, Natural, Nifty, Nurturing, Never-ending, Noteworthy, Neglected, Narnia, Native, Number 1, ***, Openhearted, O Canada, Obviously, Obidient, Obsessions, Open-minded, Oriented, O.K., Observing, OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD, Omnicient, Outshining, Obliged, Obsticles, Passionate, Personally, Poetry, Picture-Perfect, Positivity, Pulse, Painful, Physic, Power, Protagnist, People-Person, Pros, and Cons, Purity, Purpose, Pleasant, Pieces, Quiet, Quality, Quick, Quoted, Queen, Quirky, Quintessentially, Quest, Quick-Minded, Questionable, Quarter, Quiver, Quiddity, Quiescent, Qui vive, Quip, Quantity, Ravishing, Rapport, Reliving, Reassuring, Rebal, Rainbows, Reckless, Relaxing, Respect, Remedy, Regrets, Right, Relatable, Reliable, Rad, Ready, Responsible, Rainy days, Sagacious, Salutary, Sassy, Secure, Self-assured, Self-reliant, Self-confident, Self-disciplined, Selfless, Sensational, Sensitive, Stars, Shawn Mendes, Sénorita, Sentimental, Set, Serene, Seamless, Significant, Sightly, Trustworthy, Talented, Tender-hearted, Thriving, Thankful, Titanic, Touché, Touchy, Transparent, True, True-blue, Traveller, Transpicuous, Titillating, Timeless,Tidy, Teasing, Tender, Terrific, Thorough, Thrilling, Unarguable, Ultimate, Undefining, Under-the-weather, Unalloyed, Unassuming, Uncommon, Understandable, Undivided, Unique, Unlimited, Unstoppable, Uplifting, Upbeat, Uber, Unconvensional, Uhuh, Unbelieveable, Under control, Unquestionable, Utter amazment, Valiant, Valuable, Valid, Veridical, Valiant, Vibrant, Vigorous, Vigilant, Victorious, Visions, Vivid, Voluptuous, Vulnerary, Vulnerable, Venust, Veracious, Vestal, Violen, Vroom Vroom, Victory, Vows, Wake me up, Wise, Welsome, Well-behaved, Welcoming, Well-grounded, Woke, Whimsical, Whistler, Wholesome, Wired, Witty, Wondrous, Whilst, Winter, Wonderful, Wide-Awake, Walk it like I take it, ****-bang, Wishful, Wellness, Worth it, World-Class, Xo, Yolo, Zero

There was once a small, dying flower
Her beauty was dim
Thoughts trapped her from deep below
The roots that held her down made it hard to grow

She lived a life of solitude
No other flowers blossomed beside her
Her sweet aroma nobody smelt
In the lonely landscape in which she dwelt

But then there came a day when something happened
The piercing blue sky changed into oyster silver
And as the flower proceeded to slowly die in pain
The miracle came. Rain.

The rain fell from the sky like liquid jewels
Each drop nourished the flower
Although the rain didn’t realize at first
It had helped the flower overcome the worst

Through the air the rain and flower shared silent whispers
The rain understood the flower’s dying condition
The flower was relieved that someone else knew
Of the deep trauma that everyday grew

For many weeks the rain showered on
To help the flower continue to be strong
But the rain didn’t know of the flower’s underground roots
The rain wanted to know but the flower kept them as emotional loots

One day another accompanied the rain
A being called sunshine, a beaming white light
Though slight droppings of rain spluttered down from the sky
The flower was inevitably starting to die

The flower didn’t want the rain to know
How dependent she was of her nurturing
The flower stood while its immunity could run
As the rain started to fade into the sun

The flower should be glad that the rain started to calm
For the rain carried pain and distress from far above
So the flower carried the trauma and rejection
Into the roots where she was bullied by her reflection

The sun was kindhearted, pure and bright
It shone optimism and grace to all in its range
It was actually a key to the flower’s survival
But neglect and jealously made her the rival

The flower started to push the rain away
She didn’t want to hold the rain back from serenity
So the rain dripped off the darkening petals
As the flower wishes, the rain cools and settles

The rain disappeared in the light of the sun
Creating a spectrum of colours bleeding across the sky
The flower sighed in relief of the petrichor
As the flower died, and became no more.

Happy-hearted but not all there
His awkward smile lingers through my mind
             Peaceful,
             Yet Unforunate
That staggering physique & that waddling
            walk & that dauntful dance & that
            unstable eye: a precise entailment
            of his persona,  
                       though never ******
                                   never vacant
                                   never violent

                      ...UNTIL NOW

when the demon of his soul prevails
       no mercy
                     no mercy
                                    no mercy
Not even for a loving mother; a loving
     mother who provided a comforting
     home & the essential care & three
     daily dishes of food & the one thing
     a loving mother provides best:
              Unconditional Love
      
He is now ripped of a warm heart; will
he ever find salvation?

I hope so.

His possessed actions are ample
punishment and will eventually
tear the boy to shreds:

Those memories of an unreasonable death;
            a death that spilt blood into every
            crevice of his character
Those memories of innocent bloodshed;
             the blood of his own race...the
          same blood that stirs in his viens
Those memories of pure insanity;
    an insanity that taught anger
    the ways of mutilation
Those memories of his murdered mother;
         a "horrendous" scene that plays on
         constant repeat in his head
...and those future memories of remorse;
                    remorse for his ***** deeds
                     of spontaneous psychosis  

Yet,
his awkward smile
still lingers through
my mind


https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=349987311783508&set;=a.298260023622904.72189.100003167250519&type;=1&theater;

"There is without a doubt that this kid has something possessing him... I believe it wasn't him who killed the mother he loved with all his heart, how can such a kindhearted loving teenager change in less than two months and ****** the woman who loved him the most and who he loved. This teenager has a demon inside him.... look at the pictures ya'll.... on the right is him less than six months ago. He doesn't even look the same...."

The psychics were breathing smoke,
rummaging through my roommates collection of abstract art,
they told me what my favorite Modest Mouse album was,
they told me about my personality,
I told them I was a psychic,
they told me to *******.

Everyone assumes an original identity
in the self-inflicted apocalypse
provided by that old friend, alcohol.

Kevin was the smooth-talking,
drink-mixing extraordinaire.

Kara was the cynic.

Shawna was the kindhearted.

Evan was sober.

Tyler was in and out.

I was the ******* that took a party pill,
bounced off everyone with a handshake
and an apology.


We **** ourselves to resurrect,
piece together the discordance,
the chaos,
the girls.

While the psychics were breathing smoke,
while Kevin was collapsing,
while everyone was worried about me,
all I could say was,
"This is the happiest night of my life,
and that depresses the hell outta' me."

I longed for the sirens in the distance,
I took another drink,
I longed for renewed innocence,
I took another drink,
I longed for someone to lay beside me,
I took another drink,
it was finally enough.

I took off my shirt,
made war with the remnants of stability,
of sanity,
told my friends I loved them,
and hoped that my time ended in sync
with the sunrise.

"Nadia"
"Hope," it means.
"Beautiful," they say.
"Kind," she is.
"Caring," they are.

"Nadia."
She is the ever-hopeful,
The triply beautiful,
The very kindhearted,
The infinitely caring.

"Nadia"'s.
They are the unendingly positive,
The unfairly lovely,
The unduly affable,
The unfailingly kind.

"Nadia," oh, how she shines
So brightly, so comfortingly.
"Nadia," oh, how she loves
Without judgement or favor.
But I am not "Nadia."

I am Nadia.

Suffering from cabin fever, I raided my cache of end-time sardines and went slipping and sliding down to the dock to feed the near-shore birds.

One lone Repelican sat upon a bollard by the boat launch seeming frozen to the spot.  He was looking pretty grimm.

Taking pity on this cold, hungry waterbird former Marine-turned-Feeb, and apparently not stuck on I-275, this kindhearted Democrab was soon out of end-time sardines.

Telling him that I was sardine-poor but had one question I would like to ask concerning an investigation into questionable publicly financed bollard homesteading practices, the repugnant Repelican was not happy with me and stuck his long bill in my face while threatening to break me in half (like a boy) and throw me off of the effing dock before flapping away in a huff.

He called me later and asked to do lunch next week. Sardines on him.

r. ~  29Jan14

He bluntly crucified my friend
I’ve known liars, I‘ve known thieves
I’ve seen crooked lawyers in action
I was shocked by the jurors reaction
  I have study the body languages of the fibbers
Read between the lines of the tell-tales

But to concocted a preposterous but believable story
Just to feed it to the judge: That is so cold, yet so bold
I always believe in the old saying,
Only fools represent themselves in the courts of law
My heart bleeds for my dearest friend
His soul have grown weaker than elastic knicker

Akiane Kramarik  said
"No matter what happens around us, or to us, through love,
our soul reaches immortality, conquering all dimensions and all destinies

He had bathed in the forbidden sea, where the mermaid had warn him
Not to entered:, Where the daughters of Lucifer lured  kindhearted men from good homes

He builds their house near the sand, and it slowly sank
He looks out to the Atlantic Ocean,
for guidance and saw the raging waves

Then he remembers nights of unsettling dream:
He have known liars, he have known pain,
Somehow, it was hard for him to stay afloat in
the murky water  I’ve known liars

  I have listened to both sides:
but earlier this week the judge was so quick to chooses sides
Is this the end for my friend?

It's almost a year since i met this person
A year full of nonsense conversation
Happy moments and stupid confessions,
That makes me fall and have some illusions

He is one in a million kind creature
Who almost got those perfect feature,
The pointed nose and lips so thin,
He has the cute eyes and body that's lean

A kindhearted guy,so friendly and nice
His traits are enough,dont need an extra rice
A good follower and faithful servant of God,
Contented and satisfied:an obedient , happy lad

So tell me how can i forget this man?
Getting him out of my life is not even in my plan!
I just want to focus and don't be distracted
And keep myself from being so attracted

All I want is to save myself from so much pain,
Let go of the memories that hurts my brain
Destroy this world full of fantasy,
Change myself and be back in the reality

But are there ways to do such thing?
All I know is that he never care
I'm just a stupid girl who means nothing
And to notice me: He'll never ever dare!

I think I just need to be immediately awaken
From this stupid dream of mine
Be slap by the truth that he's heart is already taken,
And that he would never ever be mine!

He's a sweet talker.
A kindhearted charmer.
One, who knows ways to deceive a woman?
It's hard figuring you out.

Here you had a gentleman.
Okay.
Maybe not a perfect man.
But one that worked hard to provide.
It's hard figuring you out.

When you decided a unemployed guy was your choice.
He uses you.
Dictates to you.
Even call you a fool.
It's just hard figuring you out.

You go to work.
And give him your pay.
And tell you when to speak.
And limit what you say.
It's hard figuring you out.

When I know you use to not be this way.

over the phone you might think me
a kindhearted metro-****** with a deep voice
that lilts and appropriately pitches
to accommodate your ear
and manipulate your conception of me
so that you wont put a frowney face
nested in the message that im leaving
for someone else
above any "i" that might appear

but this vocal spirit only disguises
the less-than-cheeerful demeanor
with which i walk around
when i deftly cut of all communication
with the people that need me to be
something that makes them feel better
not only about my person
but humanity as a whole too

i have a
love hate relationship with phone voice
it often feels like im acting
i wrote and approved a script
where a melancholy person pretends
to be the most pleasant thing
that you have ever known

"yes, HULLLOOO! im looking to leave a message for
....[puke in mouth] heather"
and when that dreadful experience
wains and vanishes
i light another cigarette
slam down a shot glass
and growl
ghrryeeeeaaaaah

me again
***** with tobacco stained fingers
happy [through ingestion]
but still not that person
never phone voice happy

Be = Do = Have: I am Chant!!!
I am committed to being all the finest parts of me!!!
I am beautiful, unique, and astonishing!
I am loved, loving, and treasured!
I am empathetic, emotional, and kindhearted!
I am brave, courageous, and adventurous!
I am intelligent, adaptable, and organized!
I am well-built with my self-control, self-discipline, and drive!
I am inspirational, significant, and exceptional!
I am passionate, persistent, and precious!
I am energetic, motivated, and relentless!
I am a remarkable wife, mother, and companion!
I am an extraordinary human being!

Smiling kindhearted old man
Told me stories
How
He burnt the butterflies
How
He burnt human skin
Burnt villages
In burning squads
Of flamethrower men
Fire chased
Children and women
Over cliffs
Scares the **** out of me
To know that behind that smile
Is a dark hidden history

Sky is a taut, grey net spread,
at its  best in creating panic,
relentless day a brutish marauder,
drained of color of every kind, bleak,
even thought of you distant, my nectar
plays hide and seek, I am plunging
in a hallucinatory spin, down, down.

From inside a furnace closed
with a tight lid under which heat
in it's fiery glory permeates
like never before, a full- throated roar,
without any sound it travels around,
in waves after waves after waves,
to scorch every single thing under
the blood thirsty sun, on a hurried
march for revenge,green turbaned
trees and scarf adorned branches
changed all those embellishments
gone bone dry,now stand apologetic
like kids that made bed wet and caught
red handed, shrunk in shame and pain.

Narcolepsy reigns, drowsiness
day and night, like marijuana haze
follows.
            This summer makes its name stick
in bad books,making T.S.Eliot look
shame faced for calling one past tame April,
uncharitably the cruelest of it all.
But this, this is an unbridled wild horse
none can in no way do anything to stop.

When even the last drop of water from
the pond evaporates,sunburn peels the skin,
sun stroke down people, who are unaware,
cruelty of April, becomes monumental.

Perhaps in few days time May could barter
that bad name from April,I'd easily guess.

Buildings , in rows and rows lie, til horizon,
like blood drained corpses all though the day,
the  appetite for life, they evidently has lost.
Song birds on flowered trees, have gone mute,
doves scamper, dart in to the air, with hope
to get few drops of water  from somewhere

Kindhearted few fill water and feed on containers
for stray birds,taking cue from the practices of forefathers.
Change in climate is an ogre, that could with bare hands
smash pompous attitudes  and other human constructs!

Will there ever be a limit, to the red eyed monster,
avarice, we all pamper, within our inner courtyards,
that forces human beings to to do "Harakiri"
like a proud Samurai does with his own sword.

O my Lord, it’s another beautiful day;
I’m reminded that Your tender mercies,
have been released for my benefit again.
Having placed my trust only in You,
I pray to walk on paths of righteousness,
which are in accordance with Your Word.
Show me my lesson plan and journey for today,
as I yearn for Your kindhearted companionship.
Allow me to hear this morning’s song,
which resonates with Your… unfailing Love.



Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Psa 32:8, 37:23, 119:105-106, 143:8; Jer 29:11; Prov 3:5,16:9

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.

She is dark haired
Faired hair
Blue eyes
Brown eyes
The curvy perky pervy mermaid
Of quiet joys named Maria
The fairy queen of the Autumn roads
Master and mistress of mystery
Shaded tints
Of unknown
Digital history
Cloaked in anonymity
Baring my solemnity
Wearing layers of dignity
And desire
Is inspired
A crackling volcano
Of unmeasurable passions
A shadow thief who stole my heart
Monument made of more than beauty
By all the curiosities
Of Casual conversations
It is not out of obligation
Or out of courtesy that I court
Her kindhearted pleasure
It is merely for my pleasure
That I treasure such a jewel
I will never meet her in person
I will only know her in poetry and prose
And as far as that goes
It is a grand gift she bestows

satellites above your head
are blinking down not quite morse code:
they definitely wouldn't mind hanging out
whenever you have the time.
when they can't sleep
they think of stories you tell and rest easier for it.
stars and light from stars
that aren't anymore clutch
their metaphorical hearts over how good you are,
at how kindhearted you are, or if your heart is rage and fear
how kind you manage to be anyway.
the moon sees how hard you are trying
even on the days you don't leave your bed.
the moon loves you the way you are and she'll
love you when you change.
when you look at yourself and all you see is a parasite,
a waste of air, poison waiting to escape and it tastes
sour sour sour on your tongue and you realize
stopping this before more people are hurt
is your most compelling duty
the night sky wants you to stick around.

I am but a rose of beginning green,*
imprisoned to darkness all day,
within a monumental fiend,
who covers up the radiance that I want to give away

Occasionally a small opening would be sewn
into the darkness' fiery grasp
and your pure radiance could be shown
concealed in a kindhearted mask

Share your light with me
and for you I will light the way
wrapped in an unfamiliar livery
prepared for our intimacy till the end of our days

We will cross waters on a homebound stretch
and become fuel for our endurance,
so beautifully etched

I'll take my chances, following the sun
the garden we grow
means that together, we are one

Share your light with me,
and forever I will stay.
my petals can become your livery
we need each other, I daresay.

I am saddened by my betrayals,
Powered by my rage,
Reinforced by my despair,
My life has turned a new page.

My heart melted by fake love,
Shattered by the betrayal,
Hardened by revenge,
Cooled by prevail.

For you have broken my soul,
Into tiny, little bits,
Now I have put it back together,
Some parts might remiss.

I'm no longer the go-lucky girl,
Not kindhearted or shy,
Never going to trust again,
You can kiss that girl good-bye.

She is beautiful, and she is my friend.

She used to be blonde, but now has a mix of brown and red.
She's smaller than me, but about a year older.
She's smarter than me, and also taller.  

She is beautiful, and she is my friend.

She's kindhearted, and too lovely.
She's better than me, better at trusting people than me.
She knows what to say, and knows when to call *******.

She is beautiful, and she is my friend and I'm falling in love with her.

Metal contraption, I dutifully climb into you each day as the sun rises
and drive your clunky frame through the hills of a crowded campus
to face the questions and stares of the kindhearted and heartless.

I prefer you in short increments and, on weekdays only please
but I’m strapped into your metal ways at almost all times
and jostle along with each bump and crack in the sidewalk.

I hold tight to your rubber arms as we travel down the steep hills
and plow you through old man winters blinding white ways
for long stretches, in between short, fitful summers

I’m not pretending that I never curse you, because I do,
for sticking in gravel, grass and grout, breaking down
every Monday, or your front wheel falling off again

and yet you carry me faithfully to and from school and home
where I jump to the floor and embrace freedom and movement
until I climb again from bed and into mobility and its adventurous ways.