I know you want to be independent
and make yourself happy, but
I want this to be a partnership;
we both make each other happy
but we don't need each other to be happy.

Catharsis is a cleansing, so deep in every way
We don’t know where it will come from
It won’t come to us every day
It cleans the body, the soul, the psyche and the heart
So deep we didn’t know ‘twas there
But provides us with a restart.

Upon a time before this, my life had been so good
Simple certain, clear and loving
As every partnership should
A premature end arrived, so far before its time
Robbing life of its clarity
Leaving a mountainside to climb.

Starting out was a mission, sent from up above
‘Twas a journey without guidance
Rejecting and accepting love
The past had been long dying, the future not yet clear
The present was so uncertain
Waiting a word that I could hear.

She’d told me that I must go, my help was needed now
My future was now decided
A new furrow I was to plough
The route to go was unclear, masked by hidden pitfalls
Problems I’d not met before
Answers helping to scale walls.

The road was full of challenge, ignorance and mistakes
To rescue those who needed it
To rebuild there from life’s earthquakes
She told me of an angel, flying close to the ground
I knew that I would be left
Love was the greatest healer found.

Through this time of recovery, my life again seemed good
Simple certain, clear and loving
As every partnership should
The end came just as before, so far before its time
Robbing life of its clarity
Leaving a landslide to climb.

Starting again was so hard, no word from above
‘Twas a journey without guidance
Rejecting and accepting love
The past had been long dying, the future not yet clear
The present was so uncertain
Waiting a word that I could hear.

I hold my cards
close to my chest
on this night that is
oh so close.

No fan
to blow
air into my face,
not that it would
matter anyway.

The air
would just
remind me
that it is hot
this summer night.

I am drinking beers
while the fruit flies
are sharing with me.
No sense
in picking them
out of the cup..
more will arrive.

The woman
who lives upstairs,
how can she ride her bike,
on such a summer night.

I hear her,
it's the sound
of rowing,
a creak-creak-creak.

88 Willow,
the building with eight dwellings.

Through the open window
I hear a dog barking,
maybe two, three blocks away.

This building that I live in,
where the walls
are so thin
you know that
they have ears.
Have ears to hear.

Creak-creak-creak..
the woman is rowing,
her rowing machine rows
out into a great big sea
of imagination,
where there
is every kind
of sea creature
that you can conjure  
up in your mind.

And her
boyfriend, a fine
painter and sculpture.
He wants to do the
cover of my next book..

And I think, like that's ever going to happen.

My good friend
was over tonight,
he told me a story about
how he proposed
to his 'maritime' woman.

She cried and she cried
after she saw the ring,
not because it was so small,
but because she was
beside herself
in joyful delight.

I envy what it is they have,
but what they have
requires work, hard work.
They have one tried and true
partnership.

We talked about
reaching out to extended family,
as well as brothers and sisters in blood.

Me, of my own,
my father is turning eighty.
Eight decades and I know him not.
He fought
in the Korean War
and I've yet to ask him
about it.
Not once in my life time
has he even smelled
the wartime memories
that I am sure waft up
on occasion.

Now back to 88 Willow.

There is a drunkard
living in a basement apartment.
His legs are going
from wet brain.

He only calls me when
he is drunk.

He has two drinks and
he starts fumbling worse
than a line backer
intercepting
a foreword lateral pass.

I don't want to move,
though I know I have to,
to keep on keeping on,
I've got to move,
I have to move.


© 2013

CHORUS: O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots
Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom
Whence by what way how purposed art thou come
To this well-nightingaled vicinity?
My object in inquiring is to know.
But if you happen to be deaf and dumb
And do not understand a word I say,
Then wave your hand, to signify as much.

ALCMAEON: I journeyed hither a Boetian road.
CHORUS: Sailing on horseback, or with feet for oars?
ALCMAEON: Plying with speed my partnership of legs.
CHORUS: Beneath a shining or a rainy Zeus?
ALCMAEON: Mud's sister, not himself, adorns my shoes.
CHORUS: To learn your name would not displease me much.
ALCMAEON: Not all that men desire do they obtain.
CHORUS: Might I then hear at what thy presence shoots.
ALCMAEON: A shepherd's questioned mouth informed me that--
CHORUS: What? for I know not yet what you will say.
ALCMAEON: Nor will you ever, if you interrupt.
CHORUS: Proceed, and I will hold my speechless tongue.
ALCMAEON: This house was Eriphyle's, no one else's.
CHORUS: Nor did he shame his throat with shameful lies.
ALCMAEON: May I then enter, passing through the door?
CHORUS: Go chase into the house a lucky foot.
And, O my son, be, on the one hand, good,
And do not, on the other hand, be bad;
For that is much the safest plan.
ALCMAEON: I go into the house with heels and speed.

CHORUS

Strophe

In speculation
I would not willingly acquire a name
For ill-digested thought;
But after pondering much
To this conclusion I at last have come:
LIFE IS UNCERTAIN.
This truth I have written deep
In my reflective midriff
On tablets not of wax,
Nor with a pen did I inscribe it there,
For many reasons: LIFE, I say, IS NOT
A STRANGER TO UNCERTAINTY.
Not from the flight of omen-yelling fowls
This fact did I discover,
Nor did the Delphine tripod bark it out,
Nor yet Dodona.
Its native ingunuity sufficed
My self-taught diaphragm.

Antistrophe

Why should I mention
The Inachean daughter, loved of Zeus?
Her whom of old the gods,
More provident than kind,
Provided with four hoofs, two horns, one tail,
A gift not asked for,
And sent her forth to learn
The unfamiliar science
Of how to chew the cud.
She therefore, all about the Argive fields,
Went cropping pale green grass and nettle-tops,
Nor did they disagree with her.
But yet, howe'er nutritious, such repasts
I do not hanker after:
Never may Cypris for her seat select
My dappled liver!
Why should I mention Io? Why indeed?
I have no notion why.

Epode

But now does my boding heart,
Unhired, unaccompanied, sing
A strain not meet for the dance.
Yes even the palace appears
To my yoke of circular eyes
(The right, nor omit I the left)
Like a slaughterhouse, so to speak,
Garnished with woolly deaths
And many sphipwrecks of cows.
I therefore in a Cissian strain lament:
And to the rapid
Loud, linen-tattering thumps upon my chest
Resounds in concert
The battering of my unlucky head.

ERIPHYLE (within): O, I am smitten with a hatchet's jaw;
And that in deed and not in word alone.
CHORUS: I thought I heard a sound within the house
Unlike the voice of one that jumps for joy.
ERIPHYLE: He splits my skull, not in a friendly way,
Once more: he purposes to **** me dead.
CHORUS: I would not be reputed rash, but yet
I doubt if all be gay within the house.
ERIPHYLE: O! O! another stroke! that makes the third.
He stabs me to the heart against my wish.
CHORUS: If that be so, thy state of health is poor;
But thine arithmetic is quite correct.

There is one living
in every street
of this city
or more

they do not constitute a partnership
have no mores
nor do they share a front door

the shame keeps them
indoors, their actions in the shade
of the past, tucked away in deep drawers
behind bankthick vault doors

any reference to the events
from the past
may cause irreparable
damage to the
mental health

You are not alone.
     Or are you?

You shouldnt be.
      This is suppose to be a partnership.

But I am so alone.
     But I am so lonely.

.Soul in anguish,
Soul in torment,
Soul in delirium,
Soul in pain,
Soul in ecstasy,
Soul in anxiety,
Soul in frustration,
Soul in disdain.

Soul in passion,
Soul in laughter,
Soul in death and
Soul in life.
Soul in penitence,
Soul in reflection,
Soul in love and
Soul in strife.

Oh, my soul, you
Keep me dancing.
I can never
Dance alone.
I search for my
Soul’s companion.
Who will offer?
Is there one?

Here are now my
Suitors willing.
There is envy.
Look at hate.
Bitterness and
Self-absorption,
Pity looking
For a date.

What of vengeance,
Narcissism,
Self-indulgence
Dressed up fine,
Pride and guilt with
Sad depression,
Desperation,
What a line!

I have danced with
Every suitor,
And I’ve wondered
Who is mine?
I don’t want to
Lock into a
Partnership that
Doesn’t shine.

All of these have
Looked attractive,
Yet they weaken on the spins.
Where is one that
Lasts forever?  
I will only
Look at him.

I need one who
Will not fail me,
Leave me when the
Going’s tough,
One who’s strong and
Knows the dance steps.
Treading on my
Toes is rough!

Something deep
Within me tells me
Suitors there are
More than enough.
I must search the
Highest mountain
For the one whose
Name is Truth.

Mr. Truth will
Undergird my
Weakness, lift
My spirits high,
Warm my coldness,
Light my darkness,
Hold my trust as
He draws nigh.

He will lead me
Without falter
To a banquet
Richly spread.
I will follow
Every dance step
Waiting for the
Day we wed.

Then forever
All those suitors
And their lies will
Disappear.
There will only
Be the glory
Of beloved
Jesus here.

Semi-
——-

Something new, in our years of partnership,

during

the early morning semi’s, the half awake, yet
mostly asleep, passageway from rest to wake,
as per usual, I am awake before her, to write,
to think, to read, to do my variety of early morn
chores, but today, her semi is populated by a
new concern, an alert, mind programmed, silent,
no chirp, no beep, just human punctual new instinct,

let us
check if my man is alive and breathing, rub his
thankfully copious-headed hair & air supply,
rub-a-dub,
once, repeat twice, thrice, sense his beating brain,
confirming the night passage, always dangerous,
completed safely, for she feels my warmth, hears
my eyes-crinkle smiling, and ascertains, the
continuation of my existence and the statistical
probability, (her occupational hazard and habit)

that when

she crosses fulsome into the living day,
awakensgladly, that her not-too-hot-black
coffee, will be
mister milkman delivered on schedule with
a bedside delivery like clockwork-blonde, with a
half sheet of enwrapping paper towel within some
morning fruit, to  ensure that her coffee will have some company…

while she dances a beloved tango in her semi-,

I am:

in my only~pretending post-tense,
semi complimentary state,
mentally scrambling scribbling half a dozen
eggs of new poem ideas, mad pursuing these
very words, my way of saying good morning girl,
my beating heart muscling me to be sure I-remain,
in the good company of the Oompa-Loompas,
and yours too!

Part 1;* *Love

I want to climb inside your skin,
Make a home in your brain,
And listen.

I want to know more about you than anyone,
To predict what you’ll say,
But to listen regardless,
Because I love the way you say it.

I want to understand,
To feel each line on your skin,
And scar on the walls of your heart,
And to know the stories that made them.

I want to know you so well,
That sometimes we forget we’re two people,
When it’s late,
And we’re awake,
More comfortable together
Than we are in our own flesh.

Let me in. Let me wear you.
Let me know what it’s like to suffer your downs,
And ride your ups,
And I’ll show you my wounds,
And expose to you my thoughts,
Until we know each other
Better than we know ourselves.

Part 2; The Boy

If I am careless,
if I allow my mind to wander,
I sometimes still
taste
the smoke from your lips.

It’s the wrong place,
and the wrong time,
but my heart still
jumps
into my throat
when I remember your touch.

If I could pick up the phone,
and tell you how I miss those
stolen kisses,
I would.
But jeopardy terrifies me
and I’d rather not dive headfirst
down that whirlpool just yet.

Part 3; The Reconciliation

I know that we used to be
so different,
so full of life,
so full of love.

That you were once
energetic,
excited, and
enthralled,
and I, for a time,
was compassionate,
caring and
considered.

I know that we were once
different people,
with different stories
and different hopes.

We may have lost our way,
become somebody we wouldn’t even have
recognised as being
us,
if we met ourselves 5 years ago,
but remember that
we recognise each other now.

I know your innermost
thought
and your
deepest distaste,
and I will
never
ask you to be anybody but
who you are today.

We might not be the same people
we were when we were 15,
but we are people who have
grown together,
and laughed together,
and loved together,
and we are people who have shared
so much
it would be impossible to leave this partnership
whole.

We have fused souls.

And as much as we may reminisce
and remember who we
used to be,
let’s just tonight remember
something more important.

Let us remember
who we are now,
and that it would be more
difficult for me to
tear myself from you
than to tear myself in half.

Part 4; The Decline

Postpone.

The silence at home
kills me,
so what’s the harm in
one more smoke,
anyway?

I spent more time
travelling miles to see you,
than I would ever care to
admit,
battling on bikes,
through sleet and snow,
to spend 30 minutes
over coffee.

Where did that go?

Now my house is not
my home,
because space to breathe is
scarce
and I am breathless just thinking
of the travel to my front door.

What do you do when the foundations
become unglued?

Nothing can rebuild
something that’s not demolished,
but destitute.

Part 5; The End

I can see our future,
Clearly,
For the first time,
And I hate it.

There are no fuzzy young faces,
No unknown sticky fingers,
No pattering of
A strangers’ feet
That somehow sound like
Home.

All I see are false smiles
And fake conversations
And the knowledge that
I’ll never
Know you
Again.

Honestly, I loved you from the moment that we met

You were everything that I had been wanting but I just didn’t know it yet

Shared vague ideas about your store and I  initially wondered if it could be a success

Made very good use of my business card and boy, did you make me laugh

After listening to all of your messages, I realized you were on the right track

It was the perfect partnership in the making and I cut you some more slack

You have the aesthetic vision and I have the good management sense

We really compliment each other and my feelings are growing intense

I’ve never quite met anyone like you before

Let’s celebrate your birthday together and begin to explore

What’s possible when we spend more time together outside the store

Wait . . .

Did you know way back then after our very first kiss

That we would find in each other everything that we had wished

And that I’d be here in front of the love of my life today getting down on one knee

Or that you would be crying and saying yes, that you want to marry me

The news that Jonathan Anderson — a.k.a. J. W. Anderson — would live-stream his fall men’s show exclusively on Grindr, the gay social-networking app, has been the whispered, and then not-so-whispered, talk of the first days of men’s fashion week here. “Now there’s a show that would’ve looked good on Grindr,” one showgoer cracked to another about a collection that featured men in cutout trousers and one very visible pair of thong underwear.

On Sunday, just after 10 a.m., Mr. Anderson’s collection hit the runway and the Internet. Those unsuspecting souls surfing Grindr for lust or companionship were offered the chance to see his show unfold: its polka-dot furs and knitted trousers, appliquéd snails and boxing-boot shoes.

Whether it was what the virtually gathered crowd came to the app for or not, Grindr personnel were sanguine. “You know as well as I do, there are the fashion gays,” Landis Smithers, the company’s vice president of marketing, said in an interview last week. “They love them a show and an exclusive.”

Not everyone was as eager. In the immediate aftermath of the announcement, rumors circulated that model agencies were leery of sending their charges, many of them underage, to participate in the show. (To be live-streamed via Grindr is not the same as to use Grindr, though the company’s terms of service restrict use to those who are at least 18, and in some places, 21.)

But if there were holdouts among the models, it wasn’t immediately evident from the runway, and Mr. Anderson said that he had experienced pushback from potential collaborators only at the outset.

“I think at the beginning there was a bit of unknowingness, which was stressful,” he said. “But I believe in this project. I think it’s very important that brands explore media; I think it’s the only way forward. I don’t see any differentiation between Grindr and Tinder or any sort of dating app, or Instagram. I feel like people now can use any sort of social device to meet people.”The show’s final casting, he added, was “exactly the way it should be.”Among those who saw the show live, without having to resort to the app, the idea was largely popular.The rapper ASAP Rocky, waiting a turn to congratulate Mr. Anderson, expressed an appreciation for the silk pieces in the collection and the good vibes of the Grindr partnership. “I heard about that last minute,” he said. “Gay people supporting gays. That’s what it’s all about: support. I support everybody.”Some wariness persisted. “It is what it is, you know?” said one young model from the show when asked how he felt about appearing on Grindr, before reversing himself and declaring that he was uncomfortable answering the question. He declined to give his name.

“Some people don’t get it,” shrugged Michel Gaubert, the in-demand D.J. who provided the show’s thumping score, “But it’s the gay Facebook.” He called the idea to live-stream the show on the platform “fantastic.”

Certainly the possibilities are large on a platform that engages millions.“Every single person I know is on Grindr,” said Bryan Grey Yambao, better known as the blogger Bryanboy, after the show. (Even assuming some mild hyperbole on Mr. Yambao’s part, the numbers are formidable: seven million users by Grindr’s own estimate, as many as a million or more users are on the platform at any given moment.)He added: “I think it’s a great audience to tap into.”He said that he had downloaded the app that morning but had already deleted it.Whether that suggests less overlap between fashion obsessives and would-be couplers than Grindr might like remains to be seen. But according to Mr. Smithers, by Monday morning (an edited version of the video remained accessible via Grindr for 24 hours following its live debut), Mr. Anderson’s show had been streamed about 100,000 times, about a third of them during the event.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide

No song explains it, no poems I’ve read
So I guess I must write one, to express what’s dead
He loves me, I am sure
But my soul does he adore?
He loves me as we are supposed to
The way they tell you when you say “I do”
Here is the thing though, I must express
We have fallen way too far, the subject I must press
A marriage once made for love has changed
Now a business partnership, tasks exchanged
I know between us love is there
But it’s a chore now, what despair
“I cannot live without you.”
He says to me, but “I can’t live with you.”
I scream in my head
My soul almost dead
I do not blame you, or who you are
I blame us both, for driving this far
I must confess I wish we could…
But we cannot, it’s no longer any good
We deserve better, we deserve love
Not the kind that we have, as it’s fading
But the kind with clear cut passion, no shading
It’s the rare, true, and scariest goal
To find someone to love your soul
My heart sings for you, and what we built
My soul cries out to me, filled with guilt
For I have neglected it’s thirst for a drink
You see, that is more important, I think
To follow your soul, fill it with its desires
To explore and find adventures, until it expires
I cannot miss out on another cry
For my soul needs fed or it will die
I tried to express, what I now confess
I tried to express, I even gave you my compass
Maybe you have a different map
Is it worth it to try? Or is it a trap?
I must go now, as my soul has a call
To live life, and experience it all!

I love reading poetry on this site.

The most common used word is love.
Well, actually ambiguous is used a lot. I guess it makes people feel smart about themselves.

Anyway, everyone uses the word 'love', but has anyone experienced it or are we all deluding ourselves?

Besides the point, I've learned that if you want to succeed in writing on this site, you have to make sure you write about how you 'fell' in love and then follow it with 'heartbreak'.

You can be dark, and probably get some 'acclaim' from the broody broods.
Or you can not be completely pretentious and write something genuine.
Good luck, though. They'll call it cliche or cheesy.
So you deal with that...
But first thing is first: You must get artistic.

                                                    ­                                                       Do this
                                                            ­                                        because
                                                                ­                              it some how
                                                                ­                 makes it look like
                                                                ­              you
                                             ­                                        know
                                                                ­                              what
                                                                ­                                      you're
                                                                ­                                               doing.

Make sure
you seem like you
DO THIS
for a l
          i love you more than i can take
            vicious words cause my heart to break
               in god we trust our love forever
                 never be gone from me, oh no, not ever!
                    good bye my love i'll cherish you... ambiguously


Now let's get wordy.
Let's use some words entirely too much like...
AMBIGUOUS
Then after that, it'll be time to crack open the thesaurus and write words that you're not entirely sure that you're using correctly.

The ambiguous alligator bit with a fervor as the metamorphosis of his analysis changed what he thought (DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE). He was chased by hunters, but was devoid of a cwtch (yeah, that's a word. Maybe he's a welsh alligator. I don't know. Parts of this poem are meant to be...wait for it...ambiguous).

the
     alligator's
                   father
                            died
                                   in
                                       the
                                            great
                                                    alligator wars of 1
                                                               ­               9
                                                ­                              7
                                 ­                                             2012 was an okay year, though.

what a tragedy it is to be abstentious at a buffet...(end it ambiguously)
                                                                ­                                              end

Then we have some depressing stuff on this site. Not that there's anything wrong with writing something depressing, but usually it's kind of stuff that you'd read at a seventh grade poetry slam sponsored by Hot Topic and Van's Warped Tour in partnership with AXE Body Spray and Monster Energy Drink.

We'll call this one....

'pain, pain, and more pain'

I knew this girl
name was elle
she rang my heart
like a ******* bell

i was fourteen
she was fine
we had assigned seats next to each other
but her seat was inside of my mind

we talked about deep stuff
like really deep
she told me she had nightmares
and i said i had them too
BUT NOT ALL OF THEM ARE IN MY SLEEP

the real nightmare was that
she had a boyfriend
he treated her really well
but he was a ******* FOOTBALL PLAYER
**** **** **** LOVE IS A ******* HELL

why not me
why the tool
i can play six songs on the guitar
and my parents own a pool

i could have given you everything
i could have given you my heart on a string
but you cut it with your knife
and ******* did it sting

my heart is black
my emotions in a whirl
i'll be like this for two weeks
AT LEAST
until i talk to another girl


I just love some of the poetry I read on this site, and I hope you like mine.

Thanks, guys!

Sleep is not my friend
Yet I continue in my attempts to woo it
This unrequited love tires me
But I cannot rest for rest itself is my enemy
We remain star crossed lovers
Whilst separate we are pulled from each other
Yet when reunited our union is always bliss
Dreams are created as if children of our partnership
And hours pass watching them grow and flourish
In awakening I mourn the departure of the fully developed dreams
An emptiness flickers within that grows throughout the day
Sleep leaves me, for my longing pushes me to the verge of insanity
I am no longer attractive to its eye
And so here I lay as I do every morning
In hope that sleep comes home

Those eyes so sad
Watch your tail wag

Our Collie Labrador.
My loyal friend,
Love can never end:
We Love you more and more.

You have a mate,
A constant date,
She rolls all over the floor.

A lab and beagle partnership,
Bonnie and Clyde I quip:
Max and Promise at the door.

I take them for long walks,
And Max, he almost talks,
They know the score.

They’re on their way,
They’re here to stay,
They’ll never bore.

Promise prances,
And Max dances
All over that floor.

They lick my face,
Tongue-curled embrace:
That’s just what dogs are for.

Paul Butters

well d'uh, of course thinking can become more toxic
than the toxins "ruining" my kidneys liver and breath,
i'm not prone to automated cognition,
automated cognition is applicable to rudimentary tasks,
perfected in the lineage of manual labour,
and to be hanky panky frank, i sometimes wish my lived
revolved around a perfected manual labour,
than this scrap / dung-heap of writing.*

when i was making paella today
(kashmiri chilli powder is milder
than the usual ****!
paprika, turmeric, main ingredients:
mussels, prawns, chouriço -
match the c with the upper part of an s,
and the diacritic mark with the
lower part of the s, i.e. ɔ - chicken)
i had a thought, democracy, or current
democracy ought to be fed the f. d. Roosevelt
spirit of isolationism... this warring democratic
Zeitgeist can't go on forever...
there are no real city-state alliances
these days, e.g. manchester (osbourne's
northern powerhouse is competing
with the blond mop-head london of booritz)...
the countries being attacked are cities
in rubble... they can't couple city- and -state
together... they're given the option of
puppet nationalism... and cities can't function
under that... i think it's necessary to make
democracy less war-like, less warring,
it's exposing its weaknesses by warring
with its scientific strengths but its inherent
organic weaknesses, just today a heterosexual
couple couldn't tie the knot in a civil partnership...
because it appeared the church was pushing
subverters into secular ranks...
the secular ranks dismissed secularists for ****'s sake!
now they'll have to go back to the church
and tie the knot... it also appears secularism
is only reserved for homosexuals and confused
homosexuals (transgender peeps)...
i still think a warring democracy will not provide
an argument, a democracy practising f. d. Roosevelt's
isolationism would do itself justice,
after all we never hear of new york's grandfather:
york, england... do we? what's in york?
ah... no broadway... just a ****** cathedral and
an archbishop at war with the the archbishop of
****-and-berry.... nothing much... everyone
turns off their lights at 9pm for the early doze-off /
early rise... farmer folk... you know: baa'h baa'h
ol' mc'donald 'ad a farm.
i know that the grand city-states of our times
want Baghdad to join them...
i know... it's not really working out.

Walkabout started, in wilderness so bare
With no tracks, roads, homes nor cities in stare
Sticks and stones from my body, did tare
On horizon, welcome glitter of water’s glare
A sense of someone, something’s care
Cool, refreshing, revitalizing there’s no compare
From waterhole a single track, to sun’s lair

This narrow single track, evidence left by life
This road I follow, with mind set blithe
Into thick dark bushes, overgrown and rife
Thorns, cutting and tarring at my life
Pain and anguish, remind me, of life
I turn and look, at the ordeal, I survive
Following track, at cross road I arrive

Any one of four, to go
Back, I do not want to go
Right, a valley below
Left, more rocks and bushes on show
In front, a rainbow
The bow, proof of life bestow
I venture ahead, toward life’s flow

The single track, joined by another
A partnership, parallel to each other
Never did they join, in future
Along these tracks, I venture
These tracks, by contrast a pleasure
If cuts and bruises, the measure
My time on these tracks, I did treasure

Progress, tracks transformed to gravel way
I pass a house, where family could stay
I stopped, turned, looked and walked away
My essence, did not allow me to stray
“It’s not your destiny”, I heard the elders say
Discouraged disappointed lost, I started to pray
Again, a rainbow appeared, to point the way

As gravel way change, to road of tar
On the horizon, the evening star
Inviting noises and lights, of nearby bar
A lady, offer me a ride, with her in car
Voices of the elders, “You’ve already come this far”
If I quit now, this entire journey I did mar
With rainbow gone, I follow morning star


As road of tar, turn to gravel
I stop, turn and stare, with look of baffle
How can people be so concerned with trivial?
Can a single place, contain all that evil
Everyone treated, according to given label
I travel for myself, not to create a fable
In front of me, the rising sun marvel

Gravel road, turn twin track
As I put the city’s madness, to my back
The sun’s lair again my tack
My walk, more determined, there’s no turning back
Lessons learned and experiences stacked
For the remainder, there’s nothing I lack
This easy going, balance the rack

As one track, disappear
In my hand, I catch a joyful tear
Gone the lonely and disillusioned fear
To me, everything is no so clear
I shout out, in joyful cheer
This walk, empowered me to steer
I look to the future, through eyes so pure

I stroll into the wilderness, without a care
No more burdens, to bear
From me, all doubt was tare
In life, awaits no more scare
In front of me, a canvas made bare
A bright colorful future, in my stare
A future, with golden silver glare

My soul is the master,
My body is an obedient servant.
Without a soul,
My body is just a corpse,
A wasted husk.
The beauty of my body lies
when it is in partnership with my soul,
Just as you need to exercise and go to a gym to maintain your body's fitness,
You need to go to a mosque,church or temple to maintain your soul's purity.
Your body is a carcass that is going to decompose in the soil,
Your soul is destined for your hereafter,
Your soul will be accountable for your deeds good or bad,
Your soul will accumulate Allah's rewards and blessings.
That can only be done by fasting,praying and giving alms,
Not to forget pilgrimage,
Which imbibes piety and certainty in you,
Guards you against evil,
Restrains you from shameful and unjustful deeds,
Cleanses and purifies your soul,
So that  it leaves your body with least pain,
And the Angels come with joy to wrap in soft musk scented cloth,
And take you to your creator.
7/6/2019

From the first kiss
I know I didn't miss
My personal eccentric man
I'm your number one fan
To others you're a typical breed
But you're the different one I need
Sometimes my judgement is misguided to you
And at times you act improper, it's true
But together we guide
In each other we confide
The truth always be told
And the love will swiftly unfold
Our partnership becomes teamwork
To an ultimate "joint-effort" perk
The sacrifices we make
And the selflessness we take
Clashing together making us strong
Surly for us to last long
The hope, belief, and faith
Gives us less fear and more strength
Saying " we can" and "we will"
Knowing no matter what, I love you still
What ever we become of
It will be good because we grow with love

pete  called  me  and  said  that  he  wanted  to  talk  man  to   man  finally  battered  and    emontionally   wounded   he  said   his  girlfriend  was  gone  drained  and  tired  of  the   questionable  and  uncertain  path  the  relationship  had  taken  he  should've  realized  that  women,  like  men  need  emotional  nurturing   and  centering in  themselves- which  helps  them  to  grow  in   a   positive/sane  direction  i've  often  wondered  why  the  wrong  people  fall  in  love  and  become  a  pair... what  causes  cracks  in  the  foundation  of  love- some  warp  in  the chromosomes,some  flaw  in  the  genes, a thin  film of  paranoia   in  the  embryonic  sac ? is  it  the  stresses  of   modern  life  or  Mozart's  Requiem  of  the  full  moon   or no  moon? was  it  the  march  beyond   being   strangers,perhaps- that  destroyer  of  great  expectations? or  does  love  bring  forth  a   dormant  madness  that always  begins  on  a  day  that  other wise  seems  normal- beautiful even   fate  thubing its  nose  at the  future ? mutual  sharing  is  required  for  any  lasting  relationship  but  sharing is not  in  itself   what  i'm  talking  about   nor   is  relationship  i'm   talking  of   capacity  to  meet   and  be  met   in  the  soft  unkown  part  of  your being  such   meetings  from  time  to  time  are  the  essential   growing  points   in  any  live  relationship    can    hardly  be  used.  it  is  possible  i'm  sure  for  more  than  two  people  to  meet  at  the  same  time    the  modern  emphasis  on  relationships  between  only  two  people  can  degenerate   into   mere  exclusiveness  and  a  self-conscious  sharing  which  though  it  is,  may  become  an  infringement  of privacy,  or  an  abuse  of  intimacy. deliberate  sharing  is  sometimes  as  dangerous  as  sympathy  new  ideas  which  are  forming  in  the  depths  of  the  mind   can  actually  be  destroyed  or  crippled   by  being  shared  to  soon  it  is  like  dragging  a  baby  from  the  womb  before  it's  ready  to be  born  or  digging  up  a  tulip bulb  to  watch  the  sprouting  of  the  roots   respect  for  another  person's  privacy  is  as  important   as   sharing  thoughts   for  the  deepest  communication  will in  any case  take  place  in  moments  of  silence  every  time  i  think  its  one's  own  attitude, not  the relationship on  which  one  needs  to  work  its  a  fact   that  in  any  partnership  if  one  of  the  partners  becomes quite  clear  in  himself  what  it  is  that  the  situation  requires  the  chances  are  it  won't  even   be  necessary  to  voice  it   the  other  will   somehow pick  up  the  point  and  comply   with  no  words  said  internal  clarity  anywhere  seems  to  have  the  effect  of  an  invisible  guiding  force   which  can  be  trusted  to  affect  not  only  personal  relationships  but   other  situtions  for  the  person  who  has achieved  inner  clarity   new paths  appear  and  doors  open  without  the  need  to knock

My parents have been married for 32 years
Man that's longer than fermented beers
A love that flourished from just one hello
A model marriage that I want to one day show
People these days have lost this art of love
They wanna put themselves above everyone else
Not knowing how to compromise
See my parents taught me how to have a partnership
I'm not the type of woman to put a man down but uplift him cuz that's what my mom showed me
And I want a man who will appreciate and cherish me cuz that's want my daddy does for my mom
So we need to get back to where love is central
32 years...grandparents married for 70 so I have no choice but to make it work
32 years till forever


Love ya mom and dad!! Happy Anniversary!!

I am a girl.
See that. A girl.
I'm not a boy.
I got curves and long hair.
Nothing too scary…
Then why the hell won't you talk to me?
If that is what you want, me, then come on boys,
I am waiting. Patiently, wanting to be pursued with every bit of your energy,
I'll give you hints and lead you on, but come on,
It aint that hard to admit you like me,
I mean I may not feel the same,
But seriously,
This is not funny…
You can't call me pretty and then just do nothing,
No, don't walk away yet,
***** into my heart and then not commit,
What is this?
Did your mom's not teach you manners?
Playing your evil games with my lover hazy brain.
Admit it!
***, thats only what you want!
But please, I am not ******…
Neither am I that easy.
Break into my heart, and then rewire my veins,
What? Are you completely insane?
I desire a partnership!
God! Is that so **** deranged?
But no, your heart's too broken, or you just not that interested,
Please…
I will not press my lips upon yours,
The same old story once again

This  is  a noted   to  remind   us  all  to  grow  tired   of  any  questionable  and  uncertain  path   your   relationship  might  take   and  always  realize  that  women  like  emotional   nurturing  and  centering  in  themselves-  which  helps  them  to  grow  in  a  positive / sane  direction   i've  often  wondered  and  it  is't  a  pleasant  wonder   why   the   wrong  people   fall  in   love   and   become   a   pair - what  causes   cracks   in  the  foundation   of  love -  some  warp   in  the  chromosomes,   some  flaw  in  the  genes   a thin   film  of  paranoia  in  the  embryonic  sac ?  is  it   the  stresses  of  modern  life  or  Mozart's  Requiem  of  the  full  moon  or  no  moon  at  all?  was  it  the  march   beyond  being  strangers  perhaps-  that  destroyer  of  great  expectations ?  or  does  love   bring  forth  a  dormant  madness  that  always   begins  on  a  day  that  other wise  seems  normal -  beautiful  even, fate  thumbing  its  nose  at  the  future ?   mutual   sharing  is  required  for  any  lasting  relationship  but sharing  is  not  in itself   what  i'm  talking  about. nor  is   relationship.   i'm  talking   of  the  capacity  to   meet  and  be  met   such  meetings   from  time  to  time   are  the  essential  growing  points   in  any  live   relationship  could  hardly  be  used.    the  modern  emphasis  on  relationships  between  two  people  can   degenerate  into  mere  exclusiveness   and  a    self-conscious  sharing  which   valuable  though   it  is   may   become   an  infringement  of  privacy  or  an  abuse  of  intimacy.  deliberate  sharing  is   dangerous.  new   ideas  which   are  forming  in  the  dephs  of  the  mind  can  be  destroyed  or  crippled  by  being  shared  to  soon   it's  like  dragging  a  baby  from  the  womb  before  it's  ready  to  to  be  born   or  digging   a  tulip  bulb   up  to  watch  the  sprouting  of  the  roots   respect   for  another  person's  privacy  is  as   important   as    sharing  thoughts  the  deepest  communication  will  in   any  case  take  place  in  moments   of  silence    every   time  i  think   it  is  one's  own  attitude  not  the  the  relationship  on  which  one  needs  to  work  it's  a  fact  that  in  any  partnership   if  one  partner  becomes  quite   clear  in  himself  what  it  is  the  situation  requires   the  chances   are  it  will  not  even  be  necessary  to  voice  it   the  other   will  somehow  pick  up  the  point  and  comply  with  no  words  said   internal  clarity  anywhere   seems  to  have  the  effect   of  an  invisible  guiding  force   can  be  trusted  to  affect  not   only   personal  relationships  but   outer   situations   for   the  person  who  has  achieved  inner  clarity   new  paths   appear  and  doors  open    without  the  need   to  knock

I am the beautiful brown bear almost
golden, I wonder richly in contentment
around my mountain.
Like a monk I have humbleness and
touch my inner boundaries softly like
head snuggling a cushion.
I hold around me almost gingerly
the perfect blanket as I know the
importance of comfort.
I am the forever revolving river of time I
the the body of Vilvaldi's four seasons.
As I role cycle within cycle cog within cog
push against me you push against the
whole of nature.

I am not a strong soul but a weak as
I peep shyly through tiny eye holes
of my body.
You may know I am the master of cosy
cuddles and sleep for there is a reason you
give teddies to your children.
But cross the boundaries of my body and
you will find me as ferocious as a Lion
As you do not disturb me when sleeping
as you would not wake a volcanic mountain.
I am the deepest darkest cave as *** and
survival live some where on the outside.
Place your weapons by the door as all
defences are discarded as you drop
into this black silky bed.

I am a tiny mouse living in a great castle
a little pea rattling around a giant body.
I am a feather caught by the mighty wind
a drop of water in the oceanic sea as my body
always over powers me.
I surrender meekly one tiny white flag in front
of a huge ragging army.  
It is as though the night had a hand and with a
flick of a switch I am turned swiftly off.
While a heavenly goddess rolls sweetly into my
mattress.

I am the servant of my body who in turn is
the pupil of the mountain the assistant of
mother nature ruled by almighty God .
Las tin line I have humility as I know obeying
my body is also obeying God.
So I maybe last into the world but I am also first
into heaven.
As I show tender love for my body with my
observance she responds with her sensory
comforts.
We love and closeness to my body I receive
the perfect partnership

And when spring time comes my body palpates
and draws me forward itself dragged by a nose
ring the smell of salmon.
And when the body decides to attach I am in the back
carriage as wild horse gallop forward.
As I sometimes find I water ski through the summer
off my bodies collossal energy.
I love natures four seasons as on the dance floor I spiral
with my partner.
As we rush with excitement into spring and gently let go
into Autumn, like a pebble dropping down a well into the
winter fall.

I am a creature so intimate with nature my soul
can sometimes not tell the difference between
me and the mountain.

There is so much to learn from the beautiful bear
who lives gently with nature like a blanket and
sheet they lie perfectly together.

A promise is meant to be kept to the end
its an obligation
a contract if you will
not to be broken not to bend

My promise is quiet simple but all to real
love you forever
sharing my soul
for my heart you did steal

Give you my hand
give you my flesh
loyalty, honesty
passion, and trust

Truth is all a virtue I must uphold
respect, commitment
hold you and keep you safe
bring you back to health when you catch a cold

Communication will all be a must
no secrets
no lies
all for you my heart will always lust

Partnership, friendship
a love affair
keeping you intrigued

From hell to high water this promise I will keep
to be there at your waking moment
at your sleeping side
no boundary that I wont leap

All or nothing but I prefer to give my all
suggestions
or crazy ideas
but my love for you will never go into a stall

This is my promise to you and only you
till my life comes to an end
my love, I will always ,always be true.

This is more than a little thing
This is a forever partnership, friendship
This is more than just a *** and lust
This is a forever connection spoken through the physical
This is more than basic conversations
This is a forever search of a deeper intellectual stimulation
This is more than just getting along
This is a forever journey of laughter, affection, fun
This is more than arguing
This is a forever commitment to understanding
This is more than hearing each other
This is a forever devotion to listening and caring
This is more than confidence
This is a forever reliance on trust, loyalty, honesty
This is more than how you make me feel
This is a forever journey in exploring every depth of you
This is more than a young romance
This is a forever love

We're laying down the soil
Carefully, before the roots start to grow
And we'll nurture this on that day, and
For the rest of it's life, so

Why do we question each other?
It's healthy but seems reclusive
That we focus on ourselves
And try not to be more intrusive

Maybe that's what's best for us
We can tend to individual leaves
And when we meet back at the stem
We can discuss what's up our sleeves

Let's just try not to distance too far out
To where we pull too much sunlight
This needs to be an equal partnership
So this flower can withstand the night

But, right now, let's focus on the dirt

Dancing flaming lips
Bite me.
Hands around my hips.
Hold me.
Don't sin. You're pure.
Respect me.
You love me. are you sure?
Give me honesty.

Our partnership is based on trust.
Built on solid foundations with a super solid crust!

Trapped in the rabbit hole, forever a lifelong journey
To meet and greet the cards and paint the roses red.
Sipping tea from cups that look more like forks.
Where has the Hatter gone, along with his parter the Hare?
And what of Mr. Dormouse? He's gotta be in there.
The Queen of Hearts has faded away, like a palpitation.
The Cheshire cat has spent his nine, giggling in the dark.
Dare we speak of Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee?
They got a domestic partnership, and live forever as combs.
Then we come to the White Rabbit, who seemingly late
had to be eaten, and tasted rather great.
The most pleasing thing to my mind
Was that the flower bed, soft for chattering lilies and roses
Was now harder than fruitcake, severing their vocal chords.
Now they just stood there, silent and foreboding.
All the while, I was the hub of Wonderland.
That's what you get when an Amazon goes down the Rabbit hole.
(Inspired from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass)

Have you ever Know-ticed me?
I mean truly Know-ticed me,
Look through my eyes and into my soul to grasp who I sincerely was, am, and will be?
My internal splendor, no sugar
I don’t think you do…
You may think you know but it’s apparent that you have NO ******* IDEA!
Excuse the cliché but it served its purpose so let’s continue…
Do you Know-tice me?
Do you notice that my pain seems endless, as if the Emancipation Proclamation was just an urban legend and I’m experiencing the 5th century of my peoples enslavement?
Do you notice that my smile seems brokenly forced, only coming to life in the midst of dreams of being shipped home to you?
Do you notice that my heart is internally broken externally hidden only allowing the lurid utterances of, “I DON’T GIVE A *******!”?
Did you notice the trajectory of my tears detaching me from you?
Most importantly do you notice my undying love along with the uncompromising yearning I have for you?
All of which are mere memories like…
Your captivating voice, alluring me into riveting conversations that seems to be unforgettable something I can’t dismiss
Your slow touches
Your penetrating stares
Your unfathomable yet insinuating kisses
Your love or to put it quite simply your care because to love would be entirely too much for you at the time when time was nonexistent in my mind, no clock, I wanted to Know-tice you,
Nevertheless,
No I don’t think you Know-ticed!
If you did you would have noticed how I desire your affection and loath your constant dismissal of my essence
My existence seems to matter not but here I am… waiting and I can’t rest! Believe me you I’ve tried!
But then again maybe you do notice and although this may be the hardest to acknowledge on my behalf, I may have to come to terms that you DON’T ******* CARE!
Meaning… you would fail to notice that I’ve cut all emotional physical and mental ties with my heart only to join forces with my mind creating a relentless partnership against the thought of this empty middle’s sensitivity!
Or, that I can’t look at you without hurting!
Or, that I can’t lounge in your presence so silence becomes my friend, leaving me to become sworn enemies with verbal expression and these relationships coincidently only exists when you’re around!
And finally which holds even more significance, that I treasured you and still do as a lover but MORE as a friend!
But I don’t think you Know-tice!
I need you to know this is my own analysis and reaction to the entire state of our affair. So in response, I’ve come to the realization that you never noticed nor wanted to Know-tice me, everything just happened, it was ALL meaningless. So regardless of what I’ve felt, am feeling, or will feel! You become the commemoration, a constant but unconscious drive, of my callous feelings towards the possibility of ever wanting to Know-tice another, EVER again. I wanted, want, and will forever want to Know-tice you! But that doesn’t matter anymore because you’ll never notice sincerely my past, present or future, you treat them like me who you never did want to Know-tice!