"priscilla" poems
Hare Krishna's
In their Pickups
Depressed Comics
Down on their Luck
Teenage Girls
Screaming Meme's
****** Pinko's*
Leftward Leaning
Vincent Price
Flo and Eddie
Rodger Rabbit
Priscilla Presley
Nuns in Habits
Dwarf's in Ponchos
Deadbeat Dads
Munching Nachos
Right-Wing Nut Jobs
Trading Slogans
A few Hero's
Including Hogan
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Buddhist Monks
With Electric Banjos
Holding Signs Up
Of Marlon Brando
Taxi Cabs
Blaring Show Tunes
Pregnant Women
Down-loading Soon
Derby Jockeys
Flying Monkeys
Kool-Aidholics
Skittle Junkies
Bozo The Clown
Bumper Stickers
Psychedelic
Crazed Toad Lickers
Rhinestone Cowboys
In their Skivvies
Gothic Girls
Heebie Jeebies
Are just a few of the sights you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Blue Haired Granny's
In pink Moo Moos
Ballerina's In
Tattered Tutus
Mathematician's
Number Crunchers
Even have Some
Out to Lunchers
Model 50's
*Do *** Daddies*
One More Round Of
Flo and Eddie
People Sneaking
Across the Border
Lonely Fry Cooks
Taking Orders
A Few Wannabes
Not Saying Much
Will The Real Elvis
Please Stand Up
Are just a few of the sights that you see
At the front gates of Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
Thank you...Thank you very Much
Ladies and Gentlemen
Elvis...Has Left The Building
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
357
God is a distant—stately Lover—
Woos, as He states us—by His Son—
Verily, a Vicarious Courtship—
“Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were such an One—
But, lest the Soul—like fair “Priscilla”
Choose the Envoy—and spurn the Groom—
Vouches, with hyperbolic archness—
“Miles”, and “John Alden” were Synonym—
4.3k
*dear diary,
i have grown tired.
i am a shark in an ocean full of dolphins,
they taunt and threaten me.
i am alone.
mama and father do not care anymore,
money is the only concern.
i am alone.
grandma's growing old,
and grandpa's lost it.
i am alone.
curious stares at my arms,
everytime i walk into school.
i am alone.
they laugh as i stumble to get by,
they push and yell at me.
i am alone.
except i met a girl,
we'll call her "Priscilla".
she introduced me to her friend one day,
Mary Jane.
Mary Jane soothes me,
she calms me and comforts me.
Mary Jane helped me gain new friends,
everybody loves Mary Jane.
Mary Jane introduced me to a boy,
we'll call him "Kevin".
Kevin is very attractive, my dear diary,
i fantasize about him a lot.
we often hang out,
and he'll bring Mary Jane along.
one day he invited me to a party,
i hadn't been to a party in a very long time.
Mary Jane helped me get invited,
but i'd be too busy studying.
but it was Kevin who invited me,
dreamy, gorgeous, badboy Kevin.
of course,
i had to go, my dear diary.
Kevin ended up introducing me to his friend,
Molly.
Molly's small and fragile,
yet she's wild and crazy.
i think all Mollys are like that,
but she made me feel so alive.
i accepted her,
despite the warnings from other friends of Mary Jane.
Kevin invited me into a vacant bedroom,
he stole something dreadful from me.
i am free now.
mom and dad were worried when i got home,
supposedly my eyes were red and i was in a daze.
i told them to leave me alone,
my dearest diary.
and now it's time for you to leave me alone,
i need to go out and explore with Kevin.
Kevin will take care of me,
do not worry diary.
you will always be in my heart.*
-l.c.g.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
Very few men could live with her.
She was one who couldn’t get along with a man-any man.
She planted her love for men in a bitter root and sweet water that contaminated her perception about men and interrupted her peace. she loved the way his sweet smell lingered when he left her presence- but not anymore.
Thoughts running through her mind, she would think ” I gave him all I had, what more would he have wanted?”
” I gave her all I had”, he said.
He was always there for her, showering her with love and pocketful of romantic warmth. He was her morning dew that moisturized the wholeness of her heart.
But somewhere along the line, his love for her had become an ugly scene.
To a man, women are wicked. To a woman, men don’t deserve to live.
Human beings aren’t fair. That’s a fact! But you should take some time out to think about this, is life fair ??!!!
Pure love becomes a fairy tale when love knocks us hard to the ground.
It could take some of us days or years to recover from our emotionally transmitted diseases (ETDs).
I went blank for weeks and my experience within that period felt like paradise in hades.
I preferred to bottle up my hurts. I couldn’t trust anyone because I was shattered by the darkened side of my beloved. Candle lights were signs I could converse with. Stirring at them in the dark and knowing that time was only waxing away. I had faith in those candle lite forgetting about the Author of time who isn’t a subordinate to time but I’m subject to Him.
A heart ripped into pieces is uneasy to mend. I went to places, met new faces, smiled and laughed my head off when I met my old pals but the thoughts of my beloved was like a leech in my heart ******* the breath out of my life.
Love all you can and expect the worse from love. Be willing to take the risk.
A love story could either uplift your potentials or un make you completely .
To my young fellas, be careful who you let in to your heart
Priscilla Adams(AraSoul)
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
i can't put how much i love you into words; they tumble out of my mouth only to be left unspoken
when you walk, remember that you do not walk alone and you will never be forsaken
with arms that are barely strong enough, i'll carry you through the rain
i will kiss your broken parts until you are made whole again
a thousand sunsets may not be enough to depict your beauty
you will never know how much you are worth, you are just too witty
even if you offer me money, body, looks or even fame
i don't need them, i will kiss your broken parts until you are made whole again
i believe that you will get through this ordeal
whatever life throws at you, remember that patience is a virtue
even if you emerge, not the same;
i will still kiss your broken parts until you are made whole again
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Don't be fooled by the place it is sent to be
This is no poem no somg nothing to dance to
This is a hope that someone may read and reply
Their thoughts on this thought of mine
Perhaps I should tell a story through sonnet
Of a man of youth battling love and lust
Of sorrow and joy
A man who is flippant, almost overly so
But is serious about matters of the heart
A journey nonetheless
Where he travels many worlds yet goes nowhere
A story of me and how my life has been
With a touch of hyperbolic flamboyance
Would you sit down and read and maybe enjoy
Said work assuming it has been well developed
Amd lacks the typos this probably has?
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
Girl I Never Met
There's a girl I never met
But she seems so cool to me
She isn’t like any other girl I’ve known about, but we still need to meet
I only know so little, but I feel like its been a thousand years
Since the girl I never met has been with me and I have been with her
It seems as if my worries and insecurities all just float away
When the girl I never met will be coming over, I hope to stay
This girl I never met, but have so much I want to share
Will be a constant thought on my mind this just isn’t fair
I love this girl but afraid to tell her
Why have I come so close to meeting this girl I never met
Why is the anticipation like a knife almost cutting at my neck
I bet it’s because she is so great that there needs to be a rise
Before the epic ****** hits and I finally get to stare into her eyes
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
There has been darkness in my heart manifesting depression through my thoughts and its spreading like cancer to every part of me.
Transmitting shocks through my brain like my blood is the apex of an iceberg cutting out my joy.
For some reason I felt the need to pass out of earth.
The most dangerous thing about depression loneliness because you think no one understands you.
So then you suppress it. Burying under smiles that no one can detect it. Because you don’t want people to think you’re weak so you smile like a mime clown when you’re not really happy but your heart is playing the part of happiness when your heart is the ‘’dark night’’.
You cannot hide your true feelings trying to encourage broken people when your heart isn’t bailed for liberty.
You eat until you dry up the voices of weeping and mourning underneath your loneliness and you gain calories in your heart on the fact that you lack self-worth. Then it becomes so much easy to die then to live with your brokenness.
I know how it feels to feel like an outcast when the only option you have is playing chords with your fingers underneath your thighs.
I know how it feels to love genuinely but have in return a package of hatred.
I know how it feels to think about suicide more than to think about Jesus. Being scared to talk about your weakness because you’ll be tagged for backslidings.
I know how it feels to sing beyonce’s ‘’save the hero’’ to yourself even though it’s a secular song because you’re trying to re-boot your spirit telling yourself you’re a hero.
I know how it feels to feel hopeless that even life doesn’t smell good in your spirit.
I know it hurts to the bone!!
Jesus was flogged with whips, His flesh was ripped apart and exposed,the disgusting flames of people He was about to sacrifice His life for, was all over His wounded body just to take away this feeling of depression. This is why He said it is finished! If God made Jesus conquer death, what makes you think He can’t help you conquer life?!!
Therefore, I will boast in my weakness because His power is made perfect in my weakness.
I will play with my fingers the keys of my heart on the piano.
Eject the thoughts of negativity and press on the victory because the race is not to the swift but he that endures even in depression to the end.
Priscilla Adams(AraSoul)
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
This is our gamble
these cards on the table
neither of us
will be a sacrifice
your life
for mine
what kind of twisted fate
lays waste
to an innocent being
who was trapped in
a mechanical hell
As gunfire
and bonfires
chaos explodes
take my hand
and in our execution
let's both go
to Elysium.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
When did my feelings get so deep
Why did they take that big long leap
Going from friend to crush
What a rush
And I don't think she knows
Why does this happen when I'm always so strong
When people called me Superman I guess they were wrong
And I don't think she knows
I love her but I don't think she
Knows I want her but I don't
Think she knows
How do I tell her that I love her
Her name was a secret between
Me and my heart but I think you
all have to know her Priscilla
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
my only friend in the world and no one from occident to orient can (will) do
anything to lengthen her (battery) life
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
Swiftly so much to sweep
Helsing so deep the love hard to keep
Her words were off balance
Poem stanza Mama Mia all formed
Like a ballerina 575 Japanese Haiku
Designer Pucci Sochi releasing
so piercing garden jailed away
I begged I needed to feel guided
Maid hard-love of slavery
to the requiem the chariot of horses
Jumped like eyes of the demon
She pleaded with what corruption
Planes fired with struggling
Hearts became stronger
The taste was the different side
wicked fun animation
The men were changed
cruel love aviation
Needing the right ammunition
Prince Zar became 666 Stalin
Leadership of blackmail
Lips got sealed with more
love friction
Make your poems roll in
The Trump Tower polls in
Holy Gods Italian Collisuem
Every hour Poem maid
Requiem
The maid she had his words
Less communication so
***** what transcends
Your life depends?
"Delicious" Monsterous"
Only words "Devious"
maid Beauty and the beast
to digest
Destiny short poems of ecstasy
Oh! My She-locked
No heart or morals all locked
He wanted to steal her poems
Being conned into the heist
Higher walk with the rest
Poem Requiem palace
Hannibal Rising test
Watching her movements in
her lipping
She was home "Cruella" sweeping
Willow tree weeping new maid Priscilla
The Reign suffering minds of madness
Being ruled sweeping tears to clean up
Such wicked dirt Damon the ***** work
knowing to shut up what a ****
Feeling moved around "UHual"
Choked upon on my I-pad appalled
The masquerading social media mind
of Jekyll and Hyde poems
Her getaway poems not to be fooled
Terraced thousands of poems died
All betrayed upon with more deep lies
Important words to keep them alive
Saturday night poems stay alive
Stakeout Apps Presidency
Like a heart snack breakout
This was far from democracy
The "Quickie Requiem" for a
poem tricked over taken away
My best dream
Gripping love slightly in between
Doctor words to heal the King
his beeper the right timing
Save the poem not the Queen
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
ROMEO &
...MARY.
Romeo and
Juliet?
Romeo and Juliet
....is it?
Sure isn't that all
I ever hear!
That Shakespeare has a lot
to answer for!
See how he stitched up
that poor Richard the **** chap!
He can give a body
the ****
so he
can!
Twisting everything
into that Möbius strip
imagination of
his!
I got my Romeo
fair and square
...so I did!
Yeah yeah, I know
he still carries a torch
"Oh Juliet Juliet wherefore
art thou Juliet."
he cries
out in his sleep.
But, I don't care where
he gets his appetite
as long as he
eats at home!
Sometimes in the midst
of our...eh...great passions
he will call her
name instead
of mine
that filthy little swine.
Sometimes his mind will
even wander back to
to....what's her
face...oh...Rosalind.
Juliet married
Paris in Paris
had ten kids
lost her fine figure
ran to fat
imagine that!
I'd like to see her teach
the torches to burn bright
ha ha
nowadays!
And that, was( despite what
rot was wrote): THAT!
Rosalind had many many
husbands
none of them
her own!
Died of the pox
had it coming to her.
Me & my
hubby still
going strong
50 years married
this forthcoming
July now
put that in
your new biography
and tell it how
it is.
Romeo &
Mary Kathleen Priscilla O' Keefe.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
like Syd and Nancy
like Paul and Linda
like Kurt and Courtney
like John and Yoko
like Elvis and Priscilla
I want us to be reckless
I want us to be free
I want us to not to be afraid of what's coming
I want us to be just us
but I know it's not going to happen
Why should they care?
why should they say?
denial
go on
I know what you're thinking
and it's okay
irrational
nonsense
everything
you're just being bent
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
Don't call me Shirley (tribute to Leslie Nielson 11/28/2010)
sometimes you made me laugh so hard I cried
and a tear did fall when I learned that you died
a doctor with a growing nose in that crazy Airplane
we have to get this person to a hospital in words so plain
what is it a passenger inquires so sincere
a building with patients you made it clear
and when Priscilla climbed that ladder in the study
without even sneaking an up skirt glance
nice ****** was your comment nearly killed me buddy
one could only imagine she wasn't wearing pants
thanks I just had it stuffed was her retort
had to hit the pause and then restart
and the blinded detective with the Naked Gun
back when OJ was still a media prince
you and George kept those bad guys on the run
hasn't been a comic duo that good since
you left us all behind way way too early
just one more time "Dont call me Shirley"
Gomer LePoet...
Aug 30, 2011
Aug 30, 2011 at 10:12 PM UTC
I breathe in the salty, cool air
as we dig our toes into the sand.
Seagulls fly overhead, squawking,
but they do not disrupt my many thoughts:
Much like the sea, she is beauty incarnate;
Ever-flowing and serene.
Crashing waves upon the rock that which
signifies a timeless resilience,
and even in the darkest depths;
where no man thinks to tread, secrets wait
to be discovered and where my journey begins
I stand before her now,
looking into those captivating eyes
and wonder for what seems an eternity
how I could've possibly been blessed
that which captures the mysticism
of the sea, but I am indeed grateful
for even that is the least I could be.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Going
once
Hey
Buster!
1-desperately
Never want
The New Jersey
Wife-bra
That drops down
Actress Fakes
Going firm up__
Hollywoods
La Femme
Frenchie
Her Roast beans
cup
2- twins bark
pup
Bra me=
I'm +Robin Birdie
Told me
((Never Ha Me))
2-Bustiers
equally
Tara twice La
Him musketeers
- duh Harrah
Sara Smile- Huh
Santa's trainer-Shy Spanish fly
blush Fly Robin Disco pry
Twirled together
Behind the
curtain
Dorothy & Toto bra click my red slippers home-
Girl scout brownies
The bra course
boom!!
Never bust room!!
Mystic
Falls Vamp-hire
[.
[.
Trump-her
Naughty
Tara La Bra-ly
Hybrid
Which one
Is the
Witch
wizardly bra?
The good
Linda witch
Jinx
Jalapeno
Never a
Prince
She's allergic
Like Tied- ankle
slipper
Cozy Curry
Bra Chicken
Terror Terry
Bra trader
Villalobos
Snackerro's
"La Bra land"
"One Chosen Bra"
Sultry\ steampunk
Bra- link
Blonde
niche
Patriotic
Red- blood- white
The King Elvis
Being Launched
Queen Priscilla
size
Tara La
"Historical" Aint nothing but a hound dog*
The girl has rocks in her head
gone stupid in bed
she couldn't lift
her underarms
Scarlett has gone-----
with her friends' lover
Never a bra
with firearms
((Never B-B Tara La))
Her
long
neck______
Vampire Diaries
Disease VD
Pour bra Scotch
"0" outcasting
Tomato Pie
Lace box
"Robin
Redbreast
take-off
wizardly
Ozfully-set
She was
born
like
that
bra
Lady
GaGa
Singer
Robin-Hood me
blood bra orders
Where's your Bra?
High Dalmatian
demand
bone-fish bra
So many Men
Gondola Tara La
Venice
Chinese
Cat-talk
Siamese bra
takeout
Catstick______
faceoff be quick
Bra \off
this is
Taras turf
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
pretty fragrances worn by ladies everywhere
pop a dab behind the ears and on the wrists
petals of roses crushed to make sweet scent
Priscilla my friend is a fan of English Lavender
perfume lingers in a room like a memory
pleasantly the smell of these stunning bouquets
perfect presents for a lady's Christmas box
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
Don't call me Shirley
(tribute to Leslie Nielson 11/28/2010)
sometimes you made me laugh so hard I cried
and a tear did fall when I learned that you died
a doctor with a growing nose in that crazy Airplane
we have to get this person to a hospital in words so plain
what is it a passenger inquires so sincere
a building with patients you made it clear
and when Priscilla climbed that ladder in the study
without even sneaking an up skirt glance
nice ****** was your comment nearly killed me buddy
one could only imagine she wasn't wearing pants
thanks I just had it stuffed was her retort
had to hit the pause and then restart
and the blinded detective with the Naked Gun
back when OJ was still a media prince
you and George kept those bad guys on the run
hasn't been a comic duo that good since
you left us all behind way way too early
just one more time "Dont call me Shirley"
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
"Let Me"
This is the oppsite of loves Abyss.
I am Awaken me with warm hugs, and The fragrant smell of your sweet Chocolate passionate kisses while telling me you miss this. Cant you be my Mr. And Ill be your Mrs.?
Let me be your genie as I grant you three wishes.
Let me take a ride in your mind like a test drive in a new car just to see the real beauty in you and who you truely are.
Let me be your tour guide as you sit back relax and enjoy this ride but keep your ears and eyes open wide so I can show you the things I have been trying to hide and disclose to you information that has been classified.
Let me Be your bonnie and you'll be my Clyde. For you I willing take a bullet and die.
Let me Take your hands and rub them slowly all over my front and back side.
Let us make a California King Bed full of white, pink, and red rose pedals in which we both will lie
Let me drank from your fountain of youth and get a creatively euphoric high
Let me Tell you your thoughts That I can hear coming from your heart and mind inside.
Let me have a piece of you just to consume.
In your life Let me be just as a metaphoring caterpillar in a cocoon turning into a butterfly soon
Like a purple priscilla flower
Gaining its God given power
Between the Spring's early rising of the sun to magical Fluorescent colors of the the moon as its preparing to blossom and bloom.
Let me get hooked on you like a pain killer prescription
Let me have you as my favorite addiction
Let me Feed my mental temple knowledge from the chapters worded in your paperback novel of non-fiction.
Now ill let you grab the body of my guitar, grip my mic and sing like a star as your soothing barry white voice sends quivers that travels distances over my soul near and far.
But you must Hand me the lighter
So In The quintessential part of you I can ignite a wild fire with hot blooded flames burning with heartfelt desires.
Let me intensify your pneuma taking your higher and higher.
Let me my love sedate you like Tranqulizer.
Let me decode your messages as if I am your decipher.
To love you have been a backslider.
Let my baptize ya
Purify ya.
Listen to your inner being and let our vibes guide ya.
This is a message to my peace King........Holler ✌
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 10:08 PM UTC
The flowers grew from the craters where
The bombs ripped open the ground,
Back in that terrible time of war
When God in his heavens frowned,
I just remember destruction, piles
Of bricks where houses had stood,
And years along, new growth began
Where Airmen lay in the wood.
Their plane came down in the poplar trees
That had stood in a long, straight line,
Tearing a swathe of destruction through
Where we’d played in a former time,
And just beyond was the surgeon’s house
That had boasted a Roman Spa,
Now flat, and exposing the Roman Tiles
That survived the previous war.
I’d go down there with Priscilla, who
Lived out by the railway track,
We’d play our games in the cellars
That had lain open, since the attack.
I hadn’t taken much notice of
The flowers that grew in the weeds,
That sprang into life like mushrooms, when
The bombs had scattered their seeds.
Priscilla did, she would smell the scent
That had wafted up from the flowers,
And say, ‘I’ve never seen these before,
They’re new, they’re meant to be ours.’
She’d pick the flowers and take them home
And attempt to make them thrive,
But once removed from their sacred ground
They’d rarely stay alive.
I didn’t handle the flowers as much
So I wasn’t quite as ill,
When she went down with a jaundice that
The doctors couldn’t heal.
They tried their best and they traced it to
The flowers she’d taken home,
A level of radioactivity
Was the reason that they’d grown.
The ground has been cordoned off for good
With a special yellow tape,
While she and I are forbidden to go
To the place that was our escape.
They keep her tied to a wheelchair where
They attempt to hide her sores,
While I’m in a sort of cage since I
Grew skin like the dinosaurs.
David Lewis Paget
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Seven men who carry a burden on their back
the sins of their fathers who adequately lack
ability to tackle tempting earthly things
a heavy load is born and no solace does it bring
The first is Lustful Harry who desires sins of the flesh
never will he marry or nurture babes to nest
his needs are physical and he knows no other life
lustful thoughts and deeds only bringing strife
Gluttonous Georgie Porgy eats his way through cakes
gorging on sweet meats and plenty of fat he makes
drinking and eating all day and through the night
much too fat to walk and much too slow to fight
The third is Greedy Greta who never has enough
she hoards and always wanting more and more stuff
never being satisfied, gaining is her only plight
possessing everything fills her thoughts day and night
Lazy Larry likes to live life horizontal
lying on the coach or in bed is rudimental
his feet elevated never going anywhere
idle and slothful never moving from his chair
Wrathful Wally stirs up anger in his veins
always moody, his happiness is in chains
vengeful and hateful is the monster he's become
indignation and displeasure means he never sees the sun
Envious Enid resentful toward others
green are the colours of her lonely bed covers
jealous of her neighbours and envious of her brothers
her goal in life is ****** as she never quite recovers
The last is Proud Priscilla who has enormous self worth
dignified and haughty, excessively procured
too high and mighty to accept the hand of charity
inordinate self esteem amidst much insincerity
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
Seven men who carry a burden on their back
the sins of their fathers who adequately lack
ability to tackle tempting earthly things
a heavy load is born and no solace does it bring
The first is Lustful Harry who desires sins of the flesh
never will he marry or nurture babes in the nest
his needs are physical and he knows no other life
lustful thoughts and deeds only bringing strife
Gluttonous Georgie Porgy eats his way through cakes
gorging on sweet meats and plenty of fat he makes
drinking and eating all day and through the night
much too fat to walk and much too slow to fight
The third is Greedy Greta who never has enough
she hoards and always wanting more and more stuff
never being satisfied, gaining is her only plight
possessing many things fills her thoughts every night
Lazy Larry likes to live life horizontal
lying on the coach or in bed is rudimental
his feet elevated never going anywhere
idle and slothful never moving from his chair
Wrathful Wally stirs up anger in his veins
always moody, his happiness is in chains
vengeful and hateful is the monster he's become
indignation and displeasure means he never sees the sun
Envious Enid resentful toward others
green are the colours of her lonely bed covers
jealous of her neighbours and envious of her brothers
her goal in life is ****** as she never quite recovers
The last is Proud Priscilla who has enormous self worth
dignified and haughty, excessively procured
too high and mighty to accept the hand of charity
inordinate self esteem amidst much insincerity
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
I’ll turn,
you
into a poem,
So then,
you
I can keep,
Take a seat,
concrete
your my evidence,
Discrete,
with elite
hide in my closet,
This ink,
was meant
just for you,
Are you aware,
of just how
significant you are,
My dear,
my armor
is what shields you,
A golden halo,
illuminates the streaks
of your hair,
Like hope across,
your head
oh ye of much faith,
Landscape,
your mindscape
it’s all the same,
The way you,
grab hold
of my thoughts,
Sensible you,
How I dream
of you,
Our time,
is near to
conquer defeat,
Hold onto,
my hand
without doubt,
Am I,
good enough
for you,
You came,
knocking at
my door with love,
The love,
from within
will never die,
Your exuberant
heart is a gift
from God.
-A poem by Kev Chino’
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 9:07 AM UTC