full of anxiety
don't know what to do
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?

fear is disabling
I feel like fleeing or fighting
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?

anger is so powerful
it builds up to implode or explode
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?

I have a habit
that keeps repeating itself
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?

My habit is still there
do I beat myself up?
take a pause that refreshes ~ and ask
what would my soul do?

it takes practice and compassion
to engage our soul
take a pause that refreshes ~
as we allow our soul to grow

Sitting on my back porch,
Hemet in April once again,
My garden abloom:
Bright reds and orange,
Purple, blues & white, &
Of course, green everywhere.
Last night in her loving arms,
A tune still fresh this morning—
Background music in my mind.
(The Pointer Sisters - Slow Hand - YouTube Artist: The Pointer Sisters
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnVOt2LK2Gg  Album: Black & White Released: 1981 Full lyrics on GooglePlay Nominations: Grammy Award for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals)
($Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching!$
The poet finally figuring out
How To Make Poetry Pay:
Sell ad space right in the middle
Of the ******* poem!$)

Lyrics: “I want a man with a slow hand/
I want a lover with an easy touch/
I want somebody who will spend some time/
Not come and go in a heated rush…”

Did Anita Pointer ever ******* nail it?
An instructional instruction manual for men,
What women really want,
Never so explicably explained:    
“It’s the ****, Stupid!”
McLuhan: the massage is the message,
Literally, cliterally,
The Pause That refreshes.

(The Pause That Refreshes - More Than A Minute morethanaminute.com/ the-pause-that-refreshes. Coca Cola first introduced this marketing slogan more than 80 years ago. If you ask me, they were way ahead of their time. More & ...”

$Ka-Ching, Babaloo!$

“The love betweenness^ a mother and her son”
when it’s healthy strong and ancient,
like this, is for me, and it seems,
for you as well, almost a supernatural force in certain ways.
I know many other women who understand this.
It’s been probably the best surprise of my life.” Medusa

sometime, a poem commission needs a quiet time rumination,
a seventh inning time out to birth a perfect game,
a mental stretch mark,
did your know your commentation was a commandation,
write me up, punch my ticket and jump back into murky waters,
where a hu-man boy child only gifted me a tertiary imagination, comprehensive incomprehension

this look upon differing and different, parenting parts of me,
with the bright den mother’s sun gazing eyes of a new motherland,
promotion to an incessant guardianship,
an ordered mathematical centrality,^
a forever buck private’s uniform shoulder stripe pointing to mom

maternal rhymes with eternal

for children go off and go on about their lives,
occasionally glancing backwards,
but a mother’s eyes are an all encompassing, an all white canvass painting that the artist continue-ously slyly forward refreshes,
forever white repainted with each perpetual glancing thought added

this mother woke, sensing her make-male creation
is a gender separate separation,
a mystery needing learning, genes requiring a crisper adult education, a breast refilling is a sharing, eye to eye,  
****** to mouth, transferring a transformation,
between a new meaningful, an analogy of understanding that
swims in both directions, across a uniting natural division that unites,  better called an open boundary

daughters are different but the insanity~same,
a poem for another day

a supernatural surprise that occurs daily,
that you rightly appel it, as ancient  is correctly unsurprising
for the knowledge is in every cell recorded, time immemorial

apologies;
my insufficient words
can’t explain this
dotted line division,
only that, I too am a student driver mother,
my son, a teacher,  a natural scholar,
the understanding we shared is instantaneous and confusing,
as we go back and forth together,
travellers tween the dotted line spaces,
absorbing his milky ways,
informations that were not obviously ****** in me, or if they were,
awaited this suckling’s coronation and education, invitation


our differences are not a true division,
but a new manner of best embracing

which is why with good humor, our private joking, is that he
is my very own  nap-ster master,^^ we are an ordered centrality^

Walking in the rain...
It refreshes your mind, body and soul to the point that your barriers and walls don't exist anymore.
No one can distinguish tears streaming down your face from rain drops collecting on your cheeks.
But, it makes you remember everything you've been through,
And all the pain rushes back so that you can understand that deep down it was necessary, unknown, but in someway.
Throwing yourself to the ground.
You wish it all away.
Grip you head.
Falling...
There is no more.
Not until the smell of petrichor

her milk is him

her eyes are full of good tidings,
washing my body with lavender soap cake,
all the dirt crumbs of a hard life drained
into a circle of holes that carry away carings,
to places where their squeaking can’t be heard

her hands, pillows for a head so sorrow-weighty,
her body, her hips, a bed upon to rest,
and he wonders,
how did he exist before she become his nest,
her hair of grass, now, a coverlet for twigs and strings,
when then he laid his body down for disturbed sleep

her milk is him, a restorative that refreshes his content,
how did, once upon a time, he let existence subtract
his time on earth without any relativity, time unrecognizable,
he was in no one place, pathless, subsidizing nothing,
unable to distinguish tween the straight and the curved

her milk in him, whitens his soul, she calls out,
“you are my shepherd, my king, my David,
my white marble sculpture of our current existence,
when you drink the white of me, it is I who is fulfilled,
when you write of me, your milk is me”

I was asked to talk on hope so… This was presented March 12, 2009 for a  “Celebrate Recovery” session.

===================================================

My­ daughter asked me where I was going this evening. I said I was going to “Celebrate Recover” meeting to give a talk on HOPE.  She asked, “what are you recovering from dad?’  I told her” My name is John and I am a recovering parent.”  She was rather amused.

Hope. When all is going well and the world seems to be heading your direction… you maybe don’t need hope or think about hope very much. If you do it might be rather superficial as in “I hope I get to work on time”. Personally, right now, “I hope I can get through this talk on hope.”

When life puts you through a trial by fire and all seems hopeless in the eyes of man, when all is burned away such as pride, selfishness, lust, ( insert your favorite hang up here)… all that is left is hope and faith. For me pride evaporated. I had and still have a bumper sticker which says “Proud parent of an O’Leary Junior high student.” The bumper sticker has faded into near nothingness now but it is a reminder of what was left for me. Hope and faith were still standing tall. Pride faded into the past and hope refreshes the vision of the future.

Hopes in our past are probably gone or maybe faded like the bumper sticker. We must look for new hope from Jesus’ words and His life. We must base our hope on Him, live in Him, trust in Him and never give up.

Most of my life, I have been the type who could fix things. Then the reality that my youngest daughter was broken and I could not fix her nearly shattered my life. As hard as we may try we can not live the life of someone else for them. Alcohol and drugs had apparently triggered bi-polar tendencies and she went from a straight A student to a total failure in a matter of months. It was very difficult to understand or even accept that this was happening to our family. For some time the guilt factor was rather great. Where did we go wrong? Why is this happening to OUR family?

The next two years spun totally out of control. Counseling and therapy seemed to make the situation worse. I remember saying in one session, “I feel as if she is on the other side of a glass wall. There is a door in the wall but there is no handle on my side to open it. As I pound on the door, she is bleeding to death and she will not or can not open the door and let me in to help her.” I felt helpless and there was little hope. Life as we knew it was slipping away and it would never be the same again.

Skip forward to May 6, 2003. At work, I received a call from a credit card company and they ask, “did you make such and such purchases? No.” They put a stop on all activity on the card. I went home and found my card in my daughter’s room. I told her to get dressed we are going to take a ride. She got some clothes on and we went down to the Sheriff’s office. A couple hours went by as we sat on a bench and waited. Our hearts sank as we watched her taken out of the sheriff’s office in chains to juvenile detention.  

This was the turning point of hope. It was going to be a promise of new hope or a train wreck. It all depended on the decisions she would make in changing her life style. There was a light at the end of the tunnel and I hoped it was not an oncoming train. After 20 days of detention and another 30 days house detention, we made a trip to the Walker Center where she would spend the next 30 days. It was not an easy 30 days and there were some very tense moments. About 3 weeks into the 30 days, there were three intense days of family sessions. On the second day of the family sessions at the Walker Center, we were on our way home and for the next two hours, I felt compelled to write this piece. I could not stop writing. It just flowed out of the pen from the interaction with parents and our children.

“My Name is __.
I am a Dopeless Hope Addict.”
© (7-25-03) John L. Stevens

Life seemed to ****.
The pain seemed so real.
The drugs seemed so easy
To change what I did feel.

At first it seemed to help
To cover up the pain.
But the ******* sound I heard
Was my life, down the drain.

The hole I found myself in
Got deeper by the day.
Hope seemed to fade from me
That help was on the way.

The help I sought and found
Was the “friends” who got me here.
Those who had the ***, the ****,
The drugs and the beer.

The family I once had loved,
Seemed distant from me now.
My love had turned to hate
By the love of drugs somehow.

The hole caved in on me
From a distance I could hear.
“We loved her, Oh so very much”
“We failed her. Somehow my Dear.”

They pulled me from the darkest hole
I, myself, had dug.
And took me into their arms
To rescue me from drug.

The days turned into many weeks.
My head began to clear,
To see the ones who really love me.
My hate was not so near.

A cloud of doubt and guilt rained down
For the things I had done.
Soon love returned to fill my heart
Where once the drugs had won.

Forgiveness came from those who loved,
To me, for the many years.
For the pain and sorrow I had caused
To them, through many tears.

A group of families gathered ’round
With love so great for me.
I soon discovered through the tears
Their abundant love was free.

I felt the love of those who care.
I learned to love again.
To care once more for what I’d lost.
To trust and live within.

When temptation comes to my door
To offer me a high.
Let Love instead answer the knock
And with Serenity say – goodbye!
——————————————-

This story has not ended. It will continue for a life time. Life is about choices we make on a daily basis. It dictates what we will possibly do tomorrow based on what we do today. Life is built on choices. The end of the story will be written when we meet the One who loves us unconditionally. The One who died on the Cross for us.

Love triumphs over adversity when God is in it. In the vernacular of Lola of “Charley and Lola “Never, never, never, ever give up” must be the words to live by. Progress is made even when there are two steps forward and one step back. Thank God for the progress. Hope lives on in the hearts of those who trust Him.
======================================================

A strange feeling set in during the time she was in detention and a ward of the court. We could sleep at night. We knew she was in a safe place and not running in the drug culture. It meant we would not get a call in the middle of the night to identify her body. It was the first time in a long time we could breathe.

On Father’s Day that year, my daughter wrote me a two page letter, a beautiful letter saying she understood why we did what we did. I treasure this letter. Tough love does not get any tougher. It was very tough on us. Most every night the last few years when I go to bed and she is awake, I hear this little voice as I pass her bed room, “Goodnight Daddy, I love you.” “I love you too, Sweetheart.” It melts my heart every time.

As I lay my head on the pillow my thoughts most every night are, “thank you Father for this day. Thank you for my daughter, thank you for letting us be her parents.” And with that, all is well in the world.


Faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love. Without love there would in all likelihood not be very much faith and hope hanging around. God’s love for us is so great, how can we not give our love to our children and each other, unconditionally, as an extension of His love for us? The story of the prodigal son was ever on my mind. A story of never ending love and hope on the part of the Father.

My hope is in the eternal Jesus who has promised to never leave me or forsake me.

I can not imagine living my life without hope. I can not imagine living without the love of God.

Spring of 2002 unraveled for a friend of mine. His wife got sick, his mother came out to help them and she had heart failure and died in the hospital one floor below where his wife was located. A month later his wife died, he lost his job, a vertebrae in his neck deteriorated, his insurance evaporated. It was Job all over again. We spent many hours of many days trying to make sense of his situation. It seemed pointless. Absolutely hopeless. I can remember a cold fear pouring over me. There was nothing I could do to help him.

I wrote a piece called “Hope for Tomorrow” a couple months later that reflected his loss and my loss when my mother died 1991. Writing is therapy for me. Writing puts on paper a reminder of where I am at that time. The words of this piece points to the loss of a loved one but the thoughts can translate to any loss.

Hope for Tomorrow
© July 2002 John L. Stevens

My heart was so heavy
With sadness and sorrow.
The day was so dark
I could not see tomorrow.
Hope seemed so dim
Through the tears that I cried.
I could not see You Lord
The day that she died.

I remembered Your promise
To be by my side.
For always You’re with me
In You I abide.
In the midst of the darkness
Your hand touched my soul.
You drew me so close
And made me whole.

There are times that I cry
Alone with just me.
When the silence comes crashing
Like a storm-troubled sea.
There are times that I laugh now
When I remember the years.
That we shared together
Through the good times and tears.

The peace oh Lord
The memories You bring.
Fills my life with hope
Make my heart strings sing.
Draw me close to Your side
And lead me gently on.
Give me hope for tomorrow
Till the dark turns to dawn.
———
Open my heart Lord
Let out the sorrow.
Pour in your spirit
And hope for tomorrow.
I need Your touch Lord
On my heart this hour.
Fill me with Your love
With Your healing power.

===============================

I hope these thoughts I have shared with you have been an encouragement to your heart. I hope you will have a renewed resolve to never give up but keep taking baby steps forward as you make your journey with Jesus through this life. Now from the words and wisdom of Lola, “I will never, never, never, ever give up Charley.”

To those who did not go to sleep, thanks for listening.

My love is like the healing rain in spring
That falls softly to nourish the earth
She refreshes my sad weary spirit
And brings my lonely soul peace and rebirth

My love is like the warm summer sunshine
That caresses the flowers into bloom
She is fire she is alive with passion
Her presence dispels dark from my room

My love is like the wild wind of autumn
A tempest that strips the leaves from the trees
Restless and haunting she walks in my dreams
Always searching I know not what she seeks

Ah but when the chill of winter abides
She will come home then to be by my side

A summer of special magic

Why write this because it’s a special time of year when you think of certain ones fondly and also
Maybe life is throwing junk in your path the kind that lingers and just for a few moments it takes to read
This you can have a breathing space and hopefully you can insert your own experience and get a little
Pleasure that will last a while during this wonderful time of the year I have to admit it will sound strange
I have never let that get in the way I spoke about this person before how she was the perfect one to fall
In love with blond with a pony tail a strand of cinnamon lighter than a feather just drifting on the
Summer breeze oh how sweet innocents personified truly easy on the eyes and a blend of southern
Charm with a Midwestern twist chubby checker style and too for lost love or the one who was your
Special someone and still is the window is right for romantic discussion but probably not this one I did
Have a captive audience we were alone and finally she would hear the deepest feelings that I felt and by
Her actions they were successful and again as I wrote before I can’t speak to her anymore because death
And time changed everything but if I realized I talked to her then and in a way I will always be talking to
Her soul once you do it right it is good for all time the soul is the great repository of all that is meaningful
And precious it might go into deep reassesses and time lays on it heavily but just a word softly spoken
Will clear all the silver and golden cobwebs away and your voice will be as clear as ever I spoke this
Before there is something extraordinary and tender and touching about a woman with wet hair and
When she refreshes her body and soul through bathing vulnerability and sweetness runs at its deepest
Level I didn’t have a clue I was as teenager but I knew how special Nan tan was the name is fitting it
Speaks of a Meteorite one in particular of iron that fell in china years ago yes throw in the mysterious
Orient it isn’t Out of order and it pays her more honors that she truly deserves so she was in the house
And I stood out Side just a common place out by the back door but this was my only chance to speak my
Feelings so not to sound like the complete fool I presented it as I was in a sense talking to God sorry
Father what I said isn’t the main thing let’s put it this way she never questioned again if she was pretty
And special soul to soul mind to mind I let her know what I felt all have had this happen and you can
Borrow From it of Course it didn’t happen this way but I wasn’t going to miss out on having my say and
Now it Returns In splendor more wondrous than the original especially under the circumstances and I
Need it so I guess I’m just forcing it again but where would I be without it?
With our voices we touch the inner being of another we put layers of softest telling riches sing softer
Melodies across the tenderest tendrils it blows across the pool where tears are drawn from
Depending on their depth and passionate fire will determine how hot the tears will flow down the
Most beautiful face flat diamonds that collect on a pillow or fall unnoticed on the floor but they are
Noticed by the love angel Cupid’s mother they show his work is most profitable and pleasing as the trees
Have foliage so the heart has blossoms’ pedals so fine to touch them you would be moved to spill many
Tears they are shaped in the design of the beloved no finer art exist each shade and high point is caught
In brilliance it resounds with the truest ring no distortion we are master artisans our fingers follow what
Our eyes behold we render the purist and most perfect expression of another ever seen in this realm
With felicity unerring the scope and depth we produce not just an outward understanding but one of
Completeness that goes beyond compare the inner sanctum is surveyed by piercing that probes
Completely love is not built on assumption but by that which is divined intense understanding if this
Process came with lighting the one being observed would be fused with light almost to the point of
Being blinded then the emotional surges I think people have complained of this like they felt drained
While the one who gained excess at this level is so overloaded they can hardly manage intelligent
Conversation but in a divine state of bliss what is time my thanks forever for knowing you

What happens as love finds new life
Within ones heart in a genuine way
When a beautiful treasure blossoms
One which takes inner breath away

What happens when life given words
Refreshes a heart and deeply instills
The blessing of a Loves sweet reality
Whose spiritual touch is always real

What happens as moments are shared
When spoken words bring one to pray
Leaving such a spiritual loveliness
Which in a heart will forever stay

What happens as sweet joy comes alive
Making one to feel they are never alone
When in their heart and spirit is found
Seeds of a precious love finding a home

There is a genuine selfless love existing
When shared it continues to blossom more
Especially when it's bliss is heaven-sent
We find each day it refuses to be ignored

For my heart listens to Your smiles voice
Each morning Lord as Your love awakens me
Embracing me with Your precious happiness
As I praise You for the gift I received.

You are my sun, the planets and the asteroids in between,
actually, make that the energy that embraces the sun,
the elements and trace elements that make up each planet...

(Oh, my stars!)

You are each perfect petal that unfurls ever so slowly in the morning light,
actually, make that the light that kisses each dew drop which
awakes each petal with that sweet kiss...

(Oh, blush, my buzzing bee!)

You are that raindrop that refreshes my parched soul that's stranded in a desert,
actually, make that the mirage that proves to be an oasis
as my eyes widen in wonderment with the reality of You.

(Oh, shucks, my sweet breath!)

You are my golden compass whenever I get lost in the wilderness,
actually, I wouldn't mind getting lost, if it means
that I get lost in your soulful, beautiful eyes Forever

(Oh, you cheeseball, you!!)

You are the chocolate ganache frosting on that chocolate cake,
actually, you are the powdered sugar on my honey-dipped doughnut
that brushes my lips, the perfect complement for hot, hot coffee

(Oh, honey bun!!)

You are the--

Sweetcakes??

You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara, I'm just

Ahem!!!!

You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara,
actually it would be bland and incomplete without you and---

Hey, babe!

huh?!

I'm on dense mode right now, what are you really trying to say?
Come on, spill it, I NEVER hear it from you...


Ummm, ummm...I...I...

I mean, I--


Out with it, come on!! You can do it---"I...."

Hoo! Ok, I...

I can do this---

I...

(Note to self: This is IT!!!!!)

I--

Yesss...?!!

I
am
    the empty, wanting glass and you are the refreshing drink that fills me up,
actually,--

~BOINKKKKKkkK~ !! I'm walking away now!!
Geez, if you can't say IT without all the Fluffy, duffy, Fluff,
see me walking away for now...I need the Skinny, the skeleton!
Sometimes one just needs to Hear it, you know?!
Oh, and I love you,in case you didn't know...but see me walk!

Hey, honey bunny, smoochie sweetie pie?

...still walking away~~~~

I...

huff, huff, huff~~

I am walking towards you...

Huff, puff, puff and hufff~! (note to self: Walk on, walk on...)

I said I'm walking towards you...

~bump~!

and

I...
   Love
         You.

The fog is sweet. It envelopes my being, and it calms my nerves. Its obscurity awakens my senses. Always on my toes, I am alert. This mist, it refreshes my soul. Once more, I am young in search of danger. The fog, it draws me in. I cannot fight it and I won’t. It beckons my name, and it knows who I am. The shroud opens. I enter it, the fog. It swallows me whole. I will never return. For in this abyss, I feel alive. I crave life and life craves me.

i am a fine eater i eat everything

i feel like eating chocolate and many other things

and i feel like giving up and i have a craving

a craving for toothpaste

but i don’t wanna eat it because it is for teeth

i feel like drinking orange juice as well as chocolate

i eat chocolate and i gain weight

i want to stop eating junk food

he;s eating junk food, he’s like us now man

i feel like a chocolate bar as well a a chocolate mousse

i feel like a packet of biscuits as well as a big bottle of coke

please stop theser cravings please stop these cravings

like LOLLIES, YUMMY OLE LOLLIES, makes you fat but still tastes great

lollies put on a lot of excess weight, too much sugar

i am 162 kg, from eating too much sugar

yeah, dudes, my sugar count is high

i like cheesecake or vanilla slices as well as butter popcorn

which, that tastes soooooo nice, like me, i guess

i feel like two flavoured milks which can put on a lot of kilos

and i feel like a nice packet of mint slice biscuits and a 2 litre bottle of lemonade

lovely lemonade, and a 2 litre bottle too, and a beautiful sponge cake

sugar causes diabetes, and diabetes is caused by too much sugar

and i buy a tub of ice magic and pour it all over the ice cream

yes, i do feel like a tub of ice cream

and i have a sweet tooth a very big sweet tooth

chocolate and vanilla slices and milkshakes make me tick

and the yummy ole lollies make me feel happy

but each ounce of sugar i do eat can add on the weight

like every bottle of coke i do drink refreshes my mouth and body

like red coke and vanilla coke and coke life and coke zero really adds the fucken flavour

i do a poem in the poetry slam and coke is my reward

i was walking today and i smelt the wonderful cake in my fat body

i don’t want to be fat, but the sugary is solo addictive

the toothpaste is so addictive, but i must stop myself

i know i have a sweet tooth but i need to look further down

because sugar causes belly problems and dental problems

and my mental illness medication is making me crave all these wonderful foods

like hamburgers and chips and mexican nachos and cream buns

puts on weight, i can’t resist i ****** can’t resist, it’s clogging up my arteries

but i can’t seem fro stop the cravings

money buys sugary foods and drinks, i feel poor

i want to be rich and resist  these foods, i would love to have mates

but i am poor and i can’t resist these foods

i hear old school chums calling out to me, eat it brian eat it brian eat it brian

sometimes i can’t resist not to

but i want to, i will eat all these foods in one day

who can give you chocolate for many times you knew

who can rip the strawberry out of strawberries and cream lollies yeah

yeah i can eat a whole packet of marshmallows and strawberries and cream

as well as milk bottles and freddo frogs as well as a packet of 10 cherry ropes

i can eat chicken twists and cheese twists

as well as a packet of cheese and bacon *****, again too much sugar or saturated fats

bad for me very very bad for me, but i still eat it

i got addicted to coke when i was buying my second coke, and the lady said

you must be very very thirsty, mind you i was very thirsty but the sugar put coke ahead of water

and i went to the club and had a few sugary cokes and i bought a few packets of saturated fat crisps

as well as another sugary chocolate bar, i was thinking sugar is better than alcohol

but they both are as bad as each other

it is a lot of food to consume

who loves orange soda, brian loves orange soda is it true, yes i do i do i do oh yeah

you see food is the wicked witch and your body are the children she has

today i bought a nice sumo salad, a takeaway option

and i had two oranges as well as two dips, still bad, but all this are my preferences for a dessert i don’t need

Nothing give me more pleasure
When one of you 'likes' an old poem mine,
Buried under the uncountable new arrivals.

I go back and reread it myself.

Nothing gives me more pleasure,
Becoming reacquainted,
Through you, with myself, and
Liking it.

More amazing is that someone bothers,
Wondering, crazy-making me,
What have I missed.

So when I stumble on you,
Don't be surprised if I am
Free falling through each and every one
You ever penned.

That is why I love to, love the
random walking thru this site.

Refreshes me, through you,
Refreshes me, through me.
7:20am

Love’s happiness and laughter lives within me
It refreshes my body with precision and finesse
Bringing to my mind such exhilarating  beauties
Filling my heart daily with an exquisite bliss

This delight I find brings from within me
What young loves most times often find to be
For my love springs forth sweet joyous notes
Which form such enchanting pulsating melodies

So pleased am I with this new life I daily live
Sharing it with one in whom my heart believes
And I will place within her my wholesome trust
Knowing my heart she will never seek to deceive

I existed in my life as one before meeting her
Yet the whole of me will always now live as two
For she is the better half which God promised
Who in my life would help my dreams come true

For ever since the days when I was a young child
When on my knees to the Lord I would always pray
I knew He would surely answer my many prayers
Bringing forth special joys to bless all of my days

So the tender joy of loves happiness lives in me
Refreshing my heart with such precision and finesse
While adding to my life many  heavenly moments
Which will fill my heart daily with a perfect bliss.

I used to eat ice cream on a pretty strict and regular schedule.
The anticipation for those designated nights consumed my naive mind.

Now,
on the nights that used to mean sweet, supple mounds of delicious bliss,
however brief,
I drink Missouri water from a thick, old, dusty glass.
As I tip the last drops into my mouth,
I see a mysterious stain (or is it a clump?) on the bottom.

Fortunately, I think to myself,
whatever that was didn't get into me.

Water runs through.
It cleans out.
It leaves nothing behind but undesireable water spots
in sinks and on windshields
mascara lines tracking down cheeks to squeeze between pushed up *****
and dead worms on the sidewalk,
evicted by the flood of this

life-giving,
breath-taking
rain,
waves,
that drink when your lips are cracking and you feel as if your mouth is filled with cotton,
when you look at a ***** puddle and think,
my GOD am I thirsty.

Ice cream melts in the mouth.
It refreshes in the heat of summer,
it teases the tongue with sugar and milk and so many seductive flavors.
It's best on special occasions,
even though it's desired all the time.
Sometimes it can be bought with the change found on a scavenger hunt in a car,
and other times,

it can't.
But even as the frozen delight slides off your tongue and into your stomach,
your tastebuds tremble at the lack of sweet.
They spite you with a bitterness and a dry, sticky feeling,
and your teeth feel coated with a grime you can't seem to lick off.
You keep wiping at your lips,
for you can't shake off the notion that you got some of the experience on your face.
I'm not even going to mention the calorie content of what you just downed.

And sometimes,
if you're like me,
too much can make you choke.
Your throat and lungs seem to be tucked within a terrifyingly tight Chinese finger,
and each spoonful is a desperate attempt to escape
only to fall farther into a trap I like to call

love.

Hogbetsotso is once again with us,
But I have not yet found my arm,
She is on her way once again,
Oh yes, I must know the truth
Behind her lovely convex hips,

When was she hatched?
For the merchants have not yet
Arrived with their good news,
Can anyone behold the Volta

Lake trembling at her sweet voice?
Can anyone behold her divine blackness
Brightening the hearts of the
Men upon the horizon of Dzodze?

The chief priest is said to have hidden
This truth from the ancestors,
For her hymns are nothing
But eternal love and beauty,

Now see how green and glorious
Her savoury dusky bark looks,
Are the naked Gods permitted to
Create a beauty like unto her image?

My imagination cannot even define
The secret behind her beauty,
Neither can a basket full of words

Betray my secret thoughts of her,
For the beads around her waist
Has been a snare to great kings,

She is an Ewe indeed,
Daehafi, the exceptional beauty
That brightens the watching sun,

The mighty wind that refreshes
My fearless daily hopes,
In fact, her precious eyes flashes
Glaring fire with her breath of flame,

My dear Daehafi,
Go and persuade the sea wave
Not to break into pieces,
And kiss me once again,

A last long kiss,
Until I draw your soul within
My plum lips and
Drink down all your love,

In fact, she is the only prim
And proper Black beauty that
Weighs her love before
Given out her heart.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com

The sun beams down lighting up my face and warming my skin
Coaxing my eyes shut to leave the physical world
Letting the natural world fill my veins
The wild wind refreshes my lungs
Replenishing my whole inner being
My mind goes to a wonderful place to take a break from the ever crazy reality
My body begins to weigh down sinking into earths comforting ground
Natures lullaby soothes me to drift off into unconsciousness

The land of dreams and wonderful things, hopefully
With nature surrounding me and cloaking me in divine bliss
Only allowing the subconscious to bring to life beautiful scenes
Flowered trees, fields of green, skies painted picture perfect blue, the air smells and tastes of honeydew, birds sing along to natures tune, the rivers move to the beat of Mother Nature’s heart

A natural awakening brings back my soul from its deep sleep
Slowly uprooting my body from Mother Natures’ loving grasp
She infused me with her energy to help me through the unnatural world we live in
I can't wait for the sun to coax me again to close my eyes and appreciate her beautiful essence once more

Ice chilled glass of lemonade,
Refreshes from inside, the soul.

I love fresh air.
It clears my thoughts,
Chills my lungs and
Refreshes my ideas.

The freshest air I've ever felt,
Was the draft that entered when you walked out.

Water is a transparent fluid from which the world streams, lakes, oceans, and rain and is the major constituent of the fluids of living things
Water gives our lungs the moisture we need to breathe.
Water, therefore, is breath to life.
You cannot have too much of it.
Drinking too much water too quickly can lead to water intoxication water intoxication occurs when water dilutes the sodium level in the bloodstream and causes and an imbalance of water in the brain.
Although, you need it to survive.
People can survive no longer than 8 to 10 days without water
When our cells are starved for water, they become parched, dry and more vulnerable to attack by viruses.
Water is colorless, odorless, tasteless, and kills uncounted thousands of people every year.
Water constitutes, regulates, flows through, cleanses and helps nourish every single part of your body. But the wrong kind of water -- with inorganic minerals, chemicals and other contaminants -- can pollute, clog up and turn to stone in every part of your body.
3.4 million people die each year from water related disease
That is equivalent to almost the entire city of Los Angeles.
I think water is all around us in metaphoric ways
For instance, water damage to a cell phone, computer, a book, or an entire city.
Water creeps into places where it is not supposed to be, where it is not meant to be and destroys things.
Suddenly, your screen goes white, words are smudged, people's belongings and treasures are ruined.
Water breaks things.
Water is a lot like pain.
It creeps into our life like a serpent in tall grass and fractures things that were once in perfect condition.
But the miraculous thing about it, although it is a demon, we need it to live.
Without pain we would not know pure joy.
How can you appreciate stepping to the sunlight if you have never experienced the shade.
Water is a lot like people.
70% is a person is water.
31% of our bones are made up of water.
Only 1% of the world's water is drinkable.
Some contain toxins that can be fatal to the human body.
Not every person may be able to quench your thirst.
When they leave they many leave you dehydrated and dizzy.
Not every person is drinkable.
Some people carry demons that they will introduce you to and you cannot rip them off.
These demons are not in relativity to the band-aids in your childhood.
People can cause damage like no other.
Some say that loneliness is killer.
Isn’t funny to think that the one thing you need most can leave you with more scars than you had in the first place.
Water is a lot like love.
Something we crave when the exhaustion from all of our day's work gets too heavy.
Without love we feel empty
When the body gets dehydrated it has already lost over 1% of its water
When we thirst for attention it's as if we lose an inch of security
Love is unlocking the door and flooding
Love causes destruction
But love is at the absolute brink of all things desired
Love is different temperatures
Love can boil, love can freeze, love can be just right
Love can be the one thing at the end of the day that refreshes the mind
Water is used frequently by firefighters to extinguish fires helicopters sometimes drop large amounts of water on wildfires or bushfires to stop the fire from spreading and limit the damage that it can cause
Love is the antidote to pain and the virus itself
Love is limiting damage
Love can calm the wildest fire set in someone's soul using only words
Water is such a generic liquid
Water is the only thing that hold each of us together
So when you reach the end of your journey
Remember water and all of its different forms
Remember the invigorating taste
Remember the abuse
Remember the revival
Remember it all
Because it is all there
**We simply do not look close enough

A sunny day lifts hearts from grief and gloom;
I like the rays of warmth and skies of blue.
But in our words of praise, let’s leave some room
for light cast by the sky of grayish hue.
The even light suffuses everything--
no glare to blind us and no shadows cast.
The clarity that cloudy skies can bring
illuminates a future landscape vast.
A chillier breeze refreshes our attention,
and neutral gray reveals the depth and lines.
The way is clear and acts have more intention;
perception heightened, visible are signs.
Sunny days, for picnics and for beaches--
I’ll take the grey for what the soft light teaches.

you see i went up to saturn on the 23rd november 2015 and i got ******

as i sang these songs


summer weather, the barbecues are lit together

and each of santas elves, man, having a party with plenty of alcohol

and it is the summer weather, the esky is the place to be yeah

and we swim in the bay, avoiding the sharks

ya see we party all night, without much of a fight

then my mate pat comes in and bes a big strong man

and i sing your big and strong and you like to carry on

ya see it’s the summer weather, and the coca cola is the best drink oh yeah’’it refreshes you up

just drinking from a cup

ya see it’s the summer weather cause we have our drinks to keep us cool

you see i am ignoring the big man, by sitting here relaxing in this house with flowered carpet

i am dreaming, and it’s almost christmas, i can almost see your christmas gifts

what the hell can it be, ya see it’s the summer weather

cause we have our beers to keep us cool

you see i am in my bed singing old cold chisel tracks as well as twisted sister

we’re not going to take it, no we ain’t going to take it

we’re not going to take it anymore

and i sang it’s a long way to the shop if ya want a sausage roll

but i still went to the shop to buy s sausage roll

and pat the big man said, come on kids let’s tease him

but as a natural fact, when i was young, i thought pat liked the idea of being a daddy figure

because he wanted to tease me with the kids

and while he did that, i was in my bed ignoring the little teaser

because i am not a shy person, i am a nice person, nicer than patrick anyway

cause he think it’s cool to make people utter and he thinks it;s cool to keep smiling at me like a daddy would do

you see before dad died and when i was still working, i visioned dad smiling at me while he was swimming and i was working

you see patrick wants to tease me with the cool kids, i don’t want him to, but he wants to

and as i am writing this, the forces of evil are making be a shy boy writing a story

but i am not a shy boy, i am a writer and artist, and i entertain some people on youtube

i hear people say, shut up up woosey, but i hate being called a woosey

because i am smarter than patrick, in every stretch of the imagination

and i can tell you another thing, i am a big rich man, and i am more powerful than poor little patrick

i am mental, and mental beats being a hooligan anyway

you see i vision people telling me that they don’t want me to express myself

i want patrick to look worried, so i can be a cool person, like mike from the young ones

brian the cool person

and all this was going on, when i was dreaming of being on a deserted island

with a beautiful woman, a mermaid so to speak, and rather than listen to patrick rivvel on like a old man

i went over to the mermaid to have *** with the mermaid

and i pumped my body on the beautiful mermaid while patrick was attempting to tease me with the cool kids

i told him, i am a family person, sure mate, i am completely ignoring you to have *** with a mermaid

patrick said, don’t ignore me, be like me, and i said, neh, i don’t care how i look to to you and lyle

if i want a beard, i will keep my beard, and if you hate it, you can kiss my behind

because i am a family person, sure mate, i am ignoring the stupid hooligan

i was pumping my ***** into her ******, and patrick was so jealous of me

and then i got up on stage in saturn and sang

silent **** holy ****

all is quiet till the old man farts

sleep very soundly before you let it out

like water coming out of a water spout

**** to bring nirvanaly peace man

peace from nirvana yeah

i woke up and patrick said, why don’t you have a shave, i said neh, i love my beard, it makes me look like a real man, dude

and i said, i am way cooler than you, dude, my beard suits me, to my point of view

Do sleepless nights yield heavy thoughts?
Or do the synapses firing prohibit silent slumber?
Neural highways at traffic jam capacity
Rush hour never ends when I retire

Electrical signals consistently skip and zip
Awake or asleep, thinking or dreaming
Mystifying visions of past, present and future
Entertain the brain while the body refreshes

A blissful recollection of pure jubilation
Transitions the mind into sweet meditation

My alarm becomes a synaptic disturbance
The ears at the receiving end of the siren
Alert, alive, living
But exhausted from the Prednisone Curse