Many years of health Blessing flowed abundantly Laughter, love and peace Without permission Beneath the surface growing Tumors of evil Tears of fear crying Uncertain times lie ahead Love will get us through Sickness darkness light A vicious circle of health Winter days so bleak Spring days get longer Sunshine through the clouds breaks free Haze covers us again Summer brings a knife Malevolent lumps removed Only scars rema...

A cup of chai, would you like? It has such a special taste Many flavors combined Cinnamon, spices and ginger Passion, desire and warmth Relax, sit back and enjoy Sugar, honey or sweet cream? Straight you said, quite a surprise For this brew is rather strong Some feel the sting upon the lips As the infusion touches, flowing Smoothly from the cup Others feel the fire once It splashes within the mouth Sinking deep into the s...

Cries for help ring out Your love disappears for good Sun behind the clouds

Farewell your eyes said in silence As our time has come, smile It was divine, to feel so much In such little time You roam sweet pastures While gazelles jump far Time seems to pass too quick Our “love” was OURS We had it all yet not enough To save our souls from the dark Behave mi Poeta, my poet Find what you seek And hope it does Not bring you Memories of me As anything more Than a true Friend, Always

The thoughts in my head Snowflakes falling from the sky Swirling randomly

I sometimes lay awakeWonderingIf you understandThe feeling that I feel Every now and then I lay awakeDreaming About what can never beAn unrequited love I can't help but ponderThe effect you have on meYou permeate my very beingTo the fiber of my soul The sight of your hairGlistening in the sunYour skin and your shapeBeauty is defined by you I sometimes lay in bedSleeping, dreamingHearing your voiceLike a whisper in my ears...

What does a poet need to compose a thought? Where is the inspiration That starts as a tiny seed?How do the words forminto pictures of the heart?Do the eyes of the scribetranslate? Is the laughter of a child,the smile of a baby,or the hug of a loved oneEnough to make it blossom? Maybe it’s the smell of flowersOr softly falling rain.Perhaps the crashing of wavesUp on the shore? Perhaps the tinkle of ivories,the strum of nyl...

Soft sunshine through trees Footsteps crunch fresh fallen leaves Two hearts become one

Alone! I cry I'm so alone Surrounded by family Surrounded by friends Yet so alone Thoughts in my head A swirling mess Darkness comes Daylight goes Alone I cry I pray to God He seems not near Maybe it's me I'm not sincere I feel alone Suddenly it happens The music plays Praise Worship The light gets brighter Thoughts still race I chase them away A lightened load An un-burdened heart I feel less alone I have figured it out...

The newly born emerges in innocence. A new life’s journey begins soon. But as I gaze upon him I see not an angel. I see a prune. The countenance is a shriveled, purple, wrinkly mass. The pate is itself crowned with all manner of irregular ridges and bumps. And I see neither heavenly nor angelic forms when the child spews forth his fecal lumps. Others stare and proclaim that he has his Mother’s eyes as they dote and fawn i...

You lay in my arms Your breathing so shallow Tears abound The end is near We had each other For a short time But we always knew The end was near A wee babe So weak, so frail The end drew near So much effort To help you live The end came near Tears fall Prayers rise The end so near Answered prayer Angels rejoice The end...is here

Walking beside you Rushing water and bright sun Dreams in my head run

There are worse things I could do than write a bad poem or two. I could write of love that I have known, love that I have lost. I could compare her (whoever she is) to some flower, some painting, or (heaven forbid) some summer’s day. I could tell of heartbreak and heartache and use some clever metaphor about the sea to express the turmoil my life is in. I could hide a cryptic message in a few ambiguous verses. I could pre...

I care not if the sky burns red and human flesh is seared. I care not if all souls just rot as many long have feared. I wait for when the birds don’t fly and locusts take the grain. I hope the fertile soil turns red from poisoned acid rain. I dream to see the lakes all boil and swollen throats be dry. I rejoice when the hopes and dreams of good men fade and die. I laugh when fearful citizens are slaughtered just like shee...

They are out there in the cold, but you refuse to see them. The Forgotten ones. Worn down to threads, seeing no longer just their heads. Seeing flesh thru the cloth, you wonder is that all they have left? The Forgotten ones. Zippers and buttons dropping off, that clutter the ground as you walk. The feel of flesh shifting underneath, of something else you try to think. The Forgotten ones. But as their stink fills the air,...