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Jun 29, 2008

I don't know what to call this poem.....What would you name it?


A feather swirls point down,
The water below expects it,
But moves on any way.

She makes a right turn,
Just to bubble and swirl around a few stones and a small tree.
She quickly puts a mile behind her.
She calms and pulls herself together.

She comments to herself that it is a wonder that she has this much of herself to pull together,
Considering the lack of fain this month.
Rushing along she passes below old Johnson Bridge.
"The 1849's built that bridge,
But it was more like a 1849'er,
Mr. Johnson, the banker.
The beams had to be replaced last year.
I should know,
I'm the one that goes around them,
And who crashes into them.

"Good bye Bubbles."
"Good bye Johnson."
"Besides Bubbles, the others that pass by on a regular bases is Mr. Johnson and his grand kids,
They come by every Sunday afternoon to walk and pick flowers.
The flowers usually come from the meadow on the eastern side of me,
The town is to the west.(FYI)

"Meadow! I'm more than a meadow!
I'm Rose Park.
Come the 4th of July and New Year's,
I'm the most popular place in town."
"A Meadow indeed!"

You know what I have just been through.


I sat with my legs being held to my chest,
As close as I could get them as I laid in bed.
Tears were coming down my face.
I hate crying.
Why was I crying?

I didn't want to cry,
He was the one who would suffer
I know that I'm a good person.
I know I am.

I hate myself
No one wants me,
And I want someone.
I do.

Jun 28, 2008

A very sad thing that happens too often.


Part One

I felt my present
Become my past.

I saw every thing that once was tangible.
My friends, the places I had been and the things I did,
Become dated, memories.
My memories began to fade

I felt the cup in my hand at that time.
I felt the grains,
I knew the color of it was blue.
I felt the color blue

I drank the water from the tap,
It tasted much better than it did earlier

Part Two

With history heavy in my lap.
I stretched a hand forward and opened it

I saw her blue eyes which were crinkled at the edges,
Looking back at me.
Her hair was stuck in a persuasion to go east

My hand moved upwards again to move the hands of time.
I turned the page over to see us together,
And smiling like a couple of twelve year olds at the age of twenty something.
Our poses were also reminiscent of juvenile beings

I closed it then,
Not wanting to feel anymore,
Because I was not ready to believe

I got up and went into the kitchen,
With the intent to clean.
I already had two plates in my hands,
That I brought from the table.
I place them in the sink,
And reached for the two glasses that still stood on the counter

I saw her lipstick on the edge of the glass,
Where it half enclosed a tiny flower.
I remember ten minutes ago.
"I walked through the door just in time to hear the phone ring.
I thought she called to tell me that she forgot something at my place.
It was her brother "Hi Jimmy!".
He then told me in sobbing detail.

I put the glass under the faucet,
And with some soap I erased her.
Water slid out of my face,
As I said "Good-bye."

Can you tell were I got the title from?

This Kiss, This Kiss

My hand slowly traveled up the front of his shirt,
My fingers played with his collar.
The tips of my fingers grazed his chest and the lower part of his neck

My head was bent as he looked at me.
I tried once again to tell myself that it was true.
He was here,
I saw my gold ring shining in the afternoon’s light.
We belonged to each other.
He wanted me.

My eyes traveled up to his eyes,
As my hand closed in on the back of his neck.
I felt his hands as he pulled me closer.
Our breaths kissed before we did

Soon the wall, floor and air,
Was filled with capping and cheers.
As much as I wanted to cling to him,
I had to let him go.
We then turned to world,
And pronounced man and wife.

Songs and me..


I looked up and saw him looking down on me.
Then he smiled, and I fell apart inside.

I reached out my fingers to touch his face,
I collided with cold glass.
I stepped back and closed my eyes.

His fingers grazed the keys,
The drummer tapped his skins softly,
And I heard the whisper of a violin.

As I opened my mouth his voice tumbled fort.
My head swayed from side to side.
I sang with him a duet,
With a silent voice.

My body began to move.
My hands were raised to the level of my eyes,
And his emotions where shown on my face.

I became elegant,

Being separated is tough.


"Oh, stop it." I told my self in disgust.I folded my hands around me,and held my coat to me, even thought I did not feel the cold.

I do miss him, but there was nothing I could do about it.I looked over the small channel and looked at the island's lights.Wishing that they were the New York sky line.

I wrote this for a friend who never became more.


With legs crossed,
And mind absorbed in the sad tale of a song I reflected on my life.

As the heat radiated from my body,
I felt no cooler, no warmer.

I sat naked under the blanket, with one leg revealed.
My hands crossed themselves as they rested on it.

I felt so tired.
I needed someone.

I felt his hand as it rubbed itself up and down my back.
I looked to my side to see his face that was naked of its glasses.

I can hardly believe that I am here with you.
I am in bed with you, and you’ve touched my naked body as I have touched yours.

I am sorry that I did not have sex with you,
I am in love with you. You know this don’t you?

But I will wait for our wedding day.
That night I will give you all that is me. Whole and complete.

I reached out my hand and laid it on the side of his face.
You are real.

Dream sweetly my love, dream of me.
Like I have dreamed of you.

I Miss The Cold

Send me some snow,
And I'll send you a flower.

A flower that has breathed the same air as I.
A flower that will give you it's last breath of the Caribbean.

Smell it's fragrance,
And you will smell the sea.
You will taste the salt on you tongue,
As you smell it engulfing you.

You will taste the sugar cane as it grows around you.
You will fell this liquid sweetness as it slides down your throat.

Feel the tropical sun as its air surrounds you.
Feel the warmth as it shines down on your out stretched limbs,
And defrosts your bones and your soul.

Send me some snow,
And I'll send you on a spiritual cruise.

I wrote this poem a long time ago. You can thank Lain for me for it.


I stood on my front porch and watched as its red tail stuck up from behind the trees and it's growling shook the ground on which I stood. I knew that it was him. He was leaving. He did not tell me good-bye. I watched as the tail traveled down its path and its roar got louder. It felt as if it was screaming for the sky and earth to accept it. But it was not the one who was asking. He was declaring that he was taking to the sky, and that you were being warned.

I stood there and hoped that he could have seen me. That I would cry. That I would be entrusted with the screeching decibels for the tearing of my heart. That he would look down from the heavens and see me standing here as the rain began to fall, saving me the embarrassment, of being seen crying.

But his winged creature carried him away from me. And when it finally lifted him up into the sky, I could not be seen. I did not cry, my heart gave a little murmur. It knew that something happened. And that sweet rain, that cold rain, did not come. It did not help in my act of moaning.

Was it waiting for it to happen a second time? Was it waiting for him to return? For me to raise my hopes that he might realize that I was worth having? That he would come looking for me? For me to realize that he was here for three months and that he did not once came to say hello? Was it waiting for the day that it sinks in and I'm wondering one cold night by the bay?

I will stood there looking out at the sea and once again I see his plane as it carried him off. My skirt was being picked up by the wind, and my legs started to feel the biting sting of sand. The night air got colder and the smells around me become one. The scent of rain. It was coming. With my head held high and my feet not hurrying to carry me away, I felt it first on my back. Then it fell on my head, and it worked its way down to my heels.

As the heat was slowly being forced from my body, I forced tears from my soul. I had to cry. I had to heal. If I held on to what he did to me I never will. It would just be another sob story to tell someone. I will heal this, and no one would know that he was here. In my heart. That he tore it and left me asking "Why?". My chest shook and my cries got louder. I knew that no one was around as I fell to my knees and cried. I was not just crying because of him anymore. I was crying for all the times that I didn't. For everyone that I had ever lost or missed, and kept it inside. For every disappointment that I just made light of.

From one girl to another she was telling me that it was all right to cry. I listened. Mother and child cried that night. When it was over I walked home. We were both cleansed. Me of aching wounds and her of the smudges man had placed on her.