A Decade and twice a year and a half twiced

  A Decade and twice a year and a half twiced
No doubt, I will conquer my very own price
IF fate is true, Does he play dice?
Nopes, I guess we must play nice

I want to reach out all the stars
Buy cool things like brand new cars
Have some powers and magical Wands
Specto patronom with magical sands

speak in front of thousand man
climb through ladders unto the sun
like FLash the way i like to run
Home works I had will all be done

Frightening teachers will be nice
appreciate student's sacrifice
home work be lessen on 90 percent
party's no parent's consent

This day ends with my Anticipation
of tomorrows negotiation
To pick a bit of inspiration
to end my wide imagination..

Let Me Grow Lovely

Let me grow lovely, growing old--
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?

Long Ago

  Long ago I seen this poem that had a story of a man that was too far gone it went some like he was so far out in the water that he was not waiving but drowning, first I didn’t understand what it meant but years later I wound come to understand just what it means.

The day I realize what it meant it was me that was not waiving but drowning in my sorrows of a hand that was dealt to me for reason that til today is unknown but they say that God only gives you what you can handle we must have two different points of view.

One night in the heat of rage I went out and I hung myself my husband pulled me down and brought me back to life “what a bold statement.”

I didn’t realize all that had happened to me and still today do not remember everything but what I do know is that not realizing just how far out I was not waiving but drowning in the yesterdays of my life not seeing the hopes that was right here today.

Now I view things just a little bit different yes I still wallow in my sorrow but I try to get it out sooner then later because hanging from that rope was no joke.

Violin

She cried for all the broken hearts,
Painted everlasting winters –
Floral patterns etched in ice;
A frozen tear to
Soften up the bastard bones.

Bow made love to needy string
In cooing fling – wanton whispers
Fondled under pianissimos,
Caressing callous hearts.

Melodrama swayed in satin sound
– Yet the player wasn’t there,
Only creamy song, soothing, yearning,
Teasing bitter minds.

I sensed her persevering loneliness
For beauty of an evening: Romance of a tune; laughing,
Sobbing at the fire.

Then a climax –
Writhing passion cutting deep –
Wounding macho flesh,

And all in a work of musical art:
Ephemeral stories, yarned of music
Honed impossibly through her tones.

The Encounter

  I seldom spent my time taking fragments from my past,
But, solely her face appears from a string of cast;
I met her in the most unusual trend,
This is somewhat, how it happened.There was an hour before dark,
I was prepared for my mother’s cocoa phonic bitter bark;
I wondered if that woman would shower a hint of mercy,
In a June evening, in a deserted alley;
I caught over ridden taxi,
In a great haste, I sat unnoticed who was behind me,
A demigoddess, gossiping and giggling gracefully;
Through the rear mirror,
I piously gazed at her;
She had the prettiest teary eyes,
Of what I would consider, ideal size.
She had a pair of the rosiest cheek,
Her hair was charcoal black and sleek,
Like a warriors blade under the moon;
Her voice the singing nightingales in June,
Her giggle, Beethoven’s melody in its finest tune.
I speculated if she noticed me,
I softened, why would she;
Did her teary eyes stare at me,
Nay! Anyone but me;
I halted the taxi,
For this mute had reached his destiny;
I saddened for I no longer could prolong my glance,
I took my last chance,
I took the meekest glance.

I walked home unknowingly, forgetting my mother,
The bitter shrewd barks of her;
My thoughts circled around when I would see her,
My angelic accomplice rider,
Would ‘FATE’ the mysterious rejoin me with her;
I was crest fallen until I saw her,
My saintly neighbor

Trying To Reflect Your Beauty

Stay for awhile: the angels are making
Peace over the canal,
And maybe it is Christmas- there is
A new lawnmower in the neighbor’s
Yard,
But their little girls have gone forever,
And your children are at home
These new words I say of you to noon
You will never know-
I will say them to the emptied yards
After all of the heavens have come out again,
Trying to reflect your beauty-
After you have forgotten all of this Romance 
I wake up I forgot
who I am, I look at...I can't see anything
or connection ever
plants are colorless
people walk in silence my feet swift to a fly, I sit alone by pond I throw stone but it
didn't ripple a bit I am thirsty, my throat is dry I feel pillow on my head.

Rainbow’s Birth

The morning light
in your eye
unfurls a sail
in the solar wind
of sun rays.

Your fingers move
like flower petals
in the breeze
of June.

In the palm
of your hand
the rainbow
is born.