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Showing posts from July, 2009

Heal Me

I submitted this poem to Poetry.com and it qualified for the semi-finals in May 2002. It was published in the poetry collection book 'Letters from the soul' slated to have been released in Fall 2002. Sing with me mother nature as I am one with thee in my gloom, and glee sigh with me, at the dusk and darkness in my heart hark, my cry when on my knees, heal me! and rise with me, at the dawn, of the new me stronger no longer bound but free for always

The Intruder on the Beach

i have traversed this beach for what seems eons, yet time upon time, what i seek to achieve always escapes me. i seek peace for my tortured soul, in the sound of the crashing waves, in the smell of the salt air, in the feel of the chill wind that whips against my weathered face. i walk now in an area close to, but not near, the water’s edge. my eyes scan the distant horizon, searching an elusive peace of mind in the sun’s reflection upon the blue-green surface of the ocean, walking on sand that bares much witness to my habitual walks, and those of others, as evidenced in the footprints that crater nigh the entire surface of the sand. a testimony of the pain of the world, perhaps? for a while longer, my steady gait gains me silent ground, the crashing waves and the seagulls and such that fly by my only companions. then, i hear them, moments before i see them, a young couple deep in heated debate, the battle waged a fierce one, words their tools and pain their weapons. i slow my already ...

Darkess and the Elder Soul - Battle Cries

paenae, speak o mistress of the shadows, our master has struck upon a comely endeavor his constitution, I fear, will not withstand the challenge and what say you vaelera? the master's soul pines for amelioration, o dark one a fair one has caught its contemplation maestra, influence on my sovereign wanes , speak his mind alas, o spirit of our host only a vestige of my reach is allowed therein he hides his designs in cahoots with the old soul aelira, my pun - is his laughter ours or of that alien? downcast, I abase myself before your eternal dusk my tickles he no longer feels adora, a fairy, nests upon his heartbeat and her wings, fanned me away from my domain - ticklista my patience wears thin, and where is aerotika? aerotika is mine, now together we shall deliver the master from your mischief and with adora, we shall give the master delectation which you have endeavored to keep for yourself how dare you! you may be the elder soul but I am his spirit you shall not succeed adora prev...

Life at Dawn

This poem was written for my mother, to be read at a graduation for school counselors. It was meant to reiterate the importance of the seminars they had attended, and their purpose towards those who are young and may be lost. today is born a part, of a whole to help fill in the hole, in our humanity a hope to the dusk and darkness of them among us a seed to be planted, among them a seed of hope, to bring to life the reason for being a hand held out, to those in despair a whisper, one of hope so that they may rise with the dawn, shed their despair, and start living again having found that delicate thread they had lost, in the cruel labyrinth, that is life and therefore, we may smile as we know we are: the part the hope the seed and the hand at the dawn of life