YOU THRILLED US WITH YOUR STUNNING VOICE! YOU ARE, AND ALWAYS WILL BE, MY FAVORITE MALE ARTIST OF CHOICE! I TALK TO YOU IN DREAMS, AND YOU EXPLAIN THE WAYS AND MEANS! BECAUSE OF YOU, I'M NOT CRYING ANYMORE! I LIVE EACH DAY, KNOWING GREAT THINGS ARE IN STORE! AND ONE DAY, WHEN ALL OF MY DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE; I SHALL RETURN TO THAT WONDERFUL; BLUE BAYOU!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
A CONTRIBUTION TO THE LEGACY OF A GREAT ARTIST!
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Author: Unknown
when you were born
you were a clean slate
you knew nothing at all
blissful in your ignorant state
as you aged
as you grew tall
you became a teenager
and thought you knew it all
as you rushed and as you ran
out into the world you were head
it was there that you learned
you knew nothing instead
so you lived life and experienced it all
you said goodbye and closed your eyes
it was at the end you knew so much
yet no one knew you were so wise
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2014
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Author: Unknown
Where did the years go?
to the things we believed in
to love, and life and family
to comfort in our skin
time did not vanish
it did not run and hide
it is not held captive
nor like the wind outside
time runs through us
entwining with each soul
etched into our memmories
making our lives whole
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2014
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It was then and only then that panic seized me...alone, I could have endured it-- but the madness of my heart would doom me, that much i knew. With one fal swoop (surely the only one fate would grant me)
Now I live my life like a warrior. On the edge of eternity, back with my child, my irises, my dog, my poems, I know I am not alone.
I am moving toward the light.
Like a moth fluttering my wings, if only to die in a blaze. Writing, painting, praying, making love, dying in the interstices between the light.
As long as flesh exists, someone will rise from the warmth of the huddle and struggle to her knees to scribble pictures-words- on the side of the cave to please- or irk- the gods.......
SAS
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Posted: Sep 2014
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When people are sleeping I'm awake,
Images of him my mind does create.
My thoughts are without any reason or rhyme,
There's nothing to seperate reality and time.
I've heard voices talking but just in my mind,
Answers to riddles for which I can't find.
Does it really matter or should I really care.
Am I insane or are the voices really there.
SAS
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
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stars on a mantles leaf
rose and gold the hearts own thief
to every breath once come is gone
what it was that makes a souls belief
old Indian poets speaking words like driven sand
with face of god above you and stars so close to hand
how can harshness lead to the love of beauty
yet in the oasis of her smile we stand
arms reaching up to a Goddess with Autumn's hair
but the moon it will not rise for prayer
and sorrow touches my hands
as they move across the papers tear
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
not feeling so well/just sick not emotional(thank the great spirits for one will pass while the other tends to linger)
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dearest william,
thorns i have pushed aside
when you smiled upon me
(finally)
now tangle my limbs
in bloody spectacle
and angels watch but
know i am fallen
i have asked the meanings
deep in the winter nights
hoping metaphors and blood and snow
could defeat death
and centuries
and thought you answered with
samara and forsythia
now the myrtle rages here
(in my dragon year)
but eros is crying
in the fragile blooms
what now?
and maud, does she still shine
in the seafoam like a dark venus?
and although you married and loved another
was your heart forever dry of nectar,
that sweet flood returning never?
the thorns entangle--
i crave the pierced flesh
but i know if i don't find
the rose soon
the fay will abandon me
so i fumble for luminescence
in the dark
in the curse from birth
of belief
and in the sometimes belief
in the curse
(in this world that saves
paper hearts
and cuts out
real
ones)
~SAS
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
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Hot, muggy, sticky night,
Ice chips scraping glass, limeade
Added lemon, splash!
Lemon lime scent.
Lips pucker,
Wraparound porch, rocking chair.
Lilting voice "Amazing Grace"
frogs hopping, rebit rebit
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
Nastalgia
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The heap of blankets on our bed
The crisp shirts hanging on the door
Your tools on the kitchen table
The smell of your toothpaste
Memories
Good memories
Touches of you that stay in our home
And keep me close
Whenever you are gone
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
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On the mantle place
With pride of place
You polish and clean
You wind up
Your daily routine
You make sure
You clean it so well
Shines and polishes well
Its face so clean and body
Shines your image seen
Like a mirror
Your face can be seen
Its you rs to polish
Handed down like treasure
From generation to generation
From mother to daughter father to son
You look after it with care
You watch over
You view it daily
You look after it
For you know it yours forever and ever
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
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