In Search

As twilight set in

Amidst the constant din

He searched the street

Eagerly desiring to meet

The love of his heart

In the crowded mart.

At every little sound,

Expectantly he turned around,

A glimmer of hope in his eyes

Under the still starry skies

Where winds softly whisper.

Finally he spotted her

In the lights dim

Her beauty beheld him

Her graceful poise

Her enchanting eyes

Flashed upon his inward eye

Images deep within that lie,

Visions that love arose

Time immemorial knows.

On the springs of a dream

She was a gliding stream

The sound of a lovely song

Her tresses flowing and long

Done without care or caution

Were the foam of an ocean.

Her face serene and calm

Her approach so warm

She was a pearl rare

A maiden lovely and fair

A dainty lily in the park

A lone star in the dark.

Soon she edged past

And reached him at last

Together their eyes bound

Unaware of the turmoil around.

In the moonlit daze,

Locked in her embrace

The world ceased to exist

Life seemed a distant mist.

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Soul Poetry

If a river were an escape route,

I'd get myself a raft.

And float away from everything,

upon my little craft.

I'd hang my legs from off the side,

and dip my toes right in.

I'd trail my fingers through the current,

to feel the energy within'.

I'd splash a bit and make some waves.

Maybe dive head first,

Straight into the water,

just to quench my thirst.

I'd swim around awhile,

feel the rivers pull.

I'd take a sip, now and then,

and drink till I was full.

I'd drift along among the rapids,

rolling along my way.

I'd flow and ebb with the tide,

Until I reached the bay.

There I'd climb aboard a ship,

and sit myself within'.

Just ride it up the river,

and start my journey again!


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Wild Child



She's headed for the "Wild Side"
looking for a thrill.
Running down that road too fast,
Just to feel the chill.


She knows that what she's doing,
is on the side of wrong.
But at this point she doesn't care,
She just needs someone strong.


She wakes up every morning,
with the feeling in her bones,
That if she doesn't at least try,
One day she'll be alone.


She wants to take her chances,
be a little bold.
She fears that if she doesn't now,
Sooner or later she'll be too old.


She knows all that lies ahead,
just around that bend.
She hopes to find some freedom there,
and maybe one true friend.


She's out there now just searching,
looking for some fun.
She'll party all the night,
then bed down with the sun.


She knows she may get hurt,
and lose her very heart.
but hell she already knew that,
from the very start.


She's out there now just cruisin'
and getting very riled.
She's not the one she was before,
this brand new Wild Child.


But if you ever see her,
make sure she's alright
Cause she never came home again,
after she rode into the night......



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A Place Where No One Knows

Rhyming Poetry

My comfort zone, isolation room,

a place where no one knows

deep inside my being.

Only I know which path

leads to that portal

only I have so shiny a key

which unlocks my door.

Its in that 'zone'

that my screams are expelled

only to bounce off

the soundproof walls of my soul

engulfing my own ears in echo.

Its in that room that my tears puddle

on the bottomless floor of sorrow

while I walk barefoot in tepid pools

till my body re-absorbs

each drop of salty moisture

(lest tears be wasted)

Its in there...

only in there

that I live disease free,

healthy, whole.

For all afflictions must be checked at the door.

Its in there I have peace

I have calm...I have normalcy...I have sanity

but as all good things must come to end

I can never loiter for long

as always when I become comfortable at last

fate steps behind me

pushing me forcefully out that door

right back into stark reality

of my existance here.

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My Veil Of Darkness

Soul Poetry

My Veil Of Darkness


I feel I am the safest there,

because no one can see.

The darkness casts its shadows,

enclosing and hiding me.

My saddness is out of view,

from anyone else's sight.

It's consumed by the blackness,

and covered by the night.

My tears they are invisible,

to the naked eye.

No one knows they are flowing,

in the darkness as I cry.

Behind my ebony shroud,

is the pain that etches my face.

My veil of darkness protects me,

spun from midnight's lace.

As the sun arises,

I go through life's parade.

Smiling as though all is fine,

Portraying my daylight charade.


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Cheerful faces made up with paint white

Glowing with stark colors extra bright

Wonderful array of emotions in faces'all display

Making people happy is their best way of life

Some might think it's only a simple job

But really it's more than that, it's a choice

A decision inside they've come to terms with

Even when deep inside they may be also broken-hearted

They continue making people laugh just the same

And entertaining children of all the ages just alike

They bring into the world so much joy and happiness

As they spread to the mermerized crowds all their charms

Funny faces made up of paint white

Melting sad hearts and sowing everywhere hopes

Even when they may be hurting deep inside

They always bring to the world and over us so much joy!

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2003 Poetry

i tried so much to touch the silhouette form trailing me day and night

but once I vary my moves and turns, it too varies its grooves and curves

it pursues me, it follows me, it stalks me, it’s everywhere i go

now tell me, does it also sleep whenever i’m asleep?

written 1/17/2003

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Lunch with the chatterboxes

Lunching today with the chatterboxes

They flick and toss their floxy loxes

They are as loud as thunder for all to hear

Swaying their pitter patter from my ear to ear

One feeds her child and doesn’t draw breath

He beckons “THAT’S ENOUGH” to a mum who is deaf

For her babbling banter is her only care

In between her munches on our heavenly fare

Another sits back. The boss of the bunch

Choosing each syllable, delivered with a punch

For the cost will be hers and all respect too

She will let them all know that she owns this few

Up goes a cheer, followed by blooms

The youngest and the fairest, the floor she assumes

Her delivery is pointed and her manner exiting

Like the fisherman’s baited hook, she has the whole room biting

And finally in the corner. Quiet content RED

She has captured her percentage of what has been said

She allows the boss to rule her only to the extent of her need

It is the ones like this that bring harmony to the breed

Lunch is at a close

The chatterboxes have dissipated

I look forward to tomorrow

What lunch should be anticipated

For this meal was but a game

And I, the anonymous receiver

Tomorrow’s feast may be

With the quiet achiever

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When you are sitting in a sandwich bar trying to write and the noise from the next table is overpowering, don't join em...write about em!!
MORAL: Don't write in the SUBWAY darlin'. Don't write in the pouring rain.

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Voyeurism and Writers Block

Voyeuristic it may be

I scan the prose of all I see

Addicted to drink the works of others worldwide

Until I scribe my own thoughts from inside

I would not steal or plagiarize

My own creations I devise

But the insight I get from the other poets sojourn

Stirs my juices to flourish, from each one I do learn

Prose and poetry, words stop, frustration

We all want to write for our own adulation

So when I lose my way, the brick wall of the scribe

I escape to the pow wow of the world poets tribe

Spinning and yarning of colours unique

I celebrate the grandeur as each one climbs its peak

I am rarely left empty no matter how intense or obscure

Its my dependence and its healthy and deliciously pure

So I thank all the dreamers, the haters and the lovers

The self proclaimed prophets, those who write from beneath the covers

Those who imagine their own death and those who celebrate living

I thank you all. You know not what you are giving

And if you have decended into my world. Feeling the block of the writer

Your wracking your brain and your fingers they draw tighter

Flex your keys to the world and consume many wild inspirations

We share your addiction, now share with us your creation.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

After not having anything spill from my pen for a while I found myself reading others.
Thanks for the INSPIRATION!!!

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