What is it you ask of me?What is it you ask of me?The scars are deep You cannot see,What is it You ask of me?Lightening strikes just once they say,Electric dreams can guide your wayTo places etched within your mind,Take my heart and you will findYou're safe for all eternity What was it you asked of me?
Thoughts!Thoughts can surround you,bombard and astound fewthey start a new day,and end in a waythat fill up our heads,at night in our beds.Thoughts can employ,and often destroyour hearts and our minds,when they chose to rewindthe yesterday voices,that were often unkind.Thoughts can bring laughter,to now and hereafteror send us within,in a giant tailspinand dread coming out,to a world full of doubt.But…Thoughts can bring starts,that can overflow heartswhen your love has survived,amongst battles contrivedthe one thought that stays,Is that life's good, always!
Compassion Of The Heart!Come over here and talk to me,I told my little boy.“Oh Mom I’m mad, my brand new friend,stole my only toy!”My dear sweet son, it pains me so,to see you so upset. But there’s one thingyou ought to know, one thing you won’t forget!“Please mother tell me, what it isthis thing I ought to mind? Can I buy it, is it new ormaybe does it wind?”Ah my son it’s nothing new, it’s been around awhile.It’s something that I always know, that won’t go out of style!Son it’s nothing stores can sell, or put upon a shelf,It’s not a truck or Lego set, or some poor garden elf.Son, there’s some that don’t have much,your friend and many more. But we will find another toy,in another store!It’s sad of course your toy is gone, theft is never right…But,think of how your friend might feel, without a toy in sight!Of course he may have borrowed it, cause friend’s they often doI mean to sa
Compassion Of The Heart...Come over here and talk to me,I told my little boy."Oh mom I'm mad, my brand new friend,stole my only toy!""My dear sweet son, it pains me so,to see you so upset, but there's one thingyou ought to know, one thing you won't forget.""Please mother tell me, what it isthis thing I ought to mind? Can I buy it, is it newor maybe does it wind?"Ah my son it's nothing new, it's been around awhileIt's something that I always knew, that won't go out of style!Son, it's nothing stores can sell, or put upon a shelf,it's not a truck or Lego set, or some poor garden elf.Son there's some that don't have much,your friend and many more...but we will find another toy,in another store!It's sad of course your toy is gone, theft is never right...but think of how your friend might feel, without a toy in sight.Of course he may have borrowed it, cause friends they often doI mean to say what is a friend? What does that mean to you
For ALL my online friends and watchers!PC PRAYERDear Lord:Every single eveningAs I'm lying here in bedThis tiny little prayerKeeps running through my head.God bless my Mom and DadAnd all my familyKeep them warm and safe from harmFor they're so close to me.And God, there is one more thingI wish that you could do.Hope you don't mind me asking,Bless my computer too.Now I know that it's not normalTo bless a mother board,But listen just a secondWhile I explain it to you Lord.You see, that little metal boxHolds more than odds & endsInside those small compartmentsRest so many of my FRIENDS.I know so much about themBy the kindness that they giveAnd this little scrap of metalTakes me in, to where they live.By faith is how I know themMuch the same as I know youWe share in what life brings usAnd from that our friendship grew.Please, take an extra minuteFrom your duties up aboveTo bless those in my address bookThat's filled with so much love!Wherever else this prayer may reachTo each and every friend,
Christmas Of Horror's Contest!“Hallowmas!”Night time always takes on a character of its own I thought as I walked along the darkly lit road, heading for home imagining I saw spooky creatures, coming to get me! I missed the bus so I decided to walk home…bad mistake as I scolded myself for being so stupid! It was cold and the fog decided to settle in around me, not yet quite thick that I couldn’t see ahead so I quickened my pace, hoping to make some ground and get home before it got too bad.Off in the distance I could see the end of the road before I cut into the woods and made a slight detour, to get over on my street. There stood a house that looked so weathered and beaten it must be abandoned I thought as I took a closer look. It had a heavy wrought iron gate surrounding the building, with dozens of weeping willows dotted all over the yard. It seemed befitting they were weeping willows, because of the state the house was in, pretty sad! Two huge gargoy
October Full MoonYour blood-red fruit in the sky let my soul flow,You draw me slowly to yearning distances,And while the crows’ croaks echo on foggy fields,I travel to the stars, full of nostalgia.The wind in the willows whistles with sorrowful flute tune,And while I follow you to the destinations of our dreams,I cast a glance at the scenery full of fruits.From the depth of the earth, song and whisper raise.Our love was already gone before it began.I could only search but I never found you.The sand of the hourglass vanished between our hands,I had to get over the unavoidable farewell.The gossamers of past dreamsCover my thoughts like a web.They make the brown-colored leafless trees shakeAs well as my walk.October full moon, take me with you on the journey.Help me to fly to the other side of summer.In a magical, eternal wayYou and I will walk together under the fresh green leaves.
Human Nature.Human Nature.The dreamers, The believers And the ambitious achievers.Need the realists to stop them from flying too close to the sun.The realists, The logical idealists And the informed defeatists.Need the dreamers to show them how some struggles can be won.You see I am beginning to get the gist,Of how we all unwittingly coexist.Neither one can ever be dismissed,As long as the reign of mankind persists.As one tries, the other watches.When one flies, the other dislodgesStories aimed to defame, name, claim and shame.Assuring and securing that the harsh reality still remains.Kela Lewis-Morin
Hymn to the MoonIn the hours of your brillianceDark soul's child is dying.You cause new visions -The sad eye becomes blind.Moon, mirror of the sun in the darkness!Kisses are easily shedIn your protective refuge.Caressed by Venus' whisperProhibited barriers yield.Moon, celestial crown!Illuminator of the star map,You show the way to the lost.Those who seek shelter in the bright lightCower at the wooden bridge.Moon, watch-tower of deliverance!Underneath your canopyAll earth-creatures are sleeping.In your lap you gently rockGerminating traces of life.Moon, bearer of life,Executor of time,Galactical guardian!Moon, patron of love,White swan of the night,Banner of light!Moon, cosmic dust,Keeper of the star gate,God of midnight!
Variable TruthI do not know my futureI cannot see the vagaries ofTime's tidesThe ebbs and flows elude meYet, for all the uncertaintiesin all the chaos ofdistance traveledtime spentandsouls lost andgained,there is one string that I can followone thread that shines for me andthrough methat pulses in time with my heartYoursI swear, even across this expansethis eternityI can almost seeyou
StarlightI walk along a road of dreamspaved withexpectations andwishesstepping on stones of starry-eyedwonderandregretalive for all my failings andcontent for my lack of fulfillmentalways uplifted and upliftingupon this winding, wendingslow-spiral upwardsTreading on hope and faith with whatgraceI can manageas awash in lucidityas the stellar nurseries of mychildhoodWould you believe that I saw it all with myheart,not my eyes?
Messsage in a bottleSometimes people cry out for help,I think we all have witnessed it,We watch them break,We watch their tears,And we see something in their eyes,The last piece of hope,The hope that as well could be a message in a bottle.Who will ever know if someone noticed that tiny little bottle in the ocean,Or if they did,Did they pick it up?I have seen a lot of bottles in my time,And most of the time I pick them up,But I notice quite a few times I don´t,It is like they become invisible,Even if they scream loudly right in front of you,I think something is wrong,Why do we leave the bottle in the ocean?I clearly can see they need help,And I see it,I really do,How can you pretend not to?
Gravity ClaimA wound to walk throughEither side of meAll that I leave behindDiscretion in motionTo predict the outcome of survivalI subtractThis exposureUncleanA state of certaintyTo devourA primal instinctI come closer yetTo closureISwollenWith a softened stareA birthThat shall remain namelessTo shut out the worldTo ease downA passive glanceAnd into meAs all structures are repairedI choose to stay hereAs one outlines the other
justit started out as a message of honest to god tearshonest to god honestyand she was saying she was saying she wasa mistake and we were we were mistakingmeaningless signs for road signs to somewhere wherethe great elsewhereand a qu-quiet whisper-per transformedtwisted twisted and bent and bled andher voice her voice became this monster this monster offeedback and static and feedback and feedback and heartache(the sound of heartache rips the space between your ears till you are nothing left but lightness and heaviness all in one space all in one spaceand you can't breathe you can't breathe you can't fucking breathe or hear or see or taste a goddamn thing)it was all noise noise noise noise no-oise-sebouncing in the fissures of a love-torn mindand it was it was the sensation of falling awaythen the greatness of the jumbled sounddissipated like a f o gandyou saw along the path w
words for the anxiousinescapable fingers curled cage upon her facelips, red and parted, shine through phalangeal barsgentle nostril flair as she expels airand inhalesfluttering hair draped, touching tangled thoughts draining darkness creeps up her throat , encompassingher whole being to shake muscles aching and tensed bymuffled murmurs (indecipherable, unimportant)her trembling chingiving in to terror of some unknown threat still present and reflected in wet eyestears trapped in surface tension shimmergasp over the lump in her throat obstacles for oxygenmind is losinglost
and we wondered how she spends her daysmost days, she is afraid to be.some days, she looks into the sky and sees herself fallingand then ceasing to be."one day" she says, "one day I will beafraid to bedead."
nonsensefake and finethe fucking farce--frenching fallacies is fancied philosophyfor fatherless fools.
Between Heaven and HellEveryone has a story to tellThe time and place the falls from grace.We all walk at our own paceforever attempting to win the illusionary race.So I took the time, to sit and rewind....granted pause to the cause, reflections of the mind.Years upon years slowly drifted on by...Journeys left behind slumbering alongside the road of unknown,collecting dirt and debris, anxiously awaiting to be set free, but could not flee...no one to save me and turn the key.Everything has a time and a place within the enchanted space.A story to tell of heaven and hell...Realise this upon states of bliss,In the beginning we all fell--in the end we all shall fall.Can no longer ignore the ancient call.
DisintegratingI was never one of the birds,Just silly enough to look into the skyAnd pretend.There's a man I know; he's forgotten a piece of himself, I think.He says he can't fold the butterflies anymore.He's lying, I promiseAnd I love him anyway.I never understood him when he said I was made of soot.The hurricane boy's at my window again. HeComes to me late at night and taps on the glass."The weather is so lovely this evening," he tells me.I go outside and he trades me his rainwater tearsFor all the beats my heart has skipped.He keeps them in manilla envelopes and hides themUnder his bed.I've become addicted to the dreaming, to make-believing I'm blind and deaf for a little while.It's starting to be too difficult for me to tell which is wakingAnd which is sleeping any longer.My chronic day-dreamingIs getting worse. I can't even remember them, and I'm losing trackOf the days.Maybe if I close me eyesFor just a few minutes more.
I hope you are reading thisthe person I love loves music much too muchand the person I love loves that I love the quiet and easy days loves that I like to stay up late (or early) till the birds sing of morning andthe person I love loves that I love to hold hands and hold a body but only when I know them fullyand the person I love loves listening to my songs and listening to my voice and to my poetry and storiesthe person I love has songs to share too and a voice that melts my heart and words that mold it back into something nostalgia old and inspired newand the person I love loves to look around and take it in once in a while and wonders why we can’t just run away to a secluded place in the forest with a cabin that harbors all of our needs, keeps you and me in a space apart where it rains when we’re sad because we would always be sad together and where the sun is warm on our skin when we are smiling together and laughing together because I made a spectacular pun out of seemingly nothing sp
WondermentSome days, I find myself counting the s e c o n d s and the thump thump thump of my heart and pondering quietly what I could have should have would have said were I better braver stronger and a lot l e s s like me but all I can manage now is . . . . . . . I'm sorry I miss you I love you i love you i love you
Affair Of The Heart!LovemeasuresHeart'streasures!