Tag Archives: past

Where Once You Were

I sense you in the air
Where once you were
A living breathing part of me
Shades of you floating like butterfly trails
My heart so briefly wanders to our once upon a time
And I can't help but wonder
How the hell are you these days?

Happy new month!!! May it be your best yet. Blessings



it stared them in the face
As if daring them to be rid of it
it made a mockery of them every step of the way

One garment day in and out in the midst of flashy
Colors and spring like pastels

It haunted them in the dark
when power was out for lack of payment
it taunted them as if daring them to do something about it
and laughed in their faces when they sat motionless
Unable to speak or refute its presence
Unable to move or break from its crippling effect
breaking them in pieces night after night
when empty refrigerators stared them in the dark

It called out to them in the night when stomachs rumbled
and tiny tummies ached from hungry days and starved nights that had
Lost count and begun to feel "normal"

It made a mockery of them as a whole
And individually
from the man of the house
To the babe innocent and unfortunate

It stared them in the face day and night
As if daring them to be rid of it

And when finally it had conquered in the physical
it crept slowly like a disease into their minds
and captured their thinking and illuminating thought process
That perhaps one day one of them could stare back at it
And once and for all be rid of it

It stared at them in the face
Even in death it didn't relent
But glared coldly 
not giving a damn

Published in Black Fox Literary Magazine -www.blackfoxlitmag.com

The Kiss Of Your Death

Poison and kisses

Your eyes are dead
And this kiss you now offer
I call the kiss of your death
A forced attempt at restoring nothing
Poison they are now to your own soul

My words like darts wait their turn to fight back
Rhythmically taking their lyrical time

You remain dazed in the moment
Unsure of the now new and stark reality

Silently choking on your paragraphs…

Saturday Morning Sun

Gloriously golden in its early morning rise
Saturday morning sun melts Thursday's winter white

A Collection Of Short Poems VI



Raking golden colored leaves on my front yard
My body curls as cold air blows past my eyes into my heart
Painful thoughts of you welling up like tears deep inside


Lost in the warmth of his timely words
I envisioned the embrace would be even better
Lust shaded my views as I succumbed to his will


This breath
No longer warm
Just tepid
Stinking of lust
Ugly reminders of you


Your eyes are darts
Achingly piercing the heart

Scars and tears
Stained crimson red
Evidence of your hidden truth


I am not defined by him
But this new found love sustains me


In the heart of my poems
Lies your love
Beating my motives to life


Your love sits written in ink
Sealed with desire
On the tablet of my beating heart

Here now passion resides
Scribbled all over
You and I as one


You are my poem
I write in love
Youthful lust
And happy thoughts of you


I spread this canvas of light
Golden in its ray
Like summer sun bright and warm
My heart paints
And caresses your name
In love


You are my poem
The ying to this passionate yang
My calm and peaceful Zen

My inspiration and quiet meditation
I write in love of you

* A lovely, joyfilled week to you all*

Pained Memories


She traced her frail fingers through every scar and mark knowing they ran deeper than they looked. Yes they did.

Each scar told a story, a tale of her life; every mark a memory, a reminder of her pained past. The death of her parents, the foster homes, the abuse, secret abortions… marriages that didn’t work, the one that almost worked…his death…the surgeries….the buried secrets…the…

As details of these pained and hurting memories continued to play in her mind, she felt an unusual presence and looked up at the ghost standing before her. Tears poured down her already swollen and unrecognizable face as her worst and biggest fear was confirmed…

Even after the type of life she had lived, this was the one thing she could never handle…she could never live with this.

She reached for her cell phone as the tears continued to pour, the clouds outside her home darkened for a brief moment, almost as if acknowledging her doom…she sat back quietly waiting…waiting for the news of what maternal instincts already knew…

Her cell phone finally rang after weeks of waiting…praying…hoping…crying…waiting and more waiting…

She let out an inaudible gasp as the voice on the other end spoke…the cell phone dropped from her already frail hands crashing to the ground… her fears confirmed, she walked to the mirror…looked at herself and the ghost standing behind her….for the first time in three weeks after hearing the news of her only daughter missing on campus, Monica smiled…Lillian was the only thing she did right in her 50 years of living…her only good thing was now gone…she reached for her revolver…

Five minutes later a loud shot rang through her quiet suburban neighborhood….it awoke her 35 year old neighbor, who crawled under his bed and dialed 911…