An Idea
An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Against all odds
I'll tattoo in ink your
tender touch to my breast,
or maybe
on my way home,
I'll carve your name in my
favorite maple tree,
for I do not know really
how to keep you
close to my door.
And when my heart beats
violently a thousand times
for you.
I'll remind it,
you are in an ample
nation far from my reach.
A chapel’s bell will send
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Thorns
A deep dark ocean swallowed
her dreams, a black rose with
thorns pinched again and
again the edge of her wounds.
And vivid cuts adorned her like
a perfect crying frame, decorating
her heart with only suffering sights.
Shadows of dark clouds follow
constantly by the mist in her eyes.
Path conceal with her own grief,
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Disintegrate
The pain enables your will power, like the
sand that sucks in the waves of the oceans
edge- it can't flood much more. Life is all
about pain, if you let it rule- pain smiles,
cries, pain conceals behind our jokes,
and smiles, in our dreams and fantasies.
Hide, hide, but never leave! sickens your
guts, The world is full of it, pain! Tell me
the purpose, tell me the good side- yes
pain means your still alive- in body and
spirit. What if we had a switch we could
turn off and on, to make ourselves free
of pain, and when we need to weep, turn
it back on. I quess there's just one way and
that's to surrender yourself. No more pain,
or live with it- pain rules you, hunts you-
making it less easy, let's go back, and just
release it from our world.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Yearning to die
Why should i yearn?
I'm dry and weary, I feel like a zombie
naked inside and my blood becomes fatigued.
Even then my life i cherish, for I know that
the autumn leaves will fall and brighten
my injured heart. My thoughts cannot bring
me suicides language, I'm not a friend of evil,
yet still he tries to eat me alive. Worn-out; i can
still feel my body rigorous; my mind giving
signals to my weary body, not to give up. I did
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Essences
The shadows that follow my essences,
capturing the invisible power that commands
the love of men kind; many thou of odor's
form an invisible rule, capturing the intoxicating
scent that blinds beauty.
Odor's, scent are capture from the most small
particle and pieces of existence, ruling each
movement awakening passion and lust.
The splendid orange blossoms that preserve my
youth, will then perish when age comes near.
But my scent will stay alive in every part of my
belongings and in every place of my existence,
and in the shadows of my death, the essence will
rule the existence of my lover taking a last breath,
my soul and spirit will take over to
assure my life will not be forgotten after I'm gone,
the essences the intoxicating scent of a woman's
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Your presence
In the presence of you, I become like an
exotic flower with delicate flavor's and color's,
I scream in silence the pleasures my body
projects, a delicious and delicate emotion
only you can bring to my sense. When you
arrive to meet with me, I can only think of the
magical ways you caress my needs. I feel like
I'm about to dine in a romantic place with
exquisite wines and the best orchestra, with
you on my side. My gentle ways and your
ardent ways, they blend together and make
beautiful music, my darling the presence of you
is to me like a balmy breeze, with the essence
you possess and the passion you awake in my
senses, with all this you own, I'll become immortal
and never be forgotten. And till the day comes I'll
be immortal in your arms, and we will become
one in two till eternity ends.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Endless reach
Attached to her skin, the overwhelming desire
that makes her days endless and hopelessly
aware of the absence of his touch, the never will be,
'thought' the endless yearn, the feeling of a touch
will never be, certainly not his, her skin will never
meet his hands. He was too superior, she was too
ordinary, The fame rules his world, Simplicity is not
with him. Blindness doesn't realize that he is really
naked. No gold, diamond or pearls will keep his soul.
But still he is not conscious, ordinary her will never
catch up. Time will tell him, when the white hair and
wrinkle skin start's to show. The killing system of time,
eventually will get him; his distinguish and shinning
fame will reflect his ego making his world dramatically
change into an old man with regrets
and disappointments; Will leave behind a mark.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Abandon
I leave you; I leave you with your life,
with your lovers, your adventures and projects,
I leave you without my thoughts, sad and
wounded, without my questions
without my broken answers, but do
not believe as a fact everything, do not
believe never believe, this false abandon,
because I will be there when you least expected,
for example; in an old age maple tree with dark
nodding branches, or in far away galaxies that
shine higher when you are there gazing at them.
I leave you without the memories that lived in our
minds for decades, I leave you, I leave you. But never,
never be assure of all this ridiculous abandon, never
my darling, never because in this abandon I'll always
follow your steps, in anything you might
gaze at so hard that you disappear bringing me
back into your lonely world all over again.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Ode to passion
I say, too much passion in us poets,
like a touch of a thousand
saccharine taste invading our veins,
we cannot restrain, we
cannot condemned the only reason for our being,
passion is what keeps us breathing,
passion can make us see it all
different than others,
not to cease, not to die
or give-up, passion grows in our soul,
it reminds us it is there
every minute of our day,
when we need to count the hours
to get to him/her.
Passion is the sedactive to our worst day.
The essential of reason,
the way to a path,
to rivers and streams that find our dreams,
passion is a vessel making a net
reaching our heart our souls
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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