Quarrels
There's not much time. All the reasons to quarrel;
used up moments, and never you are right. life
Crumbles when we fight- why not wait to reason,
and then call your rights. Is a thing we all feel…to
win the quarrel against the other. What makes you
think you are always right- you’re full of egocentric
thoughts and lock of selfless. The mirror looks
back- not knowing who reflects. Full of it you!
You detest my opinions and speech, all my intensions
of deed, turn dark. The enemy looks sweeter than you.
I never know which words to speak, where to
start or even how to end...when you try to seduce
my thoughts you end up in quarrels somehow,
it never ends, it never stops, Then you ask “forgive
me” And the humble spirit in me forgives- but again
the war comes back to defeat our peace. Quarrel.
Without you he just can’t be.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Waiting for you
Waiting for you
Waiting by the strand of the sea, the sand
cold and wet, the moon in silence guards my path,
the wait is tedious and long for I feel is not in vain,
the tide was rising in a rather slow motion, I could
smell the scent of the ocean, a scent I can't see.
Countless of stars in the sky each with a unique gallant,
the air fondly indulged my face, and a tranquil
feeling drew me to a state of peace, a cadence voice
singing like angels in the wind. A thousand years may
pass me by, counting the grains of sand, endless till
I fade away with them, I'll walk the shore with freezing
toes, with no hands to hold me warm. I'm still here near
the moon, near the waves that call your name,
they hear my heart, they keep the secret I pour in tears,
I wait here still and weary with my head up with a
little left of my happy heart…
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Frame
Frame
I could frame my
mind to what my
thoughts become,
"words spoken"
or I could frame the
night to think my
agony is gone.
I can frame almost
anything I quess,
from a heart in grief
looking for some relief,
the mailman,
the milkman,
and everything
that passes by,
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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The lies
Crawling into my bed, with innocent eyes,
hunting my fantasies, Why? 'I ask myself'
Why? the lies. The barbarous lies, coming
out of your mouth; I pity myself, but even
more the depths of your soul.That holds a
deep sharp tongue; the lies have spoken
your hazarding thoughts. Shame will hunt
you down, when the Angel's of heaven
manifest their anguish. The lies I believed
in; will speak back to you. And torment you
like a prison sentence, the angels of heaven
will never entwine, with hell and fire. I am the
heaven you are the fire that burns the pure
and holds the wicked.The lies that come from
the heart of evil. The lies will never conquer the
depths of my thoughts, nor the truth of my soul,
the lies will eat you alive, and keep you from
the bliss and joys, becoming like knives through
your tongue. The lies that grow in your twisted
mind.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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I'll be there if you need me
I'll be there if you need me with
a bruised heart, with a wounded
soul, and yet inexhaustible, but
then again drained away from
reality, I'll be there rigid and exact.
When you need consolation, my
love will flourish your grieve and
gleam your darkest moments.
When loneliness strikes your
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Without you
The world sits still without you,
war's day's night's, season's,
without you I'm waiting for
something to do, when I realized
there's nothing, time passes me
by, 'I've always felt that' and
still it feels like there's so much
to do, sometimes I feel like
a little planet, that no one has
yet discovered; without you is
like missing a piece of the sky,
or the ocean, I feel like a puzzle
and the one piece missing is you.
Without you there's no hunger,
no thirst, without you my hands
no longer will write pastoral's to
the night, without you my eyes
will not gaze your charms again.
I cherish sweet love, thy lovely
argument of bloody tears, without
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Vanish
The elements in my thoughts are emptiness in
my hands, the uncertainty of your reach, i cannot
think of, but only hope that the day is not yet gone
entirely from my extending shelf. Where the literature
of infinite prose are the taste of one self, to become
myself as one into your spoken words. The writing
all becomes a shadow of many regrets. My hands
can only feel the texture of the paperback, but not
the words written, they can only register in my
conscious to stay and appear when i need them. I
cannot grab your voice nor your thoughts, if only
i could reach the sky and write my prose in a cloud
you shall read my contemplation from a distance
where ever you are. Tell me where it is your standing,
unless you want me lost. For eons I have longed the
moment to come. Tell me where to find you unless
you want me to fall. The prose only say you wait
desperately for hope.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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My companion
I don't know where I'll be,
when who ever buys my book to read.
I was just writing the date on my new
notebook, and these thoughts came to my mind.
Sometimes when I'm going over some
writing I see the date on the paper,
and it brings me memories of
how I felt at the time when I
wrote those poems,
Those notes, they have the flavor
of me. My intimate thoughts my most
saddest and happiest moments of
my existence.
My poems my notes my
stories and my hands, they are one.
One memory in all together.
The way my hands clinch my
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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The Waving
I'm here, you are there,
a vessel waving in our veins,
the hours that count my significant
life, the constant image of thee,
you! you are the title of my book,
of my memento, how I seek
thee in the little things I see
your face there in the body
of a grasshopper, a butterfly,
a nectar flower, any where
I look I see the endless of your
profound eyes, in the landscape
of my deserted life.
Where do you go and where do I look,
it is not that I worship thee
but that I need to live.
I'm dressed with the vision
of the bride to be in vain,
who told me I was his,
I can lie all I want,
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Becoming
Come and let her fall in the silence of your voice;
never ask if she'll remain, the sobs escaping
through the sound of running water will make
her voice in a whisper and reveal the infinity of
her falling tears, rising so many questions, of
which, or why the uncertain secrets of love, the
never ending yearn, that grabs and holds on to
her skin, she becomes steady and firm like the
North Star, waiting to bring her a dropp or sip of
hope, it seems clearly more each day every time
she loves someone Is doomed, good things never
last "she thinks" not for her, she knows is a lie that
keeps hunting her path. Perhaps she shall be like
butterflies and live a life without an address, live
among the flowers and nectars, without the mental
thought of loving again, become a gift to the wind
and forget what gave her so much grief and
unhappiness, she shall live for all purpose of nature.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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