Middle of Madness

I can hear every tick of the clock.
My body is showered from nervous sweat.
Oh no my pencil tip broke,
and I must stop to sharpen it;
all the while losing time.
My mind has gone as blank
as the paper which I’m writing on.
Tick – Tock goes the clock as time moves on.
Times up the voice shots;
My hand goes limp and my pencil falls to
rest upon the edge of the paper.
I let out a big sigh of relief, for the madness has subside,
For my mid-terms are done.

poem by Lore Me34
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Speck Like Me

I’m often perplex that the same God who made the heavens and the earth took time to make a speck like me.

Why would the same God who put water in the lakes, oceans and seas; want to create a speck like me?
For I can’t fly

like His birds. Neither can I shine like his sun. But low and behold He is still proud of a speck like me.

Now, in this world there are those who seem to believe that they are bigger than life, but they too are only a speck like me.

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Emma

When I close my eyes I can still feel the gentleness of her touch.
I can even feel the warmth of her breath.
I remember looking deep into her eyes,
and wondering what mystery they hold.
She has such a joyous laugh. It makes me smile every time I think of it.
Now, I have only spoken to her once or twice, but from those conversations I have fell in love. And I know one day she’ll feel the same.
By the way the name of the woman who has stolen my heart is;
Emma.

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The Power of the Voice

Have we become such a slave to social media that we forgot the power of the voice?
Hearing I love you is so much more meaningful then seeing a smiling avatar with a heart.
Actual of hearing the sound of someone laughing is more joyful then LOL.
Someone saying I am sorry is more powerful than a face with a teardropp running down.
As much as we communicate with one another these days to me it seems as if the world has gone mute.
We have forgotten the power of the voice.

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Face of God

Someone asked; God what if we were to meet face to face?
What face would I see?
Would your eyes be slanted and blue?
Would you have a jewel in the middle of your forehead?
Would your noise be pointed or would it be flat?
Would your lips be thin or would they be full?
God what face would I see?

God answers with these words.
If we were to meet face to face here is what you would see.
Pick up a mirror and the face staring back at you is not only you it is also me.

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Alone in the Sun

Every morning the sun rises, but I awake alone in the dark.
Alone in the dark I live with no hope for light.
I have never seen a rose bloom or a bird fly.
Never once have I been able to gaze upon my loves beauty.
Or see my mother’s angelic smile.
I have heard people argue about what color God is.
I have said myself it doesn't matter the color as long as I one day get to see God's face.
But until that day come I'll travel this earth blind from birth;
Alone in the Dark.

poem by Lore Me34
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Don't Desever

As I sit at my computer staring at your picture.
I have come to one conclusion.
I don’t deserve you.
I don’t deserve a woman whose smile is so bright.
I don’t deserve someone who is to beautiful for words.
I don’t deserve a queen such as you.
I often laugh when I think of how luck of a man
I am to have you in my life because
I don’t deserve you.

I dedicate this poem to my friend and hopefully some day more than a friend Tatanya
“A Russian Queen”

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Hidden Voices in the Dark

I hear whispers in the murky corners.
I hear echoes coming out of the shadows.
I hear screams screeching through the dim black.
The hidden voices in the dark.

A son is whispering accept me even if I am gay.
A daughter echo of daddy please doesn’t touch me there.
And a mother screams I did not know.
They are some of the hidden voices in the dark.

In the silence of the night
when all is somber.
That is when my mind’s ear
is tune in to all
The Hidden Voices in the Dark

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Love Yet Hate

How can I love her as much as I do?
Yet hate her just the same.
I love her lips when they kiss me.
Yet I hate her lips when she uses them to criticize me.
I love to gaze into her eyes.
Yet I hate the cold gaze she gives when she's mad at me.
I love the touch of her hand as we stroll along the beach.
Yet I hate the way her hand feels when she slaps my cheek.
Our passion is so strong for one another when love we really love.
Yet when we hate we really hate.
We love yet we hate.

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One More Thing to Say

When it comes to you my words seem
to never end, for it seems that I always
have one more thing to say.

One more thing to say
about your beautiful face.

One more thing to say
about how much
I long to feel the warmth of
your embrace.

One more thing to say
about your words that
make me laugh.

One thing to say about
how finding you I have
found my better half.

[...] Read more

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