Poems And Quotes

Love's restricted to those we know
Care not for others but ourselves
When doctors and lawyers are criminals
What's gone wrong with this world

Love lost, panic started
Do something to change it
Before it's perished

The world is lost without our love
Cherish it, adore it
Before it's lost

by
Gary R. Hess

Time withered in the sand
As illusions grew across the land
Many people came to see
What it was that just could not be

The ocean rose as high as trees
With people needing help from you and me
Sending money wasn't enough
As hope and prayers were needed more

All religions and nations
Came together in their aid
The people still have hope
To continue their lives once again

To feel the wrath of such tragedy
We can only imagine how it must be
But one world away, one can not forget
The strength of a Tsunami

by
Gary R. Hess

Don't fall too deep
Into the death trap
There is nothing to gain
And everything to lose

You get attached
To people you don't know
Only to get hurt
For their stupid show

Your mind gets boggled
With thoughts that aren't there
Your heart gets crushed
Just so they can snicker

The internet is my trap
Just like many others
Do not fall too deep
Into your death trap

by
Gary R. Hess

Tick tock says the clock
The days are moving so quickly
Soon the day will end and then comes the black
With stars and moon moving so swiftly

Romance may be in the air
Now is the time to be free and wild
And never again will time let you pair
So be yourself but treat your mate so mild

Two together is the gem of the sea
That glows and shines
Being remembered and cherished with glee
When time passes and the church bell chimes

Calling you home to the Father
When it is your time to move along
Making room for the youthful with vigor
As the grandfather clock will bong

Is it eleven or twelve
Shall I hurry and speed my walk
To romance and dreams into which I delve
For tick tock again says the clock

by

Donald R Geske

houghts of you illuminate my spirit;
Never a flicker of flame, but with
Arching bolts which strike with a force
That disturbs my equilibrium.

My mind races as waves of passion flush over
My pale skin, causing me to gaze upon visions
Of impossible romantic possibilities.

Pathetic is this woman who anticipates the
True rhythm of love, with a man she will never hold.

My imagined discourse of thoughts leave me suffering,
As my lips quiver with the words I shall never speak
to his: “I have loved you more than anybody in this world.”

by

Valerie Jochum

My mind vibrating with a dull thump
dulling my senses
clouding my mind
new places and new faces
go unregistered before my eyes
a stop at the airport lounge and I’m drunk under the table
groggy and tired
jet lag sets in.

a soft voice lifts me from my drunken stupor
i look around curiosity getting the best of me
i see the embodiment of temptation, she is pure Joy
her hair raven silk
my Carmel angel
she almost floats to me
recognization upon her face.

my destination stands before me.
stealing my breath away
making my heart jump out of my chest.
coy little smile and we leave.

romantically lit room
seductive caresses
passionate kisses
making love
tasting each-others lips
the curves of her body
the softness of her skin
the perfection that she is before my eyes and in my heart.
weary and tired our bodies joined
we are one.
our climaxes reached in unity

jet lag romance in Russia
beginning of our love story

by

Regretting every single breath

Here further up the mountain slope
Than there was every any hope,
My father built, enclosed a spring,
Strung chains of wall round everything,
Subdued the growth of earth to grass,
And brought our various lives to pass.
A dozen girls and boys we were.
The mountain seemed to like the stir,
And made of us a little while–
With always something in her smile.
Today she wouldn’t know our name.
(No girl’s, of course, has stayed the same.)
The mountain pushed us off her knees.
And now her lap is full of trees.

by

Robert Frost

I have no name:

I am but two days old."

What shall I call thee?

"I happy am,

Joy is my name."

Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!

Sweet joy, but two days old.

Sweet Joy I call thee:

Thou dost smile,

I sing the while;

Sweet joy befall thee!

by

William Blake

The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach,
if the tide was out you’d reach a tiny bay beyond
the cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete
for blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood;
a risky place to contemplate the games we planned,
we walked the sand a dozen times, looked up the cliff
and bragged how we would climb it to the top (it was closer
to the village shop where we could buy the local wine).
A modest cliff, perhaps 100 feet in height, a daunting sight,
waiting there confronting us each day. I’d thought about it late
at night when lights were out, it didn’t seem a challenge worth
a dare, I’d climb it on my own unless a taker mad enough to make
the effort worth a pair was volunteered. My plan was bare, climb it
straight with no descent (just too insane), then stroll the mile that
rambled back and bask in fame of bearing wine. So how could I
decline the madness of the time, a dread impulse that shed all care;
Kate had said along the way let’s climb the cliff the tide’s too high
to safely make the sheltered bay. We’d planned to write our poems
there, a cove which might ignite ideas although I hoped she’d share
a creature comfort moreso than a verse and lift me from my dreams.
That others came and climbed with me had settled schemes of
adult games with nubile Kate, alas a fate I’d learned to take.
But Kate, she never made it to the top, we didn’t stop,
we climbed like ants with frenzied need and never noticed that
she’d fallen by the way. She didn’t die and wasn’t hurt and yet she watched
and wrote a verse that saved her passing grade; it was her anticlimax
and our humiliation, she received the jubilation of our writer’s clique
while we had cuts and scrapes and tender knees to show our deeds,
and in some way I knew she’d never need to try to write again.

by

Ivan Donn Carswell