Musings from a lover lost his love.

Do not call the forest that shelters you a jungle.

So much has happened since last we saw each other
I am not the same boy who used to many a game play with you
Smiling in the wind blind to dangers that seek to grind our bones to dust.

So much has happened since last I held your hand.
Since they sent me off to war where I saw worn men and torn bodies
That inspire stomachs to release their contents.

Where victory tasted much the same as defeat
Yet we ate because if we didn’t eat our bodies will lose the heat
Needed to stay warm and alive in the burning winter.

Many winters we fought through were so cold
They turned bold men to boys wanting to hide beneath beds
Till the coming summer when all would be warmer.

When the summer came and home I went to see you my lover.
I found that much has happened since they sent me of to war
On that day when I last held your hands.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

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to a Chocolate Colored Lady

I dwell in possibility.

Emily Dickinson

Sometimes i like,
to sit in silence
and do absolutely
nothing at all.

Yet at the same time
also doing something.

Thinking of the chocolate colored lady
that strolled into my heart and made it her home.

Time
passes me by like a stranger
i never met and had the anger for
because they never did put me in danger
of becoming an endangered species.

but you! brown-eyed beauty
are an entire species altogether.

for the way you changed my weather
from a winter very moody
to a spring truly happy
was like the hand of a goddess
that moved to caress
the feel of her dress
as it fell down her curves
to attract the eyes of men
like thirsty lions to a water hole.

It was a bad day
i had just been robbed
of all my ignorance

and i had a runny tummy
grumbling coz i had not the money
to spend on some munchies.

When she saw me and flashed
a smile, bright as a flashlight,
gently grabbed my hand tight
and held it light
in her hands as she led the way
to her favorite coffee shop.

Conversation freed our desire for food
yet we ate to compensate for the state
of our minds, that were working overtime
to make us smile and make the moment rhyme
in tune with the next six months of our lives.

The next six months were the best of my life
because although she and i were not married
we loved each other like we were men and wife.

Until she ended it to follow her dreams
of becoming a volunteer
for the UN and left my cheeks
flowing with the bittersweet tears
of hurt and joy.

© 2020 The Poets Peace

Love

When I dare to be powerful – to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.

Audre Lorde

Love is a newspaper publication
That informs the masses of her affection.
You see, she wrote me a most precious article
That said she'll love me, even were i to wrinkle.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Who Likes To See The Sunrise?

Your true success in life begins only when you make the commitment to become excellent at what you do.

Brian Tracy

WHO!

Likes to see the sunrise?


ME!

i like to see the sunrise!
at dawn, spell the demise
of yet another night
by ushering in her light.

ME!

I like to look at the sunrise!

I like to see that first ray
of sunshine make its long way--
from a million light years away
just to bring me, a bright new day.

© 2020 The Poets Peace

Men met me in my many moods

The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.

Vidal Sassoon
Image by 【中文ID】愚木混株 【ins-ID】cdd20 from Pixabay

many men, met me in my merriment.
smiling, with joy that must be heaven sent.
by the Gods themselves--in a good mood--
that made melancholy begin to brood.

when i felt the joy of being in the now.
i felt deep down i wanted to shout out 'Wow!'.
Wow! how good it feels to be in this mood.
that makes me feel i do not need food--

to eat so long as i can feel the heat.
of the suns rays on my ebony skin.
or the warmth in the body of my kin.
who is to me what toes are to the feet.

men, met me in my many states of mind.
they met me when my joy was on a grind.
and they met me in the bleakest of times.
when my happiness could not move his limbs.

some men did meet me in the early morn.
when my thoughts were still a wee-bit forlorn.
because my melancholy mood was just--
now beginning to show some signs of rust.

when i felt almost as black as the night.
i wanted to gobble up the rest of the light.
so that you no longer see what is right.
in front of you even though it is bright!

© 2019 The Poets Peace

I knew I’d Write

Luna

since the day i first picked up a pen.
and had the urge to write some poetry.
i knew I’d write, till i grew to be a man.i wasn’t good, for i was a child then.
that wrote only, in verse that was free.
since the day i first picked up a pen-

that has not yet, rested since the day i began.
as I’ve been working, harder then a buzzing bee.
for i wanted, to be better as i grew to be a man.

i spent, more time in my father’s den.
comparing things to a growing tree.
since the day i first picked up a pen-

i grew older, and began writing for fun.
using the names, of things the eye could see.
so i b’came, good as i grew to be a man.

i now receive, much praise from the village clan.
saying that their eyes, did…

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sonnet #3

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.

Arthur Ashe
For forty years i felt the beating of my heart.
The rhythm of which i compared to a broken drum.
Till in my life you came and made it start to dart.
Like strings from a harp when the bard makes them thrum.

The music it makes, makes me want to sing.
Along to the song that you inspired with your love.
A song fit for the ears of many a queen 'nd king.
As well as the halls of GOD's in the sky above.

For forty years i felt the beating of my heart.
And i knew not whether it would be made to dance.
A merry jig the masses would consider Art.
Or one that would make many want to shift their glance.

For forty years i felt the beating of my heart.
Which before you came, was clearly being torn apart.

© 2020 The Poets Peace