Poem: Answers in Decisions


Through trials we face pains,
Yet we Live,
Live with the burdens of the weight of the world,
Watching it all as it unfolds,
In parables,
That tells the truth of this thing called Life,
So that no one can hide behind the ignorance of a lie,
Told by the old and unwise,
Which is precisely why they are confined to a cell of bitterness,
Padded in Deceit,
With a foul smell of honor that is lacking,
The words of their integrity have no backing,
Exposing their backs to every draft,
Allowing it to carry them away with any gust of wind,
Without even a common courtesy,
Yet you expect me to believe that you supported the work,
But when the Sun heated the earth surface,
You tanned in the flames,
Because you knew there was ice in your veins,
That permeated from the lesson on character that you failed,
Our Savior perished for our selfishness as he was nailed,
To the same cross, you and I believe,
You and I are the descendants of Adam and Eve,
But you can be called Cain,
Because the blood you spilled is calling out from the ground,
I pray that your desire to become a leader is found,
But if not,
Don’t let your pride and ego, eat away at you,
I would rather you,
Find the error in your heart,
And study for the correct answer,
Because the one you chose,
Just suppose it’s Wrong!

©Copyright by Wordplay


Poem: Moonlight

(I do not own or have rights of this photo)

Quiet touches in the dark,
As fingertips generate energy,
Causing power to flow back and forth,
In a symmetrical pattern,
Where the center always spins on an axis,
Causing the tides to rise from low to high,
Where the currents can be calm and rough,
But the motion always remains consistent,
Aggressively persistent,
In making sure the waters reach the bare shore,
To wash away the remnants of the day,
And the cool waters can flow in between our toes,
As we walk along the sand,
And I can see the moon’s reflection in your eyes,
Revealing the path of my destiny,
But most importance is that you are next to me!


(c) Copyright by Wordplay

Poem: Awaken

When Love can bring out your primal instincts,
Focus on the touch that makes you roar,
Listen for the sounds you’ve never heard before,
Take a deep breath and smell only its aroma,
Keep a trained eye on the movement of your prey,
Savor the flavor as the taste awakens the beast in you!

Poem: Some Ah’ Her


I’ve heard the term loose lips sink ships,
But what about tender lips,
That seems to bloom like the tulips in the spring,
Causing a down pour of showers,
That only seem to rain where the air is moist,
And the pressure builds,
Past a point of insertion,
But one thing that is certain,
Is that lips loosen the joints, that control the arms,
As I pull you closer,
Keeping you warm with just the heat of my breath,
As our fantasies melted,
And begin to ooze into the crevices,
Causing our worlds to connect,
In ways that only seem to contradict,
what you have always thought passion to be,
that is until you tasted the syllables that make up season,
and if for any reason, you lose its flavor,
just wait until the fall, that bends at the knee,
and I will show you why I would trade in the summer,
just for Sum’ ah her!

©Copyright by Wordplay

Poem: Piercing a Yolk


Blood boiling with a heat that only my veins can feel,
Because the world has decided to turn on a flame,
That only burns at the tenderness of my flesh,
Filling the air with a stench that only I can smell,
Leaving only me to feel the pain as my skin deteriorates,
And begin to fall to the earth,
Where it’s to be covered by the dirt,
And never expected to get dirty,
With every attempt to wash my wounds,
I am consumed with the pain of my exposed bones,
That have now become brittle under the morning sun,
Breaking at the joints that try to hold it together,
Causing support to lapse in the face of judgment,
Because my heart was placed on trial,
with no jury,
Leaving the only choice for me is guilty,
But rather let the system put me to death,
I begin to shoot life into my veins,
Attempting to numb the pain,
But my life has been laced with a poison that only intends to infect me,
So I let the needle slide past the ashes on my skin,
Piercing it, and allowing my blood to mix with poison,
Right before the plunger is pushed and the toxins are released into my bloodstream,
Causing a fire to spread from my arm to my entire body,
Buy Rather than wither in the fire,
I embrace the making of a Phoenix,
Because out of the ashes I will rise to soar above the clouds,
Only to be pushed to the earth by the gravity of reality,
Where it keeps me grounded at the stake,
Unable to go past the limitations of the leash’s reach,
Yoked back with every lunge of progress!

(c) Copyright by Wordplay

Poem: Touched with Her Broken Fingers


Her mind wondered in curiosity, once she discovered it was there,
She was never to reveal it for another to stare,
She was taught to cross her legs, when sitting in a chair,
She was taught about under garments, that she should always have on a pair,
She was taught to never kiss boys even it was a dare,
She was educated to be blind, by the overly religious glare,
She was mesmerized when it began to develop a growth of hair,
She was taught it’s only used for breeding purposes, like a heated mare,
She was scolded if she was discovered in her room bare,
She was taught never to explore, because forgiveness would be very rare,
So for most of her adolescence she was forced to wear,
——- a veil of secrecy and guilt, until it was necessary to remove it to wash away its grime,
It’s only then that she realized the solid lies, were vaporized into an icy confusion that was sublime,
She began to find her self-esteem in a numeric scale of being called a Ten or a dime,
She never had that talk, and does not know why her excitement produces a silky slime,
She cringes with a sour expression at the talk of it, like she bit a tart lime,
Her immaturity only allows the boys disguised as men, to touch her with no words like a mime,
She allows them to write chapters of her life, with grammatical erred love through rhyme,
She was told never to touch it unless it was to be cleansed at bath time,
She never experienced, even with penetration that bedroom walls were meant to climb,
Her ears got so used to hearing the clanging of her legs like a wind chime,
That she didn’t realize she was robbed by so many,
for many,
years of her life and never reported it as a crime,
—– Because she didn’t know what pleasure, was meant to feel like,
So she was easily lured onto a mountain trail with no bike,
Easily confused of whether she wants a man or that understanding dyke,
She bowls with her emotions, and wonders why the gutter never produces a strike,
She settles for a love where the value is less than a pair of Nikes’,
—– But she can’t Just Do it herself, because she can’t touch herself with broken fingers

© Copyright by Wordplay

Poem: Acid Rain

(Trees in forest affected by Acid Rain)

Tears that burned like acid,
As they ran down the cheek of a wounded soul,
That was left in a desert valley,
Where there was no water,
other than the dew on the morning leaves,
And it was not enough to quench the thirst that was dying,
So the soul began to succumb to the scars left by the tears,
As they fell towards the parched earth,
they vaporized into the air,
before they could be absorbed by the brittle soil,
But a soul is diligent in its quest for peace,
And those tears began to brand an insignia on the heart,
In the form of hope,
Allowing the soul to heal from the burning,
And the acid became balanced,
In between two columns, that supported the seasons,
Leaving no answers, but many reasons,
Of Why the rains never reached the valley floor,
So the soul wanders along the dried up brook,
Because the ravens don’t visit anymore,
And their chirps have been silenced by the winds,
That pushed the soul out of the valley, to the forest edge,
Where the path through the trees,
Was as obvious as a ladybug in a field of red lilies!

(c) Copyright by Wordplay