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Elizabeth
Santos
N.G.
"Gary" Stapp
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Editor's
Pick:
TOO LATE
I didn't know I loved you
Until you went away.
I didn't much think of you
Up to that final day.
The music that was you
I only noticed when it stopped.
I didn't take the time to
Tell you that I cared a lot.
My love of life went with you
Too late for me to say
I didn't know how much I loved you
Until the day you went away.
--
Submitted by Kenneth Hoffman
from Morristown, NJ
e-mail: kchoffman1@juno.com
Editor's
Pick:
A TWILIGHT SONG
My loss of you will be a minor thing,
unnoticing, the seasons yet will flow
continue waltzing proud with beauty
through the myriad months they know.
And still will seeds long since been sown,
give birth to buds of billowing spring
for your death remains unknown
to the waking sun and the April rain.
Your quiet passing will go unobserved
by the boisterous birds and bees of May,
and so will wide-eyed infant squirrels
clamber around through our backyard tree.
June will not cease, nor will July,
blithely unaware you don't exist.
Ambered autumn bows to winter's bride
as if nothing significant is amiss.
Oh, there will perish with your passing
little of beauty that is not your own,
only the grace of common flowers,
only the lilt of morning's song.
--
Submitted by Brenda Bruner
from Webb City, MO
e-mail: rbruner@janics.com
Editor's
Pick:
What
do I do, now I've reached the edge?
The cliff is steep to the plain below.
Miles upon miles of emptry air
And no hand will I hold, but your hand
and you are not there!
What
do I do when smothering black
Of night engulfs me ... coldly dark
So dark I tingle with sudden fear
No arms do I need but your arms
And you are not there!
What
do I do with a life that tells
the end of the world in a darkened mist
But still must keep senselessly on
No love keeps my heart, but your love
And you ... you are gone!
--
Submitted by Charmian Blatter of Philo,
CA
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THE
FLAME
I'm
standing in front of the silent grave,
looking at your name, carved in the stone.
A cold wind is swinging branches of pines
in the dark graveyard without any light.
Obscure clouds are overcastting the skies,
restraining their sadness over this
sight.
Beside
me, there's a candle on the grave.
Its flame is floating over the gray stone,
making mystic shapes, filling me with fears,
flying as far as it can, hurrying on its way,
leaving me lost and afraid, alone in tears
like every shiny light you've taken
away.
The
snowflakes are falling over the grave.
Your name is disappearing from the stone.
The fragile flame doesn't shine anymore.
The last light of my life has abandoned me,
following you up to the Heaven's shore
to swim with you in the Paradise sea.
--
Submitted by Bojan Prosenjak from Koprivnica,
Croatia
e-mail: prosenjak@hotmail.com
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WHITE
OF COTTON
Oh,
the white of cotton sheets, the perfect edge, the
perfect pleats
The dreary walls, the lonely halls, the soft
excruciating calls
I
always gladly stood by you through every test they
put you through
The chemicals, the painful nights, the nightmare
dreams and stinging bites
But
when I saw you lying there so thin and weak, no
voice, no hair
Your chest, your head, your thinning back were left
in radiation black
My
eyes were not prepared to view this dying man, this
other you
Who lived with me beneath blue sky, and now a man
too weak to cry
And
oh, the white of cotton sheets, the tubes and
needles, rhythmic beats
Metallic bed, metallic sound, a skimpy robe they
tied around
My
heart was not prepared to see you tugging chains to
set you free
And oh, how much your eyes beseech a nurse's button
out of reach
Never
had I seen on earth discomfort's torture on a
berth
With sheets of alabaster white, with ends and
corners tucked in tight
Your rose was but a thorny bush, a button there too
weak to push
And
all your pain I took as mine, til morphine's
regulation time
A bowl of soup you could not eat, disturbing words
you could not speak
A
skeleton between the threads of sheets of white on
metal beds
And every player played his part, but no one had
prepared my heart
--
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos
from
Pottstown, PA
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
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I
DIED A DEATH
I
died a death but stayed alive
In phantom's likeness I survive
Alive, yet dead, I walk alone
In rooms with walls as cold as stone
I
lived a life and dreamed a dream
And loved the life you lived with me
Then in the whisper of a breath
You left, and then I died a death
Though
dead I live, I cannot part
From love that lives within my heart
Within my sorrow I must strive
To keep my hope and faith alive
For
all the love that I would give
I surely would prefer to live
To be content, not to survive
But feel my spirit come alive
You
slowly took your final breath
'Twas me, my dear, who died a death
--
Submitted by Elizabeth Santos
from
Pottstown, PA
e-mail: mesantos1@comcast.net
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MENDING
HEARTS
Among
the brambles of a shattered heart
Among the shambles of life torn apart
When love or friendship turns to hate
When words are spoken to berate
To pick up the pieces seems a chore
But must be done to grieve no more.
Among
the puzzles of the reasons why
Among the thistles that cause pain to cry
When moving on is the only goal
To open the door to another soul
Walking in limbo for a while
But lighting candles with a smile.
Among
the confusion of forest and trees
Among the conclusion of answers that please
When peace is restored from lackluster
When courage and spirit are easy to muster
To encounter the new and inclusive
To get rid of the old and abusive.
Slowly
the hurt will be completely erased
With a better relationship the ego
replaced.
©
Floriana Hall - July 2002
--
Submitted by Floriana Hall from Akron, Ohio
e-mail: Floriana102@aol.com
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A
TEARDROP ON THE ROSE
A
teardrop fell upon the rose
That she held close to her breast.
In sympathy, the petals closed,
As she saw her love at rest.
The
rose it seemed to feel her pain
As one by one her petals fell
And upon the stem of thorns,
Now fell the pouring rain.
Bending
down, she picked the petals
And to herself, she drew them near;
She saw, in the rose, her broken heart
And on the petal, her fallen tear.
Between
the pages of a book,
She placed the petals tenderly
And the rose, it shed a tear,
As if it cried in sympathy.
The
words, on the pages read,
Forever, my love, remember me
And when you see a rose of red,
Remember, love, to remember me.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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THE
BROKEN BRANCH
Backwards
let my life rewind
Until my life is here no more.
No memory left that I had lived
Or ever entered this life's door.
Erase
the words in poetry written
And the ones in life were spoken;
Release me now and I'll return
To nothingness and be forgotten.
A
tiny seed that Christ pre-knew
And sent me here to be a tree
But I am barren and bare no fruit;
This broken branch I know as me.
Off
the ground, please raise my limb
And gently secure it to the vine;
Remove the clouds that shadow me
And let the sun on me to shine.
The
cry of Job, is what I pray?
That I return back to the womb?
To be remembered never more
Or visited within my tomb?
Nay,
this cannot be, the words I say,
Or the things of which I pray.
For life is precious and so am I
As well as words I so deny.
Within
my writes, reveals my soul,
that let's you see the barren tree.
A tiny blossom, I see appear:
Just a bud, I see in me
And this write upon a scroll.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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A
VOID
What
can fill that empty space
That seems a hollow pit.
When something there is missing
And nothing seems to fit.
How
do you fill the emptiness
And satisfy the inner hunger;
When all in life has left you starved
But no where's found the answer.
Outside
yourself, you start to look
But still there stands the void.
The little things you used to love,
No longer seen enjoyed.
Don't
talk to me of Jesus,
For I'm his and he is mine,
but even though I know him;
I'm still not feeling fine.
Tomorrow,
I'll go searching,
And tell you what I find
But if my search should prove in vain;
It will have satisfied my mind.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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ONE
LAST TIME
Paint
me a pretty rainbow and color it with reds;
Bring to me a dream to spin with golden gilded
threads
And sing to me a song that lifts and puts on me a
smile
And when you're walking through my mind, stay in
there awhile.
Place
upon my lips a soft blown kiss and if you'll be so
kind;
Leave behind a memory to impress upon my mind.
Slowly back away from me when walking out the
door
And tell to me once more, what you're leaving
for.
Plant
a rose of deepest pink to grow outside my
window
And after removing the thorns; a cutting upon my
pillow.
Make the moon again to shine and the stars to
twinkle;
Whisper to me a word of love that brings my eyes to
sparkle.
Come
with me and dance once more; a slow romantic
waltz,
And paint again a rainbow bright before reality
assaults.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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TRUTH
HURTS
Why
didn't they care for me.......?????
My inside they never did see,
My heart cries......my body is sore,
Paralyzing me to the innermost core,
The anger inside me can take no more.
The frustration, the misery and pain,
Driving me crazy...turning me insane,
Escaping away, do I have what it needs??
And finally I accept the things the way the
are,
trying to live, trying to bear.....!!!
--
Submitted by Pratiksha Sadh from India
e-mail: prat_sadh@hotmail.com
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VALLEY
OF TEARS
Few
there are to walk beside you
Through the valley of tears and sorrow.
More the times, you walk alone,
Than the times that they befriend.
Lonely
is the journey there
And dark the jagged painful path.
Your tears they flow upon the stones
That rip away the bloodied flesh.
The
light ahead, it slowly dims
As deeper down the path sojourns.
To hold a hand along the way
Might keep the feet upright that
stumble.
Alone
you see this path that ends;
Beyond the valley, a light, it glows
With angel guiding as you walk;
Last mile of life not walked alone.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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I
want no more of you!
Leave me be!
Why are you doing this?
Must you torture me?
Do you like teasing me?
You play with my hair and
move close enough so I think you might
kiss me...
hold me..
touch me...
Stop!
Enough!
Leave me be and
get out of my head!
--
Submitted by Christopher Thomas Malone from
Lindenhurst, NY
e-mail:
KermitTheFrogman@worldnet.att.net
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I'm
movable when the band plays
Able to touch and be felt
I can weep when the movie ends
And stand proud
But
alone in the shower
Solaced only in the park
Alone, at the market
Is when I fall.
This
needle is dry
in my day to day
Forced to face many faces
Backgrounds; against my bed
I'd
like to be more myself
To wager my needs in the real world
but I am wounded
Having done so before.
Just
me
hollow and stained
remembering
When someone chose to honor me.
--
Submitted by Christian Wooding from Lindenwold,
NJ
e-mail: wood@pquinn.com
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FATHER'S
DAY CARD
One
by one, I'd read the verse
And place it again inside the rack.
There must be one that I could buy
For a dad whose love was out of whack.
I'd
stand and read each pretty card
But none it seemed pertained to me.
For the father that was pictured there
Was one that I would never see.
I
longed for a dad like other's had
With memories like inside the card
But to buy a card that said those things
Would be a farce and much too hard.
One
by one, I'd shuffle through
Until I'd find the perfect one.
It simply said that I love you;
Words you can't hear inside your coffin.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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One
of these days
you'll look back to see...
that I was always there
but you were never there for me.
One
of these days
your heart will start to ache...
then you'll realize
there was a risk you needed to take.
One
of these days
you'll look around for me...
I will be gone
but I am yours eternally.
One
of these days
the thought will be too much to bear...
just say you love me
and I'll be there.
--
Submitted by Christopher Malone from Lindenhurst,
New York
e-mail:
KermitTheFrogman@worldnet.att.net
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FLAWLESS
IMPERFECTIONS
You
see yourself in the pouring rain,
No one to pull you out of the storm
I'd go but you'll only keep me there
So I can feel your strain.
I
did nothing to earn your cold shoulder
But I receive it none-the-less
Lead me on for it's only darkness
That I can see.
--
Submitted by Hollie Engdahl from Omaha, NE
e-mail: Flygirl19he@hotmail.com
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The
unstable legs I walk with,
are giving in again,
and the doubts that have surrounded me,
are finding their way in.
I
needed to be helped,
not giving help to you,
rains of trouble,
I once was like you.
--
Submitted by Jordan from Katy, Texas
e-mail: darkwatertavern@aol.com
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WEEPING
OF A STONE
In
a lonely graveyard plot,
Where the lost and lonely go;
I saw the weeping of a stone
Upon the ground, I saw them flow.
The
words embedded deep in slate;
The cause of death, a broken heart.
I saw no flowers, his stone adorn,
But there embedded, I saw the thorn.
Buried
deep, it seemed to pierce,
For flowing down were bitter tears.
Within my heart, emotions fierce,
As they broke my own veneers.
Pouring
down was my own pain
Upon the stone of past gone years
Where the pain, I saw remain.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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Lie
with me beneath the weeping willow
And let me drink the nectar from your lips.
May my sighs be heard across the meadow
As I enjoy your roaming fingertips.
With
your body close to mine, my darling,
Let us make love beneath the silver moon.
Can you feel my longing heart that's aching
For your embrace that used to make me
swoon.
I
hear the cries coming from the willow
As alone I lie beneath its branches.
Alone it joins in my tears of sorrow
As it sees my love turn into ashes.
Upon
a bed that's made of earthly green
It mourns with me the passion now
unseen.
--
Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North
Carolina
e-mail: sara689@yahoo.com
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