~WHISPERS FROM THE PEN~ A...

I throw my hands up in the air and cry with everyone around: "What can I do?"
The streets are covered with garbage.
Beggars sleep in every available corner.
Policemen are corrupt, they kill without due process.
Schools are failing our children, men are without jobs.
Women are raped and beaten. Young girls are preyed upon.
Drivers wreak havoc on our roads, slaughter our people.
Drugs poison minds and money is the new God.
Aids destroys the dreams of young and old.
Those in charge, in power over us, don't care.
Children are fatherless and motherless and run amok.
Jamaica is sick and dying of indifference.
"What can I do?" I cry and throw my hands up in the air.

I can do plenty.
I can use my hands to work, to give, to soothe.
I can use my hands to pick up garbage.
I can smile and use my voice to give encouraging words to those who suffer.
I can share my wealth, my knowledge and my optimism.
I can stand up to evil by creating good in my small circle.
I can refuse to be intimidated.
I can refuse to be taken advantage of.
I can refuse to give up hope.
I can care.
I must not throw my hands up in the air and cry, "What can I do?"
I must do my best to right the wrongs.
I must do all I can.

(This is a poem written about conditions in Jamaica where I live, but much of it applies universally -- sadly.)

I want him
My love
He is waiting around the next bend
I haven’t met him yet, but
I want him
We will dance, sing
In the light of new love
I want him
Touch me, hold me
I want him
Make love to me
He wants me too
I want him
In the starlight
In the daylight
I want him
When he comes
There will be magic
I want him
Close my eyes I see him
Close my eyes I feel him
I want him
My heart and soul calls him
He will answer one day
I want him

Thoughts of you flood my soul with sadness
I should be celebrating your birth
Yet all I can do is see your death
Trying to capture the days before you became you
But they are clouded with the sight of you
Lying so still upon your bed, cold, lifeless
How do I celebrate your birth if all I see is your death?

The pains of your birth are over powdered with the pains of your death
The first sight of you will be forever intertwined with the last sight of you
The sound of your first breath are now replaced with the thought of your last breath
There must be a way to replace the last sight of you
Replace them with happy memories I must
But on this day I can not for I saw you come to life and
I saw you gone from life
Thoughts of you flood my soul with sadness
How do I celebrate your birth if all I see is your Death?

To have shaped and molded you best way I knew how
Only to see my efforts were not enough
To have loved and protected you,
Only to know my love did not protect you from you
Thoughts of you flood my soul with sadness
How do I celebrate your birth if all I see is your Death?

To have had hopes and dreams for your future
To know that they were not fulfilled
Knowing that you will never have another dream
That dreaming is for the living and
For you it’s a definite end to dreams
Thoughts of you flood my soul with sadness
How do I celebrate your birth if all I see is your Death

To sit hear looking at the many pictures of you
To know I will never be able to take another,
To see the last photo of you and
Wishing I had taken more
To shed tears, to cry out loud
For the thought of you flood my soul with sadness
How do I celebrate your birth when all I see is your Death?

Should I pass, from Earth to Heaven. which star would you wish upon? I am the one that seems the dimmest, for from my Love, I am gone. but do not weep, I am still there, waiting for you, 'til you get there. and then the Universe is ours, with lots of time Forever, not hours.

Looking for that special touch
that will bring my soul to life.

The tender touch that slowly
starts the flame of passion
and desire once again.
An all consuming power of love
wrapping me in it's web forever.

Looking for the magic of first love
once again.
First touch, first kiss and the first
time two are joined as one.

Maybe my next life I will stop looking

I am discovering new things and very nervous about joining cyber-space groups. I write -- mostly poetry and plays. The title of this group is what drew me to it. Poetry is whispering -- most people shut their ears to it.

Scatter the ashes of what used to
be and let the wind carry them
away to beyond tomorrow and into
forever.

Close the heart to words of love
that has grown cold they have
no substance any longer.
The bond that was is no longer
for it has become weakened by
silence.

Carry the memories but deep inside
not close enough to the heart
that it will cause it pain once again.
Learn from broken vows and broken
dreams.
Become stronger not weaker. 

You have cried enough now so it's time
to accept what fate has placed
upon you and move on into a happier
place not living in the darkness where
your only companion were teardrops falling
down your cheeks.

You tried to keep the spark alive but
it takes two to fan the flames.
There's no use to trying to hang on to
what is no more.
It's time to bid farewell to the past and
get on with life.

Love will live again and it will be a love
that you can trust and believe in.
It will happen if you will let yourself heal.

too much of me, and she's ready to sream. not enough, I do the same. so what to do, I have to ask ? perhaps some chores? or make Love at Last ? I know she feels the same as I, so we'll keep each other, forget, and try.

The most interesting deliverymen to watch were the short, dark, silent men pushing open carts with metal wheels, loaded with three hundred pound cakes of ice. The cakes were a foot wide, a foot high and six feet long and they were covered with quilts and burlap sacks to slow the melting. It took guys the size of Abe Simon, who got knocked out twice in twelve months by Joe Louis, to move them around the ice-houses and load them onto the pushcarts.

To read the balance, please go to Reply 1

In my life there has been bridges that I have had to crossed

The bridge of Stepping Back

The bridge of Standing Still

The bridge of Stepping Forward

I have questioned the bridge of Stepping Back is it safer

I have questioned the bridge of Standing Still is it wise

I have questioned the bridge of Stepping Forward is it worthwhile

Each bridge has brought me Sadness, Happiness, Fear, and Lost

Stopping along the way people have asked me have I learned

I have learned that each bridge is a reflection of life

I have learned that each bridge is not traveled alone

I have learned that each bridge is full of experiences

I have learned that each bridge is full of hopes and dreams

I have learned that you do not cross these bridges of life once

In my life, there will always be bridges to cross, so cross them I will