When my heart returns in the seclusion,

I told him to give me ten years,

In that time, he must see only me

Taste only me, make love to only me

Reflected only in my space.

Like an enchanted mirror or hope,

Our souls will continue to asked

For our morning blessing/

Happy or sad, our morning salutations/

There is nothing more appealing  

Then seeing him in his white attires

a baseball cap, it captures the youth of innocent,  

Is the fundament of falling in love,  

After being in seclusion, it's also terrifying,  

A roller coaster of emotion,  

a mere Smily hideous gestures/

I can see no wrong now,

I can see no flaws,  

I see only what my heart wants me to see

Him, those eyes, those high cheek bones,

While I let me let my soul make love,

Under the warm of the sun,

And the cold from the north,

Entwining into each other’s arms

Who will bless this union?

Who will be there for us,

When it all fade like leaf

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

Let me love you for now,

Let me smile, while you smile,

Let me , let me, let me..

There was earth inside them, and
they dug.

They dug and they dug, so their day
went by for them, their night. And they did not praise
          God
who, so they heard, wanted all this,
who, so they heard, knew all this.

They dug and heard nothing more;
they did not grow wise, invented no song,
thought up for themselves no language,
They dug.

There came a stillness, and there came a storm,
and all the oceans came.
I dig, you dig, and the worm digs too,
and that singing out there says: They dig.

O one, o none, o no one, o you:
Where did the way lead when it led nowhere?
O you dig and I dig, and I dig towards you,
and on our finger the ring awakes.

by Paul Celan, translated by Michael Hamburger

Speak, you also,
speak as the last,
have your say.

Speak -
But keep yes and no unsplit,
And give your say this meaning:
give it the shade.

Give it shade enough,
give it as much
as you know has been dealt out between
midday and midday and midnight,

Look around:
look how it all leaps alive -
where death is! Alive!
He speaks truly who speaks the shade.

But now shrinks the place where you stand:
Where now, stripped by shade, will you go?
Upward. ***** your way up.
Thinner you grow, less knowable, finer.
Finer: a thread by which
it wants to be lowered, the star:
to float further down, down below
where it sees itself glitter:
on sand dunes of wandering words.

by Paul Celan, translated by Michael Hamburger

Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;

Great lines, something to think about (Edward Thomas)

Woke up to the rain and the wind beating on my window pane,

Yet I thought of getting dressed and going there.



A subway system, so far not yet up to standards,

A job like mine, no one need to hurry too

A mindset like mine, meant for me to lay low

during the northeaster...rain and wind

Poor yet full of pride, I am the servant Queen,



Yesterday, I struggle to maintain my sanity

Due to working conditions: at the workplace

I have been feuding for years. Nothing changes

not even an added penny, before its death,



More work, more stress, no respect  

Night supervisors, penciling  

or rather maneuvering into the darkness

at six am. A street crowded with overturn bins,

Flooded streets, with mudded running water

Mother of Nature, another dangerous disaster?

You meaner than corvid and Alaska,



I am the servant Queen, poor, yet full of pride:

I am fed up with others trying to take me for a ride

Sometimes, you just need a break from a bad situation

Never, berate yourself for giving expression to your emotions.

Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;(Edward Thomas) line

I planned to stick, to my believes, nothing will change,

I will always be the servant Queen, as longs as them reign:

I have remembered you.
I remember, how we  
Spoke of never being separated  
Living together until eternity,
When we were young, we saw things  
In a different light, brighter than most people...
Some might have label, us as Thelma and Louise:
You were kind, you were adventurous, and most of all
You had a heart, but I knew you weren't a lady.
But I respected you back then. (I am puzzle by you now)

The Gambler,” you have to “know when to fold 'em.
Thank you, Kenny Rogers. And I just did it. I walked away
However, I was her best friend, imagine the treatment that she
Done to her sister, was humane,
Leaving her scar for life. (Leaving her wondering Why?)
My kind, adventurous friend: (my Thelma)

The last time I saw her, I didn’t even recognize her
Until, I pulled her sister aside and asked who she was?
Our mind has a protection emotional warning, (at least with mind)
It wouldn’t allowed me to connect her ****** memories:
her ill treatment, toward me, were uncalled for. (Mental abuse)
These days I pour my heart into my writing
Her sister, pours her pain into her cooking,
And as the saying goes practice makes perfect.
She is so good at it. Our way of getting our therapy
Without flattening our wallets. Even breaking the bank
Forgiveness must be earned. But whom or what will
Make the pain of betrayal go away

Psalm 55:12–14
12  For it is not an enemy who taunts me—
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me—
then I could hide from him.
13  But it is you, a man, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
14  We used to take sweet counsel together;
within God’s house we walked in the throng.

In fear of it
We don't want
To hear of it.

Sweet memory, like a lobster tail
Dip in   Blove smackalicious sauce  
dripping hot, with stings of green onions
Mouthwatering, finger licking, and yes
Fattening for one thighs,
That yummy feeling of so good,  
so, hot, so hot, so delicious:
My guilty pleasure, my greasy late-night foods
When the memory of unpleasant moments
Creep up on me....so that is when I focus on my lobster tail:
I let in the past so often, I think
A poet, his past, his future, his demons like a
drunkard who never remembers his yesterdays  
A phrase my mother seldom uses to control to my father,
After a long weekend of *****
it’s so true sometimes I cannot
stop myself from going back to my past
In order to make a connection with my future
Oh, the things we do for love,
Oh, the things we have to endure,  
In hope of receiving love:
Such cold thought, such headaches.
Life without Love is as a flower without fragrance.
Richard B. Garnett