I want to write poems about the poems
That I have already written to release my stress
I remember my first one about the internet night stalker
Whom in his words wrote that I was like dessert rose?
Low maintenance succulent that makes a man like him
Lose sleep over me, in return they became holy
ending all of the sentences with an Amen!
My poems had to make someone think
About love, lust and disgust, to mankind
Especially by the ****** arousal of men
*** is bad for women, those who are
Disgusted by the touch of a man:
Those who were used by A WOMANIZERS
Sometimes these women feel disgusted by ***
Once bitten twice shy
Politics and politicians are about power and glory
Their intention is never about making others happy.
Another ****** moment of being undone!
Nothing but A medium rare steak—
similarity to fake ******:
UNDONE!
One of my best would be to free *****
But allowed my poem to run freely thought-out
The internet, so that my words could reach foreign land
And it works, thousands of viewers read my thoughts,
Some even made comments,
love yourself, then my poems, appreciated them for what they are,
because what this world needs now, is love, sweet love,
not hate, free ***** but let my poem travel.

These days I am loving TikTok more
Then writing my poems, ouch!
My body is not like meat,
Ready to be eaten, without the fear
Of contamination, harsh words indeed
My body my temple, my Floribbean honeydew
But tonight, my room seems crowded
The side chicks, the **'s and there you are.....
John crow I should indeed say:
My poems are messages from me to myself,
I am calmer tonight more than any ocean
The Pacific Ocean have nothing on me,
Even though it’s the most dangerous than any other ocean:
Writing about one's pain can bring out the best in my work
Pain forces you to go on a journey of self-discovery (quote)
I forget my true self when I am in love: whom am I really?
I am a ***** with a switch,
A past that was never attractive, only my illusions.
I thought that you were my king of my castle
Tomorrow I shall be sober, from the wine
I didn’t drink, then I will make some adult decision.

*** the controller
They heard us outside the bedroom window
Breathing, Moaning, Panting, Grunting and Screaming
in the calm of the night, calling name of the Gods
While the salty sweat drips from our bodies,
Under the Caribbean heat waves, many moons ago
what a summer to remember
But some confusion for the nightly crickets' melodies
Who thought that their sound was the loudest?
They were trying to tell me something with
their loud bark, danger, danger, danger, danger, danger, danger,
Little did I know what it meant,
It took me years to interpret the meaning of a dog bark
But with a poem, I can now relate with poetic words
Their bark was meant for me, myself and I

A little guest house near Oisten, the ocean breezes five minutes away
And at the time, deep withing I thought that I was in love,
With love, or a dream, which became my futuristic mishap
When I forgot to love me, myself and I
The spirit of a dead lover, wants to control me

All *** is about energy, and sound brings energy."—Barbara Carrella

And the bark of a dog pitch can foretell one future,
Too late, but now I know....

We seek wakefulness,
What is Barbados to me?
Hot sun, and Broad Rim hats and old khaki pants?
Robust men with warm undertone skin,
That blends with the cultivated land.
We seek constant reassurance from the one we love
That they will be there for us in good times
Or bad times, just to feel good about ourselves.
What is America to me,
I mean so much to me,
A place where I was able to educated my offspring,
While I work from sunrise, to sundown
Under pressure, under humiliation however,
Every sunrise holds more promise, and every sunset hold more peace. – Anonymous.
We seek solutions for all the hateful people,
We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking that created them.
”
We can’t sit back and do nothing
Or wonder when the race hate will be over,
I think the Putin's war in Ukraine going after the wrong people:
We seek justice, for hate crimes
What Jamaica to me?
The place of rhythm of swing and slay
Where someone can fall in love today
And deceive you the next day:
We seek answers, but only God know
That his creation is out of control:
We seek peace and peace comes with love
Where there is no love, in one's heart
There will be no peace.
We all know about a little wisdom
But did we put it to the test
God opens millions of flowers every day without forcing their buds
Food for thoughts my poetic friend.
Be vigilant, be wise, never trust anyone.

His favored ones, whose backs bend o’er the soil,
He blessed the hands of the ones who look after
His animals, with loving care, with sweet voices,
So gentle so caring, then, he blessed his children
In everything they do. And that is you, my Johnny
Tears, praise, love, joy, enwoven in your chest
As I watch you make adjustments, like the river of life
However, Johnny where there are no Roses
There is no hope of predicting, the love of a side chick(😊
With lots of bedroom tricks, more than professional decorator:
My wonderful brave robustly man of the soil,
I love your smile, your pouty lips,
And the way in which you announce my name,
Your gift from God is supreme,
as well as my futuristic dreams
Brave one of the Caribbean soils,
It was a wonderful thing you done
That night as you stay up late and spoke
Hello to me!

My Wednesday Ranting .. Therapy
In deep darkness on a cold night
I listen to his heavy breathing,
He seemed like a tired person last night
Today, I am tired of broken love,
Tired of not being able to fully trust
This thing called love,
Love is supposed to be kind,
Love is supposed to be patient
He wants to cuddle, I just want to sleep
I never know when a poem will come to me
Throughout the simplest ordeal.
I love his smile; I love the feel of
his prickly unshaven ****** hair against my cheeks
As I write, I create myself again and again---Joy Harjo--
As I write, I remember bad times, bad things,
Of infidelity, --- Annie Lander
It wasn’t cheating, it was the image of my thing
Doing things to others, making them scream!!!
My wicked unsettled mind keeps asking me questions
That I cannot answer, however, I had asked God
To protect me and my sanity.
Let my fears compose a poem
And allowed me to understand, why the most painful thing
On earth is to love a man?
“Sometimes, giving all of your love isn't much so save a good soul, it demands soul for a soul as fair payment.”
― Gurusharan Singhs

A little nod to
Walter Everette Hawkins
Ask me why I love you, dear,
And I would ask the sparrow
If it matters! That he ..he stutters
Love is a forbidden nectar,
And so we are like flowers; and bloom only, when the sun, kisses us.”
― sir kristian goldmund aumann,

Don’t ask me if I still love you
I wouldn’t ask you my heartbeat,
If being downright violated isn't too much for me
Ask me why I love you, one more time
And I will ask the debt collectors for more time
Or I will ask my brain, not to confuse me
mind, body, soul and spirit (my Trivedi effects)
Then it wouldn’t be any need for us to get upset
If I get the right answers
I will smile with you again,
Ask me why I can't trust my heart with you
Let the other one reply.
She knows you better than I do,
When the **** hits the fan
Where the heart is pure
And if we can’t find the answers
We shall depart
only the inner voice gives me freedom