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Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to
And love leaves exactly when love must

When love arrives say,

“Welcome, make yourself comfortable”

If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her

Turn off the music, listen to the quiet

Whisper,

“Thank you for stopping by”

 

That  was a quote from one of my fave poem, “When Love Arrives” by Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye. It’s about what, when, who, why and how love grew. How we perceived love when we were in junior high school, while we were becoming, adulthood, marriage, even divorce, and when we grew old. Love comes and goes.

I might not remember my first crush face, but the feeling vaguely remain.

I surely remember my first broken heartache, how I cried for days, screaming how unfair life was

I remember my first love; at first sight in the afternoon I fall. Hard. And kept falling.

In my eyes he was a perfection.

The giddiness. The butterfly. The nervousness.

His smile. His laughter. Him

-mylunar 02.05.16-

 

 

 

 

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Spoken Word Poetry

Lately I’ve been listening poetry reading. And one of the poem struck me straight into my soul. It’s not only the powerful message the poem was written, but also the magnificent performance by the poet. Her voice was strong. Perfect pitch. Perfect tone. Simply perfect.

Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls with Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair
By Jeanann Verlee

When your mother hits you, do not strike back.
When the boys call asking your cup size, say A, hang up.
When he says you gave him blue balls, say you’re welcome.
When a girl with thick black curls who smells like bubble gum stops you in a stairwell to ask if you’re a boy, explain that you keep your hair short so she won’t have anything to grab when you head-butt her.
Then head-butt her.
When a guidance counselor teases you for handed-down jeans, do not turn red.
When you have sex for the second time and there is no condom, do not convince yourself that screwing between layers of underwear will soak up the semen.
When your geometry teacher posts a banner reading: “Learn math or go home and learn how to be a Momma,” do not take your first feminist stand by leaving the classroom.
When the boy you have a crush on is sent to detention, go home.
When your mother hits you, do not strike back.
When the boy with the blue mohawk swallows your heart and opens his wrists, hide the knives, bleach the bathtub, pour out the vodka. Every time.
When the skinhead girls jump you in a bathroom stall, swing, curse, kick, do not turn red.
When a boy you think you love delivers the first black eye, use a screw driver, a beer bottle, your two good hands.
When your father locks the door, break the window.
When a college professor writes you poetry and whispers about your tight little ass, do not take it as a compliment, do not wait, call the Dean, call his wife.
When a boy with good manners and a thirst for Budweiser proposes, say no.
When your mother hits you, do not strike back.
When the boys tell you how good you smell, do not doubt them, do not turn red.
When your brother tells you he is gay, pretend you already know.
When the girl on the subway curses you because your T-shirt reads: “I fucked your boyfriend,” assure her that it is not true.
When your dog pees the rug, kiss her, apologize for being late.
When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Jersey City, do not move.
When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Harlem, do not move.
When he refuses to stay the night because your air conditioner is broken, leave him.
When he refuses to keep a toothbrush at your apartment, leave him.
When you find the toothbrush you keep at his apartment hidden in the closet, leave him.
Do not regret this.
Do not turn red.
When your mother hits you, do not strike back.

 

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Annabel Lee

(Edgar Allan Poe)

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

I’ve read few of Poe’s, and like usual he always gave me the creeps (in a good way). His works were beautiful yet heavy with sadness. Before today I had never caught with this particular poem. This morning when I was reading one of Kristen Ashley books (my favorite author), Golden Trail, this wonderful poetry was mentioned. I’ve heard about Annabel Lee, but somehow I haven’t read it (I wonder why…).  This poetry was described beautifully in the story, and with only few words I fall in love. Yes, in those novel the author didn’t put entire length, just few words, but oh my god, Ashley the queen of the story of love  always knew what the reader need. Ashley put this wonderful words : But we loved with a love that was more than love-I and my Annabel Lee. 

A simplicity of severe meanings

Again Poe amaze me. It was poignant. I could felt the love, shrouded by layers of grieve.

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Me and You

This is me

This is you

This is us

Not me

Not you

But us

Together as one

Forever, as long as we both shall live 

(c)MyLunar.130712

 

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My Anguish Hero

Dark Lover, first time I saw you
I may cringe with your coldness
But even as ruthless as you are, still fascinated

Lover Eternal, next rendezvous with you
I startled in those split second you slipped your mask
Cruel and viscous yet there’s tenderness hidden, stupefied I was

Lover Awakened, when your story has been told
I loath over the torment and torture
Misty-eyed I cried until the last, captivated I become

And I dedicate my gratitude, dear Bella
For being the light when darkness come

Hello everyone! It’s been a long time since my last post. Well, I get brain hibernated here, LOL. This poetry base on Lover Awakened , the third installment of Black Dagger Brotherhood by JR Ward, one of my fave book. It’s a paranormal romance story (yeah, vampire guys!), which quite popular. This is about the main character of the book, Zsadist, a former blood sex slave vampire. He is tormented character, feared by enemies and friends, with anger as his loyal companion. This book is love story about Zsadist and Bella. The tortured hero with her exquisite heroine. Enjoy Fellas!

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You’re Just My Fantasy

What I knew was only a little piece
Not the whole puzzle
Not the whole picture

Whom I knew of was only an image
Image of my own imagination
Image of my own dream and hope

How I knew when it was only in a short time period
How dare I claimed
How dare I could be
When you were you

But in my mind it was a perfect one
Perfect imagination
And here I’m lost
Lost in the fantasy
In delusion
‘Coz my fanciness stray me
From the reality
Of the real person
Of who you are

(c)MyLunar.260811

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Last Night

Last night
I was dreaming
Dreaming of you
You, the one
One that always there
There’s to reminds me over
Over and over again through it all
All that we’ve shared

Last night
You’ve came
Came sneaking in my sleep
Sleep, I was
Was and still is you never enough
Enough to torture me with memories
Memories that lay between us
Us as one then

(c)MyLunar.240811
Picture by : mollyzhang

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