Maybe there are some things that can be left unsaid. But, I love you, is not it.

Jerry Brotherton

When I was young my parents told me that I would wish I had this time to live again. I have to say that I thought they were a bit senile. Who in their right mind would want to live with no TV, cell phone or Facebook? Who wants to fish in clean water, breathe unpolluted air, or play in the middle of the street without harm? Who needs to sleep through a silent night or wake early to play in dew covered grass? Who needs simplicity, friends …family? Why would I long to hug my father, to kiss my mother’s brow, to tell my brothers and sisters I love them.

“Not me,” said the ignorance of youth.

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Heartstring Eulogies

“I need you, my love. The taste of your lips.
The way you take my breath away. All of it.”

I left the lighthouse on for you, my love. Did you see it? That glint, hiding in my eyes. The desperation rushing through me to tell you everything you mean to me. That need to reach out to you and revel in every part of you. The warmth of your cheeks. The taste of your lips. The way you take my breath away and only leave me needing more. Those are the moments I crave. To have you in my arms. I left the light on for you, my love. So please, don’t get lost in the night.

© Sarah Doughty

Come back to me always.

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Cocoon – Haiku, a poem by Goff James

Art, Photography and Poetry

Poem Credit © goffjamesart/photography/poetry

Click here to read more.

Image Credit © Carol McDermott, In her dream there was a youth with a shield, (Date Unstated)

Source Credit

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Them words…


As I slip under the sheets

your words whisper

softly into my ears

they dance enticingly

in front of my eyes

they laughingly mock me

having invaded my head

all I can now do is

to surrender to them

and let them gaze at me lovingly

trace the contours of my heart

caress my feverish soul

and explore my very being

culminating in fireworks

that will make the moon blush

light up the skies

and set your ocean afire.

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Identity Thief

Couch Talks, Wisdom & A Cup of Joe

In her blood, you will not find my DNA.
Only cells of mimicry that clone my ways.
Within her body, you will not find my soul.
Only characteristics of me she stole.
Cut her mind open and find many beliefs,
but not one will be her own, fore she’s a thief —
A chameleon changing colors, stealing skin.
Please, do not be fooled, fore she is not my twin.

In the words that she writes, she has used my style.
In her friendly demeanor, she wears my smile.
She may dress like me.
She may speak like me.
She may act like me.
But she is not me.

My friend, look closely and realize she’s a fraud
trying to steal a life she wished she could have.
I’m a victim of stolen identity!

Can you not tell which is the fake?


or Me?

Signature Manessah B

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