ajwrites57

your little life  words you've written on the page explain the deeds you did today descriptions of the life you lead how you love, how you bleed verbs and nouns now crowd the lines pointing to the life's warning signs of where to go and what to do you do the things that make you you phrases phrased reflect your mind show the inner heart defined emotions spilled in little pools joy and tears for friends and fools adjectives that make their mark in the light and in the dark mirror what you wish you had taking all the good with bad  ten thousand words may fill your book with poetic license that you took to make your little life look big will any other give a fig? © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ If you like this poem, try this one:  inhale deep !

Ballad of Me  With pen  in hand  (I dislike to type.)  sitting, dazed,  I take a swipe. Ink flows  onto  white-lined pad,  methinks aloud,  "'Tis not too bad!"  Rhyming  like  a super bard,  at times,  a poem  can come  hard. Chained,  to a chair,  I sit  and write,  on and on,  through  day  and  night. Coffee  flows,  like the ink, it helps me  focus, thoughts  to think.  Moonlight shines upon the page, nighttime writing  is the rage. Face  is growing  wan  and pallid from lack of sun, so now it's time I end this ballad.  © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image by:  Cali4beach via Flickr

A Girls' Life I see a sea of girls' freckled faces, long pigtails and wire braces. I see a sea of girls' mascaraed faces, curled eyelashes and rouge traces. I see a sea of girls' ruby lipped faces, teasing eyes, and kiss surprises. I see a sea of girls' open heart faces, pleasing eyes, and love arises. I see a sea of girls' family life faces, giving days, and fruitful ways. I see a sea of girls' full-lived faces, hope fulfilled and plans well-played. I see a sea of girls' life-lined faces, lovely creases and smiles un-ceased. I see a sea of girls' aged faces, world wizened and wind worn beauty. I see a sea of girls' sleeping faces, time-worn and time completed duty. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image:   By middlewick

indolence indolent pawns file into view await the master's plan purview silent sheep in sectioned rows soundless hums, ghoulish glows political purpose on display expedient puppets in array  feckless dupes queue into sight dumbly stare into glowing light screens entertain lulled masses await the arrival of video glasses social order arranged by moguls passive peons passionately ogle video, audio, interactive view fast-food feasts, blindly chew obesity soars, bulging weight supersize me, heaven's gate sanctioned slaughter one by two who is next? me or you? © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image by:  Richard Webb CC-BY-SA-2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Image:  By Jorge Royan (Own work) CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons two-step She did a two-step on my heart, my poor heart broke and fell apart. She kept dancing; it shattered more, I swept my broken heart up off the floor. I gathered up the thousand pieces, my furrowed brow turned into creases. She kept on dancing: I just sagged. My splintered heart stuffed in a bag. I flung the sack across my back. My empty chest was cold and black. I wandered near and wandered far, my loveless heart wished upon a star. I carried my heart to be repaired, the tinker shook his head then stared. "A broken heart is not a pot," he said. My face turned white, then turned red. My heart was cold in my little bag. All my hopes began to flag. Lo! In the distance, I heard a song. I listened deep, listened long. I followed the sound of the lovely tune, about love gone 'round the moon. With my sack in hand I ran a course, up then...

simply shared  shadows silhouetted moonbeams meld sunlight lasers shadows held frozen tree limbs winter grips frosted blossoms ice-storm strips rain-cloud bursts springtime flowers budding thirsts warmest showers heatwave heaven green grass blades ripened harvest sought for shades simple pleasures simply shared happy moments lover cared © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ image by:  By Bobanny (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

two faces each one has two faces, each face plays a part, each one shows traces, of a traitor in the heart. each one makes decisions, each face turns aside, each one shows divisions, of betrayals that they hide. each one loves another, each face from the start, each face shows a brother, of deception made an art. each one tries to cover, each face turns aside, each failure to be faithful, each face that has denied. each one weeps together, each face sheds real tears, each painful deed tethers, each heart full of fears. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ By Bryan Derksen, CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

between between the lines of age, a bar from every cage, a line from every page, days of life, we swage. ★ ★ ★ between the hands of time, a ring from every chime, a line from every rhyme days of life, we sublime. ★ ★ ★ between the echoes of sound, a song from every ground, a line from every round, days of life, we redound. ★ ★ ★ between the rhythm of dance, a heart from every romance, a line from every chance, days of life, we enhance. ★ ★ ★ between the hands of fate, a choice between every gate, a line from every strait, days of life, we relate. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ image:  By imelenchon If you enjoy this poem, you can find more of my writing  here.

Bogart and Bacall Romance and Love Romance swells our hearts and souls. We long for love, yearn for love, hunger for love. Our American culture surrounds us with images, movies and stories of love. Writers and poets have written stories about love from time immemorial. We mark our lives by stages of love. Our first kiss, our first date, our first love, our first heartbreak fill our adolescence and early adulthood. We spend the rest of our years waiting for love, loving or grieving lost love. Romance is part of our human existence. I asked a rhetorical question in this poem: What is Love? I believe there are stages or phases of love or romance. I have listed these below and have linked to poems that I have written to celebrate that aspect of love. (I haven't yet written a poem for all categories.) They are in a general order of how love progresses for some in the course of love's journey. (This is not accounting for maternal, paternal or filial love or love ...

The passing of friend  +Steven Malone  's father inspired me to write this poem.  Please offer Steve your condolences.  http://www.stevenspen.com/blog-1/ Ceased When life has run its weary course, we pray we've lived without remorse. When dying sun sets upon a life, we hope it ends with no strife. When mortal frame frames no more, we cling to memories from our store. When soul flies free from human form, we hope there's peace from this storm. When the day has turned to night, we search the tunnel for the light. When spirit soars from solid earth, we return to God before the birth. When thought will cease to fill the mind, we wonder will we wander blind. We turn to see the past behind, and the wending road unwind. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤  ❤  ❤  By Sandro Kharazashvili (Flickr: Light at the end of the tunnel) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wi...

I saw you When I saw you sitting on the swing, I didn't think I'd be thinking the things I'm thinking, the things I'm thinking of you, fill my heart. When I saw you walking in the park, I didn't think I'd be singing, the songs I'm singing, the songs I'm singing of you, fill my heart. When I saw you dancing in the meadow, I didn't think I'd be writing, the poems I'm writing, the poems I'm writing of you, fill my heart. When I saw you laughing in the sunshine, I didn't think I'd be writing, the stories I'm writing, the stories I'm writing of you, fill my heart. When I saw you flowing in my memory, I didn't think I'd be writing, the sonnets I'm writing, the sonnets I'm writing of you, fill my heart. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Photo by: Stefanomas

Stella Pulls Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. The same way she inhales them, draws the life from them, and sucks the air out of them. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She lures them in with her husky voice, the way she moves and the way she seems to be almost spilling out of her clothes. Her long, silky blond hair hangs in waves about her shoulders and men get dizzy in the ebb and flow of the locks while she walks through a room. They end up in a stupor and unable to talk. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She seems to hypnotize them with her soft, beautiful blue eyes. They stare, mesmerized, unable to break eye contact once they gaze deep into them. Their eyes glaze over as if in a trance. Stella pulls on her cigarette like she pulls on the hearts of all of her lovers. She intoxicates them with her fragrance. She smells like honeysuck...

Sisyphus Sadness i feel the sadness of the world sitting firmly on my heart, emotions stifled, rifled, rent and worn, from the start. i feel the sadness of the world fitted firmly on my back, staggering, stumbling, i take a step onto the aimless track. i feel the sadness of the world pressing, pounding in my head, thoughts of maudlin madness, thinking unsoundly, full of dread. i feel the sadness of the world stinging, burning my eyes, seeing, watching, staring, lonely, lonesome tears and cries. i feel the sadness of words ringing loudly in my ears, sounding, resounding, hearing the woeful voices of the years. i feel the sadness of the world pulling profoundly on my soul, powerful passions, pulsing, probing, plundering, leave me un-whole. i feel the sadness of the world placed implacably in the center of my palms, weighted worries, willful, woeful, and wieldy, positioned without qualms. i feel the sadness of the world dragging, draped around my feet,...

dry and brittle As the pages of life turn dry and brittle, I wonder how so much or how so little. How’ve the days just passed me by? What about what I did and didn’t try? How I’ve lived and how I’ve died, truths I’ve lived and lies I’ve lied. How’ve the days all slipped away? What about lost nights and days? Loves I’ve loved and loves I’ve lost, heads or tales, the coins I’ve tossed. How’ve the days of loving ceased? What about the loves released? Roads I’ve traveled near or far, wishes forgotten, upon a star. How’ve the dreams all gone astray? What about the long, forgotten way? © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long Image by:  By Fredericks at it.wikipedia, CC-BY-SA-3.0 from Wikimedia Commons If you enjoyed this poem, find more  here.

These poems are dedicated to my friend +kim hodges  and to new love.             Love Builds          MARCUZZI AND FRA By lufra Love builds, blossoms, blooms. Love covers, hovers, discovers. Love flowers, showers, empowers. Love thinks, remembers, forgets. Love grows, knows, shows. Love shields, yields, heals. Love finds, blinds, binds. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long Love Makes Love makes you fly, gets you high. Love makes laugh, makes you cry. Love makes you sigh,  makes you wanna try. Love gets you giddy, makes you feel pretty, Love empowers you to take a city! Love makes you happy,  makes you feel sappy. Love makes your heart sing, Love gives you thoughts of queens and kings. © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long Photo  By CynthiaNaniOKeefe If you enjoyed these poems, find more  here.

Know what annoys me? Those small, ubiquitous, amorphous pieces of plastic bags annoy me. They turn up everywhere. Yesterday I found one in my wallet attached to a receipt. You know what they are! They can be blue or white or tan or beige. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pack of cheese. Guess what was attached! They seem to have magnetic or adhesive or static connections to the oddest objects, in the strangest places. I grabbed a folder of pages I'm trying to whittle down to go paperless and pulled out a page. Lo and Behold! I found a piece of plastic bag. I guess they exist because the plastic bags can never be completely and thoroughly cut. These pieces must hover in space and attach themselves to whatever they can find. I pulled my keys out of my pocket a few minutes ago and guess what I found? Yep! Know what annoys me? These small, ubiquitous, amorphous pieces of plastic bags annoy me. © 2013 ajwrites57 A ...

Happy Love ! This post is about two poems that I penned about  Happy Love ! It's also about how I've organized my writing in general. When I started blogging a few months ago and started reviewing my writings, rewriting, and editing them, the best way I could think of to keep track of them for posting was to separate them into different topics. I have folders for all the writings I'm working on: Ready To Go , Working and To Edit , and sub-folders for poems  stories  and articles. I've gone through the Love Poems I've written over the years and have categorized them. The main folder is Love , of course. The next sub-categories I created are In Love and Love Struggle . In the In Love folder I have Strong Love , Happy Love and Ethereal Love . In the Love Struggle folder I have Longing Love and End of Love . There may be other categories for Love but for now, these are the ones that I have utilized at the  moment . It also helps me to focus on the emotions...

Someone asked, "What would your life be without color?"  I answered,  "My life would be pallid and pale without color.  Each day would be drab, dreary and dismal.  There'd be no primary colors, no rainbows,  no yellow sunshine, no red-blue-yellow sunsets  and no white clouds. No white snow or black storm clouds.  I'd walk in an indistinct and neutral existence.  No green  trees, no green  grass, no blue seas, no blue skies,  would leave me cheerless and dry. My face would not turn red  with anger or embarrassment. My face would not turn white  with fear or pain. I'd not grow green with envy.  Nothing would be just black and white.  My life would be full of motionless emotion,  if there were no color. © 2013 ajwrites57 Image URI:  http://mrg.bz/fwDYZp Image URI:  http://mrg.bz/g6haeq By  Hairysuncold Please find my other writings on Hub...

Last of July Last of July, summer slippin’ away. Past the middle of my Life; today feels that way. Tomorrow’s yesterday. More is left behind, than what lies ahead. Losing count of the days. The day is hot, sun setting; cool breeze on the rise. Feel the sting of lost days, burning my eyes. The past has passed, is past. Hope is far away, hope has gone to stay. Last of July, summer slippin’ away. Sun goin’ down, Tomorrow soon today. © 2013 ajwrites57 Image URI:  http://mrg.bz/FiQoBd By  frankybaby If you enjoyed this poem, read my other work on  Hubpages.

Love comes early for some, late for others. Love comes even later for some, even later for others. Love comes several times for some. Love comes not at all for others, sadly. All you need is love. Love has launched a thousand ships and makes the world go round. Love is a many spendored thing. Love stinks. Love is all you need. Love is patient, love is kind. Love is blind. Love happens in a second. Love happens over time. Love is a secret that many have search for and discovered. Love is a secret that many have search for and not found. Love...      Love grows, love shows,      Love knows, love glows.    Love cares, love tears,        Love spares, love shares.    Love wills, love thrills,  Love fills, love fulfills. © 2013 ajwrites57 image: http://www. flickr .com/photos/geishaboy500/ If  you like this poem, I've linked to another below. ...