Now the past is just another page in My Love history
And thats the only thing that can put me in my misery
With blood rushing out of my arteries to my veins
So what must i do? this sadness i can't maintain

i'll just cut-open my chest, and plant my heart 6 beneath
slick my wrist and let my blood slowly bleed
Because i can't bare this life of suffering for eternity
physically and emotionally , i'm deeply in agony

So lets wait and see if my Heart grows to a Tree
and if it does then,
Let the leaves be the pages of our memories
The stem and branches be the chapters of us
and Let my blood and tears be the ink-pen
Let the roots be my the deepest memories kept within

Remember there is no existence without our souls
I did what i have to do, and now i have utter my goals
Now i found the key to life, the key to paradise
i, forever now understand the Tree of Love Life

thanks

.....Will She Come?.....


all evening he waited
anxiously eyeing the clock
retracing his steps
over and over
counting the minutes
until her arrival

kneeling before a crackling fire
adding another log
he rose to check again
his preparations for tonight

the thick sheepskin rug
lay lovingly spread before the flames
..WAITING FOR HER..

the book
the one she longed after
in that tiny shop downtown
rested on the warm stone hearth
..WAITING FOR HER..

the wine
that special bottle
from a few years ago
late fall harvest
sat open
and sweet
..WAITING FOR HER..

the glasses
his best crystal
sat sparkling in the firelight
..WAITING FOR HER..

his hand
stopped a moment
over his heart
and lovingly fingered
the prize there
hidden away in his pocket
where it lay
..WAITING FOR HER..

taking the ring
from its secret place
he gazed at it
mesmerized by its shine
by what it stood for
soon he smiled and
softly slipped it back
to its repose
where it lay
..WAITING FOR HER..

seating himself back on the chair
he resumed his vigil
over the fire
over the wine
over the clock
over himself

and he sat
quiet and lost in thought
...................
..WAITING FOR HER..

thxx..

thankss

Sad once again!
i can see it in my tears
i can see it in my blood
the way it drips out my eyes,
runs down my fist
the water is black and now running down my chest
but the blood from my vains still keeps flowing down my fist

the razor i used
is right by my side
in the silence of the dark
i know no one will ever hear my cry
that's why
my pain and depression
always makes me want to
   ..D...I...E..

thanks

eshajam:

Sad once again!
i can see it in my tears
i can see it in my blood
the way it drips out my eyes,
runs down my fist
the water is black and now running down my chest
but the blood from my vains still keeps flowing down my fist

the razor i used
is right by my side
in the silence of the dark
i know no one will ever hear my cry
that's why
my pain and depression
always makes me want to
   ..D...I...E..

eshajam:

nice one

thankssssss

Sometimes I feel like
I want to cry
or not face life
to hide away
but I don't need to,
I'm already stuck
behind the mask of assumption
you made for me
and placed on my face.

Sometimes I don't want to be in public
I don't know what to wear
how to act
you can throw something on
I work so hard
to look like
everybody else.

But that's o.k.
I'm already hidden
behind the clothes of prejudice and stereotype you made for me
I never have to worry about
if you actually see who I am and don't like me
how nice of you.

Sometimes I feel like
I want to cry
or not face life
to hide away
but I don't need to,
I'm already stuck
behind the mask of assumption
you made for me
and placed on my face.

nice..

this topic was closed
right tasha...

nice.

~tasha~:

thanks MB,LG

eshajam:

Sometimes I feel like
I want to cry
or not face life
to hide away
but I don't need to,
I'm already stuck
behind the mask of assumption
you made for me
and placed on my face.

nice..

awwwwww .. its nice

yeah tashu's poem makes us cry everytime

eshajam:

yeah tashu's poem makes us cry everytime

oh it touched ur heart

awww. so sad.

The willow weaps

tears fall off her branches


The willow covers

when hidden under her


sad you can be


she protects in her,

own sorrow.

weaps or weeps?

~tasha~:

The willow weaps

tears fall off her branches


The willow covers

when hidden under her


sad you can be


she protects in her,

own sorrow.

i'll not cry this time



































but i can't stop it
more tashu..

eshajam:

~tasha~:

The willow weaps

tears fall off her branches


The willow covers

when hidden under her


sad you can be


she protects in her,

own sorrow.

i'll not cry this time



































but i can't stop it
more tashu..

may b nx time

eshajam:

If it be true that every entrance shadows
somewhere an exit, then it be true that love
is blind. The giving of ourselves up for the
auction of emotions, the owned and owner
mapping the future in the bliss of there
afterglow, penning them in, to the poetry
of joint dreams, where, when they wake
they salute the sun with knowing eyes
but mislead minds. The love they have
is the thawing and freezing of water
in the crack of there passion wall.


I think of things that enter, and see how,
despite , love, taste, or desire, they
always inevitably pass through- like a
circus rolling into town, exciting, thrilling,
pleasuring before rolling on.
The act of love, the eating of food, the
reward of work, all comings of a going.
Last night as I lay like a lost dog denied
of its owners love and trust I whimpered
within- taking note of the clouds-
an advancing arming storming forth
leaving nothing but a smile of thought
and an empty sky.