The original poem was written over a year ago: http://saphrym.com/writing/poetry/i-can-remember/
Spend time with your mother. It doesn’t have to be your biological mother. Just spend time with the person you feel is your true mother. It could be an aunt, a foster parent, etc. Take some time to spend with them this weekend.
My mother passed away on my wedding anniversary the year my daughter was born. I can’t spend time with her now. So this weekend I will be spending time with my daughter’s mother.
I’ll see you Monday.
Have you ever woke up and realized you’ve lost hope? Have you ever woke up and realized there was a stone wall around your soul keeping everything good and pure out and opening only for the legions of dark thoughts that fly around looking to corrupt you? Have you ever woke up and looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a creature that your darkest nightmares would be afraid of? Have you ever woke up with black fire surrounding you, burning
Continue reading “This is My Scream”
On the white sheets lie shades of peach and crimson.
Her brown eyes see tears rolling through the room.
A framed portrait presents a denied future.
Aching, the pale lids close and absorb peace.
The progeny, cheeks wet, quit to another room.
One remains, trembling and daring to defy,
Fingernails dig into the flesh of numb hands.
His mind’s voice screams to the heavens: Continue reading “Cocoon of an Angel”
The strength of the red, the caring of the blue.
Are they the sole? No, there’s also the white
of the clouds and of the pure eagle’s flight.
But white is a rainbow of dew (or due?) Continue reading “White is Not the Cow”
I crave your eyes.
I crave their deep souls.
I crave your lips.
I crave the honeysuckle kisses.
I crave your life.
I crave its ruby existence.
I crave your mind.
I crave our silly conversations.
I crave your Continue reading “Craving”