ok here goes. some of mine: (a bit dark I warn you)

I Can Cry:

I can cry myself senseless
Without a stop
Like a flickering light,
On and off when it wants.
Like a broken twig in the wind,
Sway here, Sway there.
Like a lost soul
With nothing to bare.

I can say Im not mad,
Convince even myself.
I can hide it away
Somewhere deep and safe.

It comes back to haunt me,
There late at night.
It comes back to taunt me,
And I can't put up a fight.

So I lay there awake,
Sobbing slow
I don’t know what to do now,
I don’t know where to go.



Let me tell you a story:

Let me tell you a story
about a girl who was so sad,
Let me tell you a story
about a girl who's always mad,
Let me tell you a story
of how it all went wrong,
If I told this story
it would be too long,
Lets just say she was born
in a world of pain,
She found herself slowly
going quite insane,
She was sinking to the dark
fast out of sight,
She tried but
she just couldn't find the light,
Now she is a total mess
living less and less.

This girl now stands before you
trying not to yell,
Will there be a happy ending?
That I can not tell.



As I lay there awake at night:

As I lay there awake at night
all my realizations dawn on me.
As I lay there awake at night
all my worries surface.
As I lay there awake at night
I cry.
Because I realize how bad it all is.
How deep is my stress and situation.
That moment is my worst
And I live to fear it
Because at that moment
the darkness takes over me
and you wouldn’t wish to know my thoughts just then
Because if you knew,
They'd kill you.


One thing:

One thing goes wrong
and the day is gone
another ring in the chain of disaster
again my hope is crushed
knocked back down on my knees
back down where I was
Lost. Gone.
Is that where I belong?
the darkness takes over me

It hurts more than anything
there is so much pain,
some thing crept in last season'
which made it a continuous rain

the dark clouds heavy and dense,
that it could not sustain,
lost control of ever since,
which make it a continuous rain,

days and nights are passing by,
silence is what now and then,
the emptyness is emmptying since,
which made it a continuous rain,

eyes need arest badly,
i tried with whatever i can,
my heart is not ready to except it,
which make it a continuous rain,

with my memories in my room,
i can see a door open,
but eyes cannt withstand light now,
its over there is no again....

Something that i've tried to hide,
may never surface,
some lent memories of sharings,
and inner rejoice,

something that the wind drifted,
to the far away world,
something that sleeps now in silence,
in memories old,

please dont try to recall them,
it hurts,
there may be a call but
always with buts,

i have adapted myself,
to talk with stars,
in my lone moments,
they were never far,

i have waited,
but drifted with time,
now its desert ,
there isnt any rhyme,

the wind has played its part,
sand has nothing to bind,
carving on stones will remain forever,
but i've left that road behind....

The bed was ready,
beneath the shining lue stars,
few pots of flowers, blue n pink around,
and the chilling breeze passing by,

there was a silence,
wrapping the darkness of night,
and i was lost in my own world,
sleep was nowhere in sight,

i stood up to walk around the lawn,
with bare feet on soft grass,
to relax n calm my unstable mind,
so that sleep may come at last,

i looked up it was half moon,
silver rays were coming through mango tree,
there was a devine calmness in it,
but my mind was still not free,

i was thinking about the mirror,
last day i've seen some reflections in it,
there was some shadows unknown,
and a hook piercing deep beneath,

there were some uttered words too,
that i couldnt even remember,
but the same voice was haunting me,
whenever i sleep, it came as whisper,

as i closed my eyes,
i saw a high stone cliff series,
there was a winding path too,
running along silently,

i found myself on that road,
naked and sweating,
i was alone and feared,
breath was breaking yet running,

i opened my eyes,
may be i couldnt sleep anymore,
suddenly a wave of breeze passed by,
whispering.. question itself is the answer....

the ocean is seeming to be calm and silent,
is it night or day,
i can see some birds,
returning to there nests,
may be worried,
but in hurry for sure,
the sky is looking mysterious,
some what grey a bit,
is it humid?
no.. but seems to be,
few dropes of sweat,
trying hard to calm the forehead,
but despite all that,
a nightangle is singing,
somewhere behind those brown bushes,
may be the life is about to come,
or going to be lost for always,
in this grey sky.....

the night is coming to an end,
with the red lining in eastern sky,
the cloud has stoped raining,
watching the stars hiding thy,

may be words are dancing,
with the zingle coming from horizon,
but somewhere is going a solitary song,
silently for the end of silence....

i dont know what to say,
its hazy around here,
may be the sweet angle,
somewhere in the sky,
through her deep brown eyes,
trying to say something,
with sad and silent heart,
yet dreaming,
that one day,
her wet eyes will change into smile,

its hazy around here,
alas ! i could show my heart,
its same almost,
days of longing,
is getting longer and longer,
may be the sun is angry with me,
he refused to offer light,
where to go,
where to find,
its getting hazy around here,

sinking deeper and deeper,
the innocense of dove,
is no longer with me,
eyes to have dried,
except for once a while,
when a few odd drops,
flow down through my cheek,

its getting hazy around here,
if you can hear my call,
wake up,
i cannt take it anymore,
my angel come,
break the silence,
let the spring shine,
throughout the yellowed garden,
let the love blossom at last,
come... my sweetheart......

eyes met just for a moment,
been to each others heart,
may be searched for something,
both of us acting smart,

hiding inner feelings,
showing indifferent,
but the truth was naked,
at that very moment,

now the empty smile,
fooling ourselves,
trying hard to stop,
approaching waves,

may be parrallels
are never meant to be one,
but we have to go face to face,
nothing can be done..........

Let me just say in advance, some of these are not mine. Writing runs through my family. I'll put the name of the person who wrote them. Treat them nice! These are precious poems that have been passed through my family! :)

The Real Meaning of “Young Love”

A tangled imperfection,
The love from a heart.

The anger and the hurt,
Ripping them apart.

The killer instinct for survival,
Which no person can out grow.

Are making words the truth,
And actions just a show.

The curtain they try to draw,
Is translucent to their eyes.

The fog of confusion because of their actions,
And the feelings everyone hides.

To love each other and to learn,
Is the greatest of gifts God bestows.

A tool Satan abuses,
As he turns all loves to loathes.

Taleah Elizabeth Cox
May 29, 2004

I See

In walking down the sidewalk
of a busy city street,
I like to watch the people
with whom I chance to meet.
Some of them look tired and worn,
others seem quite gay.
Some look like they are longing
for someone far away.
I see an old man bent and gray
a boy just in his teens.
Some women dressed in silks and furs,
and some walk a little dizzy like
and some walk pretty straight
some in such a hurry
some take a slower gait.
Many take the careless way,
shunning the iron rod.
Some show by the goodness in their face
they walk the path of God.

Alice Street Redden
Date unknown
My Great great great great great. . . Grandmother! lol She's cool. Very spiritual.

To My Family

Dear children, even yet unborn,
My precious posterity . . . .
These words are and thoughts
Are prayers . . . expressed in poetry.

Thoughts especially for you,
Send down through time,
Pass them on to those I love . . .
My testimony in rhyme.

This special gift for you,
I very freely give, and
Pray it helps one and all,
A better life to live.

To help you know our Father’s love
Can conquer time and space,
My prayer is that I’ll meet you. . .
Another time and place.

Until then, these poems of mine
Are cherished inner feelings. . .
Open, read, enjoy and share,
Gain insight to lives meanings.

Dorothy Jarvis Williams
March 18, 1985
This is my Grandma. She's a wonderful kind woman. She collected some of her poems and put them in a book. With her permission she let me put some in a book I did for myself.