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Poems of Love
Poems For Life
Poems to Inspire
Poems of Passion
Poems of Beauty
Poems to Ponder
CRACK COCAINE
Poetry by Dina
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Samuel A Southworth
Dave Barsby
Dave Barsby 2
Mike Billington
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Sonja Blundell at 14
Anna Danilewicz
John Force
Patricia Fowler
Sharon Frost
Sharon Frost 2
Patricia V Hollander
Mary M Henderson
George W Knox
Patricia A Lackey
Duane Locke
LordThatsMeToday
Sylvia Lukeman
Benjamin A McDade
James
Christian by James
James on Family
Mike Diaz
Poetry by Deborah
Donald Ryburn
James Spencer
Nicole
Jessica
Rick
Links Now
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Apollo
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| Poetry! Yes! Now! |
| Patricia Fowler |
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  IT GETS EASIER It gets a little easier as time heals the wounds. The tender places are tougher. Don't love again too soon. Don't give yourself so freely, withhold your heart for now. Soon you'll learn to love again, your soul will show you how. Be patient with your love my heart your time will come again. Soon you'll beat with love again and no longer beat with pain. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com BE CAUTIOUS Be cautious my heart and not so quick to do the bodys bidding. You need, I know you do, you needn't think I've thought of quitting. I know your needs, they are my own, but wait until this love has grown. Grown to fill the void inside, the void you thought so deep and wide. You need him now, you want her so, I wish you'd take the time to know. To know his ways, to know her love. Ask for patience from above. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com ATOP A MOUNTAIN When I thought about the Indian ways, in the time before I knew. I thought I had some knowledge, but, I didn't have a clue. I thought I had the pattern of the earths ways figured out, but, it seems the more I study, I know not what I speak about. One day I took a trip to sit atop a mountain, well I thought I'd sit and listen to the things it had to tell. She told me of her mountain goats, who climb around her trees. She told me of her eagles, who fly her skies with ease. She told me of her brown bear, who sleeps away the cold. She told me of the bugs and ants, they've been here from times of old. She told me of her people, the proud, the brave, the free, and how they passed their stories on, from knee to fathers knee. She told me how they loved the land, took naught but what was needed, and Mother Natures needs were always--always heeded. The bird in air, the fish at sea, the rabbit, deer and fox, the lonely wolf and mountain cat, the buffalo and ox, Along with man they lived in peace, they thought it wouldn't, but, as we know, that couldn't be, change was coming on the wind. I won't go into all the rest, we know it all to well. I hope we've learned, I know we have the story now to tell. If we all try, I know we can replace the things we've taken, and when we go, the place we leave, won't be so badly shaken. So, as you go, go gently, don't stomp upon her land. If we will try to keep her clean, she'll lend a helping hand. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com SO MUCH DESTRUCTION We speak of Mother Nature, and all her wondrous glory, but lately, when I look around, I see another story. A mudslide here, tornado there and then a hurricane, when she's upset she takes it out on us, it's very plain. When she is sad, what's she to do but cry her tears while storming? And, when we hurt her, we must expect her, to do things without warning. We drain her water and oil her seas and fill her air with smoke, we waste her oil and cut her trees and curse her when we choke. There are but just a few of us who understand her ways. We were the first to use this land, but, were not allowed to stay. We used what MOTHER gave us and put back so there would be more to feed the children coming to knock upon her door. She opens her door gladly to all who would treat her well, and hangs her branches sadly when we take her gifts to sell. So if you read these words of mine, please take them to your heart. You are the one, you are the warrior who has her war to start. Do what you can to save this land, to pass it on to yours. Please leave clean air and leave clean seas, from shore to distant shore. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com Butterflies touch down on Gods pallet leaving colors in breathtaking arrays for Him to use in a sunset. © Patricia Fowler I am frustrated---my efforts to communicate with others is stymied by my inability to communicate with myself. RANDOM THOUGHTS Until now, I had thought that I was in control of my thoughts, my life,my happiness. It was not til now, that I realiz just how little control I truly have over anything, simply because I never took control. © Patricia Fowler THE LADY The lady sits and stares at things she'll never see. The lady sits and ponders, the things she'll never be. She'll never be a princess, she'll never be a star, she'll always be a dreamer, she'll never travel far. But, she's queen of all her household, her life story's superstar. Her dreams are sweet, but incomplete, she wonders why they are. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com STORMY THOUGHTS I looked at the sky and it seemed to be as bruised as my heart. I studied the colours and they made me think of my emotions. I saw blue ... for loneliness. I saw black ... for lack of light the light of insight. I saw green Dark, ugly green green for envy and jealousy. Then I heard thunder angry sounds, furious sounds of no meaning, no understanding I saw lightening Flashes of truth making fragmentary attempts to enlighten the day. Then I felt the rain It fell in soothing sheets of relief, like my tears. While contemplating the bleakness of my soul and of my day, slowly I began to see brighter shades of blue, lighter shades of green, the bleak blackness was gone. No more tears and ugly sounds You came home. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com HOW DO YOU FEEL How do you feel, when all's said and done? If you care, you feel like you were the one, who left empty spaces and didn't love well, the one with the story you'd rather not tell. You've done your best to share your life with someone you love, your husband or wife. You've gotten to know him, you've just let her in, that's when you notice, you're not gonna win. You're not gonna make it, you can't stay together, to many storms, to hard to weather. You never stop loving, you never stop caring, you suddenly notice--you just stop sharing. You used to share good things as well as the bad. Sometimes you were happy, sometimes you were sad. But, you sang all your love songs alone, so it seems and watched as your dreams fell apart at the seams. So you took the big step, made that final decision - to leave one another in search of a vision of happiness true, of love everlasting, and you write this one off as a case of poor casting. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com WE GAVE HIM HIS FIRST DRINK We came to his land uninvited. We waged our war unnoticed. We plundered his fields and ruined his health for only one reason to increase our wealth. We introduced him to demon drink and plied him with it, 'til he couldn't think. We raped his women and schooled his kids. We did all this, and you know we did. We stole his home and gave him wine, and then we call him drunk, homeless swine. Who were we to stain his dirt and take away his warrior shirt? Some would call him noble red man then curse his name for taking a stand to protect his home, his wife and ways To live his life in years not days. With humble weapons of stone and stick he fought the fires with smoke so thick he couldn't see what he was doing but watched his world fall into ruin. He did his best to protect his land but, I think he knew he couldn't stand against the white mans encroaching power and so he gave up, field and bower. To think of this makes my heart sad, that my ancestors were so bad, as to run a race of people, proud into the ground and under a shroud. Copyright © Patricia Fowler September 1999 NDNMADN46@aol.com YOU AND I We fit together so well, you and I, whether in our waking hours or in slumber. We sleep with scarcely a breath between us and feel the loss if we don't touch. We compliment each other, you and I, whether in sleep or awake. We seek to do for one another rather than to take. We need each other so much, you and I. It surpasses wanting. We survive on one another, you and I. You are to be commended, my love. You make me sleep well, live well, and love well and all for you and I. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com AFTER A DAY After a day of being in love, I lay beside him in his slumber, matching my breath to his own, fearful of waking him, lest he be dreaming of me. After a day of playing together, we come to our solitude, to be one in each other, to be two together. And after a night of duet slumber, we rise together, to love again, to play again, to be one together again, and then, again, I match my breath to his, for fear of waking him lest he be dreaming of me-----again. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com WHAT IS A WOMAN A woman is a strong and gentle breed. Treat her with the care she needs, she'll shine your soul and bear your seed. She'll clean your house and mend your cloths help heal your wounds and wipe your nose. She needs your love, demands your need and if you're cut, she'll try to bleed. She'll nurture your ideas, help you with your plans. She'll make you feel real luck she choose you for her man. She'll help you with your burdens, stay by you all through life, and if you haven't guessed by now this woman is your wife. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com THE WAY LOVE ISN'T For centuries, people have told us what they think love is. I don't believe that anyone has put to paper what love isn't, or shouldn't be. Your first instinct is to think of all the things love is, and simply state the opposite. It is, for me at least, somewhat more complicated than that. Love isn't demanding anything, even love. Love isn't jealous, even of love. Love isn't violent, ever even over love. Love isn't possessive, especially of love. Love isn't predictable, thank goodness. Love isn't constant in love. Love isn't loving someone or growing to love someone and then changing them into someone else and then saying, when you're angry,"You've changed, why?" Love isn't restricting someone else's growth to fit your own design of love. Love isn't sitting up alone in the early morning hours, writing down your inner most thoughts, when you have someone sleeping alone in your house, missing you and loving you. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com FEELING Lying, limply lazy, seeing cloudy, hazy images of my wasted life pass my half closed eyes. Thinking, sometimes crazy thoughts, that I might maybe do some great important thing before this body dies. Struggling free of hang-ups, doing mental pushups, makes me think I might create some wondrous words or deeds. Thinking, crying, sadness, seeing living badness, brings to mind the way we live to fill our wants and needs. Can I bring forth an easy way to put in sounds, the words to say, to make the ones around me know the way I feel inside? Why is hiding necessary? Why is everyone so wary, of anyone they do not know, of things they cannot say? Why can't we live an open life, deal directly with our strife, hide nothing in our inner heart that might reflect dismay? I vow that from this day on out, if I feel it, I will shout I love you, hate you, need you to be the one deserving of the view. To live my life an open book, so anyone can take a look and see the kind of person hiding in this skin of mine. If everyone could live this way and say the words they want to say, we'd either have no friends at all or have them in a line. So as you read these words of mine, reflect my thoughts and please be kind to those who don't deserve it as well as those who do. You'll feel good about yourself, removing feelings from their shelf. Expressing love and need and trust and leaving hatred in the dust. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com ORCA Mammoth bodies glide without effort, ageless messages obeyed, ancient routes followed without question and, they sing for us. They call it killer, but nothing is more unlikely. Gentle giant, caring mother trusting babe and, they sing for us. Would that we could understand, what wondrous stories could be told, what ancient mysteries unfold when, they sing for us. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com MY MANS HANDS My mans hands are wise and old. My mans hands are easy to hold. My mans hands are gentle and soft My mans hands send my body aloft. My mans hands can touch my soul. My mans hands can make me whole. My mans hands con turn me on. My mans hands I depend upon. My mans hands do a hard days work. My mans hands would never shirk. My mans hands I depend upon. My mans hands won't do me wrong. My mans hands will raise my son. My mans hands will make us one My mans hands will see us through. My mans hands will start life anew. My mans hands will take us in. My mans hands will calm the wind. My mans hands I love to feel. My mans hands my hearts wounds heal. I put our lives in my mans hands, to see us thru life's shifting sands. I have no doubt you'll see us thru, so, remember Darling, we love you. As we have put our lives on you, remember, you can trust us to. You came to us the worse for wear, looking for someone to care. So, as I can depend on my mans hands, you trust in me, you know you can. I love you now, I'll always care, I'll never hurt you, I wouldn't dare. To hurt you now, I couldn't do it. I really wouldn't put you thru it. We love you so, we need you here. Please tell us that you will stay near. To put it bluntly and close for now, I couldn't leave you, I don't know how. I know meet beat all of life's demands, cause I've come to depend on MY MANS HANDS. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com When I love, I love completely, and thought I've loved often, I've never loved frivolously. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com The sky is Gods room, the moon His night lite. The stars shine through tiny holes torn in the black velvet fabric of the night. The dark of night-- a diamond studded cave Brightened on occasion by a comets streaking wave. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com Today someone asked me, "What do you want to do?" and he really wanted to know. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com Today someone said he loved me--and I believed him then he said I was his best friend, and I cried. I cried for the joy of being loved and befriended. I cried because someone wanted to help me do what I wanted to do, and what I wanted to do was love him. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com I sit pregnant with thought, unable to deliver my thoughts to paper for fear someone will see, and misunderstand. Copyright © Patricia Fowler NDNMADN46@aol.com Copyrighted poetry may not be copied, reproduced or used in any way without the express written permission of the author. Thank you for visiting my website. Please visit often since new poetry such as those above, written by talented authors, is being always being added. I bribe the authors. LOL Please vote for my pages by clicking on the little tab on the upper left hand side of any page of my site. I'd appreciate it if you'd sign my Guest Book so that I'll know you've been here. If you prefer, you may send me Email at KisSoSoft@aol.com with your comments, praise, suggestions or even constructive criticism. You may also write directly to any of the authors for whom an Email address has been provided. If you'd like to write to an author for whom there is no Email address provided, please send it to me at KisSoSoft@aol.com, and I will forward your mail directly to him or her. Thank you. If you write poetry, have a friend who does or if you know a child who writes (I have a no rejection policy for children's poetry) please send it to me by Email and if I like it, I'll publish it on these pages. No attached files please. It would be helpful if you'd include PYN in the Subject Line of your Email. Thank you. Please visit my other poetry website, Lovin' Angel Creations at http://maxpages.com/lovinangel Thank you. |
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