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Explore poetry from the inside out

The Road. On The Ropes.

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Blue Besides. Let those wings go to rust. Golden Child. Not hard to talk to, is she? Yeah, she makes it easy she looks like what you wanna hear I used to need that from you to make me feel like something special standing back stage with a guitar and a beer. The Handbook. The Only Eyes. Back Row. Useless Memories. Holding onto broken dishes, birthday candles and their wishes gathering dust on the window sill Flowers dying on the front porch faded as the dress you once wore hanging in the closet still. Does your key unlock the door?

Like it did all those years when your foot steps kissed this floor Do your fingers know the chords to every song you wrote here? Piece of Heaven. Do you remember that oil man? Hallelujah Leonard Cohen. Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth The minor fall and the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah. Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you She tied you to her kitchen chair She broke your throne and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

But remember when I moved in you And the holy dove was moving too And every breath we drew was Hallelujah. I just wanna make you smile. Cause I fell just like all the rest. I was too broke down to fly. Take a chance on me Daddy, this may be all we got.

2. Dream of Fire and How We Feel

The night be black and the road may be long. Your voice may crack and it all sounds wrong. Now taste those tears. It seems your luck has all been shot. No use asking why. But sooner or later we all have to try. All You Ever. Everything you ever tried to be was just a fantasy.

The Bleeding Sky: My mother's journey through the fire. shop -

All you ever needed was someone to tell you you were right. And all you ever wanted was to put off some of your own light. There you are, singing Desperado in the car at night. There you are, with everybody looking up at you. Me Oh My. I had a baby but the good lord took her. She was an angel but her wings were crooked. I guess he figured he could love her better than me. Some girls marry and some girls wait. Some do better without that ball and chain…singing… Oh me, Oh my tell me it gets easier with time. With the way you drink and the brows you raise. You can bet they wonder how the bills get paid, when you dance all night and you sleep all day.

Girl when you gonna settle down, and make your mama proud? Oh no, not now. They say the good times go too fast. Edge of the Frame. And you make a scene, you get your picture in a magazine. Why you make a beggar out of your best friend. Oh heaven knows, you love to dress me up in ribbons and bows. I go to get myself a coffee and everybody stares at me.

They know you treat me awful mean. When the mailman brings the letters he tries to talk some sense to me. I tell myself over and over I should be getting out of here. So listen Honey and believe me, cause this is all I got to say… Anyone would have to be a fool to love you like I do. Hearts of Men. He was forty-six with the wife and the kids and the job with the suit and the tie. Oh but I, I wanna be your child again. I wanna remember when everything was new.

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And damn this pride that lives inside the hearts of men. She feared death.

Days of Remembrance Commemoration

During a long journey towards a temple on the hills, Sophie encountered a woman with sunken eyes who had a sick baby on her lap; she did not have the courage to look at the face of the baby because she knew that it was dead. A dead child, Matteo! She was educated and felt bad for the woman who had been walking such a long distance with sick baby because she knew that the baby was in need of urgent treatment, and not faith. She could not be led to believe the superstitions of Indians.

When I was a child, my parents would engage magicians to entertain us. Matteo considered the long journey towards the temple, a blissful experience but Sophie refused to climb up the stairs. Because she lacked faith and conviction. Matteo was physically attached with Sophie they were living in an ashram in Bihar. After giving birth to two children, she leaves Matteo and moves to Italy, but there, she realizes that she cannot live without him.

She was consumed by restlessness. She spat at him, " You? You are not fit to even enter his presence. He-he is a god.

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She reacted violently. What about immortality? Or she is only of our world after all? Now find out. She was filled with disgust at the thought of her husband being lured by another woman. She viewed the Mother as a small shrunken creature. You said you needed the Mother- not me, not the children. She rebuked Matteo for unquestioningly following her.

Broke my Leg on Hike w/BrosNacion -- Piper Rockelle

She diverted all her attention towards Giacomo and Isabel. She would appear to Matteo as a lioness, busy with her cub. Sophie would guard her son even against his father. You will destroy me. They are non-words. Are those your words? After that Matteo became stubbornly silent and whenever they met, Matteo was ill. Their worsening relationship affected both the children.

The children were left in custody of the grandparents who could not bear the mischief of the children and would shout at them. She tries to keep the sniffing to herself and yet the tears run. Towards the end, she finds herself in a predicament and broods over her own life, leading her nowhere. The Mother had proved to be a saint. Matteo, a mystic, but she was nothing. She remembers the dead child and worried mother and finds no possible explanation to her queries.

What else? She stands in sharp contrast to Sophie.

Spells and Rituals

Laila is mystical, having dedicated her life in search of her Master. Her life is a saga of a yearning soul. Laila was born in Egypt. Her mother Alma was worried with her frank ways. She would go out and would not return till night. Her parents were teachers and both were scholarly. But Laila had no interest in books. They would sit waiting for young Laila till night.

Laila would come, eat and would retire to her bed calmly. She would never tell them where she had been. I do nothing, I walk, I play, I look. But I do nothing. Dancing gave her a feeling of freedom. She knew that freedom was natural instinct of all human beings. She should be given choice to do what she likes. She had smashed some of them in her rage, seeing them as emblems of her imprisonment.

She could have born a gypsy child, a foundling they had adopted. Laila could not resist the temptation of roaming the world. She was a mystic. She always took her life as a journey to the Abode of Bliss. At the American college for Girls, she proved an intelligent student in spoken languages but she was fluent in French. But here, she became friendly with Fatimah who was in the group of revolutionary students who launched strike and created violent scenes for freedom from the British.

But he came back with a promise that she would prove herself in the exams and she did. Nobody dared speak to her. She was an old woman who had covered her face in a veil and was never heard speaking. If anybody dared thrust his drained coffee cup, she would enter a brooding trance and by looking into the empty coffee cup, would speak some harsh words.

Nobody could understand her fierce glance. But Laila did. She wanted to know and boldly thrust her drained coffee cup under her face. She predicted. But her mind was tucked in the words of the hagdah and Paris was not a city that stood in water nor it was the place where the gods and goddesses live.

She had set one goal for her life and that was to experience the presence of God. At Paris, she found herself in another imprisonment; she was with her aunt, Francoise who lived there with her husband and four daughters.

The atmosphere of the home was sickening. Everything was covered with silken covers. Windows were always shut. Curtains were always drawn. But it proved failure. Dance for Laila was not only stamping, jumping and swirling in motions, but it was something else. But what she learnt there made her understand the language of the wild beasts. Loitering on the streets, in the markets, she came across the bookshop of Madame Lacan. Concerning those efforts that Everyone expect from you You never want a reward Is it your Love or selflessness? For the hidden affection in you My heart respects you One day you will gain fruit For the effort, you are making You are the woman I am proud!

A woman is like a sun She spreads the knowledge And removes the Darkness With her ability to shine She made the world realize There is no life until The woman shines! Among the many faces That the world has! She set a path that others Can follow and tell the world The women are strong! She can transform a desert Into a beautiful oasis That serves as a resting place Of many travelers who Wants to live their lives.

The Bleeding Sky: My Mother's Journey Through The Fire.

You are born with a Power To change the thoughts And conquer the Hearts. Either her role in education or Her services in Nourishment. Should I explain? Her role As a Mother, or a sister Or as a wife.