poem

Gratitude...here at home our faith dwindlespolitical division causes tensions to kindle -we should never forgetwho stands at the door -who shields us with armorand shall forever more...

Honor LostAmbulant sunshine piercedthe soot covered glass ~the feeble man wandered byin this ritual morning pass ...

KEY OF LIFEThe key of lifeSymbolizes the mapOf existence.Once you free yourselfFrom all resistance,Your path will become white -For the remainder of the distance.Poetry by Suzy Kassem

Courage brought me here.I desperately tried to dress myself with words.Yet excuses can no longer defend my walls.So here I am.Clueless.Defenseless.But I will tell you this,for this is all you have to know.I love you.Nothing in this life is more worthfighting for than that.

Time is a watchful adversary, who waits enduringly for that merciless hour, hurrying to work the hands of separation.

Always write exactly what you__e feeling at the exact moment when writing something like poetry or an emotional novel. Put yourself, pour all emotions into your work_make yourself cry, feel joy if you are writing joyful things, feel lovey if it calls for it_just put your heart and soul into all that you do_then you will be a good writer when you can make whoever reads your work, feel." -Nina Jean Slack

Flute of BreathDusky condolenceToday i 'll sing youMy Sighs

I wear the universe backwards. I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes. I'm too busy dancing with my imagination to even tip toe with reality for a second. They say I'm going mad. They're right.

The best tourist is one without a camera

The best tourist is one without a camera.

Come, let us speak with our bodies.Teach me how to please you.I am here to learn.Let us not waste this time.It is the hour of union.ComeAnd after you do,Come again.

He drew a circle that shut me out-Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.But love and I had the wit to win:We drew a circle and took him In !From the poem " Outwitted

You are not who you think.You're not even the thinker.You are the one conscious of the thought.

We grooved together with a rhythm so beautiful that I could feel the moment turned into poetry.

And now, for something completely the same:Wasted time and wasted breath,'s what I'll make, until my death.Helping people 'd be as good,but I wouldn't, if I could.For the few that help deserve,have no need, or not the nerve,help from strangers to accept,plus from mine a few have wept.Wept from joy, or from despair,or just from my vengeful stare.Ways I have, to look at stupid,make them see I am not Cupid.Make them see they are in error,for of truth I am a bearer.Most decide I'm just a bear,mauling at them, - like I care.

I don__ believe he deserves the thousands of poems I__e written about him, but life doesn__ follow rules. We do things for people who don__ necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.

Wrote you a poem or two. You didn__ enjoy them, but I did for you.

I__e learned a hundred secrets,a thousand mysteriesand a million more.But of all the lessons I learned,the greatest is love.