width=61 height=87> Perfect Puddles -- Love 1997


When Love Kicks

By: Michael Landrio

No heavy metal, rusty,
rough edged blade slinger
gonna change my mind.
No mud bucket, bad luck,
garbage talkin' man,
gonna take up my time.
Any qustions?
Any answers?
This town has had its share
of delicate dancers,
incurable cancers.
I've had my share of low down days.
Twenty years old,
and alredy set in my ways,
my lonely poetry writin' hard luck days.
Every poet must suffer,
and have one true love, a lover,
who doesn't love him, or love her,
for it's way too sharp a feelin' not to feel,
the pain of love, when it kicks like high heels.
Do I not have you so I can write?
Do I not sleep,
so my thoughts can bother me at night?

Copyright 1997 Michael Landrio

Comments to the author: landrio@telenet.net

Giving Up, Giving In, Giving Out

(The Measure of Love)

By: Michelle Bartley

If you really want to know,
How much love you live,
All you really need to do is,
Ask how much you give!

Do you GIVE up the things you hold,
Deep within your heart,
So someone else can smile again,
To get a brand new start?

Even though you sometimes feel,
Your own walls slip away,
Can you come to realize,
They don't matter anyway?

Or do you keep the tender parts,
Safely tucked in side,
Hidden from their pleading eyes,
Behind your senseless pride?

Do you GIVE in to those in need,
A small yet valued token,
Help to heal a heart that bleeds,
With kind words softly spoken?

Even though you sometimes feel,
Like lashing out in vain,
Can you come to realize,
That harshness causes pain?

Or do you hold them under thumb,
Judge them for things they do,
Berating them relentlessly,
Until they take your view?

Do you GIVE out a bit of light,
When others are in despair,
Adding just a ray of hope,
To show them that you care?

Even though you sometimes feel,
Their gloom is surely due,
Can you come to realize,
The same holds true for you?

Or do you stand above them,
Gloating at the fact,
They finally got what they deserved,
Is your own soul all intact?

If you truly want to know,
How much love you give,
The answers can be surely found,
In how much love you live!

Copyright 1997 Michelle A. Bartley

Comments to the author: dbartley@webbernet.net

Personal Poetry Page Link: The Cafe

What Road To Take

By: Arn Bullock

Seventeen years.

She chose to take another path,
A child.

Forced upon my separate road
I chose marriage which failed,
Found love and was betrayed,
Gazed upon Death's welcoming visage
With cold steel slashing wrists.

Our roads have crossed these
Last eight years,
Twice lovers,
Now friends.

Can we make our paths to intersect-
To run parallel-
To live the rest of life together,
Not loving,
But content with the companionship
of each other. 

Is this the road less traveled by,
That will make all the difference?
Or somewhere ages and ages hence,
If this is the road I take,
Will I be telling this with a sigh,
Regret upon my countenance?

(Reference to "The Road Not Taken," by Robert Frost in last verse)

Copyright 1996 Arn Bullock, Lindsay, Ontario

Comments to the author: abullock@peterboro.net

As Moonlight Falls

By: Paul Puricelli

As moonlight falls
Across the peaceful scene
two lovers lie
in each other's arms

as moonlight falls
a calmness settles
within the minds
of this beautiful couple

as moonlight falls
they pull up close
feeling the warmth
of their partner's touch

as moonlight falls
the stars spread across
the dark black sky
illuminating the ground

As moonlight falls
the world cools off
a brisk wind
streaks across the earth

as moonlight falls
the girl grows restless
shifting herself
pulling in close

as moonlight falls
the boy responds
holding her close
kissing her cheek

as moonlight falls
the two grow close
forming a unity
to remember forever.

Copyright 1997 Paul Puricelli, St. Louis, MO, USA

Comments to the author: pauly22@icon-stl.net

The Masterpiece

By: Michelle Bartley

If I could paint a portrait,
Of this life in which I've led,
And somehow sketch a story,
Of the visions in my head,
I'd start out with a canvas,
Stretched tightly in a frame,
And in the bottom corner,
I'd leave room to sign my name.

I'd buy myself some pigments,
Made of the finest dyes,
Carefully choose my brushes,
And other art supplies,
I would not require a model,
To pose and play a part,
I'd paint for you a picture,
Of what lays within my heart.

I'd stain the backdrop all in black,
To hide a distant past,
Cover up the broken dreams,
Which were not meant to last,
And then I'd add some shades of white,
Then splash it all in gold,
I'd marvel at this painting,
This masterpiece foretold.

But in this soulful picture,
You would see some shades of gray,
Some imperfect human shadows,
Which will never go away,
They lay within the darkness,
Of the corners in my mind,
Stashed away in jaded hopes,
That they'll be left behind.

If I could paint a portrait,
Of this life in which I've led,
And somehow sketch a story,
Of the visions in my head,
I'd prepare for you a river,
Where I wash away my fears,
An ever constant flowing,
Which stem from my own tears.

I'd outline an horizon,
Where the mountains touch the sky,
Beyond the range of yesterday's ,
Where the past's been left to die,
A life which seemed to only serve ,
To smudge a hidden truth,
So real all of that appeared,
Through innocent eyes of youth.

I'd paint for you the setting sun,
Of wasted years left behind,
Now fading from my senseless life,
To clear a shrouded mind,
Those years of constant searching,
For a single ray of light,
That I could hold before me,
To guide me through the night.

And then I'd place the flowers,
Scattered in the field,
Each a different color,
Their meaning not concealed.
Each bloom would stand for feelings,
Of peaceful, loving thoughts,
Sprung up from all the fissures,
From the battles which I fought.

You're the highlights in this portrait,
The inspiring shades of white,
The texture and perspective,
That reflect the rays of light.
Without your patient presence,
In this picture I display,
The colors which are found there,
Would all just fade to gray.

Yes, if I could paint a portrait,
Of this life in which I've led,
And somehow sketch a story,
Of the visions in my head,
Beneath the color and the hue,
The gladness and despair,
Beneath it all, if you look close,
You'll find you're standing there.

Copyright 1997 Michelle A. Bartley

Comments to the author: dbartley@webbernet.net

Personal Poetry Page Link: The Cafe

You Are Sunshine To My Eyes

By: Padington

You are sunshine to my eyes.
The light that warms me,
On a cold winter's day.

You are sunshine to my eyes.
The light that leaves a lasting vision,
Even after you're gone.

You are sunshine to my eyes.
The light that is so far away.
Yet, so painful,
That I cannot look at you
Without closing...
My eyes...

Copyright 1996 Padington
Age 17, North Carolina, USA

Comments to the author: padngton@mail.gld.com

Personal Web Page Link: Padington's Page

To Elena 2

By: John Murvine

Spring wakes...

Melting snow drains from the land
Grants sweet life to hardy boughs
Dark clouds on high,
Bleak wasted sky.

Coaxes trees into full bloom
Brings lush green to chestnut hills
Rain on the wind,
Lightning's coarse din.

Converses with the sleeping mouse
Fresh breath of life within the air
Mired in the mud,
Brown sheltered bud.

Novice sprouts glimpse warming sun
Advance guard of lush flow'ring
Fate persuaded
Life triumphant!

Dusky eyes, fresh flaxen hair
Fairy Queen of timbered wood
Words of love upon your lips
Dainty caressing fingertips.

Comely enchantress, rhythm filled
Cherub of the willow grove
Your winks of faeries friendly games
Grace of bearing none could name.

Rose buds covet your sweet mein
Orchid of the ancient stage
Wind whispered words of noble love
Fly through the snow, dear gentle dove.

Cherished goddess sport through life
Imp of green-boughed forest stands
Precious dear be warm and well
Delicate flower of the dell.

Trials and tears ne'er touch your eyes
Cuddle to my friendly arms
To live is enough
Of a problem to solve.

Copyright 1997 John Murvine

Comments to the author: swr@third-wave.com

Personal Business/Employer Link: SWR, Inc.


By: Alexander B. Hoffman

And just like that the soul of a man is wiped away,
And just like that his heart is left astray,
And just like that he is again in the fray,
As he watches dawn turn to dusk and night to day.

Though in his eyes he can see a better place,
Though in his eyes he wishes for a true embrace,
Though in his eyes which are now void of grace,
And all he wishes is a truthfull embrace.

But derived from the soul he does possess, 
But derived from the lies he's yet confessed,
But derived from the wishes he wants blessed,
And he looks at his love now far from the best.

And just like that a man's soul is wiped away,
Though in his eyes he wishes for a better day,
But derived from pleasure is what makes him stay,
And just like that a man's soul is wiped away.

Copyright 1997 Alexander B. Hoffman, Toronto, Canada

Comments to the author: yu131214@yorku.ca

Color Me Blue

By: Andrew C. White

Color me blue
Make my eyes the night
A rainy day will do me just fine
But any way you slice it
BB King does it the best
Paint my heart or yours, with the sadness around us
But whatever you do don't let me fall in love
Please slice me a big piece and some Ice cream on the side
Swallow it down and keep it quiet to her
I think that she's really cool, or hot, or sweet, or beautiful
But she shades me
And makes me Blue

Copyright 1997 Andrew C. White

Comments to the author: acw3@hotmail.com

The Wolf

By: Alan W. Goodson

Silent against the night, dark coat
shimmering blackly, reflected by trails of tears
in dark alleys of fear held close to the heart of all
who feel his shadow caressing their pain.

Eyes shining through devastated dreams of love
found shattered against the cold hard stone
of unfaithful demons professing everlasting devotion,
but to none other than themselves.

Feeding upon the lies and immoral meanderings
of heartless thieves who steal hope from promises,
leaving behind empty shells to gather the remains
of misplaced desires turned to dust.

Teeth glinting bright, but stained with the blood
of passion spent foolishly on empty souls,
who are bound only by their profane vows of
unholy matrimony to their own selfish compulsions.

Sniffing the air, savoring the stench of shattered lives,
laying to rot in the emotional gutter of discontent,
where colorless rainbows lead only to pots of
tarnished coins turning quickly to rust.

Prowling stealthily through the debris of innocence forsaken,
discarded and forever lost to the wrath of wanton lust,
tearing at the throat of soft victims held helpless beneath
the strength of dark angels of desire.

The Wolf, dark scavenger of broken hearts,
lies in satiated repose, having fed on feasts of
anguish, dreams quietly through the day,
knowing the night comes quickly and the hunt goes on.

Copyright 1997 Alan W. Goodson

Comments to the author: arkrebel@mail.snider.net

Personal Poetry Page Link: The Cabin

Forever Friend

By: Teena M. Brown

Once I had the recklessness to hope,
I dared to lift my face up to the sun
And suddenly I held in trembling hands
A miracle.

You came into my life, a radiant light,
A whisper in the lonely night,
A shining star,
And even with my arms held open wide
I couldn't hold a tenth of what you gave.

I looked to find the reasons to explain
This confluence of minds,
Too precious to confine to mere coincidence.
What act had I performed to justify
This pouring down of blessings on my head?

Could it be that God has smiled on me
And weighed my secret yearnings in His hand?
Could He have moved my feet upon the path
That led to you?

And maybe within you there lies
A longing only I could fill.

I cannot say what purposes are fixed in us
Or where tomorrow will take us from here
But this I know:
I'll never find another one like you
Or feel the same inexplicable sweetness
That I have known just learning to love you.
Such gifts are only given once.

So, today, I make you this promise,
That whatever barriers rise up between us,
Whatever wedges drive us apart,
In the end I will still come looking,
Ever searching to find
The friend who has opened my eyes,
Cheered my soul,
And claimed my heart.

Copyright 1997 Teena M. Brown

Comments to the author: brown@tcd.net

One Chance

By: Kurt Fough

I admired you from a distance,
had thoughts of touching,
but felt there would be resistance.
Thinking what life would be,
me and you in a place of solitude,
from now 'til eternity.

When will this time arrive,
the day my dreams end,
and maybe you as my future bride.
Could this be?
I ask myself,
or would you even consider me?

Questions that are unanswered.
I search for solutions,
but in return
get thoughts that are tampered.

Your voice left a lasting impression.
A sound so sweet,
I felt it was an obsession.
Wanting pleasures of the flesh I hold,
just being with you,
hoping someday they will unfold.

Your smile is like the ocean blue,
just remember one chance will do.

Copyright 1997 Kurt Fough


By: James Smiddy

Fields of ivory, pastures of lace
who has control over this demonic race
Ice gripped hands pick flowers of love
to be shot down from demons above
Eyes of red somber do smile with wonder
when longing and desire are grim bedmates

Ships of destiny and sailors of fate
whose misty hearts will forever ache
Mountain of glory, valley of death
the traps of lovers are forever set
What no man shall know or woman shall hold
is the one true love that is meant for all

Copyright 1997 James Smiddy

Comments to the author: jsmiddy@jvsenterprises.com