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Our purpose is to educate as well as to entertain.

quote by Curtis Mayfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chaos, Order, Chaos, Beauty And Ugliness...

beauty must a purpose
have, for instance beauty that
gives peace and
harmony to the world,

presumably this world is a world of chaos,
and chaos is wanton
and understood to be messy and
undesirable, makes the mind
to lack the necessary focus

but what is focus for? what is thinking for?
again, you return to purpose
focus must have a purpose
and thinking must have another purpose

but what is the purpose of purpose?
seems that purpose is beauty
and that purpose without beauty is not desirable,

and so on and so forth,
people get so confused, they want order as though order itself is
beauty
as though it is one purpose that we need,

the universe must have an order
a system, every planet orbiting around the sun must have
a purpose
as though they are human beings like us
as though they are us

look at this poem, read it so well,
it has no purpose but to make you think
make you doubt

that perhaps beauty to be beauty must be wanton
and chaotic, which by itself is a reality
and reality is always
beautiful,
it has always a purpose and this is what you think it to be

right now, but is this really so?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Educate Me

Mutual act,
Mutual flight,
Mutual love,
Mutual speech;
But, your report is often on your tape!
However, take a meritorious effort to reach out to the skies and,
Bo not open your legs so easily on every bed.

What is my sin to you?
And like your report on every tape;
But, try to take a meritorious effort to reach out to me!
And, try to educate me with the muse of your love.

What is my sin to you?
Please, help me to know it;
What is my mark to you?
Please, help me to see it;
Where is my school located?
Please, tell me if you know;
For this house is a catch to the eyes!
So, don't open your legs so easily on every bed.

The ball is often to the bat!
And this dfance is often at the tail;
But your nose knows the true story around,
For, your muse is always my passion.

Tell me if you know,
Tell me if your care,
And educate me with the muse of your love;
But watch out! ! For, your neighbour's hand is on the gun.

Your own time will come and,
My own time will come as well;
But, educate me with the muse of your love!
For, i am ready to learn.

be very patience with your dreams and work towards them always,
For, i have one way love towards you in this land of peace;
So, come and educate me with themuse of your love!
And with your scholarly approach to enhance my status-quo.

Of my ego to move on,
Of your love to guide me on to reach out to my dreams! !
So, come and educate me with the muse of your love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Begin the Mending of Unreasoning

There is a purpose behind a reason,
That plots from a reasoning...
Its purpose.

She has been seducing him,
Since the beginning of their childhood.
She practiced technique with her daddy.
And daddy practiced patience and understanding.
She liked that about her daddy.

He was torn between Magic, Shaq and Kobe!
'Yeah, but that Michael will always be the best! '
He was a sportsman!
And she fell asleep in his lap!
Just like she did,
When daddy did that!

He thought he knew what he was getting into.
Until she wanted more of what he could not prove,
He could do.
So he screwed her that night...
And he left not to return.

There is a purpose behind a reason,
That plots from a reasoning...
Its purpose.

It did not take her long to realize,
She paralyzed their love!
She criticized his lovemaking acts.
And reacted as if he was not there at all.
Feelings had been among the missing,
For days...
In the forest of hidden misunderstandings.

With her face towards the wall...
Expecting him to communicate,
'Her' feelings he could not possibly feel!
She did not make them real to him!
She felt hurt!
And he was suppose to know!
Or at least pretended to care?
He snored loudly!

'Could romance be slipping from the booty calls? '
He thought as he was swept with anguish!
Thinking with sincere sentiments...
'She crazy as hell,
If she think I'm gonna try and 'be' Denzel.'

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If you educate a man you educate a person, but if you educate a woman you educate a family.

quote by Ruby Manikan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Do Yourself A Favor

Isolated junk yard
Letting out the garbage
Eating through the core of life
Sweet fragrance irritates
In a state room death awaits
Persecute your own self-pride
Suffocate the new high
Ride the thorny mule that cries
Dig your grave and step right in
Like a judas pay the price
30 pieces for a ride
Heres the fire take a chew
Do yourself a favour
Educate your mind
Get yourself together
Hey there aint much time
Do yourself a favour
Educate your mind
Get yourself together
Hey there aint much time
Shredded know-how give away
Species of the human race
Those funky winds of ups and downs
Hall of grit is known too well
Heaven still is your hell
Poison slowly slowly drowns
Let the devil step right in
Lucifers your only friend
Aint a soul gon pity you
Hurdly over time to death
With open arms it waits I bet
Dont you wish you could reach ground?
Do yourself a favour
Educate your mind
Get yourself together
Hey there aint much time
Do yourself a favour
Educate your mind
Get yourself together
Hey there aint much time

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lament for Zenocrate

Black is the beauty of the brightest day,
The golden belle of heaven's eternal fire,
That danced with glory on the silver waves,
Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams:
And all with faintness and for foul disgrace,
He binds his temples with a frowning cloud,
Ready to darken earth with endless night:
Zenocrate that gave him light and life,
Whose eyes shot fire from their ivory bowers,
And tempered every soul with lively heat,
Now by the malice of the angry skies,
Whose jealousy admits no second mate,
Draws in the comfort of her latest breath
All dazzled with the hellish mists of death.
Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven,
As sentinels to warn th'immortal souls,
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps
That gently looked upon this loathsome earth,
Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heavens
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
The crystal springs whose taste illuminates
Refined eyes with an eternal sight,
Like tried silver runs through Paradise
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
The Cherubins and holy Seraphins
That sing and play before the King of Kings,
Use all their voices and their instruments
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
And in this sweet and curious harmony,
The God that tunes this music to our souls,
Holds out his hand in highest majesty
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts,
Up to the palace of th'imperial heaven:
That this my life may be as short to me
As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.

poem by Christopher Marlowe
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Welcomed Into the Family of Comprehension

Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.

Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.

What hand reaching out to shake,
Does not support that?
What prolonged heartbreak,
Would stay wallowing in sorrow?
To borrow an excuse,
Or a chance not to view agony?
Close up and into a tear stained face.
You should not want that reflecting...
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!

No thing is detached,
That keeps an attraction from coming back.
Something is attached to that.
And seriously repeated.

When done,
The meaning of that purpose...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Find It. Your Purpose

Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.

It is difficult to be oneself,
And declare oneself to 'be'.
It is much easier to locate acceptance,
When approval from others...
Does not threaten,
A routine enjoyed with unchanged beliefs.

Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.

And once it is recognized...
Be prepared to be criticized.
Be prepared to be humble too...
When a strength felt opens your eyes.
But never be apologetic,
For those steps you make.
Moving forward has been known,
To cause many heartache.

But find it,
You must...
Your purpose.
And trust that it is...
Your purpose!

And...
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Once it has been discovered,
Your purpose...
Will open and broaden your mind.

Finding one's purpose,
Does this every time!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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God Viewed As Exclusive Property

Many people
seem to believe
that God is

the exclusive property

of only
their religion
their denomination

their exclusive property.

But is this true?

How do we test
this mindset
discrimination?

“And God loved the world so much
that he gave his only-begotten Son,
in order that everyone exercising
faith in him might not be destroyed
but have everlasting life.” John 3: 16

God’s Word is the exclusive authority.
God belongs to “everyone exercising
faith in him”. But for what purpose?

What is the reason, the purpose of God?

“And he proceeded to say to them: “To
You the sacred secret of the kingdom of
God as been given, but to those outside
all things occur in illustrations” Mark 4: 11

“Adonai made everything for its purpose, even
the wicked for the day of disaster” Proverbs 16: 4

But God works in mysterious ways,
therefore who can know his purpose?

Now “we now that God causes everything
to work together (cooperate) for the good
of those who love God and (who) are called
in accordance with his purpose” Romans 8: 28

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Smell Like Teen Spirt

Load up on guns and bring your friends
its fun to lose and to pretend
She's over bored and self assured
oh ,no ,I know a dirty word
(chorus)
hello ,hello,hello,how low
hello,hello, hello,how low
hello,hello,hello,how low
hello,hello,hello.....
with the lights out its less dangerous
here,we are now ,entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
here,we are now entertain us
A malotto,An albino,A mosquito
My libido
Yay.......yay
I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift i feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end
(chorus)
And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah,I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard its hard to find
Oh well,whatever, nevermind
(chorus)
(chorus)
hello ,hello,hello,how low?
hello,hello, hello,how low?
hello,hello,hello,how low?
hello,hello,hello.....
with the lights out its less dangerous
here,we are now ,entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
here,we are now entertain us
A mulatto,An albino,A mosquito
My libido
A denial (9x)

song performed by Nirvana
Added by Lucian Velea
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Entertain Me, Death / Zabavi Me, Smrti

‘Entertain me’ he shatteredly said,
‘I am a tired king dying
Just a heartbeat away from nothing
Bring me the fool the death to juggle
The boredom is biting my lips
The scorn so dumb is choking me.’

And the fool came
Yes, the fool will always be the fool
He rolled his eyes
He threw the balls
Colourful high up into the air
He said:
‘I am a fool my king
You are my wire walker
I spread it far upon the sky
From one world’s end to another
Towards the death itself.’

‘Entertain me’, he shatterdly said,
‘I’m a tired king walking on the wire
Bering me the death to see its gown
Its blade so sharp upon the dawn
The boredom is biting my lips
The scorn so dumb is choking me.’

And the death came in clattering chains
The dance of vengeful laughter it danced
Beyond an open emptiness
‘Entertain me’, it shatterdly said,
‘Entertain me, please, do it
I’m a tired king walking on the wire
The scorn so dumb is choking me.’

Zabavi me raspuknuto reč e
Ja sam umoran kralj na umorutak otkucaj
Dovedite mi ludu da zaigra smrt
Dosada nagriza usne
I prezir me tupi guši

I dođ e luda
Da, luda ko luda
Zakoluta oč ima šarene loptice
Visoko u vazduh baci
Reč e:
'Ja sam luda o kralju moj
A ti si ti si moj igrač na žici
Nebom je posavljam dakelo
S kraja na kraj svijeta
Pa sve do same smrti.'

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Poet Sajid Khan's Background.

Our Background

We have figured out what is wisdom and how it can be created on a mass scale.

Wisdom is the wealth of intelligence and just like wealth, wisdom is
nothing on its own! Just like wealth has to be in something else like
gold, real estate, stocks, bank balance etc. Again wisdom is like a
house. A house is the sum of its parts. A house is nothing without its
building blocks. Similarly wisdom is nothing without/but its building
blocks. The building block of wisdom is selflessness. By creating
selflessness we create wisdom.

We have quantified the mind and now emotions can be measured. We are
founders of Wisdom Day, Pure Happiness Seminars, 'Who am I' seminars,
'Third Eye' seminars. We have developed the idea of 'WisdomLand',
'Brain Power Clubs', 'Shy Power Club' and The Wisdom Express. We even
have wisdom toys.

The world is at a loss of how to solve the economic mess. We have the
answers. The human self runs on two wheels. One is intelligence and
the other is emotional-intelligence/wisdom. For intelligence we have
hundreds of subjects and for emotional-intelligence/wisdom we have
zero subjects. As a result we educate only half our brains. Naturally
the wheel of emotional intelligence is punctured. And every time we
try to fix this education mess we go back to improving intelligence
education. Leaving emotional intelligence as punctured as ever;
resulting in developing imperfect minds and imperfect brains for over
80% of the population.

Michael Gazzaniga the foremost expert on the brain and mind concludes
in his latest best seller, for a call to arms. “Understanding how to
develop a vocabulary for these layered interactions (between the left
and right brain and between brain and mind) , for me, ” he writes,
“constitutes the scientific problem of the century.” This is exactly
the problem we recognized 40 years ago and we have now solved.

We have figured out the difference between brain and mind. The
education mess is due to the fact man has cutting edge education to
educate the mind and has no idea how to educate the brain. In simple
terms one can say that we keep our homes clean; we keep our cars and
our offices spic and span and when it comes to our own brains and
minds we keep them dirty; full of defective memories/knowledge. We
have developed education for cleaning up the brain.

We have invented this whole new wisdom industry that will generate
wisdom education, creation of text books, with exercises and lessons,
training for teachers and parents, and 'pure happiness' counselors
etc., wisdom coaching for adults, groups and countries, toys that
teach wisdom, wisdom computer games, comic books, children stories,
sitcoms, TV talk shows, movies etc.; and Wisdom Theme Parks, Wisdom

[...] Read more

poem by Sajid Khan
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Kiss Your Ass

What time should I pick you up tonight
To make me seem more selectable
What kind of flowers should I bring your mother
To make me seem more delectable
I got no problem with family events
I like lemonade, camping, kids, and tents
Ill do anything you ask
No matter the task
My whole purpose on earth
Is just to
Kiss your ass
What kind of drugs should I take tonight
To make me seem like Im introverted
What kind of porn mags should I bring your brother
To make me seem like Im still perverted
I got no problem with family events
I like lemonade, camping, kids, and tents
Ill do anything you ask
No matter the task
My whole purpose on earth
Is just to
Kiss your ass
Teach me something I dont know
But I swear Ill be something someday
I strain my ears listening too hard to what you say
How then ? ? time should I cruise your block
On my tiny red tricycle
Screaming your name sweet heart in vain
This ? ? ? ? has got me in a pickle
I got no problem with family events
I like lemonade, camping, kids, and tents
Ill do anything you ask
No matter the task
? ? ? ? ?
Youll be promiscuous
And Ill be ? ?
Cuz my whole purpose on earth
My whole purpose on earth
My whole purpose on earth
My whole purpose on earth
My whole purpose on earth
Is just to kiss your ass

song performed by Jewel
Added by Lucian Velea
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Keep The Intent Of Your Purpose

Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.

Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.

It is difficult enough,
To constantly be bombarded...
From those events,
That fuss things up.

It's enough to want to cuss,
Everything believed to be corrupt.
But that 'outside' stuff that is happening...
Has a meaning that should awaken all of us.

Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.

Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.

Each day collect pieces,
Of your sanity.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Be gentle and easily allow yourself to breathe.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Complementary viewpoints for friend Chandra

Philosophy and poetry
are not completely different.
Each represents a way to see
What is not always evident.

Philosophers and poets try
to understand the universe.
The answers which they can supply.
Expressed in turgid prose or verse.

Philosophers can be abstruse
and difficult to understand
Because of how they phrase their views.
I don’t dismiss them out of hand.

I much prefer the poets verse
To endless reams of complex prose.
I do not think I am perverse
Simplicity I must suppose.

Is really what appeals to me.
the poets seek to entertain
and yet express with clarity.
Philosophers try to explain.

Their reasoning in great detail.
They just succeed in boring me
Their efforts are to no avail
I will admit quite openly

I simply cannot spare the time
To plough through densely written prose.
But I find poetry sublime
I like the way it ebbs and flows.

The insight that a poet shows
can entertain and educate.
Philosophers try to impose
their views, discouraging debate.

Which does not sit too well with me.
Folks can’t stand being patronised
and will rebel instinctively.
A fact that poets recognise.

They are content to share their thoughts.
With anyone who chooses to
read the verses they have wrought.
Which may express a different view

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your Purpose of Living

The master of purpose does not
respect certificate or degree;
He only respect people
with purpose in life.

Purpose is the gate fee
to success land.
Purpose is your direction.
Purpose is an objective in life,
dream, and what you are here for.

You cannot move on in life
until you have discovered
your objectives in life,
which is your purpose of living.

poem by Franca Kenneth
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Give Me You

Give me a front porch with a summer breeze
Give me "Yes Ma'am", "No Sir" and "Thank you",
"Please"
Give me a hero who don't lie, steal or cheat
And a little good news
Give me Christmas through children's eyes
One vacation good as advertised
Most of all, as if it's any surprise
Baby, give me you
At the top of my list of life's good things
Is the pleasure and purpose your love brings
And of all that I hold near to me
That's real and right and true
Give me you , Give me you
Give me a day not so prearranged
In fact, give me the phone my plans have changed
Give me a break from chasin' dollars today
Baby, give me you
At the top of my list of life's good things
Is the pleasure and purpose your love brings
And of all that I hold near to me
That's real and right and true
Give me you , Give me you
At the top of my list of life's good things
Is the pleasure and purpose your love brings
And of all that I hold near to me
That's real and right and true
Give me you , Give me you
Baby, give me you, Give me, give me you
Give me a front porch with a summer breeze
Give me "Yes Ma'am", "No Sir" and "Thank you",
"Please"
Give me a hero who don't lie, steal or cheat
And a little good news
Give me Christmas through children's eyes
One vacation good as advertised
Most of all, as if it's any surprise
Baby, give me you
At the top of my list of life's good things
Is the pleasure and purpose your love brings
And of all that I hold near to me
That's real and right and true
Give me you , Give me you
Give me a day not so prearranged
In fact, give me the phone my plans have changed
Give me a break from chasin' dollars today
Baby, give me you
At the top of my list of life's good things
Is the pleasure and purpose your love brings
And of all that I hold near to me

[...] Read more

song performed by Trace Adkins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Eaten In Eden

Eve, the Mother of Mothers,
Woken from her first sleep,
Thoughts coursing through her brain,
Accepting every sight and sound,
Sensing the presence of her humanity...

This form was all she was,
It ended there beyond herself,
Yet there before her some likeness,
Some extra humanity...

Words within her telling her things,
Recognising colours and forms,
Seeing flying birds and crawling creatures,
Seeing eyes looking back at her...

Ears, what were these hidden in her hair?
Detectors of left and right events,
Alert to buzzing of bees, eagles landing,
Her own movements across the grass...

And hands and feet, shaped alike,
Fit for purpose, yet what purpose?
Then there were bones within warm skin,
Yet even more, blue lines above bones.

Strange endings, nails, hard skins,
Fingers and toes curling, gripping,
Chest curves hiding the human heart,
More bones front and back,
Being able to twist left and right...

Hair, strange, without senses, dead,
Like twigs on trees, hanging down,
Then an awareness of something,
There between two eyes, a shape,
A mere blur when the eyes are open,
One eye closed and it appears...

And what is that drawing in and forcing out?
The chest filling and emptying,
Yet again, for what purpose?
Oh, my, the amazing concept of the head,
A heavy rock to carry, perhaps for balance?

And a falling gap for thoughts to share,
Leaving her head to venture forth,
And thus she talks and walks to Adam,
To be touched and embraced, softly,
To feel the warmth of his skin...

[...] Read more

poem by Denis Martindale
Added by Poetry Lover
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