As I sit, in silence, With just my soul, I can see the present, More so, than ever before I feel as if I was just born, Unto the mother’s breast All fresh and new, Wrapped in pink,
The unconscious mind, Like a canvas, I paint my life, Wiping away the pain, The tears that have fallen in the past, Is no less, then my healing heart? As if to say with each tear shed, That my destiny has landed in my hands, A whole universe that now accepts me For who I am!
+ JAnn is an award-winning poet. She has written poetry for all ages. Her poetry pertains mostly to love and life issues. She is in the process of writing her next poetry book and her memoir. She has experience in academic writing on all subjects which earn her great respect among her colleagues and professors.+ JAnn is a member of Double Decker Books where her books have been promoted successfully in the past by KayCee K. Wingfield. JAnn was voted poet of the year for 2015 & 2016 by Double Decker Books. JAnn has self-published several poetry books in her past that are now out of publications. Anyone who wishes to read her past work must contact her directly via Social Media.+ JAnn is a strong supporter and advocate in her spare time for Autism Awareness for her disabled son. She is a lover of the 80’s music scene and spends her time listening to random songs from her childhood while she writes. She is also a yogi. She finds comfort in meditating to release the anxiety and daily stress. She is a major coffee drinker and she believes the power of her pen and paper should not be tampered with.
Yes, your name was sliced off from the impasse. I will stand with you to track the continental drift. How little I knew about you and the prosthetic words. Again and again I return to ruins, and the dust and
Silence It’s only when they can’t see, That’s when the tears runs heavy. In the silence i make no sound Though everyone is around. It’s goes on for hours into the next day And the tears still flow anyway I
Silence. He could but dread the feel of it The disturbing silence of children back home as adults Even the sub conscious silence of heavy steps in his broken world of isolation The mocking silence of the crumbled currency lying
Those days, not gone, still within me, Full of love, my mad love-scenes, With fantasies, and fallacies of colorful days, We paved through narrow, secluded streets, Shady meadows, gardens, water-falls, Pubs and coffee-club cabins, you and me, In deep love;