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Secret Love
by SashaMirage

They meet in the garden behind the castle at the stroke of midnight
Her heart begins to race as he takes her by the hand
His warm touch comforts her as she looks upon his face, against the light
Their love is truly forbidden as he came from a foreign land

She gazes deep into her lover's eyes wishing for their love to last
Anticipating the moment he will come take her away with him forever
From the look in her eyes he knew that their love will soon combust
Taking her with him to sail through the storm across the border

Rose petals unfurl and fall to the ground surrounding them with beauty
Mesmerized by the magic and the scent of the rose she falls into his arms
Moments of passion overcome them taking them to a higher degree
The warm night embraces the sweetness delight of the secret love charm

Chimes blow in the wind playing a magical tune as they begin to dance
Hypnotized by the music of their love, drunk from the love in his eyes
The rhythm of the drum beats into their hearts and puts them in a trance
As he held her close they began to afloat where the gravity defies

Standing off the ground, heaven they have found, feeling high above
visions of what they've painted spreaded out on a beautiful canvas
The stars in sky are aligned; as they fulfill a promise of eternal love
Butterfly wings take flight inside, leaving her so breathless

Hey cayon, you came really, you saw and you conquered. keep it up

Cayon:

Secret Love
by SashaMirage

They meet in the garden behind the castle at the stroke of midnight
Her heart begins to race as he takes her by the hand

She gazes deep into her lover's eyes wishing for their love to last
Anticipating the moment he will come take her away with him forever

The warm night embraces the sweetness delight of the secret love charm

Chimes blow in the wind playing a magical tune as they begin to dance
Hypnotized by the music of their love, drunk from the love in his eyes
The rhythm of the drum beats into their hearts and puts them in a trance

Reminds me of Romeo and Juliet

Irma is feeling alone and sad. She is in front of her computer, trying to write, but could not. She opens up another tab to see what is on the news, what is on the papers, but nothing seems to interest her today. Her thoughts go back to Marco. He is sick. He has been having pain in his stomach and has been to the ER the other day, but without success at any real diagnosis that could tell both what was wrong in his body. He then went to another and they told him to take some pills. He has gastritis. He took the pills but nothing changed with his situation. The doctors told him that if after two days, his condition remains the same, that he should go back to the clinic so they could do further tests on him. Irma is scared that it might be something else; something lethal, irreversible, cancer.

Irma’s father had his brush with fate four years ago when he was diagnosed with colon cancer, at 75. He died two months shortly. Irma is scared to lose Marco in the same manner. She tries to distract herself today by reading articles in the New York Times. She browses through its pages on the internet and couldn’t find anything interesting to read. She stares at the front page, lets her eyes wander idly through the maze of letters and words in differing font sizes, some emboldened, some italized, all in blacks and blues, but nothing seems to catch her attention. Her mind is on Marco. She inspects the page once more, there must be something interesting to read, she tells herself but her eyes just wander off again, to photographs this time.
She sees a photograph of an old town. The headline reads The New Old Mexico. She clicks on the article and begins to read. The story is about a town called San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. It is, they say, a beautiful bohemia where American expats have moved from time and time again. They have built themselves an enclave it seems, in an ancient part of Mexico, with locals, fellow expats, young and old, a new Starbucks on Salem Street even, and some jovial and neighborly locals that, the NY Times reported, are welcoming to every new comer from all walks of life.

Everyone seems happy there. Irma thought that she and Marco would be happy there too, someday--when they retire--for it is just the kind of place that they would both enjoy. The photographs show a picturesque city, with cobble stone paved roads, locals with guitars slung on their shoulders riding donkeys, artsy Americans clad in all black walking their expensive Pomeranians ala New York mode, young Mexican girls wandering the streets alone, old Spanish cathedrals and villas, undulating roads lined with small cafes here and there, green trees, warm weather, the sun.

She wants to email him the article, just as she has always done in the past when she reads something interesting that she knows he would enjoy reading as well. But today she did not. Now she feels that it remains to be seen whether she and Marco would indeed be able to reach retirement. The prospectus for both to arrive at this stage would be old age. Today, she is unsure more than ever, whether she would reach old age with Marco considering that they both don’t know yet what is wrong with him. She emails the article to her mother instead and tells her maybe you could move there someday when you retire.

They all say that physical pain is somewhat a manifestation of psychological traumas, of psychological ills; bad and haunting memories that one couldn’t forget about perhaps or maybe sadness, unhappiness. She read once in a magazine that just like all cancers start with irritation-- where a cell goes bad, a neighboring cell gets infected with the bad cell’s karma, and on and on it goes until an entire organ gets defeated, until the whole body surrenders, until there’s nothing left but a cadaver-- a man’s spirit could also be wholly taken down by a single nagging heartbreak. Like a disease, the heartbreak spreads all throughout one’s body until one’s organs actually succumb to an actual disease and fail.

Could Marco be unhappy? She browses through the pages again, this time with a certain frenetic calm that only occurs to people who are alone and conflicted. She is alone. If they were still in New York, she would immediately phone her friends to meet for coffee, or tea, or beers, a joint, a line or two: anything to make her happy again at least, in the meantime, as she awaits Marco’s return home. But she is in London and very much alone. Unlike the expats in San Miguel de Allende, she is far from the welcoming arms of its city’s strangers, or a novel bohemia, or a misplaced rural Starbucks chain, or especially, a real prospect of retiring at San Miguel de Allende itself, now that there seems to be a real threat to Marco’s health.

Death. She thinks of death and Marco. What would she do if he dies? What if its cancer? What if she loses him? She moved to London and left everything In New York. They had just moved in London and now everything seems to be falling apart with this sudden unexplainable illness. What should she do if he dies?

She browses the New York Times again and this time sees a film review of a teenage vampire movie. Momentarily, she seems to forget her cares, chuckles, and tells herself, oh another one of those teenage vampire flicks. But Manohla Dargis wrote the review. She remembers Manohla Dargis’ pieces in The Village Voice and Irma likes her critiques. She is a good reviewer, she reminds herself. So she reads on.

The reviewer seems to like the film from what she wrote and there in the page are the clips of the movie. She clicks on and watches a clip and sees the trailer. You could see the young vampires fly and fight each other off in mid-air; the soundtrack and the shots are quirky, full of energy, lively. They are alive, very alive in fact, she observes. Vampires after all are least concerned about death. Vampire movies, if any, are always about being alive. Every time she sees one she feels a pang of jealousy for they are all immortal and she would like to be one herself because she is not. The vampire boy, however pale he is, is beautiful. Here is a super human. He will live forever. To die is human but to live forever divine, she tells herself. She thinks of Marco and wishes that he were a vampire. She wishes that both of them were vampires. If they were, they would be able to live forever and could choose several cities to retire to, different countries to live in on different times, or several lives and personas for every hundred of years that they are alive.

She sighs a desperate sigh for they are not vampires but humans. Irma’s thoughts now wander off to the Killers song Humans, how wonderful the tune is. How well written and simple the message is. How both she and Marco would listen to it over and over again when the album first came out. Her attention goes back to the page where the clips are, she watches them again and for a second feels herself falling in love with the actor (or with the vampire?). She thinks of death again and Marco and tells her self maybe if he dies, I would meet this actor, this vampire. She feels excitement for a second, watches the clip again, and smiles a wistful but lonely smile.

life is death,
death is life,
all is nothing,
nothing is all,
all that matters is energy,
energy is nothing.

bluespice:

life is death,
death is life,
all is nothing,
nothing is all,
all that matters is energy,
energy is nothing.

Blackberry Mollases
by hazeleyez

Sweeter than any Man I've ever known, 
Will you feed this empty body of mine?
With the love and tenderness that makes my soul moan, 
Blacker than any dark knight
Yet brighter than any shining sun, 
For I cannot breathe without the scent you possess
Now that I know that you're the one, 

Raw is your touch upon my back
Gentle as the nibble you give my ear, 
Sweet is the kiss you lay upon my brow
Ever so slowly you wipe away my tear, 

Where have you been all my life?
I never knew love like this before, 
My eyes were so shy when we crossed paths
As the days pass, I'm anxious to find what you have in store, 

Blackberry Mollases
Sweeter than a sweet song from a dove, 
Where have you been all my life?
I never knew there could be such a precious love, 


copyright by hazeleyez

You said it with such passion,
You said with such care,
I didn't know you'd do this,
This shit just don't seem fair.
Told me you'd come over,
I waited for your call,
I waited till I grew sleepy,
Realized you wouldn't show at all.

I thought that they were lying,
They said my man wasn't mine,
Now I lay here nearly crying,
Got shivers climbing up my spine.

I tried so hard to remember,
When was the last time we made love,
And suddenly it hit me,
You refused me with a shove.

You pretended you were angry,
But it was all a front,
Probably was out creepin',
Instead of chillin, smoking blunts.

You really had me going,
I thought it was just me,
You were tellin' me to move on,
But I just wouldn't let you be.

So, instead of just saying it,
You started playing games,
One night I peeked through your cell phone,
And say all these bitches names.

Nigga, you ain't nothing,
You think you got a fool,
You been playing with my emotions,
No, this shit ain't cool.

I'm tired of your lying,
You aught to be ashamed,
I see your kind all the time,
And myself, is who I blamed.

Don't think I never notice,
When your sleeping in my bed,
That you smell like you been fucking,
Or some bitch been giving you head.

I passed it off as suspicion,
Of what I thought couldn't be,
I have to admit that I was gullible,
For this once, you made a fool of me.

I must understand now,
That you're no different from the rest.
I now know not to trust so easily,
This relationship was just a test.

It's over now, I know this,
Just remember, you've been warned.
This is really the beginning,
Cause now, I'm a woman scorned, 


copyright by hazeleyez-2000

Lord,
Please make me a man,
One who understands my fears,
One who wipes away my tears.
One who knows my body's curves,
One who calms my fragile nerves.

Can he be as smart as me?
Will he have wavy hair?
Can you give him a go-tee,
And maybe a sparkle in his stare?

Oh, please make him understanding,
When at times I'm not in the mood,
Please give him lots of patience,
Give him manners, don't make him crude.

Add a drop of sternness,
And a sprinkle of control,
Give him sturdy hands,
To massage the worries from my soul.

Of course I'd like him honest,
He could never tell a lie,
And it would be nice for him to cook,
Maybe bake me a sweet potato pie.

Can you make him sensitive,
To all my feminine needs?
Will he shield me from all evil?
Clean my cut, when it bleeds?

I hope I'm not asking too much,
If I say that I need unconditional love,
I'd like for him to shower me with kisses,
And sing me sweet songs, like a dove.

It's important that he be faithful,
Can't let his body stray,
Please make him open-minded,
Not always seeing things his own way.

I don't care if he has big ears,
As long as he will listen,
It's more important that he cares,
Makes me smile, and makes my eyes glisten.

Lord, please make him trust me,
Any time that I go away,
For he is always with me,
He should believe every word I say.

Can't forget to make him a good father,
Build a strong and stable home,
To always set a good example,
And from their lives, he'd never roam.

And most importantly,
He must believe in you.
For without you, he could never be,
Together we will praise you, I'm thankful you gave him to me

copyright by hazeleyez-2000

Goodbye
by hazeleyez

Today I received a phone call
I listened to your message over and over again.
No we can't get back together,
No we can never be friends.
I'm sorry I had to hurt you
I know it don't seem fair.
I tried to let him go,
And I tried to keep you near.

It took me this long to realize,
That you were just a faze for me.
I know this sh*t is hurtin' you,
And that is why I gotta let you be.

I can't face you, knowing,
That all along we would never last.
I know it's not your fault,
I couldn't let go of the past.

You need to just move on,
Take this as a lesson learned.
Can't you see I'll hurt you again,
Don't you know that you'll get burned?

You wish that things could be different.
I wish things stayed the same.
Who would ever have known,
That I would call you his name.

I can't say that I never loved you,
That would be a lie,
But can't you see I'm no good for you?
When all I do is make you cry.

Every gift that you bought me,
I threw them all away,
I can't remember anything about you,
In my heart you can never stay.

Must I be so blunt,
I don't want to be this callous
But constantly ringing my phone,
You causing me to react with malice.

Stop writing me love letters,
Stop sending flowers to my job,
If I were to ever kiss you again,
Can't you see it's your heart that I'd rob?

I know in time you'll get over,
All this hurt and pain,
I hope one day you'll see sunshine,
I hope someone new will stop the rain.

Until then you gotta shake this,
No matter how much you wanna turn back.
You have to start all over,
Get your life back on track.

Don't even wonder about me,
Keep me out of your mind, please try.
I cannot explain the reasons,
It would take a week for me to explain why.

This is the last you'll hear from me,
I'm moving outta town,
He said he wants to marry me,
I can no longer have you around.

Goodbye,

epi:

Goodbye
by hazeleyez

I can't say that I never loved you,
That would be a lie,
But can't you see I'm no good for you?
When all I do is make you cry.

This is the last you'll hear from me,
I'm moving outta town,
He said he wants to marry me,
I can no longer have you around.

Goodbye,

And they said guys were players.
Nice poem all the same. . .