Love and hate

Love may be
What it is not
But it also may be
What it is
When we think of love
We find peace
But also we find sorrow
For when you love
Hate follows closely behind
Holding its hand
Kissing it softly
Love is a battle
A battle worth fighting
But can love avail
When hate clings on so desperately 

"Do it Anyway" Poem from Blessed Mother's Teresa~ 

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

~Mother Teresa

mother doesn't see me............

Mother knows me physically , yet she does not know me mentally . 
She sees a son she loves , but hides the one she hates . 
Simple words exchange between us and she caressed my hair not knowing that our thoughts prevail on different lands .Strangers from the same blood the same heart separated by thoughts. Mother does not see me she only shes my shadow . She wonders if she has gone blind when in reality she covers her own eyes as if to remove her hands and find the child she imagined she would have . Mother face me like you face everyday you take on as a single parent . Let me show you what a good child i've become when really im imperfect . 

SWEET DREAMS

, 

Wake up sweating in your bed
Hear the screaming of the dead. 
Through the vents the spiders crawl, 
In seconds covering every wall. 

Get up, get out for fear has struck. 
You scream and shout but you are stuck. 
Paralyzed with fear you are, 
But it's not over, not by far. 

Up your body, to your chest, 
Hairy legs stampeding. 
Eyes open wide with great protest, 
Heavy shallow breathing. 

Finally you can move again, 
Eight legged beasts now at your chin. 
To the floor, dart out your room, 
Ghastly moaning figures loom. 

Don't look now, but bats are swarming, 
Papers whirling, winds are forming. 
Doors are opening and closing, 
Skeletons walk, so imposing! 
No hope now, the dead are stirring, 
Walls are bleeding, fiends are lurking. 
cross the walls, the creatures climbing, 
Chilling sounds of children crying! 

Heart is pounding, pulse is racing, 
Vision turns from black to red. 
Hit the ground in horror crying, 
Wake up sweating in your bed.               
                    

WHAT  IS  OUR  RELATION?...

When I look at you its like we both see something that we like;
But quickly we turn our heads like our eyes are blinding lights;
Inside our minds we think about the possibilities for new heights;
But the fear of failure stops us for we think that its too right;
Girl its hard for me to say it but I think that you're the one;
My heart burning for your love intense like heat from 1000 suns;
And it seems like it won't stop. What is this an indication?;
Yes of course I cannot rest until I find out our relation;
Perfection within my arms reach and my heart is even closer;
I don't see you that much but when I do the time moves slower;
I don't know what this means but I have great expectations;
What am I to you, I want to know our relation?;

"Seduction"

The first time I laid my eyes on her
I felt an electric charge cut through my heart.
I stood frozen in hypnosis
By the sight of her, 

Then I said to myself                     What is this feeling over me?
What could it be, this wonderful feeling I have?
\I couldn't figure it out,
Nor could I grasp it.
But it felt so soothing and comfortable;
It made me feel
Increasingly warm towards her.
It may have been seduction by her.

The Naked Lady

I studied the strides of her restless feet.
They had the rhythm of a distant song.
Elegant, graceful, but out of time.
She is the model of a faith, tailored to suit her mortified body.
Her daily prayers and fasting are
But to bind and cast into the abyss of denial;
The twin smooth demons called Age and Death.
And as a rite of accomplishment,
She discards a dress after each meal.
I heard her sang and giggled to a nursery rhyme,
With a voice as primitive as a shadow.
She is as hysterical as a siren; seeing wolves in her own shadow.
Yet like Santa, to the naive, she is an idol.
This morning, she offered me some clothes.
Stained at each collar by the undeniable fingerprints,
Of the ghosts of prosperity and blissfulness.
"Here, cover your poor body with these". She said.
And as grateful as I was for her kindness,
I stared at the noble lady and wept.