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WAITING How many times have I sat looking out a window waiting for a man? How many times have I sat, waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for that bell to ring, that phone, that pager, anything to let me know ....something. How many times have I sat looking out a window waiting for a man? -too many times to count -this makes it a trillion and one -it seems like only yesterday it was the very first time How many times have I run to the doorbell, the phone, pager, just to make sure they were all working properly? How many shadows have moved in the night that remind me of him? Is it him? Is it him? Then my imagination which has kicked into full blown special effects gear by this time, has ceased to amaze me with its trickery and deceitful lips whispering ever so softly in my ears. Maybe he's with someone else Maybe he's tired of you Maybe he got shot on the way here Maybe you didn't hear the phone when you went to the bathroom Maybe they cut off your phone, doorbell, and your pager! OH MY GOD! But no, they are all working exceptionally well and you take the phone with you everywhere you go I can't tell you how many times I have sat by a window, any window it doesn't matter which one. just sittin' and waitin' and sittin' and waitin', waitin' and sittin' for something, anything to happen. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin nnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh God please let that be him, please!!!!!!!! Pamela McCullough (c) - FYNEZZE@aol.com ==================================================================== WAITING FOR YOU I'll greet you at the door with a tender kiss... Hold you close and whisper softly in your ear how much you were missed... Remove your jacket and scarf from around your neck massage your shoulders, and maybe steal a quick peck.. Ask you about your day and look deep into your eyes sit you down and rub gently your aching thighs... Feed you strawberries or some other light dish, then hold you tight and grant your every wish... Into the night, with candles burning bright, and before you know it, your hectic day will be out of sight.. Now that you are exhausted and in a coma like sleep, I'll gently stroke your brow and whisper, "Oh, you are so sweet". and while looking down lovingly, wonder how did I end up with such a beautiful Queen, but that is something only the story tellers of the stars could have foreseen. Chris Hare (c) poetic_joker@yahoo.com ====================================================== MIXED EMOTIONS I wept when I read them your words pierced so deep left speechless in emotion How happy I was to see you real and vibrant knowing it was you and glimpsing part of you on the inside No greater gifts given than to share the depth of your mind inner hopes, hates and hunches the treasures you bring to us on the outside I must admit I warmed to you inviting you to enter my mind and explore it was the most intimate thing I could give you for what it's worth I respect you more In the softness I was saddened wished hard for the dreams not to take hold too open in my contentment feeling the fool for sharing my soul In moments, a hug and good-byes assurance that all was fine parting in opposite directions separate destinations I found you beautiful I used to dream of you through your voice You were always on the edge of my sight you flowed through my mind in the day and I called your presence to me at night You will live and love another Love given unreturned learning what will be with faith in my heart seeking peace I journey Susan L. Harrigan (c) Suli98@aol.com ====================================================== NOT OF ME As I smile in a way in which you, could only make me laugh. As I close my eyes and fall deeply in passion, as only you could when you kissed my lips. As I begin to drift helplessly and fainly as only you could, when you held me close. LOGICALLY,this gift of loving you wasn't in vain. My joy of giving never left me. My inspirations never clouded my aspirations. AWKWARDLY, I still feel your aura, as I look to the light to see you there. YOU MAY NEVER COME, AS I HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES. TRANQUILITYlies SUSPENDED when only, you spoke of my name. I've carried you for many years and the memories on which I recall, are present with each passing day. What I have given you; MYSELF unselfishly. As I can see logically, that this gift of loving you, wasn't in vain. Phaedra Davis (c) - fay@vgernet.net ====================================================== REFLECTING ON LOVE WITH NEFF I was talking with a friend today --- about men She's found an African Prince Black Man in concrete jungle We reflect on why she's not satisfied with him --- frustration over petty social conventions I remember who I believe to be my first love --I think we're afraid Of what? --Being in love. That uncontrollable feeling in the barren pit of chests Who stole your heart? And left you with a space that no one, or nothing, can fill. Being open to unexpected hurts --Giving up that part so essential to the whole giving me (you) to he, who knows so little about you (me) Later, I replay the conversation in my mind What about L-0-V-E scares me? Craving that which I so repel If u feel - - - nothing - - - can hurt Who hurt your heart, and bruised it in a place that no one, or nothing, can heal? --Am I lonely? Or tired of being alone? --No matter, I comfort myself anger and pain remain locked inside, sparks of emotion revealed briefly --Would love free me to be (But am I) me? Without he to complete I'm part of a whole that has yet to be But I'm impatient I wait for no one to love/hurt me Who stole your heart? Maybe no one can say. One day you will find it, I pray. Dawn Landon (c) dawntanya@hotmail.com ====================================================== MAMA Mother, mama can't you see? You were supposed to nurture me. To make me strong and proud and black; to make me a woman the thing I lack the most. Women don't let men come between their legs and skillfully extract their hearts still beating as they leave. Women don't let silver tongues whisper magic in our ears while lies linger up their sleeves. They're smart, you know real women are. Or, at least that's what I've heard. See, I let him come into me through me leaving babies in his wake. From clinic floors they called to me -- He don't love you he just told you so your sweetness he could take. Mother, mama tell me, it's so awful, is it true? How come you never told me? Perhaps you never knew. Ajani Kush (c) - passage2000@hotmail.com
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