Umph Poem#2

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remission is over

and like a cancer you

are back

to pick dry

the already rotted love

from my heart —

Your hugs are like pain in disguise

and you should wonder

about my anger; while saying,

“I do hope something of myself

left a postive feeling.”

m.d. taylor


~~FOR THOSE WHO WAIT~~

The nerves on my inside made the hairs

On my arms stand up

And thoughts of holding my breath for

You to come back made me crazy —

I am a woman built of nothing but emotions

hidden behind white teeth that are stained

by hurt.

My soul has been raped

and I am still holding my breath

and maybe that’s why the hairs on my arms

are standing up again

and maybe that’s why

I am writing a poem to you from the

insane asylum, with love.

m.d. taylor

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(. . . for Oriana Fallaci- she warned me/us years ago)

Her mouth

was a siren

going off:

“I think probably

there is going to be a

a third world war.”

And I ran

through war images

in my mind

with fear holding

my every heartbeat.

I knew how

it felt to be a victim —

Before . . .

. . .. during and

after the

bomb,

you are like a

mutant dog

either mad and barking

at the world

or hiding from it.

~ m.d.


Anniversary

Again June,
and suppressed feelings grow outward
rising from beneath the soil
half nurtured on remembrances and expectations-
In Birmingham you raise different feelings
changing them to an emotional attitude-
there are unspoken moods hidden
at the roots of this growing-
in refusing to till
the soil
both heart and soul
are betrayed
I always knew
weeds were capable of killing
You blooming
during the worst summer
of my life
each year survived a
reminder of possibly losing you:
perhaps to the welcome of a new
planting in a foreign land or simply
to a more interesting season-
On the petals of a Daisy
I file “you love me: you love me not.”
Petals do not reveal the truth, poets do not
bear lies about love, surprised
they have become
the sharecroppers of grief
M.D. Taylor


© All Rights Retained — 2017


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Synchronicity

you said, “find me;

i am again, lost in this world.”

how odd that when you’re lost, so am i- that the pathway back to

yourself leads to me; just as the path back to myself leads to you —

the former a journey unto itself-

do you think the God of ALL will

continue to allow us to, forever, play this game of clue?

awaken from your sleep! bump your head no more-

shake the darkness from the obvious-

know that your soul’s light, your beshert, has

crossed onto the trail each time you’ve

whispered,”find me.”

there is…

m.d. writes

M.D. Taylor (a.k.a. md_writes) is a writer who sustains life by working to support her writing habit. she is in love with writing and y/our words!

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