YOUR LOVE

I will always remember your love though.

Your love was like,
a painted picture of a boat,
flowing up and down a stream,
alluring I into your relaxation of water.

All of a sudden,
while in a sloshing, serenity moment,
your love captured me like a twinkle of a star,
reflecting from the motion of the water.

For in both our eyes,
ooh, what a flicker from that moment,
to this one,
is where the sadness came into play.

For it was your hidden broken self,
you began to display to me,
your pain,
over and over again, my dear.

Your trivial antics pulled your love away from me,
while altering the state of your true well being,
when I first met you,
wow, your love.

Your views were so dynamic,
so I thought back then,
I will always remember your love though.

Your love.

ONE

For one to understand

One.
For one to understand
the true meaning of oneself
One must learn their true value in doing so
Defining one’s truth is their facts
For morals play a factor in one’s life.

One.
For one to understand
what it is to be understood
listen,
otherwise one will never understand
why one is misunderstood
one must know thyself
then one will
overstand to define who they are.
One.

-Chelley The Poetess © 7/2020

A STORY OF THE ISM

(Written with (Truth, Peace, Love and Understanding God Bless us All!)

We are in a world full of the ism.
We the people being led by a hypnotist of this hypnotism.
We are forged to forget being lost of a past and present prism,
We the people suffer and continuously are looking for escapism.

We need to get away from the altered deep state of criticism.
We the people are being harmed by acts of recidivism.
Although the escapism is not to be locked inside the deep of a mindset,
for us not to see is stigmatism, trying to captivate us all with the acceptance of pauperism.

To think, the only way to survive the ism is to live by a rule to join into the
capitalism or just to accept the way of socialism, stop all the radicalism,
for this is not a way for, showing proper symbolism cultivating life without
war.

Leave it to the politicians,
to eradicate a system not truly meant to be helpful for anyone, anyway, anyhow, its unrealism, dictating by way of blaming their own journalism,
for what the mindblowers have already done. Designed only just to keep all
people down and against each other with racism. This is really sadism, what
is needed is a baptism, along with a cleansing through an exorcism.

In a world full of shady nepotism, we need a new mechanism, to let go and let God to get us out of this unsavory scum. Treating many a women second class terribly with sexism. For the everyday average people, listen, God created us in the realism, to be thankful, grateful, also honorable, and to give by showing appreciation without skepticism. With God all is possible for it is always optimism, not pessimism and God will be done with all this
satanism on the run.

In a day and time where a lot of the world seems to be focusing on materialism, whereas for the greedy of this behaviorism, they do not even
care about the truth of what is right, they call it criticism, nor what is so the usual norm to them cynicism, is to be the leaders of their own game of narcissism. For they have a joy of playing and displaying all the cruelty they put on this land, so we won’t walk hand in hand, no love just haterism to us humans.

God Bless us all! With love. Savor your love, faith, hope and belief to our Most Highest (God) to protect us keep us all with his Mercy and Grace bestowed and thou will be done with all this satanism on the run.
A STORY OF THE ISM

(Written with (Truth, Peace, Love and Understanding God Bless us All!)


A STORY OF THE ISM
©ChelleythePoetess 4/2020


Image: ChelleythePoetess

JUST A PERSISTENT SHADOW

Just a persistent shadow,
Climbed through the window of my mind,
Thought out loudly,
Eyes wide open,
Tried to shake the shadow,
It was a breeze of an incoherent being.

So persistent,
So debilitating,
For through this shadow was pain,
Pulled the safety off,
Breathed in so deeply, exhaled so calmly,
Strength took over and let it go.

The aftermath was serenity and delight,
The reality was, it came by way of vibration,
A break of thought was required,
This was one heck of a break,
For this was just a persistent shadow.

©Chelley The Poetess 2019



A MAN NAMED SICK ©

I knew this man

I knew this man named Sick,
The way he talked and the way he walked,
I knew he was slick,
He told me he was sharp on his game,
I told him truth would be his claim to fame.

Sick said he didn’t have to play by the rules,
I told Sick, he could end up in all the wrong schools,
Sick said, I am too damn overtly clever,
I said Sick, you are headed to that place called never,
Sick spoke about all he would do not to get to that place ever.

I told Sick to rethink his thoughts and change his ways,
Sick said, why should I? I’ve been doing this all my days,
I said, I don’t care what you do,
I’m giving you advice, just to help save yourself from you.

Sick just laughed at me and said, listen woman you can’t tell me nothing
that’s already embedded in my head,
I told Sick, you are so animated, inadequate, ignorant and not well read,
For the consequences of your lesser deeds of what you portray are gonna get you busted all upside your head.

I felt in my gut, this would be the last time I would ever see Sick again,
Knowing him from childhood and the neighborhood, he had become sin,
Moving forward from our conversation that day, I felt a need to pray,
For I knew Sick would not live a long life doing things in his way.

My day was done, so I decided to watch the six o’clock news, to my dismay,
The news struck my nerve about the conversation I had with Sick that day,
The reporter said, a young man was struck down by three bullets to the head,
News traveled fast from the neighbors, saying it was someone from our neighborhood, which was called and known as The Shred.

Sitting still I gazed at the television thinking about my premonition,
I was hoping it wasn’t the person whom I had envisioned,
Sick was the first person who came to my mind.
I said, Oh Lord, please no more death at this time.

Following my first mind, I rushed to the hospital to see if it was Sick,
The doctor asked me if I could and would identify this man,
I said I know this man and yes I can,
I told the doctor we all called him Sick but his true birth name was Rick.

The doctor continued with the scenario of what his gunshot wounds were,
The doctor also told of Sick’s last words of what the strife Sick had incurred,
At this time all the doctors gathered around me, while one told me he held on to his life as long as he could
for there was nothing else they could do or would,

Another doctor said, Sick was screaming and shouting for us to save his life,
He asked this particular doctor to call the woman who gave him the best advice.

RIP SICK.