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The reason why the world is the way it is, is because there are so many loveless people in the world. The reason why there are so many loveless people in the world is because their parents didn’t love them enough. The reason why they didn’t love them enough is because they had children for all the wrong reasons.
Thank you ~ MaryAnn Koopmann
“Completely different writing styles complement each other beautifully to form a flow of positive consciousness that is sure to brighten anyone’s day. The poetry in here was the absolute best to delve into. The romance poet in this book really knows her romance.
Mostly, this is beautiful creative writing with a sensual theme. There is a nurturing quality to the lust, a beautiful connection between souls and an almost spiritual element in the union of lovers in a comforting embrace and heartfelt connection.
I found many of these poems were dipped in pleasure, but still retained an element of comfort. This is the type of book you can read at night before you go to bed and it may even produce beautiful dreams of the person you love.
She is a master at creating stories around life’s human experiences of hopes, dreams, disappointments, regret, and tragedy. She writes through the eyes and ears of each of her characters with clarity and vision.”
I first read this poem in Paulo Coelho’s novel The Winner Stands Alone and I fell in love with it completely. Here I share it for you all to read:
Whoever you are holding me now in hand,
Without one thing all will be useless,
I give you fair warning before you attempt me further,
I am not what you supposed, but far different.
Who is he that would become my follower?
Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?
The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive,
You would have to give up all else, I alone would expect
to be your sole and exclusive standard,
Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting,
The whole past theory of your life and all conformity to the lives
around you would have to be abandon’d,
Therefore release me now before troubling yourself any further,
let go your hand from my shoulders,
Put me down and depart on your way.
~ Walt Whitman
CREDITS: Dolce & Gabbana, Mariano Vivanco, Giampaolo Sgura
Children are the most amazing creatures.
Come about to explore, to play the game,
so free and playful
are still children when they die.
In old age
they are still young
still the same beings
going back to where they came from
for another beginning,
to quest for the eternal freedom
from bondage of the cycles of life and death.
My mind has become boggled of itself.
It has been thinking for many years now.
Encountered so many others, in 22 years, it has lost itself through the journey.
It has traveled many roads.
Many times been pulled into another world.
the clouds darkened.
The sun was gone, happiness was nowhere to be found.
The dead arose,
the wolves howled, looking for the light of the moon.
The world had caved me in.
HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?
Who put the distance between me and my world?
There is a price to pay
for the lessons we learn
and who we become.
which one is more expensive?
here you see it with your eyes,
through your mind.
It passes you by everyday,
still waiting for something,
yet not knowing what.
And after life,
what you have left is
Mimicking each other, even in our sleep, awake, sleepwalking down the road to death, trans formed, some cutting in front, some leaving to the end of the line.
Running desperately for the next red light, to make a stop and take a rest, not knowing what the rest really means. We never stop, it never ceases. Thank God for the accidents, disasters and misfortunes, only he can intervene and shine the light in our eyes.
Layers and layers of shit, piled on top of each other, but there’s no escaping the stink, not even in our wildest dreams.
Dine me, wine me, caress me,
treat me like a queen,
shower me with compliments,
tell me there’s no one like me,
tell me I’m your woman,
your one and only woman,
lavish me in my femininity.
Wanting so desperately to please my Man,
My Hero, my Master, my God.
Keep him coming for more,
keep him wanting and needing me more.
©2013 Dreams of Love