I had the privilege of sharing a meal with Jade before she moved to another part of North Carolina and then off the Germany. She is a beautiful lady with wisdom beyond her years. I also enjoy posting at her poetry forum, Undying Muse. It is an honor to have gotten to know a bit of her heart.
Scroll down to taste a few of my favorites penned by Jade....
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Shy Away from God
He asked me why I shyed away from God --
Why the all knowing, all loving being
was a touchy topic to talk about.....
I shuttered between my grumbles
rolling back the irritated green eyes that
he compliments
and I said
"I don't know... "
I suppose I sit here and try to believe
that God is All Loving....
But I can't.
Instead I sit here and throw my attempts at
understanding
how he could love and let die....
the innocent -- the young -- the beautiful souls
....
how he could be so vain, so cruel
to have them praise his existance
and then take away the joy of their days
I tried to know him once ...
Searching in the pages of my brothers
I brought confusion and distrust--
Out of the root of my being
I brought pain
So to answer that question...
why I shy away from God....
I guess its because I wonder
if he is as great as everyone says.....
then why did he stop loving me?
View it here:
Shy Away from God
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The Dirty Invalid
She went there everyday
slipping in the front door,
limping like some three-legged dog,
clad in the same dirty clothes
she wore the previous week.
Toting on her shoulders some green-
some forest green backpack,
new and almost unused,
everyone noticed her.
I pondered her story often
but dared not near the young lass;
she seemed to desire her privacy so.
But my mind imagined moments
of merely making friends with the maiden.
She deserved a friend-
she needed someone I perceived.
She spoke to me once.
Asked me where the laboratory was located.
I responded as well took the opportunity
to joke carelessly about the war
in hoping to rouse some merriment
or even any animation other than her sullen silence.
But her sense of humor was jagged
and she let not an expression cross her face.
I pictured her hair let down and curly-
cleansed completly to the echo of a princess.
I saw her face washed to a smooth
a gentle and unworried gleam
leaving nothing unholy from her beauty.
I imagined her lips the sea
and I Moses to part them
revealing her heavenly smile to the world.
The world who thought her blantantly cold and inhuman
and incapable of ever beholding such elegance
as I saw in her.
Some might have thought me mad
if I had let known my wonderings.
So without their presence about me one evening,
I placed a rose at her seat
prior to her entrance.
It was an attempt, I admit,
to simply rustle up emotion
mainly to see her blush.
But to my dismay, she viewed the rose,
passed it by
and sat elsewhere thinking it to someone else.
My attempts to uplift her saddened spirit,
(or so it seemed to be saddened)
became more often and with more eagerness
for now it become more of an addiction.
Each time I failed miserably at my task.
Each time I wondered
did she really not notice it all.
And with each day I yearned more and more
to see her smile.
Alas with patience no longer
nor care of the thoughts of my peers
I took the seat next to my lady.
She moved none and spoke none
except for the mumbling of her book.
I, however, coversed freely and openly
to the miss whose attention obviously
was in some other universe.
But I versed- I practically sang to her
of my entire life,
telling her things I told no one.
At last, she closed her book,
set her georgous eyes upon me,
and for the first time
her glossy white teeth were revealed.
"You are a silly man," she said laughing
putting her novel away in ther green sack.
I was shocked into silence
leaving my mouth slightly dropped in amazement.
She lifted herself and pushed in her chair.
Then she turned and limped out the door.
But this time,
this time she had smiled.
View it here:
The Dirty Invalid
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You played for Me
You patted the soft linen sheet beside you
"Come sit down, beautiful.
Listen to your song."
You wrapped your long magical fingers
around the neck of that acoustic guitar
and you draped your long
classically light brown hair
down to ride the strings.
The mood was melancholy -
The song, you said, was called "The Age of Dreams."
I closed my eyes and consumed your enchanting melody.
The softest strokes of any tune I had ever heard you play.
You rattled the windows and the door with your tender love-making.
I had never been so at peace.
You were my comfort.
Your angelic music was the truth in my cold denial.
You had written me the perfect song
bleeding the perfect jaded story out
through your fingertips.
You ended and I realized once again
Just how lucky I was to have you.
My heart pounded, striking the walls of my chest.
I had thought that I could only know darkness and pain
yet, as you looked upon my crying face,
in your eyes, I swear I saw the sun shine again.
View it here:
You played for Me
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Jade's Archives:
At The Muse: Jade //
At The Pages: Jade
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Thanks Jade!!