Emoticons in my Life
Already In childlhood I had emoticons
of cry when I hungered and I longed for my mom
A lost toy is sorrow, the sting of ant is pain
A friend who went away left icons of despair
And then childhood I left onto adolescence
Everything around me began to have a sense
Emotions have causes so do emoticons
I myself cannot make my icons on my own
In my bachelorhood came the icon of frown
The incertitudes of love I could not understand
Came to me the icons of sorrow and despair
When in the field of love woefully I did fail
In the end I regained icons of hope and joy
when the heart of the woman that I love I won
Emoticons of anger in my manhood did come
Emotion I supressed, did not show everyone
Emotional outbursts I hid and overcome
Harmony and accord was foremost in my mind
I am now in old age, my smileys are few
The icon of laughter I now do never show
Emoticons are not for an old man to make
But dictated by God, icons I must accept
That always come with pain, ailments and body aches
poem by Pacific Hernandez

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
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poem by Michael Silver

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natalie's estate is handled by Global Icons, and they police the world so her picture isn't on a T-shirt or coffee cup unless we approve of it.
quote by Robert Wagner

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To be a winner of that, and to fall in the long line of traditional great backs at USC, to have your name in perpetuity, the fact that your parents are like icons... that's the greatest thing.
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My icons do not raise up the blessed savior in elaborate cathedrals. They are constructed concentrations celebrating barren rooms. They bring a limited light.
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My Caring Wife
You are who you are and as I have often said
you're blessed with the ability to think ahead.
And God has also given you a caring heart
a place in which such deep emotions take their part.
So many forms of emotion flow out of you
as you show such joy and laughter and sorrow too.
Your sensitivity can sometimes make you cry
and it is because you feel deeply that you sigh.
Signs of pain and sadness you so often reveal
when grieving for others and their heartache you feel.
As you reach out to them with your loving embrace
tears of sorrow and empathy flow down your face.
Like Poo Bear you hum tunes as on your way you go
determined to others your friendliness to show.
When chuckling and laughing your lovely beaming face
glows with love as your grand children you embrace.
My love, you are so full of laughter and such joy
when in the company of those whom you enjoy.
Unconditional affection to all you share
and I praise God for your deep love and tender care.
Beauty Queens Don’t…
Beauty queens don’t burp, fart, poop or pee
To do so would destroy illusion of a goddess
Because Icons are not mortal like you n’ me
They’re meant to prance, preen n’ luminesce
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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