Thursday, April 17, 2025

Remember: Poem

 

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Remember: Poem

Don’t fall in love with a woman who reads.
With a woman who devours books like oxygen,
whose soul dances in the margins of poetry and prose,
because she’s tasted worlds beyond your reach—
and once you touch her mind,
nothing will ever feel the same again.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who feels too deeply.
Who cries over forgotten songs,
laughs in the rain without reason,
and carries galaxies inside her chest.
She’ll look at you and see more than just a man—
she’ll see your shadows,
your silent dreams, your aching truths—
and love you anyway.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who writes,
who spills her soul in ink and metaphor.
She’ll immortalize you in verses,
turn your love into a storm on paper—
beautiful, wild, and unforgettable.
Avoid the woman who is educated, enchanted,
brilliantly mad, and beautifully unhinged.
She will not settle for shallow waters—
she dives into depths most fear to tread.
She questions everything.
She believes in magic, in revolution,
in breaking every rule that cages her fire.
Don’t fall for the woman who thinks—
who questions the stars, the silence, and even herself.
She knows the weight of knowledge,
but chooses to fly anyway.
Her wings are not made of feathers—
they are made of courage and chaos.
Don’t love a woman who laughs or cries while making love,
who turns the act into a sacred ceremony
where bodies disappear and souls collide.
She’ll awaken parts of you you never knew existed,
and you’ll never be able to forget the way she made you feel.
Especially not a woman who breathes poetry,
who finds the universe in a painting,
and whose heart beats in rhythm with music.
She will not live on the surface—
she will pull you under,
where truth is raw and love is eternal.
Don’t fall in love with a woman
who rebels against injustice,
who speaks with fire and listens with purpose,
who refuses to numb herself with noise and distractions.
She is dangerous because she is awake—
and once you’ve loved someone awake,
the sleep of indifference will never be enough.
Don’t fall in love with a woman
who is beautiful beyond her face,
whose soul outshines her skin,
whose eyes carry storms and stardust.
She’s not the kind you admire—
she’s the kind you survive.
Don’t fall in love with a woman like that.
Because once you do,
whether she stays or leaves,
whether she loves you or lets you go,
you’ll never truly be the same.
From a woman like that—
you never come back.

Phoenix to Rise: Poem

 

Phoenix to Rise: Poem

I cling to my faith

Surrounded me on Earth.

I came from ancient ash

As a Phoenix to rise above

With kindness and love,

For everything round as oval

Like a speechless falcon

That passed by as a light of beacon,

Or a dust storm

That scared my gentle soul.

I raised my hands.

I pray upon my call,

In case I get a feather fall.

Please, any sign from universe,

Just in a few verse

As a handwriting postcard

From the ancient past

That always will last

Like Phoenix raised to fly

For my damaged heart.

Tomshinsky@2025

When The Rain Falls

 “When the Rain Falls”

Sometimes the rain hits hard—
sharp, unrelenting,
like sudden tears with no warning.
Each drop a memory,
each gust a ghost of a love that once held me.
The sky darkens,
not in anger, but in sorrow—
a sultry, swollen ache that mirrors my own, expanding like the air in my lungs
Pictures flash through me.
Moments. Mouths. Hands. Heat
Gone.
And then… sometimes,
the rain arrives like a whisper—
soft, forgiving,
cradling me in its hush.
It tells me I’ll be okay.
That the weight will lift.
That this ache is not the end,
but the unmaking before the becoming.
The droplets wash over my skin,
sliding into the cracks of my broken heart,
rinsing it clean.
And just beyond the veil of gray,
visions begin to stir—
in shades of golden promise,
in the slow breath of a rising sun.
Lara-My Art of glass
May be a black-and-white image of 1 person and body of water

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Open Letter

 Tom Jones

Ida Tomshinsky To you my special woman, my love for you is never-ending; my prayers will be answered when i successfully visit you and be together with you. I cannot think of any better way to spend my life than with you at my side, You are what my heart has always needed—you and me, together at home, two souls as one, I found the meaning of my life because of you, and I promise to love you forever, You are the reason I became stronger, but still, you are my weakness. I would do anything for you to make you happy. I would give you the sun, the moon, the stars, and my whole heart forever, there is no better feeling than holding you in my arms, your smile is my everything, loving you is my favorite thing.
After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you. It was you yesterday, it was you today, and it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life. It will be you. I love you.
I adore you.
You make me better.
You are the spark in my darkness!
I can’t wait to visit you and be together with you my love kindly message me here directly request
-Tom JONES

I Loved, I Loved: Poem

 

I Loved, I Loved

I loved. I loved.

I gave my heart

That cannot be reclaimed,

Clinging to the ideal past

That gets all the parts

Covered with rust.

How to cherish human personality

Standing before you presently?

I loved, I loved,

And I gave my heart away.

I never, never will reclaim

This missing part again.

How to love again

When you are broken inside,

Beside your hollow side?

How to keep myself alive? –

Here comes a call from a wild

With destination to wait. –

For what? – I asked the wind.

My love is waiting for me.

I will follow you too,

Very soon, very soon. –

Please wait for me! –

The wind of spring whispered

The secrets to me.

The breeze was gentle,

Soft, and eternal.

There was a temptation. –

For what? – I asked the sensation.

I need to know and understand.

I have a new reality

With an old mentality.

Tomshinsky@2025

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Shaylaa: Poem

 

Shaylaa

There is an ancient fairy palace

At a truly wonderful place.

Historically, it was a home

Of a gray-eyed girl named Shaylaa,

Beautiful female that tryna

Lived in a tropical dome,

At far land of beauty and strength.

Since discoverable moment,

Shaylaa was admirable

For her storytelling abilities,

Natural beauty, and grace.

I can price her beautiful face

As a gift of faith,

And a girl from God, heavenly desired.

Shaylaa was always admired.

Tomshinsky@2025

Monday, April 14, 2025

Paper Boat: Poem

 

Paper Boat: Poem

One lazy afternoon

When sky had a white fluffy cloud,

My little boy made me very proud.

He made a paper boat.

The sun was shining,

And my Captain was smiling!

My little boy made a paper boat.

So, what? So, what?

Paper boat ready to float. –

Will it sink or float? –

Asked the rubber Duck.

The test drive was a success, and with luck

When it touched the pound,

It went after the Duck.

The paper boat

Made the little boy smile

For a while.

The rubber Duck

Was out of luck

And it won’t float any more.

It was full of water, therefore.

I was dreaming again out of the blue

About you and the captain’s crew:

The rubber Duck out of luck,

And the paper boat

That did not sink and float.

Tomshinsky@2025