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Rips And Tears

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Whispering softly gentle zephyrs 
and speaking my name again through tears, 
Mother beckoned me in dreams, like spurs, 
“Why have you forsaken me these years?” 
 
I cried aloud without any sound,  
the pain growing into rips and tears. 
My mind screaming, verbally aloud, 
and collapsing into rips and tears. 
 
Hair standing fully at attention 
and heart breaking from saddened weeping, 
my mind felt loving consolation, 
she said, “I forbid any reaping.” 
 
Salty water streamed my distraught face 
while breaths exhaled into rips and tears. 
Heart breaking although rushing a race, 
life coalesced into rips and tears. 
 
Standing solidly, weak all at once; 
her love in creation now required 
to build relationships in ounces, 
for she is all happiness desired. 
 
Opening arms and heart, now embraced 
reception beckons from rips and tears. 
Give all and receive, all will erased, 
in emotions of love’s rips and tears. 
 
Deceive not yourself of conception 
of bonding with “The Whole” of Nature. 
For your role on this Earth’s deception 
multiplies with denial tinctures.
 
T.M. Prada
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/rips-and-tears/711012802281966

 

Cloud Dancer

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Noticing breath in morning chill 
the dream master orders at will. 
See the mother beckon you home 
honoring your birthright, condoned. 
 
Shamans beat rhythm onto drums, 
setting with another day’s sun. 
Soon times grow brisk, and the air cold, 
harvesting people before old. 
 
Gather now, joining in soul’s dance. 
You may not get another chance. 
Gather the storm clouds for thunder; 
you won’t fly out, blown asunder.
 
Awaken from the dreamer’s mind 
renewing life, they won’t remind. 
Child, see the vision; plant the seed. 
I bring to you your urgent need. 
 
Minstrels and poets sing the keys 
the notes touch spirits as it pleads. 
Get up now, humming olden tunes, 
metamorphosis continues. 
 
Float above the mêlée and dance, 
growing eagle’s wings is your chance. 
Listen to my voice, Cloud Dancer. 
Knowing nature, is the answer.
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/cloud-dancer/710270569022856

Charming

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Lavender and lilac painted finger tips 
designer mistakes, like I’d give a rip. 
Freckles spot my skin in repetition 
love my rendition of imperfection. 
 
Would you love without your social beauty 
that sparkles almost shortly, or briefly? 
Will you love beyond the observable 
showing charm that’s required desirable? 
 
Starvation molds the catwalks and stages 
simple models groped in fashion rages. 
Muses in ruses pose for page covers 
as if they vogue for another lover. 
 
Could you admire the honest love-lorn smile 
with twinkling eyes that carries for miles? 
Can you see me throughout painful disdain 
charming your way in someone else’s day? 
 
Black and purple speckles my bruised up soul 
while you ask me with charm, “What do you know?” 
Silver and red cloud my enraged vision, 
moving away with great apprehension. 
 
Should weeping engulf relationships lost, 
which I abate as a tiny ship tossed? 
Shall I advise myself of depthlessness 
in unavoidable charming dullness? 
 
Lilac fills somber imaginations
strumming guitars sound the situation. 
Lavender scents exude beyond stations, 
thinking without any limitations! 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/charming/709303275786252

Windswept

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Take me to undiscovered places
in between some uncharted courses.
The adventure of lifetime races
plunges through this avid explorer’s 
veins… 
 
Windswept plains, often the soul reminds
sensitive souls, cool the racing pulse.
Windswept valleys, the pollen reminds
nature’s rebirth, show flowers bloom pearls. 
 
Invite me into castles’ gleaming
hopes to capture imaginations.
Come with intent to reigniting
awe within the heart’s integration
chains… 
 
Windswept coasts, balms of summer reminds
beachgoers, chill fevers of love starved.
Windswept mesas, psalm to treks remind
adventurers, vantage points observed. 
 
Vacation with me in your mind’s eye;
the victim of time unmonitored.
Travel creation’s, a passerby,
throughout landscape lanes unregistered
pain… 
 
T.M. Prada
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/windswept/707211369328776
 

Dreamer’s Mind

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Minds travel when entering sleep 
throughout corridors dark and deep. 
Probable realities live 
within the psyche’s creative. 
Blast the obstruction that competes 
with unconscious intellect’s keep. 
 
Snapshots within the dreamer’s mind 
form circuits, electrical binds. 
Videos build interactions 
as movies’ coming attractions. 
Impulses feed the dreamer’s mind, 
communication on rewind. 
 
Changelings thrive of every hue 
finding meals while I continue, 
and moving toward a bleak shore 
I wonder what resides in store. 
Penetrate folds in space and time 
revealing infinite design. 
 
Words spoken by the dreamer’s mind 
float in musical thought and rhyme. 
Phrases sung with satisfaction 
slide through throngs loving reactions. 
Poems created from dreamer’s mind 
live beyond, before, and resigned. 
 
Buildings bow before me somehow
while existing inside wayward clouds.
Creatures speak complete in stature
while interact, thinking captured.
Touching now within that moment,
I wake with memories golden. 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/terri-m-prada-writerpoet/dreamers-mind/706029369446976 
 

 

Reflecting On Perfection

Two Harbors Beach

 

Been waiting around this town 
like something is going down. 
Missing me for greater part, 
it rips holes into my heart. 
Could you know my building pain 
alone dying from disdain? 
 
Oh, I’ve been feeling quite low 
and aching deep in my soul. 
Oh, I’ve been feeling quite low; 
it’s something only you know. 
 
Could life bring me more than that 
shifting through untyped contracts? 
 
Oh, I’ve glimpsed tinted visions 
amidst angels milling sweet. 
Oh, I’ve glimpsed painted visions, 
a multifaceted treat. 
 
Been looking for inclusion 
with my unique solutions. 
Inventions with intention 
provide my isolation. 
Would you soothe this heart throbbing 
with society’s prodding? 
 
Oh, I’ve visited the realm 
with intentions at the helm. 
Oh, I’ve lived within the realm 
becoming much overwhelmed. 
 
Would you perceive me between, 
situated at mid-stream? 
 
Oh, I’ve escaped windswept plains 
bordering grand failed designs. 
Oh, I’ve survived hidden plains 
isolated for consign. 
 
Reflecting on perfection 
on my heaven’s connections, 
I learn that intervention 
serves allied recollections. 
Should we convene, intervene, 
or rally time in between? 
 
Reflecting on perfection, 
adjust for stimulation. 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
 

Zephyrs Question

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Billows and banks in the cirrus 
filling me with distanced aired zen, 
on summer days like circuses 
with some gleeful laughing children. 
 
Would you spy with me this vantage
as the wind tosses hair around
lapping waters of still ravage 
thirsts drowning and dousing abound? 
 
Zephyrs question iterating 
tables on campers’ water shores, 
somewhat leaning and competing 
for earnest tales of weathered boards. 
 
Do you feel the query fulfilled 
stimulating distant islands 
in dances of winded quarrels 
with no scoldings or reprimands? 
 
Breezes bears witness and chances 
with the coming tide and moonlight 
between pauses zephyrs question 
whether anything is air-tight. 
 
T.M. Prada 
Copyright © 2014 
 
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