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Color My Soul



Dripping dew nearing summer, gentle dusk, 

petals fold in delicate brevity. 

Thinking of lilies, a genuine rush, 

reminds me of gifts and sincerity. 


Starlight dances in sunless, midnight, skies, 

pretending some familiarity. 

Forget those long ago promising lies, 

that depend upon sworn longevity.


Paint my soul in purples and lavender, 

reassuring my mind’s lost memories. 

Color my soul in pale and pastel, manners,

blooming amidst daffodil energies. 


Scout for delinquent, grand, delicacies, 

gourmet in texture, fiber, and timber. 

Limit distance for more intricacies, 

noticing fantastic movements, limber. 


Dawning slowly in informational, 

intellect, the student emerges new. 

Dancing through moments educational, 

she endures more lessons to continue. 


Color my soul with inspiration abound, 

singing songs, painting, and moving around. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015 

Color My Soul




The wheels are now attached 

blending motion somehow. 

Driving through those sunsets 

adventure never rests. 


Bring back moments long past 

that I desired to last. 

Celebrate freedom too 

memories continue. 


Could we take that slow ride 

across the world’s round side? 

Are you my love born free 

living our lives happy? 


Balance worlds on two wheels; 

sensations you don’t steal. 

Dare life to extinguish 

between words of English. 


Roll over lands unconquered 

in dreams unsequestered. 

Wheels in circular flow 

built this world; don’t you know? 


Can we climb into wheels 

that deliver what’s real? 

Will love witness this stain 

removing bugs with rain? 


Bring me for drives today 

to futures, far away. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015 


Forget-Me-Not Blues

Forget-Me-Not Blue


Beautiful in periwinkle 

on starlit nights, amidst navy skies. 

Tiny, petite, spring, blossoms twinkle 

dew, gently opening petal eyes. 


Do you remember that color blue 

that catches in the mind, so, so true? 

Cerulean the forgotten hue 

tumbles glitter in waters near you.


Bearded irises flaunt indigo 

in sunlight accessed by hummingbirds. 

Spirited away moments ago,

as if by celestial cloud herds. 


Do you know the forget-me-not blues, 

that delights the minds to continue? 

Sapphires sparkle as ice in stones too, 

while young girls their princes’ love grew. 


Cobalt and ultramarine berries 

ripen in August heat-cleared, sunshine. 

Pick them fast now; quickly, please hurry, 

for they’ll disappear for jams and wines. 


Can you taste the forget-me-not blues 

that tantalize your life in all hues? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015 

Forget-Me-Not Blues

Haunted Dreams



In a post-apocalyptic world, 

a pre-destined, pre-assigned, planned time, 

I dreamed of monsters sunborn, unfurled, 

spawned, maladjusted, and pre-designed. 


In a haunted land with ghostly shades, 

my thoughts drifted, daydreams laid and stayed. 

In haunted dreams of shadow-like tales, 

my children slept corrupted; I wailed. 


In Greco inspired walls of paper 

dazzling in resign, I stood dazed. 

Motives majestic like rapiers, 

I lost my places almost amazed. 


Laughter echoed from enchanted rooms, 

walls, and doors of this house all entombed. 

Storybooks captured souls, now somehow doomed, 

creating torture in woven looms. 


In haunted dreams of sad, ill-repute, 

my mind screamed, painfully, in dispute.

Those haunted dreams in need of reboots,

tempt me to sleep, dreaming continues.


In a present-day, forgotten world 

filled with animals confined to words, 

presumes a fencer of different swords, 

genetically altering birds. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Synthetic Sympathies

Speed Star 1.1392440  00

Mountain Lion @ Duluth Zoo.


Clocks strike on the monotony moments 

with tension building in posh luxuries. 

Do you think my inquiries cue movements, 

in between playful, slick, emergencies?


What does your synthetic sympathies mean 

while you fall apart at your tiny seams? 

Synthetic sympathies imprison me 

while I grasp for true-self, identities. 


Singing songs and beating drums celebrate 

my sincerity with quaint sentiments. 

Vocalize heartfelt lone initiates, 

into statements of true love, testaments. 


Understand creativity jailed 

in dire circumstance forces painters’ strokes. 

Words recited in emotion’s sad, wails 

enrages captive monster’s ire when poked. 


Why state synthetic sympathies allied 

with turbulent fatal, false, fantasies? 

Synthetic sympathies tortures apply 

toward zoo’s carnivorous fallacies. 


Temptation wills you now, onward, forward 

in unfettered, staling, exuberance. 

Would you sense limitation’s rusted, sword 

protruding from your stately, ignorance? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Flesh And Bones

Terri in MI 2003


Could this be an identifier 

in case of multiple, outliers?

The answer is never expected

after all the clues are inspected. 


The bone of contention is slivered 

in the context; it’s now delivered. 

Below are samples for the experts, 

whose analysis leads to networks. 


Flesh and bones in the foible, end zones, 

transported as if by robot, drones. 

Flesh and bones transferred cases, alone, 

for anthropologists now postponed. 


Stillness of the dead calm, building care, 

sheltered with prisms possessing dares. 

Mystery calls received sincerely, 

promising forests, calling dearly. 


Would you justify observations 

in life’s quantifying, close, questions? 

Answer the query before it’s late. 

I wouldn’t stop now, or hesitate. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Flesh And Bones




Traumatized since you rationalized.

Seems so easy.. A little out-sized,

as I look into your dull, doe eyes.

Would you really come to realize,

that all you said was internalized?


Internalized, yes internalized –

like so many of your petty lies.

Internalized, why internalized?

Out of sick humor, and your lies

your victims always internalized.


Words as lazy communications

burn in brains as toxic libations,

while awaiting your contemplation.

Your unwarranted tribulation

causes serious allegations.


Tripping into your chaotic realm

you fall asleep at the ragged helm.

No, it doesn’t at all overwhelm

as your gallows are a witch’s elm.

Your life doesn’t at all overwhelm.


Internalized, yes, internalized…

your small psyche cannot memorize.

Internalized, yes internalized…

karma visited now is quite wise.

Your evil you now internalize.


Life encountered full, wide-arced circles,

filing nuances into girdles.

Your chances lost on sunset purples,

while your laughter dies into chortles.

Would you understand this dear, riddle?


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015


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