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Maybe Just Amazed



Seldom are moments that speak, 

with the disappearing dust. 

Blinking back tears of disgust, 

I ignore seconds I’m weak. 


Coming to me in dream snips, 

it dawns on movements of time. 

Waters flowing blank design, 

washing deeds into grand tips. 


Maybe I’m just amazed now, 

that you visited with love. 

Maybe just amazed, above 

years of silence, here somehow. 


Slamming to acceptance gained, 

renewed a hope permanent. 

Innocent in my reticence, 

learning my faith hasn’t waned. 


Words echo in passages 

of my sleeping, alert, mind. 

For a minute you remind, 

not lying in messages. 


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015

Paradise Lost

Apples 2014


Paradise was lost the day you died, 

since my innocence wasn’t contrived. 

You protected me from the world’s foes, 

only to unleash the darkest woes. 


Death came as such icy, blasted, shocks. 

My whole world now eternally rocked. 

Closer to soul my heart plummeted, 

repeating denial, pain meted. 


Paradise died when hope with faith lost, 

my emotions trampled, raped, and tossed. 

You left behind solemn, family, 

with an uncertain, mute, destiny.


Delivered into society, 

where media worshipped the mighty, 

and blonde beauties reigned almost, supreme – 

as if they were God’s only true, queens. 


Paradise lost its dreaming princess, 

as truth’s unwilling, weeping, witness. 

Quickly gone, without knowing a trace, 

you championed and lost your true case. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Awake Before Alarm


There’s a message in my mind.
Something I wish to rewind.
A song echoes to remind.
The poem won’t be sound kind.

I stumble remembering,
words so true.
I wish I were now coming,
back to you.

And then “Stairway to Heaven”
rushes in.
Robert Plant’s voice a given,

Awake before the alarm,
a moment lost without harm.

T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Follow Pathways

Anchor Lake rest stop Nov 1988


Do you take some satisfaction 

with limited interaction?

Do you enjoy gravitation 

that plays throughout situations? 


Follow pathways to understand 

until you vow you comprehend. 

Fill the shallows of hollow lands, 

before thinking of upper hands. 


Would you consider sensations 

that resist your integration? 

Would you drop your reparations 

faulty reason’s presentations? 


Follow pathways that enlighten, 

borrowing knowledge forgotten. 

Fill moments with satisfaction, 

building simple lone monuments.


Did you pause in recollection 

or think lengthy contemplation? 

Did you stop in pure wonderment 

in your fiery concentration? 


Follow pathways seldom taken. 

Do it without hesitation. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015


Terri Winter 1984d2


Blowing some zephyrs through my mind, 

bring me back to another time. 

Build me rainbows from my prism; 

I will create my own rhythm. 


Would you see jumbled shapes collide- 

an imagination resigned? 


Tangles of ideas clutter 

while cameras click and shutter. 

Tangles knotted in abstract shapes; 

pile the misnomer of mistakes. 


Will you know the curling writing 

that builds temples into siding? 


Float with me into setting suns; 

this reality has begun. 

Fly my mind into stark stillness; 

don’t beckon for unsound illness. 


Should I beg for your attention 

in your abject apprehension? 


Tangles sear in my waiting brain, 

noting pleasantness still remains. 

Tangles and figures in Nature 

could be my only savior. 


Could you perceive my lone designs 

that echo of when you were mine? 


Show me this kindness beyond now 

that eradicates hate somehow. 

Smile, for the tangles do have you; 

it’s I, who will now continue. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

One And Only

Jim MI Jun 1988


Did you know you’re my one and only?


Picture time frozen and forgotten. 

Images flip forward in my mind. 

“Why?” I don’t know; it’s long begotten. 

Memories trip up in instant time, 

while promises long gone, now remind. 


Did you know you’re my one and only 

photographs from when I lived lonely? 


Songs reverberate the radio, 

playing our youth in mementos sung. 

Sound out the rhythm of concertos 

thumping on the dashboard off-key tunes, 

while enjoying minutes of joy rung. 


Did you know you’re my one and only 

time in stillness, life moves on homey?


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015

Dream Thing

Terri Winter 1984b2


It’s filled with souls, just too many to count. 

Living and gone, existence some renounced. 

Future and past tense, noise sounded, announced 

for reality teeters and surmounts. 


It’s a dream thing, remembering feelings 

that fill the heart, and sends the head reeling. 

It’s a dream thing, seeing faces of loved 

ones that gone for now, far, far, far, above. 


A dwelling of kindred my eyes beheld 

with heart breaks mounting as time ticked, and ebbed. 

Emotions rained, tear drops filled flower beds; 

still seconds lingered within me, and swelled. 


It’s a dream thing, remembering faces 

of those dear to my heart, and soul traces. 

Within my mind I hear their words dally, 

while the dream thing coalesces and rallies. 


The guardian threatens to banish me 

away from the gathering, in the trees. 

It appears striped, and full of entreaties  

that amuse and somewhat frightening me.


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015


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