http://slow.writerscafe.org/N8_Bee The original writings of author Nate en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776033640 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When I realized that I wasn't the first to suffer. . . my heart opened. . . there's nothing left to say. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/445939/ Open arms, anxiously awaitingthe love of my life as I'm tired of dating.I long to soar in my heart around the world, doing 'loop de loops' like 'Rocky Squirrel'. No more buzzing about in search of honey, wanna fall head first in love like a crash test dummy.Singing love songs toge.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/445934/ Words don't do this piece justice even tho it itself is a compilation of "words". It is in essence my proposal to the woman who chose me. Many men think they selece their mate but that is so very far from the truth. As males we are born with a Head ove http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444527/ This is the title of my as yet unpublished first book of poetry. It is a compilation of poems based upon my life's events, joys but mostly tragedies. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444519/ Icy! and freezingmy poor frigid heart, cold and aloneit survives in the dark Isolated! far removed from paradise lostnearly frozen to deathand covered with frost... Swirling! dust particles encased in my frozen tearsa shattered existence...an unheld handth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444516/ When you love someone, the unspoken words carry more weight than those that you speak.It’s a look or a smile that sets what you feel apart from what you do.It’s a silent sermon and an unsung song, it’s a gift that’s truly unique. When you love someone, no one.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444515/ Seems that I couldn't start healing until I started writing about my experiences. . . for me to write, I can't hold back. These are things that I think a great deal of people are still going through, yet still, readers be advised this poem is graphic in http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444476/ One night while I was sleeping, I dreamed that I was dead, and as I stood before the Throne of God, this is what He said,  'Precious, precious child of mine, your journey is not ending, you're merely at the start of another chapter, where death... is the beginning. Now .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444474/ You stand before me, and I before you, at the beginning of forever, the start of together-And I wonder what our future will bring us... Will we smile everyday? Will we laugh in a way that lets everyone around usknow that we'll always stay, forever friends first, for better.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444473/ It feels like holding my breath waiting for the final blow to fall, the deathblow. Unable to predict when it will fall and unable to stop it from inevitably falling; all I can do is wait for you to undo... Us.  It feels like watching the sun un-rising and watching the rain un-falling, like .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444471/ Looking into the setting sun, I can see the end of forever, and the cold gray marker that representsthe time we spent together. I don't know how the relationship endedbecause it happened so very quick; We fell in love, we lived in love, we fell out of love and now there is no lo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444470/ None needed http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444350/ This title sums up the story of me (until about a year ago.) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444332/ This is more of a story than a poem, so for this piece I am going to officially create a new word, (drum roll) "Stoem". It seems to me that I am better at pulling on heartstrings than most anything else. Please enjoy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444290/ Okay, so I was bitter. . . instead of being destructive, I was constructive. . . this was the finished product. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444284/ I do a lot of righting based upon true stories. This poems contains snapshots of each tragic experience. All of these happened here in my hometown of Baltimore, MD. . . very sad. Enjoy http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444256/ This poem is an expression of the feeling of one who's been a Butt in a relationship, it comes to an end, now he/she wants back in but it won't be so easy. It's a lot easier to lose love than it is to fall into it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444253/ If I could dream a million dreams, there's just one that I'd want to come true.If I could live a thousand lifetimes, I'd only want the life with you. Now I don't know what you're looking for, or even if you're looking at all.But give me one chance and I'll lead you tothe place w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444248/ My life has always been a contradiction; wishing for the sun but only getting the rain... thank God that "my soul cried out" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444247/ Can you imagine what would happen and how everyone would react if Superman arrived in only a cape. Just a light fun piece about how I perceive it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444168/ My heart compelled me to write a poem back in 2005 about the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina and the daily horrors for those who lived through it and those who didn't http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444167/ The agony of unreciprocated love. . . there are few feelings as intense. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444166/ Stop looking at things for what they are but with your minds eyes, see them for what they aren't http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444044/ The horseshoe on my inner thigh, Reminds me that nothing's changed.The burnmark on my forearm is the roadmap of my pain. The rip across my shoulder hurts more at 37 than it did at 7.A reminder to me that seven's unlucky, and for me, so was eleven... Scarred Oatmeal I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444042/ The poem says it all http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444041/ I would like to not write a description for this piece but it is long and written from the perspective of a young man who has died (I won't say how), but he doesn't know or hasn't firmly grasped the truth that he has. Again, it is long but if you have th http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444036/ Most of what I'd write was full of pain and feelings of unworthiness. . . this is one of them. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444026/ Total release of independant feeling and selfish desire to be whatever you need to be for the one that you love. . . are you capable? Can you? Can I? This is the reason this piece is call "Can I?" as opposed to "May I?" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444022/ It's slung around like mud but do any of us truly understand its meaning, its strength or its power. . .do we? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444014/ Have you ever sat back an analyzed the pain of going through breakup? It's really rather beautiful in a broken hearted sort of way. . . http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444010/ Can you. . . better yet. . . will you. . . Give? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/444004/ Have you ever given all of yourself to someone and have them take your love for granted. Has someone ever given their All to you but you just couldn't see further than your own wants and desires? That's what this piece is about. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/443761/ Having seen the effects of spousal abuse and how it leads to other forms of abuse. This is my dedication to all those who have felt this pain and whose abusers can't or won't see their abuse. . . through their own eyes. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/443544/ Lonely is a single traveleron a dark and winding road.Lonely is the burdenof carrying a heavy load. Lonely is a beautiful songthat noone's ever heard, and lonely is the wait for deathby a broken wing'ed bird. Lonely is an elderly manwaiting patiently for deathand th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/443490/ This poem is based upon a true event that happened in late 2003 in MD. It speaks for itself really http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/443488/ I am the seed planted in the shade and never watered, planted too shallow and discarded too soon, but my soul cried out. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/N8_Bee/443329/