No more tears

I told myself I'm not going to cry anymore.

I had a very rough day and wrote a poem for the first time in awhile.

Title: No More Tears
Written by: Luchetta Manus ©2018

I can't cry anymore
Tears filled reservoirs
Dried up sores on my heart

I can't cry anymore
It doesn't change anything
Leave me hoping
After the last tear is flowing
I'm left with the reality of knowing
That tears are just temporary relief

I can't cry anymore
Because I had to woman up
I grew up
clutching being wronged
Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you?
My theme song.

I can't cry anymore
Because it makes me weak
Venerable to those who prey
On draining me
of life and of love and
And the blessings God given me
From above.
In adult skin the child within
Screaming for peace and relief
And acceptance

I can't cry anymore because the Lord collected my tears in Golden bowls
Wiped my face dry lifted me high

And put an end to strife

Oxymoron

Poem Title: Oxymoron 

Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus

She swims in the same waters she drowns in 

Her beauty a stain

She swims in the same waters she drowns in

Her heart is flooded with love

The dams break from her pain

She swims in the same waters she drowns in 

She is filled with both hate and passion beyond what can be measured. 

She swims in the same waters she drowns in 

A warrior, yet peasant

Repulsive yet pleasant 

Mightily passive aggressive

She swims in the same waters she drowns in 

She's a gullible genius

A woman of great wealth, who is hopelessly penniless

Common sense yet senseless 

She swims in the same waters she drowns in

She's reckless yet explicit

She's a walking contradiction

Bear Bear poem revised for older Tru

 

My son's bear

Named bear bear

Worn by years

Of wear and

Tear

Rough play

A child's conversation

His bear

That had many surgeries

Often died

Sparse stuffing

His eyes

Replaced with buttons

He has only one eye button left

Bear bear

Flat lines

But is resurrected daily

My son’s best friend

He understands

My son’s way of thinking

The bear was a gift

When he was a baby

His father

had given it to him

When he was born

Like peanut butter and jelly

Regis and Kelly

That bear adorns him

Bear Bear's personality

Was my son's creation

Invented from

his colorful imagination

To cope with not being

ready for growing up, kid life, oh and school

Bear bear is

Low key and cool

When my job took me away

During the day

Single motherhood

Bear bear kept

Him calm

The bear stayed

By his side

Bear bear wiped

A lot of tears

from this little boy’s eyes

At age 16 the bear

Still remains here

Rips and several tears

This bear has insane longevity

I don't imagine

The bear is going anywhere

My son, his bear,  

The black version of TED

"Ma, can you fix my bear?"

"Sighs"

"Sure son, bring him here."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TITLE: BEST OF FRIENDS WRITTEN BY: LUCHETTA (COOKEE) MANUS I WROTE THIS POEM ABOUT MY SON'S STUFFED TEDDY BEAR HE HAS HAD SINCE BIRTH REPLACED ONE THIS IS BEAR BEAR #2

My son's bear

Named bear bear

Worn by years

Of wear

Tear

Rough play

And a child's conversation

His bear

That had many surgeries

Often died

Sparse stuffing

His eyes

Replaced with buttons

He has only one button left

Bear bear

Flat lines

But is resurrected daily

His bestfriend

The only one who understands

His way of thinking

The bear was a gift

When he was a baby

His father

had given it to him

When he was born

Like peanut butter and jelly

Regis and kelly

That bear adorns him

Bear's personality

Was my son's creation

Invented by

his colorful imagination

To cope with not being

ready for school

Bear bear was

Low key and cool

When Tru was away

From me, his mom

Bear bear kept

Him calm

The bear stayed

By his side

Bear bear wiped

A lot of tears

from his eyes

At age 8 the bear

Still remains here

Rips and several tears

I don't imagine

The bear is going anywhere

The black version of TED

"Ma, can you fix my bear?"

"Sighs"

"Sure son, bring him here."

All reactions:

2Dionna Bryant and 1 other

Progress

Everyone is sleep, under a spell

Slow dancing the waltz music of a self-sabotaging hell 

And loving it

Loving being in the dark

Loving the ignorance

Loving being lost

Insanity has become the reality 

Of the progressive,

 in which I want no parts of

If this is progress take me backwards

Back to when love conquered all. 

Back when knowledge and wisdom were reverend 

Back when compassion was around at every corner you turned

Why can’t weeping be brought down to a minimum?

Why can’t suffering disappear? 

Exchange happiness for all of our fears?

Why are the simplest of things hard?

 I love you the way that I love the sound of vinyl records playing their signature sound.

I love you the way a cherry decorates the top of the most delicious Sunday. I love you the way whip cream looks on top of a latte. You are as satisfying as a popsicle in the hot summer sun. I admire you like the brightest star in the galaxy. I savor you like chocolate on top of strawberries. Your both beautiful and untamed like wildflowers. I love you with the insanity of van gogh and the tranquility of monet. I love you like my favorite song I hum when I'm happy. I can sip you like fine wine, slowly and get drunk of pure joy and lust. I love you like Popeye love spinach. Not like olive oil but spinach because when he consumes it he becomes super human. I think this poem could be much longer however I will stop here.. There are so many things I love that remind me of you.

As if I could save the world?

I straddle a fence 

Indecisive 

Tipping one side and another

Zero balance

Sanity is the depravity of feelings 

I'm internally bleeding

Pleading for healing

My wounds are not self inflicted

it is a gripping reality of  back stabs 

And knife jabs to my heart 

Hitting direct bullseye with each dart perfectly

as I marinate in pain

Wishing my sacrifice was equal to my gain

I am a martyr 

A mother's pain

Title: A mother's pain

Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Mauus

I love you! I love you with my soul 

Which is why when I see that distant glare in your eyes ,it causes my heart pain

Once full of life I see you slipping away

mentally into a silent death 

And there is nothing I can do!

It hurts to love you 

I keep seeing a funeral of the child I once had, now grown into a man. Drums playing, Weeping, and finally a Hurst. When I gave birth to you this is not how I rehearsed life for you.

I am in between, a tug of war, hanging on to the person you were and the amazing person I know that you could become. This person you are in between is a person that I have never seen!

Saving you it isn't up to me. It is up to God and his will! No one's fate is sealed so, I am believing in a miracle.  I sometimes take trips in the  my mind of you being a baby and me holding you.

Looking into your eyes and stroking tiny hands and feet.  

You are the artwork of God ,  you are an extraordinary gift to me. 

Only this gift 

Somehow got tainted, by life and living

I beg with tears in my eyes to hold on to you, to life,  and I pray god's love will guide 

My son life is a gift from God above to fall in love with yourself each and every day. 

I am your a mother

Your doctor

Your lawyer

Your comforter

I wish I was a Healer 

I don't know any other way to be

I love you so much my child

That loving you, I'm losing me

Morning conversation with myself

You can never appreciate the beauty of sunny days if the sun never sets. This is where I am in conflict. 

I preserve myself by keeping in my memory, vividly the sunshine in the midst of my darkness. 

I have regrets that I need put to rest. I live every moment sober inhaling happiness anxiety and love. Contradicting 

I have laid down my life, my complete being, my self. I have sacrificed. YET ! I am not a Christ.  I DID IT , I admit for love. 

This lead to my demise. 

I missed out on living life. 

Life is short.

Short as Erie summers,  short as the peace in this Earth. 

Short as the words between enemies. 

I need to use this time wisely so I can make the journey back to me.

Tic toc does the party ever stop or is it the sound of time winding down,  running out on my clock? 

I want to float effortlessly on air without care or concern. I want to explore every possibility of what is living 

I want to see , taste and feel

Swimming Lessons

She swims freely in the same water she drowns in. The adult shell disguises the little girl within, screaming inside of her with every breath saying, " Here I am! I'm still alive, please don't let me die." -Luchetta "Cookee" Manus 2023

a poem from my boyfriend

CLYDE LONGS FOR BONNIE

I am missing you tonight lover and it aches in my chest.

Right where you would lay your troubled head and lay safe in my arms.

And sometimes when your away I'm the loneliest man in the world.

I'm loved by many but none of them love me quiet  like you.

 Because you have inspired the gift of poetry back into my sad heart.

You have coaxed the music out of my soul to be translated by my guitar.

Dear heart I'm throbbing with need..

My hands need  to caress you and feel the softness of you chocolate skin.

My lips need with unquenchable desire  to kiss the full ripeness of yours.

My ears need to hear you softly breathing.

The sum of flesh, blood, and spirit, cries out to feel all of your graceful being close.

Oh how I want you sometime.

I swore to myself that I would never be here again.

I just couldn't help falling in love with you.

So fuck it.

Ride or die.

Because you only live once.

Oh my love,  I bet  everything on you and said, " Let it ride"

And if I  bust, then your my last hand.

Baby doll the air is so warm and liberating this evening.

I have a deep longing.

I want to be on a deserted dirt road.

In the truck, widows down, music up, under the  stars shining like stolen diamonds.

As we expose what God made to the night.

Sharing each other completely.

Oh my love I am miss you right now. 

And this love poem is how I want to tell you that.

Because for some reason nobody writes love poems anymore.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Do you understand I can see you? Peek a boo! Not Casper!

Yes I can see right through you. 

I say mirror mirror on the wall...

can all these broken peices become one whole?

There you are!

A reflection of you. 

Which image is more true? The answer is both. 

They are one in the same. It is the inside that is stained.

life

Title: Life

Written by: Luchetta(Cookee) manus 11/23/2022

In this world, there is more mud than sand.

Cards in hand, you make the most of every moment you can.

Contentment is a small space in mental places of confusion.

The illusion is control.

The reality is griping joy while managing pain in your soul.

Love, an Artist

My insatiable desire to create breaths life within me.- Love an Artist

Leaving it behind

Written by:Luchetta(Cookee) Manus 2021

Control, alt, delete

Control, alt, delete 

It's alarming and both fascinating how our thoughts work. Sensory overload of traumatic  experiences is like the programming of your brain. Damaged are the files. They are all errored. 

Control is a sinister spirit. Its like a dog with a leash around his neck. The dog is smarter than his master who is holding the chain.  Control is a strong delusion of the the illusion of power. The heartbreaking shame in the allowance of control is apparent.  Manipulation made this all possible. Altering the reality of what is real and what isn't.  Altering depth and truth and perception.  Altering of emotion. It's the light at the end of the tunnel.  Is it the hope for better ? Is it that the calvary is coming?  Is it the train with its light on traveling at high speed to hit you head on? Is it the beginning birth? or death end?

Delete the pride and eliminate the hurt. Delete the toxicity which keeps the soul stagnant in growth and light.  Delete the chains binding the process of healthy thoughts and delete what blinds us from visualizing outside the box delete unrealistic expectations set by others who never once knew what it is like to be free. 

Freedom! doesn't that sound soothing?

Control, alt, delete 

Control, alt, delete

Apply Pressure

People want to see diamonds, yet despise the process which creates them. The admiration which is achieved from their illumination. , sparkle, and luster can be a deterrent of a strenuous process which bestows so much beauty. Created by the pain. 

It is adorned. It hard dismiss loss when even when you recognize the gain

All I remember is running Part 2

I always am aware of what I am running from, never what I run to. The confusion and confliction leads to a inner question. Is this growth or a benediction?

Poem Title: Humble in his Sacrifice Written by Luchetta(Cookee)Manus 2021

It must have taken fortitude to be the water for so many dehydrated flowers, and the nightmare of never having the thirst being  quenched for yourself. 

They bloomed, they stretched their petals in the sunlight with pride and a middle finger back at you in arrogance. 

 A canvas you helped paint, answering His call of maintenance, to God's distressed creation.  Your saturation help flourish so many tamed flowers growing wildly now. In God's name

Others enjoy the fruits of the labor. You were hoping to savor some of it for yourself. After all it is the benefit of reaping what is sown.  Others admired your bouquets they never watered.  And those who have forgotten, without you, their beauty and delight would have stayed dry and barren.

Your spirit is like water. It settles yet it is still needed in different spaces and areas. Yet moving, however always moving without rest needing a home.

Even lakes and oceans have a place to exist.

Those in your past have depleted your dreams. Those flowers choke the beauty you spread. You are moving and living and nothing in your path stays dead.

Title: Epiphany Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus 2021

epiphany 

A sort of awakening 

When the truth hits the light just right and you see more clearly

Perception changes when the light rearranges.  

Everything becomes strange 

The shadows which once caused fear

No longer causes pain

It has lost its sting. 

I have overcome monsters and frightening things. -  Luchetta(Cookee) Manus

Poem title: Precipice Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus2021

I wonder when was my end and where did I begin. 

When 

it was my end, then that is where  I began. 

When I died, I lived.   -Luchetta (Cookee) Manus