These poems you are about to read are not made up. These are my life and my pain. I have lived a life full of violence and alcoholism. These words come straight from my heart and are not for the weak. Iave led a crazy life for being so young. Read my poetry, but be warned, itas graphic. If you get offended easily then this isnat for you, acause I donat candy-coat my life. Iam as real as they come, and if you canat handle it, then you canat handle my reality.
A collection of poems written by a young army veteran, about life during war and the post war affects on the mind, body and soul. Starting life again after coming home to find love and friendship that was never expected.
Those interested in the history of the infamous Younger Brothers of Missouri know eldest brother Cole’s story. Or at least they think they do. Cole told it enough times. Yet his autobiography, his dozens of interviews, and the stories he told to his friends and family members unfortunately tell a story quite different from researched history of the same times and events. John and Bob died young and never had the opportunity to tell their side of it all. And brother Jim remained silent. Until now. Tortured Soul: Jim Younger in His Own Words finally reveals Jim’s memories, thoughts, and opinions. Although Jim’s recollections are also mired in selective memories and a certain distortion brought about by the passage of time, a damaged psyche, and a need to protect himself and those he loved, the story Jim tells is based on his history and his desire to set Cole’s tall tales in their proper perspective.
Since the beginning of time; sometimes some peoples chose to write about their life experiences. In these works, I have just done that but in a form of Poetry because Love is the Stranger. Who disagrees should go on and write their version of stories about me, is their prerogative! I have been discredited by those strangers that think that they hold the powers, but I have stated the facts of the matters. The things that I heard them say about my daughter and me, but I do not possess the powers to rectify the mistakes; that have been made! As we lead our lives, we all make mistakes daily; because we are all humans and we are all fallible. Due to all that have gone on, so many times I cried myself to bed. In my darkest hours; I was consoled by my Wonderful Daughter! Instead of being the Child, She grew up faster and became the shoulders to cry on and so; I dedicate the entirety of these works to my late daughter's foundation; "FOUNDATION IN MEMORIES OF ADA-EMILA RUTH VALMORI Bsc.Hons" "BECAUSE THESE HONOURS ARE YOURS AND MUST REMAIN YOURS ALONE TILL THE END OF TIME"! To her Father; the Kindest Man truly with a heart of gold, the kindest Man on Earth of whom without; I probably would not have been here today. The Man who brought up his Stepson with the Kindest Heart as he would bring up His Own Natural Child, and To My Grandson! To another Man, a wonderful Person of whom without; we would have been homeless for much longer than necessary! He who saw that wrong was done and asked that things should be put right! To those freedom fighters of yester years, and those of today! To they who fight for the rights of the weak due to injustices in our World. To All the Descendants of Immigrants the World Over, those from the beginning of time, since Humankind, because they were the courageous pioneers; who set the pace that some of us followed! To those who have travelled abroad to cure their Child. To those that believe in Fairness and those who believe in Kindness. To those who believe in Love. To the Just Women and the Just Men of This Our Great Universe! R. I. IYEMERE.
To the reader: These poems were comprised out of much pain, suffering, mistakes, failures, bad choices keeping bad company, foolishness, ignorance, emptiness of spirit, frustration, self deprivation and some pleasure. Not to say that my suffering was any more significant than any others but in my time and in my place it seemed to be so. Self analysis is a vulnerable thing, one writes their feelings down in an effort to find vindication, or to try to come up with words that best describe how they feel. You write something down but you find that that's not it, you write a little more and again the words you find doesn't best explain how you feel. Then you dig a little deeper and you finally are able to adequately write down your feelings in words. And after finding out what's wrong with you, you ask yourself this question, do I really want people to read this about me? Peeling away the layers of your own soul can be quite humbling so at the risk of being transparent I would hope that the reader can extract some insight, inspiration, empathy and maybe even a little encouragement.
You never know when somebody will hold you to your word ... Naz has enough darkness inside of him to rid the world of every stitch of light. But there's one he could never harm: Karissa. He taunts her with his touch, gets a thrill out of torturing her soul. But he's not the most dangerous one out there ...
A poetry book full of words that you can connect with in any level of life. Photos and simple thoughts through out the pages. Feelings of raw emotions, words that carry us back to that day that left the lasting impression on our lives. As we travel through and meet one person to the next we fall in love, we cry from losing love and then we try again. All of theses passages are a everlasting mark upon our lives I hope you find those impressions in my work and connect with my words.Thank you and enjoyNamasta
With age come wisdom and understanding. It's very unfortunate that we are designed in a way that we have to achieve a certain degree of years before we are able to reflect upon our lives. Only then we can truly appreciate the pain and sorrow that our choices can cause another. This book is a collection of writings, done over the years. Some for joyous moments and others not so. The idea of this book was inspired by the artists I know. I have always written to help process some of my own emotions. Not for a moment do I consider myself an artist or a poet. Others that have read some of my work seem to identify with it for their own personal reasons.
This is the story of the other victims of German occupation in France, the story of my mother who was separated from her family and fled, and the torture that remained with her forever. These are the memoirs as told to me by my mother. I have attempted to tell her story as accurately as she presented them to me, piecing together her own written journals, along with various anecdotes that supplemented and peppered stories over my lifetime, without embellishing by interposing my own interpretations of events. This is not a suspense novel, although certainly the events recounted herein were suspenseful to those who experienced them. They certainly sounded suspenseful to me as I heard and read them. So as to avert embarrassment to anyone reading these words, I have on occasion chosen to use pseudonyms, while trying to keep the gist of the story true to form. My mother was French, and occasionally some French words and phrases appear throughout the text. I have included translations wherever appropriate. She also lived and studied in Italy before moving to Israel, and eventually to the United States. Again, where words and phrases are included in those languages, and I have included translations to the best of my ability. Translator: Yael Eylat-Tanaka PUBLISHER: TEKTIME
