Best Love Poems Network - Not Poetry: Essays & Stories

Fictional Account

DaRe — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 06:02:24 -0700

Fictional Account

My name is Isata Olynka. I am a 21 year old ex-slave. I was born in Nigeria. I lived with my parents and my three brothers and sisters. I had so much fun there. There were festivities every day. You were never despondent. Every day was filled with happiness. The food was delicious and I always had something fun to do. The day of my 16th birthday party, these men who didn’t look like us came into our village. They started snatching women, men, and children from their homes. The next thing I know, they kicked in our door and grabbed my mother. My father tried to help her, but the strange men beat him with some type of weapon. Blood was everywhere. I tried to keep my little brothers and sisters. From screaming so they couldn’t see or hear us. It was too late. Each man grabbed us and put us in bags and dragged us out the house. I can hear my little brothers and sisters screaming “MOMMY DADDY SAVE ME” but they already captured my parents. They stripped us of our clothing and threw us into this foreign place. It felt like I was there for eternity. I am so hungry. This white man motioned for me to come here, so I came to him. He then started to talk to another white man, the nest thing I know I am being chained to someone and pushed onto a boat. On the boat we were stuck in these small places that were very uncomfortable. We were on the ship forever. After a while, the smell of urine, feces, and vomit started to linger around. I wanted to die. One day I realized my mother was on the same boat as I. She looked horrible. Her face looked like it’s been sucked dry and her body is covered from scars from being abused. She looks as dead as the rest of us. When we were able to go up to the deck, my mother killed herself. She jumped overboard. Another day they took us up out on the deck and forced us to sing and dance. When they saw that all of us wasn’t doing what they were told they would beat us. One day when we were on the deck I noticed that this man kept staring at me. When it was time for us to go back downstairs, he grabbed me and pushed me into his cabin. He started to kiss me on my neck. I wanted to fight him but I was scared to push him off of me. He took off his clothes and got on top of me. The pain was unbeatable. Blood started to trickle down my leg. Then he beat me and pushed me off the bed. I couldn’t sleep for days. After a while the shipped stopped. They ordered us to get off the ship and step on a land I’ve never witnessed before. There were innumerable white men standing around. I was sold to a white man who lived in Virginia. I worked from the time the sun rose until the sun set. I lived there until my 19th birthday. I then started to work for a man who lived in Maryland. While I was there I learned how to read and white. After two years I planned an escape. A fellow slave named Pacoway and ran away when it was time for everyone to fall asleep. Pacoway fell but I had to keep going. I couldn’t stop. I had to keep running until I felt I was safe. I finally saw a sign that said “Delaware State Line”. That’s when I knew I was free. I currently live in New York. I wish my mom could’ve held out a little longer. I wish I knew the whereabouts of my family. But that’s the past; I have to focus on my present and future.

you are my forever love

chernor — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 09:55:42 -0700

Your friendship and love,
And all the wonderful things
That they bring into my life,
Are like nothing else
I have ever known.

My heart is complete
With the love we share,
And our love grows more
Beautiful each day.

I love you,
And as long as we are together,
I have everything I need.

You are with me always...
In a smile, a memory, a feeling
Or a moment we share.

You will always be
My Forever Love

My Conclusion

Purewil — Tue, 20 Mar 2007 06:18:07 -0700

Ya know... at one time... I used to belive that love was everything. Unfortunately, I took this philosophy quiet literally. But as I began thinking yesterday on what love really is I began to understand why love isn't everything. Yes... there are certain kinds of love, but I'm talking about real love.

After reforming my thoughts I've come to believe that it is the feelings people have with one another. It is a bond between two people(notice I said 2) and how strong that bond gets depends only on the people involved. Anyone outside this bond cannot do anything to make this bond stronger,(or easier) because this sacred bond also has to weather the time, temptations, other people, and just plain human nature.

CHRONICLE FOR FRANCINETE

EdemilsonReis — Sun, 18 Feb 2007 15:05:59 -0800

SHE IS BIG IRRELEVANTE, BUT ALSO IT IS ANGEL DEATH AND WITH SAD SYMPHONY NOT HAVE CHARM...
SHE IS MY MORE ERROR IN ALL LIFE...
SHE IS NEGATIVE GIRLFRIEND
SHE IS PAST WITH ACID JOKE
SHE IS GIRL WITH VIRUSES
SHE IS DRAM TO MY DAYS
SHE IS ANGEL WITH SARCASM INTOLERANCE OF BAD LUCK RELATION...
SHE IS FREAK WITH THEIR AIR OF DESINSPIRATION TO MY PEOPLE
SHE IS PEOPLE NON GRATA...
SHE IS MOST INCONVENIENT FEMALE IN THIS PLANET, ALSO IT IS MOST DIABLO IN FORM OF HORROR...
SHE IS MOST SIN, MOST SIN CITY OF DARK ALONE DEATH FOR WEEK'S...
BUT SHE IS ALREADY PAST...
THANK YOU GO

LEDA AND HER DEMON LOVER

ROBERTDAVIDSON — Sun, 11 Feb 2007 03:24:53 -0800

LEDA AND HER DEMON LOVER

By Robert Davidson

Mirrors are living lies, Leda Angelopolos thought. They reflect only the outside. And not the fiend living within.

Leda stopped a moment to look into her dressing-table mirror. At times she felt there was another person, other than herself, her everyday self that she knew so well, looking back at her. To her, this was a self she feared - one that she had many times tried to ignore, and yet here it was at this moment attempting to assert itself. She shuddered, and turned away from the glass.

E-Mail Tracing Services

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Chinese Food and Wine

secretfantasy4 — Mon, 05 Sep 2005 22:54:01 -0700

Weekend nights are the loneliest at all the time! Because I always have bad relationships with men in the present, I am tired been stood up by them and put down a lot by them. The only way to save my heart from getting broken is to keep a promise to me that I will never go on a date anymore. But, I have the fantasies for sexual desire and to be love. I don’t have anyone to romanticize me with roses and candles to dine, to share my sexual fantasies with. Instead, I always eat Chinese food; drink a glass of red sweet wine and watch a romantic movie on television to romanticize myself during these lonely weekend nights. Until one Friday night, I had went in to china café the where I go all the time to place my take out order. As usually I order roast pork lo mein and a spring roll, and then I go pick up a bottle of red wine from next door.

Wed, 31 Dec 1969 16:00:00 -0800

n/a

Wed, 31 Dec 1969 16:00:00 -0800

n/a

Oh, you dont love me?

dimitri0917 — Wed, 13 Apr 2005 17:53:35 -0700

I want this poem off the web... sorry! And it so happens I need 25 words... so hi you one person who will read this! Thx. for looking... It was kinda first on a yahoo search of my screenname so i don't want people to kno about this poem it was kinda sick... but romantic too!