Here I am,in this same place, finding myself doing the same things, trying to figure it all out.

Comparing myself with my nemesis

Repeating the cycles

God it hurts myself to hurt myself

So many times we know what needs to be done but we don’t do it,

We give advice that we don’t apply,

And we don’t learn from our mistakes,we believe the lies,

Many of us suffer from childhood traumas,

Things we never healed from,it affects how and who we love,

How we express our love

It defines us and we usually take it as an identity it’s who I am

Na it’s who you choose to be,

It’s the circumstances you’ve allowed to make you,define you so much that you don’t know who you are anymore,

You’ve never forgiven yourself for what you had no control over,you’ve held on to the pain in hopes that it kills them, but it’s only slowly killing you,

Your nightmares are constantly your reality,

You are gleaning unto what you know but not what’s always right,

Burned by circumstance hurt by chance,

Longing to learn,to break free, finally but you don’t know how.

Written by



Was inspired

By the stroke of your hand on my skin,

The scent of morning coffee,butter cookies,

The Mystery of the night,the way they light a millions gallaxies so bright,

Inspired by the scent of your body,the filling up of my nostrils as you hold me,

The way you whisper my name,

The way you love me all the same,even when there is nothing to be gained,

But my time and love,

Our love inspires me

Written by

Laurna Guiste

Joe’s Square

It’s Friday and I’m heading to Joe’s square,

Joe’s square where the drunk men tip heavy,

And the waitresses swear,

Where no one cares if your back is bear,

And the wallpaper has lost its color and they sell the best beer.

Joe’s Square where everybody knows everybody,

And if they don’t means your just not from there,

Joe’s Square where the music starts at six and ends at one,

Joe’s Square where everyone hangs to have a lil fun,

A place to release some stress after a long week,

Joe’s square is not for the weak,cause the bar man will roast you if you too shy to speak,

Its the place for the bold,loud and obnoxious

A place you’ll forget by Monday cause of what you drank there,

But by Friday you’ll be right back at the Square.

Written by


Monthly Visits


This unpleasant visitor is at my door again,

The one that not only irritates you but causes some kind of physical pain,

He purposefully scratches against the wall, sometimes kicks the sides,and lingers

He makes a slow,painful trail in the hallway,

Leaving marks,sometimes stains,he’s so disgusting

He makes all the neighborhood women Moody,angry,irate

Some women are sick enough to get horny for the old prick,

We surely get tired of him coming around,

Sometimes he stays three days,five, seven all depends on the woman

Sometimes he shows up early and though he’s not directly at your door knocking he leaves a note saying I’ll be with you shortly.

He’s so annoying and can you believe he comes every month!!

Yea,dressed in a slick, red suit,

No one misses him but he surely reminds us of our womanhood.

Written by


Full Moon

Moonlight glistening against our skins

against our bare naked skins,

Absorbing the perfect glow,

Going with the flow,

Locking tongues,

tasting sweat,

feeling heat,

being swept off my feet

being held,

caressed and punished,

Feeling loved

Feeling your energy,your heart,

Becoming one,

Breaking free

underneath this full moon.

Written by

Laurna G

Taste the Rainbow

Long,hard strokes

Steady wrist movements,

A clean canvas,

soon becomes messy,wet and runny,

Streams of hotness,

A stiff hand makes for fine lines,hitting the same spot

over and over,over and over

Till it breaks free from strain and lets the lines wiggle and become

creative with the outskirts,

An array of colors,hues and texture,

Passionate blue,steamy red,hot fires,

Soft then rough,faster then slower, a steady hand

A picture that screams with desire,

A pure nakedness yet quickly covered with kisses of inspiration,

Leaving marks,breaking backs,beauty and pain,

A stroke done over and over again,

One started at dawn lingers all day,

A painting that keeps you up,

becomes your morning coffee

and you’re not tired but filled with glee,

This is my passion I take it all in,

Finish painting now then I’m back at it again,

A drug or a remedy all depends on the moment

the energy,the why

How much color I got left

all depends on the vibe

Written by



It’s a vibe that’s going on and I wanna be part of it,

I want to hold it without fear and have an experience like no other,

Be lost,enveloped in it’s webs of wires,

Be immersed in new age,taught and re birthed,

Run my fingers over each new module,

understand each molecule,

This generation has manipulated it,taken advantage of and exceeded boundaries,

Bringing a world that’s far away closer,made it personal,

Made the once impossible,possible and again taken innovation to a higher level.

Written by

Laurna G

Neck of our Woods..Amazon Forest

Much to my dismay fire had entered my home and instead of keeping us warm they torched our paths

Leaving me thirsty and dry with little and no options for survival,

My madras leaves no longer hid my long legs,

I became naked,uncovered and open with ugliness,

These greedy men,their heat turned my beauty into a playground,

Cleared my hair to see where they could break ground,

Teared my family apart,ripped out my heart and still expected a thud,a sound,

Giving me reasons why they had to burn me down,

Camouflaging their intentions as if they could fool me,

and others to see the greater good,

Treating me like I’m not part of the reason for the oxygen in their chest,

and that in my bed lays many babies that are fed,

They don’t see my need or the importance of my herbs,

But in their selfishness they have killed mother earth,

and as I lay here breathless,tell me what is it worth,

To lose me and to gain the world

To lose the marks tattooed in my back

To lose my history,to destroy my paths

But in losing me you’ve come to lose your self.

Written by

Laurna G


Piercing eyes that reveal more than words could ever utter,

A kiss on the chick,eyelids that flutter,

An innocent hug,a rub, a simple touch,means so much,

when it’s just us,

No awkward silence or bursting our heads,our topics are like old time books waiting to be read, A hot flame waiting to be fed,

A scent that’s unfamiliar yet it feels like deja vu, a movie I’ve seen staring just us two,

A blank slate, a pen and a golden wrist.

empty pages waiting on an a artist

Waiting for something to commence,to combine to start

Something marked in history,

Ready to make some art.

Written by Laurna G

Do not be afraid of their faces

My palms were sweaty and mouth was dry

My heart was pounding like an elderly man on Viagra,

The calmness of my nerves were so far,

 And my legs were shaky,

I couldn’t sit still as I pondered my words over and over again,

The fact that my name was about to be called terrified me,

This Path that I was on, wasn’t my choice,

But I wanted to help others with what I had, which proved to be my voice,

My words, my motivation, would help them soar,

I had to stand eventually and make it to the front,

My trembling fingers played the chords to their applaud,

I stood behind the pulpit and near almost fainted,

I wanted to run and not stare at their faces,

But I knew I had to stand still and deliver my speech.

Calm down, take out my notes and commence to teach

Face my fears, and trust that it was going to be alright,

Be bold and kick the fear monster far out of sight.

Written by

Laurna G