Passionate Soul

Passion feeds the soul
In its absence hunger endures
An incessant yearning
For what was once known
Festers in the shadow of your heart
It hungers for the nourishment
Cast by the light of love.

Jéan-Pierre, Dean
Copyright © www.deanthepoet.com
7:44pm...1-09-07

The Beauty of Who You Once Were

Everything you are can’t be hidden
The mask you portray is a mirror
That can easily be read like the blind reading Braille
To touch you, one would feel all the hurt inside your heart
That you so easily hide but you glide through your days
With that smile so disarming it’s mistaken for charming
You no longer know who you are
You’re a child lost in a world of dysfunctional adults
An innocent soul corrupted by a false ego that led you astray
The path back to righteousness isn’t so easily bought
Everything you once were is seen in the faces of innocent children
Laughter so haunting it pierces the dark corners of your soul
In the middle of nowhere you fall to your knees
Beg the Lord God for forgiveness please
And tears stream down your face unashamed
The barren soil beneath you soaks up your pain
The beauty that once lived in you will make this ground fertile
Flowers of every color spring forth born of the dreams from your heart
The ones who will come after will enjoy
The beauty of who you once were.

Jéan-Pierre, Dean
1-10-07…11:00am
Copyright © www.deanthepoet.com

Breath of Beauty

Breath of beauty
My soul tastes her energy
My mind partakes of her essence
Allowing me to merge with her being
And it’s a beautiful thing
To see natural beauty,
Just a breath away from my grasp
She’s an entity living in the air
Even when she leaves,
She will still be here
A part of my memory
Freed to roam through my collective conscience
Dissecting every facet of her beauty
When all is done and said
I am left to marvel that such a wondrous creature
Breathes the same air as me.

Jéan-Pierre, Dean
Copyright ©www.deanthepoet.com
4-3-07…10:16pm

Sweet Pain

The sweet pain of love’s touch
Is only sweet in the aftermath
When memory becomes selective
To ease our heart of remembering
In the moment, pain is unrelenting
Searing the heart deeper than any sword
Than any pain man can concoct
From the depths of his imagination
Not even man can conjure up
The brutality of a heart left in ruins
Of a love that was once so beautiful
Left alone to suffer for all eyes to see
Love once growing is now decaying
Passion is now another word for anger
The depths of feelings that love can elicit
From all hearts she touches
Is a testament to her inherent passion
For life and destruction.

Jéan-Pierre, Dean
Copyright ©www.deanthepoet.com
5-4-07…12:54pm