write a book of poetry

i love poetry but ive never has the nerve to do it

I did not write and publish a book of poetry but this is no longer important to me. I just don’t want to totally delete it so I am moving it to things I’ve done. That way I have a record that this was once a goal.

my head sinks into the pillow
u make me purr ,as a cat with great comfort.
and i beg u,please,run your fingers through my hair.

the traces of your prints on my skin
send a tingle trhough every bone, muscle and nerve
plese,run your fingers thorugh my hair.

it’s been a while now
my physical being has no comfort to embrace in
only my tears seek the comfort of having your fingers wipe them away.
i beg u once more,run your fingers thorugh my hair,orlando!
and embrace me ,once more!

This has been one of my (many) life long goals. It is a laborious, but nonetheless spiritual, process. Maybe I need a little more life experience!

The Nature of a Stray Heart
I heard before on many lonely ears “Like a moth to a flame” we get burned. After a time we loose ourselves, in choices that are made and mistakes lead to regret. But I think of that regret, slow pain that burns the back of my mind and think why?
Tears of hate and betrayal fill the room with a hint of selfishness, love and lust are now twisted as strange bed fellows. The game is being played, and only few are playing. But who are the players and who is being played? The cheater knows and the lover receives, but someone is in the dark. Who will get hurt?
Time to wake up and back track. Time to return to the once was and escape from the here and now. Some things wont let go, but who’s fault is it? The choices that are made form the direction of MY path. My regret is in my selfishness, slowly burning a hole in my soul. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know which way is up any more. I am confused by my own doing. But i am all too familiar with the sweetness of temptation and seduction.
But thats only part of it.

I was hit by a truck, or should i say blind sided when we met. It was just a harmless glance…so I thought. I should have known there was a price to pay- but I pressed on. Caught by her smile, I didn’t know where I was going. Strange things happen when the eyes make contact.
We spent endless hours talking, playing the games that lovers play..in secret. I used to watch her take baths and she would talk to me. I would watch her in the tub and she seemed more at home in the water then anyone had ever been. At that point I knew I was in trouble. I should have ran, but you know the nature of a man…right? How the hell did i end up here? A slave of the most powerful thing on this earth… a woman (lack of a better word).
She undresses and dresses for me, the sweet powder of her skin fills the room. She waits for me and I make her laugh. Time seems endless but it slips on by. The betrayal seems all but forgotten, Either she doesn’t care or doesn’t want know. Well I am not going to remind, or rewind, or destroy a good time. Life is what we make it. But the truth is a man must go home sometimes. So my prison is when I see her face, haunt by the memory of my guilt. The mirror reveals my soul and the eyes hide no lies.

Maybe later, but not right now.

But I did write it.

I complement the presence of their lives. Each face more beautiful then the last, I must admit that I have learned something. A man’s path is wild and wide- then wise and knowledgeable. Learning from each face and each taste- he develops a preference. He chooses wisely. As a boy he is hurt, as a man he learns from each mistake. Slow and fast as time go’s by he learns of puppy love and lost true love, he becomes like stone….. This is the path and steps of a man. Many mornings he will awake to a strange face, but always remembering them, but never their names. They will haunt him with pleasure and with horror, developing him into what God meant for him to be. Love to him is a whisper, only to himself. He will always guard himself and keep a room in his heart that is off limits. The ways of a woman are beautiful, tempting and seductive. And a man is weak because he is human. So “I” take the time to speak and share time, to stop the dripping that plagues my mind. Truth is a man wants to love with no limits. But a woman can destroy a man with a force more powerful then any natural disaster under God. Because she is he- and of one flesh. She holds and produces life and death. What is love when we hide behind bushes? If i touch you, can you feel me? And when our eyes meet, without words, can I have you? A man is physical, a woman is emotional. So therefore he is left confused and silent. Listen to me- Touch the stone and love the inner. Embrace the moment and calm the inner. For there reasons he has learned and developed from the essence of SHE, of HER, of the ways of a woman. So what do I say when I see your face and look into your eyes? Like a child I become shy and then evasive. Why? Because you see me….the truth. Men see me as a mans man. But you show me a different way. I am lost without the love of someone like you. To describe you would seem impossible but i will try. You are the essence of light and life. Your voice seems divine and God lives because he made you. Age is timeless and you are immortal- I always want to remember you like this. This time This moment This YOU. You will never be “to me” as beautiful as you are right now. So i guess your my Muse. I can be only lucky to have you, just once in my life time.

I’ve written two poetry books. I’m currently working on my third right now. If anyone needs help, or has any questions, feel free to send me a message.

-John Albrecht Jr., author of If Heaven’s Forever

I don,t want to write anything that you have to search for hidden meanings and symbolism Id like to tell my story and those of others Im lucky enough to meet on my way through this world.. I heard a song that ARlo Guthrie wrote about Victor Jara, and it inspired me , things can be so simple and yet so moving, I hope perhaps to help spread that feeling