Pen is mightier than the sword

Pen is mightier than the sword
Writing what I think, before I say it!

Monday, July 30, 2012


o     In my dreams,
I wake to you smiling at me
but yours eyes are still sleep
your dreams are about me dreaming about us
because last night was love making
it was the making of commitment for us
I never knew loving you would turn me on
I mean from the sight during our one plight
against my chest and lap, I still feel you
   I wish it would storm
so every touch is felt
eye contact wood have hit
to the striking of lightning
That every kiss was caught in a flash
in weathering skies
that thunder would make you jump
coordinating with each other’s thrust
maybe I should have gone inside
to bring love making in teachings
open your mind
to only concentrate on what we are doing
so you can laugh at your past
that all those contenders were
subtractions and divides
to our adds and multiplies
   I can see it in your eyes
but your fears of us being just then
and then turning away
would leave what happen
that night to stay.......behind us
but we were blinded by fear
we knew we wanted love
not the scenario that would follow
and hunt us to what IF's tomorrows
   praying one day
your head will lay on that empty pillow
beside me
that we are celebrating years in
after that day we finally met each other
years ago....
Wishing on a moment my arms will cramp
in a lock position
so I can never let go
praying, praying, prayers......

By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Monday, July 23, 2012


I remember sitting out front eating sweets
while grandpop sweeped and muttered and sweeped
"I'm going to learn you something boy"
"boy you hear me?"
... "I'm going to learn you something"
Summer spent in DC on the N.E. corridor
1st & Rhode Island I remember
just me and my brother
in stripe Izods short sleeves
tall 3 stripes sox, cut off shorts, I think Levi jeans
sporting a shag like Billie Dee
Couldn't wait to sip on one of those King Cobras or Cult 45's
Little girls giggling playing double dutch and hopscotch
boys acting like girls were yucky at the age of 7
Neighborhood gang making their rounds
always spray painting their names on pops corner store wall
he went and got his gun
they run
he stand outside yelling with his gun
they still run
we thought that was fun
funny to see them run spots run
Pops sure love that store
mom didn't sweep her house that much
like Pops was sweeping that corner store floor
Pops was real smart though
only two kids at a time
was on a sign on the front door
"exact change only"
said the sign on the counter

Love them summer days
them real hot summer days
the girls in their tube tops short shorts
and Pops would look and shake his head
fresh little girls, hot in the pants he said
I started noticing girls
when I saw them lips in popsicle blue and red
rolling heads and smacking tongue everytime
they said something
they look good,
but not as good as Pops store
he swept his floor, and he swept that clean floor
that was the pride and joy of the block
the hangout spot for thugs at nights
the cool down in miday for uniform cops
they like pops
but pops got sick
he got real sick
closed sign was on the store for weeks
closed sign turned to for sale sign
but we still hung out in front of the store
closing eyes and hearing Pops sweep and muttering
Pops store was nice
and even looking like this 20 years later
its still fly.


 By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected


Sugar thickness in hidden secrets
A cob wed spins for her appetizing capture
Honey combs drip slow from this Queen Bees layer
Hungry for that thirst
invaders salivating for her flower
she becomes more than that savoring first taste
her toxins are addictions to paralzye her victims
through long awaiting spawnings


warm golden brown tears
disbursing in slithering down pours
gratification in her grin
waiting for her baited victim to take the first bite
before becoming a disappearing act in her lustful behavior
glucose keeps you wrapped in her membranes
a venus fly trap setting its sweetness
in aromas that are air filled for the hunger to follow
thickness so good, its hard to taste and swallow
honey keeps you mesmerized and starring into lost
she smiles after each victims succombs unwillingly


Not a stocked item in grocery stores
this is a dream in creams desire
only found deep in the darkest reaches of pink
an archeological question without discovering
you don't ask to be part of a taste test
you are the test for her when BLAC HONEY is tasted


By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Thursday, July 19, 2012


I have a large can of alphabet soup attached to my IV
lost ideas for words and fainted during the drought
so I'm hungry
thinking letters from this can
would give me words to my soul
the same can that went in my bowl
helping me play with my food
creating words at 5 years old

Help me!!!!!
Stuck between a long wall
the same wall that raised China
and divided Germany
I need my thoughts back please
so I sought out word searches and crossword books
desperate to write a poem
a read every Psalms in the old book
afraid to look at my writing when something came to mind
I went blind just to read my writing in grail
even then, my fingers stopped feeling
once again my writing had failed

pleading with my old poems
to make new poems for me
I'm dying from my own inks-
that dried and brain won't think-
water in my eyes, but I cry in dry spells
letters into words,
as I live heavenly in a writers block HELL...

By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Wednesday, July 18, 2012


A journal or diary
a black mead notebook
remember those?
Crying, as you scribe your mind on collegiate line
Jotting your hurt on paper
and your paper collecting tear stains
the hidden secrets before poetry was known
what about the receipts all over the place
you can't throw those scraps of written feelings away
see when paper wasn't available
... that tissue, gum wrapper, hand or on forearm
was your only mind writing storage place

curled up in small places
writings are from dark places
some scribes will shine in front of the bright lights
most may fall as the last call, through last writes(rights)
hands will always shake nervously to
heart will race in irregular beats through
every hard write cuts like samurai knife
yes the end is in releases
in pieces, it will save a life

close your eyes with me
lets go back when learning eyes and ears
only knew of a few voices to idol
where poetry was movement and expression
not words battling towards a title
So where in history will your title hold a historical title- books
where are these idols in title
when new notebooks and muttering voices
are looking for a guided model
they are seeing you
they are hearing you
and through their mouth
you be hearing you
Somehow we  lost our selves in lack of creativity
now each performer is a see through preview
of you
just now performing your style in front of you
bring it back to life
lift every voice back into your own style
be like you and no one else
writing does save
speaking volumes in your own voice helps

calling all Originality!!!!!!

BY LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected

Friday, July 6, 2012


Sweat beading on forehead
yeah I'm nervous as hell
but bare with me
this day has a story to tell
one hand in pocket
the other on the poem I wrote
lowering myself like an elevator
feeling like a electoral race
won't you cast your vote
long ago
I was preparing for you
next, I painted images of being one flesh
surprises on Birthdays, Christmases
and Valentines day
this moment was bound to happen next

my heart knew long after the exchange of names
convinced after you planted your lips to kiss
stumbling over my words,
today of all days
I rehearsed this in front of a room full of mirrors
I spoke these words while I prayed
and God approved
now I'm standing here
I'm kneeling before you
needing your hear me woooo you
requiring your see my truth
asking for your hand
the commitment rises from my pocket
and then appears like a pearl from a open clam
My life is ready
will you be part of my ongoing plan
"this metal"
formulated in circular design
circles are continuous with endings
nothing will break this bonding that
"the jewel"
its not quite a diamond
but a unique birthstone
your birthstone, on your birth month
the man reciting
is giving you an invite of a lifetime
asking in a sincere heart
while disbursing falls of tears in his eyes
"Will you be mine?"
Can you follow the lead of man
guided by the highest man
Do me the honor
to provide my Kingdom
with a Queen of one
two becoming one
Don't accept me for the ring
accept me because you are receiving your King
answer me while falling on bended knee
rejoice in our personal party
of no longer being single and un-free
I'm asking you again
look at me deeply
repeat after me please
listen, watch and feel the sincerity
I stop chasing dreams
I'm racing to win reality



By LeRoy TNW Goetzendanner Registered & Protected