Pole Dancer

Sweat drips as she swing around the pole
her heart racing

She smiles at the guys as she pulls herself around
her eyes shining

She looks into the croud as she dances on the stage
her mind steady

She watches the guys who look intersted as she strips
her lust showing through her eyes

She spins around the pole again as she grinds with her body
her fingers wrapped tight around the pole

She lets her hair fall over her face and body as she stops
her body ready

She stands in a pose as the guys flood to her
her chest pullsing

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Learning from within

As i think I learn,
I see whats inside my head,
Things I didn't know, things that haunt me.
And I think what will change, and what will come,
Think of pain, of love,
I think of confidence, of music.
And I know everyone thinks, everyone learns through themselves.
I know this, yet I still think,
Of who I am, of what others think.
But what does that matter, all you control is yourself,
And I think,
Of life, of death,
Of everything that exists, and everything that has stopped existing.
I think of myself, of others,
And somehow I learn,
Without teachers, without being told anything,
Maybe that's why we think,
To learn, to become ourselves.
Maybe that's why we exist,
To learn through ourselves,

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Soul of Flames

I sit and watch as the flames lick at the bricks
The red, and orange tipped beauty
The tongues of fury lick
As it burns through the wood and metal preforming its duty

The red hipmotizing, the orange bright
I watch the light fill the black
What a wonderful sight
Bringing the memories back

The house falls to pieces as I sit and stare
My tears falling to the ground
My eyes filled whith the flames glare
My tears fall to the ground without a sound

I sit and watch as the flames lick at the bricks
The red, and orange tipped with beauty
The flames swirl and mix
As I sit in silence intranced with love and lust

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Sea of Immortality

The river flows through life as fish in the sea
The soul follows every twist every turn
Follow them and you will see
Follow life as it goes in time you will burn
Life flows as a river around turns and bends please follow me

Follow the river through its course
Through The pain and trials
Follow with truth if in vain the pain will worsen
Through The long hard miles
Follow the river through its course

Through the dams past the currents will flow
Through the trees and vines that you know
Some places flow high some flow low
Some filled with pleasure some with woe
Yet it shall not slow

The river of life it flows through the turns
Follow as the river moves on

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Pace For Life.. For Death/ Do We Really Know

Why does life end?
Is it our sould that you mend?
Or just for our hearts that you send,
When our lives begin to bend.
Is it for our lives that you fend?
Our bodies that you tend.

In our minds we know,
But is it truelly we know?
Are you friend? Or are you foe?
Where is it you tell us to go?
Do we have the choice to say no?
Is ift fast or is it slow?

Through our eyes we see your face,
As black as nothing, as white as lace.
What now do we truelly face?
Are you the end of the race?
Are you the next base?
Or just here to set a pace?

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The Key to The Mind

You have given me the key to your mind
Oh, how I thought you so kind

I look in the mirror to see your face
As my heart fills with discrace

I see you standing there
As your eyes they stair

I know you are gone
But my heart still sings it's sad song

I know you have left me to be alone
But yet I can still smell your cologne

I see your eyes as they burn into my soul
Making my heart a simmering coal

I know you have betrayed me
yet still the truth I do not see

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Fictional Remembrance

Sing to me sweet melody,
Teach me what there is to learn,
I yearn for purpose to write my thoughtful word.

Lead me into a place unknown,
Show me a lit path that once lay in shadow,
Illuminate the weary sky.

Remember my words I speak to you,
Sing this line as one once sang for life,
The piano keys holding sweet memory.

Dreams becoming reality as reality fades to fiction,
Awakening the living to a world of wonder,
My mind creating the world I speak of.

Rock me to sleep away from the day to day,
Keep me alive in the lonely song of the wolf,
Tell me stories of the life I never lived.

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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I have a dream

'I have a dream! '
The man on the platform began...
'I have, a dream.'
The people all around cheering, clapping.
The signs were raised in the sky.
The man spoke strong and true,
His voice singing with hope, equality, and power.
His name is King, Marting Luther King, Jr.
His dream is to have white and black people equal.
To have friendship between them, to have no vision of color.

'I solemly swear! '
The man on the platform begain...
'I do so solemly swear.'
The people all around cheering, clapping.
The signs were raised in the sky.
The man spoke strong, and determined,
His voice filled with change, with strength.
His name is Obama, Barack Obama.
He is the begining of the future, and the present.

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Jilted Tongue

Growing up in this time,
So many things rushing around us,
We see things one should never see,
We hear what one should never hear.
And still when we know it is wrong,
We speak with a jilted tongue.

As we grow old we see again,
The truth of the wicked that has polluted our minds,
And we sink into a shadow hiding from it all,
And we try to clear our mind of hate and of wrong,
But still the past is there,
Still we remember a time we spoke with a jilted tongue.

Remember who you are as you see what is all around you,
Believe in what you are and what you can be by following what's true,
Never look at things you see that no one should see,
Never listen to the things you hear that no one should hear,
Know that it is wrong,
And do not speak with jilted tongue.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Three. Two. One.

Three.Two.One.Gone.

All.
There is.
Left.

Three.Two.One.Gone.

Nothing.
More to.
Do.

Three.Two.One.Gone.

More .
To Living.
Life.

Three.Two.One.Gone.
Come.

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poem by Bethany Maxwell
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