She Prefers Humans

My sister is also a werewolf
and her name is Stasis Ann
she sleeps with one eye open
and hunts whenever she can.

She likes the taste of humans
and especially overweight men
they’re easier to catch by far,
and have less fight in them.

To see her you wouldn’t believe
she was capable of doing this,
but once she’s seduced her man
they get a lot more than a kiss.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Lost Inspiration

When I’m at a loss and searching for inspiration,
I feel as though I’m standing on an empty street.
The plastic bag I’m holding is full of blusters
and the coldness of the pavement numbs my feet.

The silence of the street reflects my imagination,
no movement to evoke a creative thought.
Not a single bird to cause a sudden disturbance;
even the chimneys bring up naught.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Primroses

They moved with grace
on a warm spring day;
the rhythm of nature
in a flowing ballet.

Side by side they moved
in a performance of mime,
until they touched
and became entwined.

A change of direction
by the southerly breeze
separated their stems
by kissing their leaves.

With blushed yellow petals
they recovered their pose
and one again danced
amongst the purple and the rose.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Life’s Cycle

A gasp of air was sent from above
and was carried further on the wings of a dove.
A gust of wind carried it on to its intended place
where an intake of breath gave a life its first taste.

This first breath known as a life giving spirit
stays with a soul until it reaches life’s limit.
From there it’s returned from whence it came
to be rejuvenated and sent to a new life again.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Memories

Where do our memories go when we can’t remember?
Do they go down the endless pit of a memory drain,
or have they been misplaced, sidelined, or lost,
or are they somewhere waiting to be found again?

Or do they go into the brains memory shredder
where the less used memories become deleted.
Could eventually all our memories go in there
leaving our memory completely depleted?

poem by Orlando Belo
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December Walk

The sun casts morning shadows
over the frost covered ground.
Blackbirds search for breakfast,
but there’s nothing to be found

Yesterday’s watery puddles
are now solid and frozen over.
Warm breath turns to ice-cold
as it shows in frosty vapour.

The bird population of the lake
are in the iced reduced pool.
Many are left to skate on the ice,
but the seagulls still rule.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Friends

A Chinese donkey called Hee Haw
has a cat friend called Mee How.
Mee How upset poor Hee Haw,
so their friendship’s over now.

Hee Haw became very lonely
because he missed Mee How,
but then he met a sheep dog
by the name of Bhow Wow Wow.

He Haw was now content and happy
with his new friend Bhow Wow Wow,
but then Mee How said she was sorry,
so they’re all friends together now.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Don’t Judge A Book By Its Cover

Don’t judge me by the way I look
and by the way I have my hair.
Don’t judge me by my dirty shoes
and by the way my jeans have tears.

Don’t think because I have tattoos
that I’m not nice to know.
Don’t think because I swear
that I have no feelings to show.

My appearance is a defence
to how I feel inside.
My sensitivity is my weakness
so my appearance is just a lie.

poem by Orlando Belo
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The Creator

God gave us life, spirit, love,
freedom of thought and choice.
God gave us a questionable mind,
and his presence to hear our voice.

God gave direction based on goodness,
freedom, and brotherly love.
God gave us our conscience
to remind us of what is good.

God gave us eyes to see
and a brain to give us sight.
An open choice of several paths
and opportunities to put wrongs to right.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Mitchell (3)

When you were here you filled our lives everyday
And you still do, now that you have passed away.
We already miss your smile and sympathy lip
And the touch of your skin and finger grip.
Your sparkling eyes that brought us happiness
And the way you loved our touch and sloppy kiss.
If ever a person had the ability to touch another
It was you Mitchell, a friend to all, son, and brother.

poem by Orlando Belo
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