Alfred Ramos

Rookie (3-2-1945 / California)

Alfred Ramos Poems

201. Winter’s Rage 2/28/2009
202. Kite Dreams 1/14/2009
203. Don’t Tell Me That I’m Wrong 2/28/2009
204. Still Absent From Your Eyes 3/2/2009
205. Cain And Abel 3/12/2009
206. Autumn Slipping Away 3/17/2009
207. Extreme Terror 3/19/2009
208. Dreaming Again 4/11/2009
209. Open Book 4/11/2009
210. Which Came First 4/12/2009
211. The Wall 4/16/2009
212. It’s What You Do To Me 4/16/2009
213. Maybe One Day 4/21/2009
214. What Last Forever? 5/5/2009
215. Downfall Of An Affair 5/9/2009
216. Pristine Moon 5/15/2009
217. Katrina 5/20/2009
218. Another Sleepless Night 5/26/2009
219. Nora, Nora 6/1/2009
220. Padded Dreams 6/1/2009
221. Drinking Buddies 6/3/2009
222. No Broken Hearts Allowed 6/22/2009
223. Sand In My Hand 7/9/2009
224. A Peripheral View Of The World 7/13/2009
225. Baby Jar Eyes 7/15/2009
226. Imaginary Lover 7/17/2009
227. Nerga Part Ii (Intimate Strangers) 7/17/2009
228. Empty Rooms 7/31/2009
229. White Space 8/1/2009
230. Random Thoughts 9/7/2009
231. Darkness Etched In The Heart 9/9/2009
232. The Show 9/15/2009
233. My Church 9/24/2009
234. If You Want Me 9/24/2009
235. Nothing In Between 9/25/2009
236. Perspective From A Songbird 9/30/2009
237. Black Wind 9/30/2009
238. Echoes In The Dark 8/10/2009
239. The Affair 8/31/2009
240. Without Measure 8/31/2009

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Best Poem of Alfred Ramos

A Mother's Love

I held her hand as tight as I could
Even though I knew it would not do much good
Her breath was shallow and weak
If only my eyes could speak
She would see I felt just as much pain
And the tears I’m trying to contain
I don’t want her to know
I’m having a real problem letting her go
That a piece of me was dying too
As another side of darkness was slipping through
Her pulse was dull, her color was lead
Her skin was clammy, as I wiped perspiration off her head
You could find adoration seeping through her pores
For a mother’s love opens many doors
An aura ...

Read the full of A Mother's Love

No One Has Much To Say

No one has much to say
With hundreds dying every day
Next time you see them will be in a plastic bag
Identified with only a blood stained tag
You might say my protest is unpatriotic
But what can be more chaotic
Than having to kneel and pray
Every single day
No one has much to say

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