Who is Victoria James

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Victoria James Poems

  • Love And Loyalty
    Let the sleeping dog lie
    Babe my feelings don’t die
    Your love is intoxicating
    I think I’m hallucinating ...
  • Redemtion In A Cruel World
    The world is an unfair place
    Why was I brought to it
    Was it to be rubbed on my face?
    The joy’s of others? ...
  • Hateful Love
    I hate you
    You said I can lean on you
    Yet here you are
    Leaning on another ...
  • A Lost Soul
    Everyone comes and goes
    Who can stay for me?
    I’m so lost and alone
    But it seems no one cares ...
  • A Woman’s Pain; She Just Wants To Be Free
    Such is a woman’s pain; she just wants to be free.

    They say love is a beautiful thing
    But how can I love? ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Victoria James

Forget 2 Demon 2 Match 1 Live 1 Relief 1 Reality 1 Broken 1 High 1 Visible 1 Invisible 1


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Poem of the day

Carl Sandburg Poem
House
 by Carl Sandburg

TWO Swede families live downstairs and an Irish policeman upstairs, and an old soldier, Uncle Joe.
Two Swede boys go upstairs and see Joe. His wife is dead, his only son is dead, and his two daughters in Missouri and Texas don't want him around.
The boys and Uncle Joe crack walnuts with a hammer on the bottom of a flatiron while the January wind howls and the zero air weaves laces on the window glass.
Joe tells the Swede boys all about Chickamauga and Chattanooga, how the Union soldiers crept in rain somewhere a dark night and ran forward and killed many Rebels, took flags, held a hill, and won a victory told about in the histories in school.
Joe takes a piece of carpenter's chalk, draws lines on the floor and piles stove wood to show where six regiments were slaughtered climbing a slope.
'Here they went' and 'Here they went,' says Joe, and the January wind howls and the zero air weaves laces on the window glass.
The two Swede boys go downstairs with a big blur of guns, men, and hills in their heads. They eat herring and potatoes and tell the family war is a wonder and soldiers are a wonder.
One breaks out with a cry at supper: I wish we had a war now and I could be a soldier.
...

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