Biography of Paul Cutting
I was two years old when things cam in to focus, standing under my mom as she did the dishes, holding on to the door handles on the bottom cabinets in the kitchen, a women with a solid heart of gold, light skin portages and beautiful inside and out, Dad was some were doing something, a Proud man from the west indies, Island of Barbados, Loved and hated everyone at the same time,
Two Brother older then me, one 15 mouth one 12 years older then me, I was that baby, in 1960 in this majestic and magical would of this poor and proud Family in New Haven CT. Its was a beauty fulled life as I recall looking back to that day from this one, I know that the love that was poured out on me by my Mon and Dad still pours out onto the pages in my poetry, the closest neighbors to our house were all orthodontics Jews, there were days when me and my Brother would have to turn on and off Light, stoves TV's you name it, we flipped the switch on and off, on the very Holy days, I often wondered about my Soul but we did it anyway, so life was good, I had no clue to how poor we were till they foreclosed on our house, but my Dad was good friends with the Mafioso, so had them come to the auction and buy the house and sell it back to us, We had friends from all walks of life everyone loved us, I know there were bad parts but they are not what I dwell on, we all know heartache and pain that life sends our way, to this day I give way to the love I felt from Mon & Dad for my life and its good fortune, Mom and Dad are gone but the love from them cascades on in my words and there healing love I hope you can get a glimpse of in my joy, I have lost hundreds of poem, song, and saying over the years, so I do appreciate poem hunter.com, a place were I can store them for years to come.
Paul Cutting Poems
Above The Clouds
the moon is always smiling against It's darkened shroud the stars are always dancing to the abundance they bow the clouds are always laughing so elegant and proud
As I sit by this stream of endless thoughts, passing by as I am taught to listen as they are brought to me then fade away for nougat, these waterfalls of thoughts.
Bee Or Not The Bee
The way it came to me was very strange to explain it traveled to me through me on its way to my brain a quiet thought brought a loud proclaim of an energy many of you would say was insane
Between You And I
between you and I, All my words are plagiarized, but not from an earthly realm they travel through the ether and make my thoughts there Home
Breath That Breathes
What is that sound, breath that breathes on you who is it that breathes on me, that is the breath of Her that breathes aloud on you, what is that warmth I feel that is the warmth of her who breathes on you,
Flood Of Tears
Each word I felt was spirit fulled my eyes with tears Each visual created in my mind followed everywhere through the valley up the hills up to the mountain peek I felt the love the hater the peacemaker and the meek
who has awaken me from my slumber, is it but the sun that shines upon my face, or is it my Friend the bees that doth drink from me may be its the rain that brings me drink this day
As the words congeal in my mind its time for me to find some time to write these words of mine, and climb to heights divine, that brings forth the signs of our times, to bring sight to the blind of mind, not to shine light that would blind, but to bring straight to discourse the force of truth divorced of fear, to tear through doubt of life and death for they are mine to share, and peer over all that is and is to come, what fun it is to dance upon this spinning sphere, light years from anywhere suspended in thin air, in cased in ozone atmosphere.
For me its by the fire, I can sit and be inspired, watching it dance will take me a way, to my own empire,
Feel This (Now It Is Finished)
I hope to make you read this I hope to be a realist I want you to have to deal with exactly how I feel this
Ghost Rhyme I Caught
Hear me now I speak to thee from mountain tops And mighty seas the earth may not spin before your Needs Be met by me.
You touch me so, telling me this, sharing what you feel of the Love shining through... and as Love would have it, DearOne, as you were writing this, I was telling another about my strange ways of often being very late in responding to emails, and in that, that person
Listen to the word's echo from swollen souls, word's stolen from the wisdom of the universal frequency that blows in the ether that disturbs not a leaf, it changes our world's history with new profound belief,
under the radar of what the masses can preserves, distant from no one but still just beyond there reach.
Listen to the word's echo from were no one knows and tell not its wisdom save the thirstiest of souls that crave the knowledge
that open the worm holes that time has stolen from us