. She sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
old and alone and forgotten,
she dreams of the love she once had.
Once again she recalls his caress
on the curve of her hips
and her breast
as he moved his bow
on the strings of her soul,
playing her sound
'til his passion was spent.
They traveled the whole world over,
to every city and town;
the maestro, his bow and violin,
bringing each curtain down.
He died in a cry of sweet refrain,
clutching her strings to his heart;
as he fell to the floor in a final encore,
tearing her world apart.
So she sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
her strings still filled
with the song of her soul,
etched by the maestro
that loved her
so long ago!
Author: Elaine George
In the twilight hours
Out here on this ledge
I am filled
With the essence of Rose
As a gentle breath stirs
The fallen petals
That long and winding road
Here on the brink
Where so many have come
And simply let go
I find myself wondering
Why I am here
Yet! I am afraid to know
So I cling to this ledge
Overcome with fear
Knowing the end is near
For there's no going back
Once you are here
for that moment
I sit here
With the essence of Rose
On that road of life
Paved with both
Joy and misery
Until the last petal falls
Then I finally let go
Here at the end of the road
I, the last tear
From the faded blue eye
Old wild Rose
Written: July 15, 2015
Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
She comes along
Dressed in her golden flowing
Her skin adorned in pure white
She carries grace down to her
Her presence echoes rest in
She comes to me
Gently she whispers
My innerness shivers
Softly she kissed me
Her pure essence lingers
She brings to me endless
I find the nerve to take her
Our path exudes serenity
Divine to all eternity
She's beautiful in every way
Don't think of this as my last
And when I'm gone, don't shed
Though flesh my rot beneath
This angel held my soul at
In the same garden, side by side, two flowers began to bloom,
One, small and fragile, knew her life would be over soon.
The other, a boisterous rose, felt far superior to her friend
For she knew that she would live to see the stars and moon
Straight through to summer's end.
The little flower did not have the heart to tell her
That longevity can bring pain,
For who would be there to protect her from the elements,
The blistering sun and numbing rain.
Or perhaps an overzealous lad would clasp her in his grip
And pluck her petals one by one just for the fun of it.
And as the rose rambled on and on about all the delights she'd see
The little flower closed her eyes to dream contentedly.
I was as high as the eyes could see
A giant dark cloud of pure misery
I seemed to roll as one with the wind
A giant black wall that had no end
I stripped the land and left it bare
Of the lives I destroyed, I didn’t care
Those who stayed I covered in dust
As their children died I broke their trust
From my hell many families did flee
Left to wander homeless in misery
I changed the word these words are true
Black Sunday brought darkness on you
I didn't see any direct link but just goggle
pictures of the dust bowl and you will see
what i have written for Brian's Contest.
The Dust Bowl - Alexandre Hogue - 1937
The day will come, my dear…
When you will finally realize
There will be no further denying me
No escaping from what destiny
Has planned for thee
I have tolerated your indifference for
Far too long
Remained in the shadow of your life
While you gallivanted here and there
And everywhere with nary a thought of me
I have waited through the years
Through all your laughter
Through your tears…
When life had let you down
That autumn when you laid
yourself upon the ground
So close to me
And for a moment
I thought that you were mine
You turned away from me
Your mind and soul on fire
By the beauty of
That last leaf
Falling from the tree
A crimson flame
That threw itself upon the wind
To fly away…free at last
I watched you rise
And walk away
Lost to that
Moment in time
That quickly erased the thought of me
From your mind
But Alas, my dear
I have all the time in the world
I wait for you
Knowing one day
You will come to me
For I am your destiny
D E A T H ….
Author Elaine Cecelia George
Written: March 21st, 2015
"The Wooden Cradle"
a white wooden empty cradle, I wait in the nursery room
for the smell of baby fragrance to illuminate sleeping bloom
years have escalated, still sounds of silence hurt my ears
for all I hear are tender sobs from a Mother's broken tears.
I felt a distant heartbeat once, but it has ceased to linger
my warmth caressed a dying soul who touched my slats with finger
his breath was labored; his life short, but I held his heart close
now haunting memories exist as I cuddle his sweet ghost.
my frame sits in a sunny place, outside, I see a tree
swaying in the balmy breeze where a swing should be
instead, I cry, so silently, recall a tiny form
I embraced in a moment in time and kept him safe and warm.
if these walls within this room could whisper words of sorrow
sheer pain would cause tremendous tears to fashion sad tomorrows
I sympathize with woeful walls whose treasure no longer looms
but no-one understands my loss inside the nursery room.
*For Frank H.'s PERSONIFICATION Contest.
And so it was that Autumn would die
with a gust of wind she said goodbye
Of love mortal she sits subdued
sipping remnants of death imbued
With curtains drawn she lay in rest
in silent prose she relived each breath
of life abandoned of weary roads
where Winter's freeze would glisten alone
And so it was that Autumn had gone
in the lonely grips of winter
without a song
The night approaches me again and you're not here still with me
And here under my breath I call your name and I watch your loving face
And there among the dark shadows you'll come back again the same
I hear your haunting tune and I know that you'll be waitin' this time for me.
Release me from all this pain I'm sufferin "Come to me"and just take my hand
Hold me in your arms so tight and please never ever let me again go
Together we'll dream of that other time and fly away to that magical time band
There is no other place like this in heaven or earth where our love can only but glow.
Join me here tonight,hear my voice into the night and just be mine for all time
Come to me right now and give me all your love before the night is carried away
Let me kiss your lips,caress and love you all night til we both see a brand-new day
Disperse all the dark shadows in which I exist,come to me and be mine for all times.
Dorian Petersen Potter
July 18, 2010
This poem amongt many others that I'd written in my life,had been inspired by
my very favorite and most beloved vampire character of all time,
"Barnabas Collins" from the most popular daytime soap opera series ever
produced on T.V. in my opinion, "Dark Shadows." This whole DVD collection is most
And Jonathan Frid is so awesome!
Distinct in its' precinct
It lies low
And remains aloft
Full of power
It moves about
To and fro it goes
Until it finds its prey
Rich or Poor
Cowardly or Bold
Master or Servant
Weak or Mighty
In its physical form
It was defeated
In its abstract
It was unseen
Around its prey
Until the time is come
The die is cast
And the command is
The soul is taken
As the line is cut
Life to the body
A tear to many
A joy to others
A curse to some
A blessing in disguise
It is to you
What you choose it to
i have seen my death
wrapped around a maypole
waving four corners in the wind
peek-a-boo with my soul
i have seen my death
as i march onto the battlefield
aimed to kill
that which threatens my very existence
my right to stand
on the balcony of life
feast my gaze on the rising sun
interlaced with the aroma of morning dew
sit at the edge of a quiet stream
watch the sun slip slowly
behind the mountain peaks
the air dancing
with the fragrance of lilac
i have seen my death
viewed through the stethoscope
of the minds of learned men
that boast their knowledge
as i move away from sterile hands
with sterile anger
pushing away sterile needles
that have not the cure
only promises of next time
i want answers to this rage
that no man understands
i have seen my death
through the eyes of my loved ones
as they kiss away
i cannot enter
into their quiet soft place
is filled with shadows
as i watch them close the coffin
on their humanness
but not their souls
i have seen my death
i'm not ready to die
The swan in the cemetery looked so out of place
in such a depressing location to see such a symbol of grace
a mystical message engraved on a level of hidden depth
a breath of fresh life, hidden amongst the death.
as i watched the swan pace between the gravestones with all the confusion it
in a place of such solitude, i chuckle at the irony the swan represents
but all of a sudden the swan stops in its tracks.
looks up at the sky down at the ground and then over its shoulder as to look over
with an insinuation in its actions that portrays an essence of surprise
as it stops looking around and focuses on my eyes
which some how against my will has me rested on my knees
as the swan opens its beak but instead of a sqwauk a human voice pleas
a plea of forgiveness for all that its done
a plea to say goodbye to his wife and his son
but then the swan descends into the ground through a grave with not as much as
as i read the inscription on the stone i cry as i find it reads here lies hope
The Dawn crept over the
with the stealth of a vampire.
Bleeding into blue-black veined forest
through a lilac haze.
I sit at the end of your final stroll
Setting you free is my only goal
At the end of your life so tired and beat
I quietly offer, “Please take a seat”
I suddenly notice as you’re strapped in
Your victim’s father cracks a wide grin
For this day he has waited so many years
Is that your mother shedding all of those tears?
I’m sorry; you thought I would be all polite
Boy I am the darkness you fear in the night
Thomas Edison got the fame for inventing me
Though it was Harold P. Brown; a loyal employee
The first to meet me met a fiery fate
In 1890 I released William Kemmler’s hate
In 1899 Martha Place came to dance with me
First woman fried in the entire world’s history
I truly enjoy when I get to serve company
Especially delicious was my friend Ted Bundy
To one simple fact there is truly no doubt
I’m the gateway to Hell, come on check it out
I was truly invented to serve just one goal
I’m simply here to separate the body and soul
They all think their evil until them and I meet
I’m Sizzling Sally please come taste my heat
Old Smokey, Old Sparky hell it’s all the same
Smoke them or fry-em boys this is my game
Written for Deborah's contest
To whom it may rhyme honestly.
Hip hop is confused.
Lyrics are nonsensical and abused.
Speaking against it means you'll be boozed.
Everyone is sold out and seduced.
Emcees battle for recognition in sweats of dead legends.
Genre planted by dead lyrical prophets.
Currently they’re searching for rap god but this doesn’t sound ancient.
This search does not deserve a capital G
Let’s jump straight to old school index.
Biggy and Tupac for instance permanently were consumed.
Like gibberish everyone turned confused.
Now we have au pairs of hip hop.
Fears for Tears
Wait till that first president is vacuumed.
Everyone will defiantly be confused.
A holiday will be planted and assumed.
Rest assured it will be approved.
Holidays amplify drainage in pockets.
Like new hip hop, dead rhymes get approved.
But who am I sneaking in reality's perfume.
My hip hop worries are harmless sounds like gurgles.
Gun shots in my face would be unchained bullet harmonious patterns
But that menace to me is doddle.
Easy cake two minutes noodles.
As I pay my last respect and spit worries.
May Old School Hip Hop resurrect in peace.
Rise in bilingual lyrical pieces.
As beats, we will strike against these complex increases reviving our old nieces
In hope some dope emcee will neck rope this confused hip hop
Like News everyone is an expert of hip hop views
The sun will take a 12 hour flight before our darkness is saved from this loss.
We are plunging into darkness in the name of new century.
Lost in the jungle.
Yours creatively Boom Bab Beats
The heart of the sea is a mother's heart
She is the great ancestral mother of all life on the planet
Deep within the mysterious waters of her womb
she conceived and gave birth to the first life form
which evolved into more complex organisms
that live on the land and in the air
She is an essential part of the planet's ecosystem
feeding the clouds which bring rain and snow
that sustain life on the earth
Through tiny ocean plants and photosynthesis
she removes carbon dioxide from the air
and converts it to more than one half of the oxygen
in the earth's atmosphere
She is the great food provider to the planet
having her own internal food chain
with tiny phytoplankton at the lower end
and enormous sharks and whales at the upper end
She feeds creatures from the land and air
that venture to fish in her waters
She is a thing of beauty even in her enraged fury
with massive waves towering over a hundred feet
and the seething white foam of her waters
This has been her action
even before the advent of man on the planet
Man must respect her behaviour
or suffer death and destruction if he does not
She is a thing of beauty in her calm stillness under the setting sun
which lights up the evening sky in its glorious splendour
and paints a glistening beam of light on the water's surface
in line with the sun and surrounds it
with brilliant colours of the rainbow
With the Will
And drifts away
From: " The Cross "
Xlibris Pub Book #106627
"DEATH OF DEPRESSION"
Living each day all alone Even though I'm surrounded by millions of people, I still feel in isolation.
I am surrounded by the nothing, i am the Nothing!
Deep inside, I feel rotten to the core,
Skin shedding,like the devil is devouring me!
I feel that life's oils are draining from me,
Seeping through my vein's,
No light within me, darkness has took it's toll,
How do I break it's grasp.
Energy is draining, yet a spark ignites inside me,
My soul will win out,
I will fight with each and every breath I take.
The darkness will become light once again.
-AMELIE STARR (EMMA GIBSON-CHALMERS)
his love captured me
as if a rope was thrown
knotted and tied
close to my heart
alas with no scissors
or knife at hand
i could not cut free
the bonds were too tight
his love was suffocating
my heart simply stopped...
Nothing can substitute death
for it is the final destination
and ere you last breath
crystal clear all your abberation.
Rest forever or birth to numb dizziness
as you part, you leave all harms and assaults
people most unatheist, called quick as bless
is perfused, to save him from life's thunderbolts
Long life of people swing as tombs
where none pay heed to temple and churches
who will pay heed to these scarce living glooms
amidst clowns in whose core only money perches.
The flirt and dirt only thing hatching in heart
and society dwindle with values and morals
each thing lost and perfect human you never wert
lacking natural mankind but adorned with quarrels.
A MOMENT IN LIFE
Tears filled my eyes, as my heart riveted with pain
As I watch your body lay there lifeless
Jokingly you say its okay I’ll be fine
The question I often asked GOD, why
Our Childhood memories, the moments spent, times we shared
In a split second our journey together would suddenly come to a halt
Your presence diminish you are now gone from this world
Never was there a dull moment, never a sad day
You brought me laughter, joy smiles filled with cheer
Words of wisdom, willingness of heart, words of courage, words of faith
A priceless treasure that can never be replaced
You saw in me what I could never understood or envisioned
A world filled of opportunity, a world ready to be explored
I vividly remember you say this journey we called life ,
Has unexpected moments, uneventful happenings
Still the storms, ride the waves, through every road of challenges
Greater I am, Wiser I Become
(This poem I wrote because I lost my sister March this year at the age of 36)
Beautiful ones are dying/
Directors on silent the film is sponsored by reality/
Voiceovers turn into scandals not propensity /
Actors with no clue they get glued in life's show their future is screwed/
Born raged their actions are so real/
Kill or be killed quest between scenes/
Poverty is more than the defining moment screams/
Hunger bleeding dreams with no makeup pencils/
A wakeup call before the final cut/
A turning point of a lifetime plot/
It’s a warm-up elevating hopes before credits/
Death too expensive/
No rehearsals nor sequels/
Dark clouded cameras carry life insurances/
Raining scenes on corruption’s free way and streets/
The cancer eating stunning extras/
Avalon cemetery the only Stadium Lavatory flushing off written off characters/
Beautiful ones are dying/
i hear your voice in solitude
when all outward forces seize
and inward forces burst out in multitude
and all my hardships ease.
i want to hold your hand forever,
and would be with you
but waiting for you here, but none deter
hopeful but eyes dew.
purple riot in my heart
which stay here for long
after disturbing it then depart
and then merrily sing plaintive song.
paying here for all my merriment
which i have deduced in past
now only it provide consolement
when i cry at last.
life i love you very much
and always want to embrace you
but you leave no occasion as such
so that i can amaze you.
Contemplate and meditate
That the truth
- Shall -
See the light of reality
With-in the realm of possibility:
On the days the wind does blow
life gets caught up in how things should go
and winds gather up the harvest from the field to tow
to blow up harvest in good flight it may freely flow
but what of those who never know
and never feel the warm winds of autumn blow
and the scythes will never come home
and all hope of good harvest is then
Dressed in my shaggy brown coat
I stand nearly six feet
at my shoulders
and weigh almost a ton
My brethren and I
once roamed the prairies
in herds of millions
grazing on its grass
which fed and nourished us
for tens of thousands of years
Running at speeds of
over thirty five miles per hour
across the prairies
in herds that stretched
as far as the eye could see
our hooves created
a thunderous sound
that shook the earth
causing it to tremble
like an earthquake
When packs of wolves attacked us
we surrounded our calves
kept our heads down
flashed our horns
and charged them
to fight them off
At times though
we were not able
to save our young
our old and ill brethren
when they were separated
from the protection
of the herd
The redskins were
the only human beings
we knew at that time
Though they hunted us
with bows and arrows
to feed themselves
and to satisfy their desire
for shelter and other needs
they did not waste
any part of our bodies
They respected us
and we respected them
We lived in harmony
for thousands of years
It was the advent
of the whiteskins
that initiated our decimation
They brought in large
that could keep up with
and even outrun us
The redskins realized this
tamed those creatures
sat on their backs
and hunted us
using their bows and arrows
like they did before
They killed more of us
but again they took only
as much as they needed
and did not waste
any part of our bodies
so we continued to
co-exist in harmony
It was that long mysterious stick
that the whiteskins brought in
that triggered our demise
From a great distance
it made a loud noise
and something hit us
that we could not see
but it inflicted severe
pain and agony
Some of us fell to the ground
and died quickly
while others struggled
but were injured so badly
that they died soon after
We were helpless against
this long mysterious stick
We were slaughtered
in our millions
They left our dead bodies
to rot and decay
where we fell
Sometimes they took away our coats
Other times they cut out
our tongues only
and left the rest
of our dead bodies
to putrefy and decay
on the prairie grasslands
that we had trod on proudly
for thousands of years
This is my epitaph
for I just saw the glint
of the sunlight
on the long mysterious stick
heard its thunder
and felt something
go deep into my insides
as I fall to the ground
I am on way to meet
my proud ancestors
who once roamed
these lands in freedom as
Lords Of The Prairies
"Petal nor thorn could save this rose."
From "Flowers...Beautiful Flowers"
This line personifies the loss of life and the harvest of flowers (roses) for a funeral. Just as loved ones are lost each day in the prime of life (any time really), the rose is taken in the height of beauty and placed atop the grave. This is in spite of the thorns which protect it. We possess the attributes of the rose as well. Yet, still we pass, regardless of benevolence or wickedness.
I awake each morning to start a new day
But the pain of loosing you never goes away.
I go about the things I have to do
And as the hours pass I think again of you.
I want to call you and just hear your voice
Then I remember that I have no choice
For you are not there and now my heart cries
Just to see you again to tell you goodbye
To say Mama I love you and I always will
And hope that much of you, in me you've instilled.
The day that you left I just didn't know
That you were going where I couldn't go.
And now all my memories of you are so dear
But gosh, how I miss you and wish you were here.
Who now can hear me when I need to cry?
It so hard to tell you "Mama goodbye."
Someday I know all will be well
And I'll see you again with stories to tell
Of how you were missed and how we have grown
And how good it is to finally be home.
Until then my memories of you I'll keep near
And I'll pass them on to those who are dear.
I miss you Mama,
IN THE SPRING OF '1999' I WAS LIVING WITH MY DAUGHTER and HER FAMILY IN BLANCHESTER,OHIO. THE HOUSE WE LIVED IN WAS A NICE PLACE, BUT WE DIDN'T HAVE A SCREEN DOOR and SO WE WOULD SIT WITH THE DOOR OPEN MOSTLY DURING THE AFTERNOON. I WILL NEVER FORGET THE MORNING OF MARCH 16th THAT YEAR! MY DAUGHTER WAS AWAKENED BY THE SOUND OF A CAR STOPPING REAL FAST IN THE GRAVEL OUT FRONT, and AT THE SAME TIME WE BOTH HEARD MY SISTER SCREAM: 'ALICE HURRY UP MOM IS DYING'. MY DAUGHTER WAS HANDING MY PURSE and SHOES TO ME AS I WAS WALKING OUT THE DOOR. WE ALL GATHERED IN MOM'S ROOM and WE TALKED, CRIED, PRAYED and WE WAS THERE FOR EACH OTHER; and AT ONE POINT I ASKED HER: MOM, WOULD YOU LIKE US TO SING LIKE WE USED TO IN SUNDAY SCHOOL WHEN US CHILDREN WERE LITTLE? MOM, COULDN'T SPEAK BUT I THOUGHT I SAW A FAINT SMILE ON HER FACE and FOR ME THAT WAS ANSWER ENOUGH. SO, SOME OF US SANG SONGS LIKE: 'PETER,JAMES and JOHN IN A SAILBOAT - or - THERE'S A FOUNTAIN FLOWING DEEP and WIDE - or - HIS BANNER OVER ME IS LOVE' - WHILE THE OTHERS TALKED AMONGST THEMSELVES and PRAYED. MY BROTHER and HIS FAMILY MADE IT IN FROM GEORGIA LATER THAT EVENING and WE ALL VISITED IN MOM'S ROOM and THE ROOM NEXT TO HER'S THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT. THE FOLLOWING DAY ON WEDNESDAY THE 17th DAY OF MARCH IN '1999' AT AROUND 12:15p.m. - GOD SENT SOME OF HIS BEST ANGELS TO CARRY OUR PRECIOUS 'MOTHER' HOME TO HEAVEN. IT'S HARD AT ANY TIME TO LOSE A PARENT, BUT IT WAS REALLY ROUGH LOSING 'MOM', BECAUSE LESS THAN TWO YEARS EARLIER ON NOVEMBER 15,1997 - WE HAD LOST OUR PRECIOUS 'DAD, WHOM I KNOW WITHOUT A DOUBT WAS WAITING AT THE GATES OF HEAVEN FOR OUR 'MOTHER'. MOM, ALWAYS SAID THAT SHE WANTED TO BE BURIED ON THE FIRST DAY OF 'SPRING'; and YES, THE DAY WE BURIED 'MOM' JUST HAPPENED TO BE ON THE FIRST DAY OF 'SPRING'. FOLKS, YOU SEE GOD HAD LISTENED TO MOM'S PRAYER and GRANTED HER THAT WISH! THIS SHORT STORY SOME FOLKS WILL FIND HARD TO BELIEVE, BUT IT'S TRUE and REALLY HAPPENED. FOR THIRTEEN DAYS AFTER WE BURIED 'MOM', A ROBIN WOULD COME and SIT ON THE DOOR STEPS AT ABOUT THE SAME TIME. ON THE FOURTEENTH DAY I SAID: "MOM, IF GOD HAS SENT YOU IN THIS FORM TO CHECK ON ME - I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I WILL BE FINE. AFTER, I WAS DONE TALKING and CRYING THAT 'ROBIN' FLEW AWAY and DIDN'T EVER COME BACK! FOLKS, I MADE A PROMISE TO 'MOM', THAT I WOULD MEET HER and DAD IN HEAVEN WHEN MY LIFE IS OVER ON THIS EARTH and I INTEND TO KEEP THAT PROMISE!
I have never thought of death.
Well, that's not true. Everyone
does at a time. A peopled perishing
if you will. We constitute it
with sickles or in a carriage
or call him soft names. Man
versus death; man conquers
this nothing by attaching arms,
ears, heart so it may feel its indifference
resonating like fingernails on fiberglass.
The great human figure, now
cyclical of its mortal fragility.
Were our endeavors false,
these simulacra, these apparitions
beset gaily on their creator?
Like a cement plant, are we
indebted to the dust made
by our hands, and fills our lungs?
All I know is
it's an inconceivable sadness to think
I have never thought of death.