I do not know?
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
A reflection of moonlit innocence.
Once, happy days were like sand
slipping through my fingers.
I could not keep hold.
I was only a girl.
In the darkness of night,
the man in the moon
smiled down on me.
Never alone or cold
was I in the light.
Though the world cannot
protect a child from pain,
the moon still smiles
providing respite in the night.
The child within thanks the moon
for his warm smile.
A reflection of stolen innocence,
a face veiled in fear given peace
by the moon's glow,
a security blanket in the twinkle of stars.
I prayed for peace in a place of broken souls
and God showed His face in a shining moon.
I pray for a thousand years of love in moonlight.
I still shed tears for the girl but no longer fear.
The man in the moon still smiles,
a constant in an unpredictable world.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 9, 2012
Fifth place in April Poem contest (PD)
I do not know?
hello! hey! boungiorno! what is the date?/
this world of dimensions created duality/
no letters/ no words/ are enough to express/
someone like you/ in reality/
i filled all your emptines/ MY still quiet bay/
as Jhon opened world in his Yoko/
you searched perfect princes/ looked for "right him"/
now at only one overman looking/
i swear/ i will hold you/ as much as i can/
would become all the axes/ and outer space/
voice is speared by the screaming wind/
falling down/ flakes to your place/
going crazy just seeing your knees/
don't regret anything/ my Benito/
unbelievable/ perfect/ unbearable/
you whisper/ "la comedia e finita"//
Too far by miles
Thence too close to my heart
Lots of stories to share with you
With buckets of tears
and a glass of smiles
With myraid of unfulfilled wishes
and one win over several busts
I pretend if you were here
As it is time
I need your presence
before April ends
and month May begins
For me with ocean of tears.
I need to rest
Am tired of being a living mortal
Too much to squall
and little of being a playing marionette
With you I will find an existence of mine
Please come back to your motherland
As I pretend you to be here
As it is already time
that I need your shadow
To see my own essence of life
before April ends
and month May begins
For me with hell of curses and fears.
I need to breathe
Am exhaling smokes of being a corpse
Too much of flames
and so lean of being of the open sky
With you can fly to the heaven
Your presence here can make my wings spread
As I already pretend you to be here
To feel my own reliance
I need your feathers to build my nest
But when April ends
and month May begins
Without your presence
I will be shedding my eminence.
Note: This poem is dedicated to my friend Angshumala Goswami
Admitting that I don’t
Still care even though it’s not fair
to be without everything
that made me
exactly what it was to feel
what it was to be real
and now I don’t care anymore
Like the hands on a clock change
Arms roll loose and free
Never knowing what to grab
Or to even believe in me
To catch a fall from a distance
Even though it’s right next to me
You still can’t believe
I’d be there for every instance
Rollin like eyes on a face
too bad the smile’s fake
never seeing through to the truth
but the words can’t lie
when it makes the features
turn, to a painful time
Cause the thought remains
Of how it’s never the same How I changed my ways
In these turbulent days
I can’t face now what’s in store
Cause there’s always gonna be that much more
Waiting, and hiding,
Behind every curve
Like the moonlight
Sitting on the edge of your nerves
Shattering hopes and dreams
And revealing what’s not anymore
When the light shines green
its just to deceive
Even though it’s against
Everything you’ve seen
Inside the heart
Filled with stains from yesterday’s rain
Leaving what’s left in the distance
And never feeling what’s real anymore
Try to look past the stage, of the rage
Knowing full well that
In this world we dig our own graves
Take me, I can not fight myself
Stretching, a life’s worth is just too much
Saddening, to run from my old self
Causing, a stigma in my eyes
You hear a chime
Lost in age,
A match to a time
When everything was safe
Take everything with a grain of salt cause
In the end it’s no one’s fault
On a memory fading in the wind
No matter what it’s still a sin
Just roll with the punches kid
It’ll all turn round in the end
A Spring afternoon racing marathon miles -
a crowd thick with families, runners and smiles,
shocked and bloodied by the burst of bomb’s twin blast
decimating the thrill of the finish line to be passed,
forever marking the moment when we collectively cried
as innocents were bloodied, were damaged, and died.
When roar of crowds and victories cheers
turn to blistered rage and painful tears -
when a moment where valiant struggles end
is broken by flesh as it burns and rends -
then the flash of a coward’s malicious act
highlights a city’s strength as fact.
And in the drifting smoke’s noxious gloom -
instead of the terror the heinous act assumes,
the fire that burns in every patriot’s breast
ignites heroism in the strongest and the best,
driving moments of humanity and heart
that refuse to allow us to be torn apart.
A tradition that’s lived more than a hundred years
will outlive a moment of a madman’s fears.
A city that has known two centuries of time,
its citizens stronger than any single act of crime,
will never bow down to the jackboot of fear –
the race will see a lot more runners next year.
I do not know?
The rain came down as so did the tears
unexpecting what would come after the
following years. So much left unsaid and
so much left to do I kissed your cheek
and said "i love you". We hoped for a
better tomorrow as time stole your soul
you gave me a wink an told me to never
lose control keep my eyes alive in your
heart for that would never die,Empty
thoughts consume my heart and mind
as i try to full fill your hopes and
over power mine.I read your words in
secret pages and the hurt you felt for
so long and your beautiful smile to
hide the words kept hiding are now
forever gone.The room became cold that April day as i watched your beautiful
smile turn to gray. Holding your hand
I felt you speak "Take care of your
self an my heart is yours to keep
remember our laughs,an not so much
the tears,but keep all close as I
will capture your fears". Sweet April
rain never knew the way it would fall
nor did it know it would take you
when it called.You left behind A
memory that would last till the end
and a voice that could reach behind
sin,Strong but stern,happy at times
but angry at most,you kept the promise
of always being close.I believed in
prayer to get us threw. Only one made
it an it was'ent you.You fought for so
long but i had to say goodbye,I promised
i'd never forget the tears of sadness
we cried.The happy times live on in me
and i will see you again some where above
the sea.Still the April rain continues
to fall until i see you again and you
greet me with my name i hear you call.
I do not know?
My birthday, Ur Christmas, His death
Toe to toe, heals to floor, fallen with missed steps
The 21st day of September
9th child of birth, must be hell for her to remember
Then again, maybe she's happy
Living life rejoiceful, sitting on the same doorstool
Bless the heart of this poor fool
That was my birthday, this is ur Christmas
As if holidays were forgotten
Seems these passing noels only could kiss us
Perhaps that's good enough
Besides, this is coming from a child
Whom never understood himself
Circling thoughts, is he abandoned
Is he still a follower of ur Christ
No longer do I lay immortal on melting ice
Recieve your gifts, for misery will never decieve this myth
That's Ur Christmas, this is his death
First weekend of April, last sunday of February
Love me! I'll wed you, then be buried
I've become fond of you
But I'll never miss this burden I've carried
Granted no sins, no chances to win
In this failing day, I'm so eager to attend
Ur son, my mothers child, have my coffin rest on another isle
My brother I knew little of you
But I miss your smile
This was my birthday, Ur christmas, His death