In solitude I dream tonight
And watch a moth in fevered flight.
It’s drawn toward my quaint porch light
And flies consumed with all its might.
Through open window I can see
Its desperation shared with me;
How freedom in this world is light—
And we as souls are drawn to fight.
Though freedom’s light may cause our death,
It’s worth the risk with every breath.
I understand the moth’s sad plight
When drawn to the glorious light.
Though it knows not of human trust,
It buzzes on because it must!
"The Arabian Nights"
Underneath the oceans veil.
Mystery lies within.
Beyond Orion's belt, I shift my mind to sail.
Within me, every constellations hides secrets of sin.
Allowing me, to time frame the world of yesterday.
I found portals with no way-out.
Covering every bruise that my body had on display.
Drawing along the mist of no doubt!
I tie eternity into loopholes with no ending.
Singing a song that lacks the strength to be strong.
Trying hard to swallow words that have no mending.
Babbling at my tongue, when one's heart is wrong.
I hide in the light, away from the darken mist.
A sprint sensation lurking down-under.
Anthologies written only to exist.
A place that strikes louder than thunder.
Eyes that port and slow everything down.
Mysteries behind, a deadly desert storm.
Slaving under the 3rd crown.
Candlelight's guiding a new wedding form.
Executed in a thousand tales, of romance.
Knocking at my door ending another dream.
A sensual marriage with regrets, and loss of chance.
Dancing streams with no means.
Avalon, closing over an Arabic Night.
A story cradling me in bed.
By morning dawn I will no longer see light.
Waking up to another Arabian Night.
NOTE~ I read the book 5 years ago.
ABOUT~ "THE ARABIAN NIGHTS."
the book is Full of mischief, valor, ribaldry, and romance,
I based my poem On the Queen,
Who's Husband would kill his new wife after one night of marriage...
Most of my lines are metaphorical, about the mysteries and stories told...
enjoy~~ click about this note
cascading crystals fall......... like
rhinestones from the sky
a shower of ,
your endless love
on me before I die.
he murdered me
I am 21 years old.
I lay here with my body cold
I always gave him the best of me.
Begging for his love on my knee.
I never listened to nobody's advice.
Only to my husbands lies.
He told me that he loved me.
Beating me till I could no longer see.
One day he took me by surprise.
Now everyone around me cries.
It's to late to see he was not the right guy.
It's to late to tell all my loved ones goodbye.
Now I'm in a place where he can't touch me.
In a box called a coffin, only I see..
While you stay and rot behind in jail..
God came and took me away from your hell.
Go now, rest your weary heart.
Against the soft moonlit night.
Walk into the valley of peace and tranquility.
Loosen those chains that bind your soul.
Let them fall to the ground, never look back.
Let the veil of time lift you up.
As the last breath of life seeps from your lips.
Float out of this world and into the light.
Through the veil of time, go now, no time to wait.
For now you are free, free to be who you really are.
Imagine you flying against the golden sun.
Fly with the spirits who light the nights.
Go now to the world beyond time.
Worn out with lost dreams are you.
Go now and let them come true.
Set yourself free from these bones.
Feb. 29th 2012 leap year
Thea, grandfather Alferd's dog died, she was so old and sick
Now is Thea on the moon, says Adrian who is six
Michael Jackson died so unexpectedly and abruptly
He is on the moon and plays with Thea, says Adrian who is a big fan
Betzy, grandfather Arild's dog died, she was also old and sick
Now Betzy is also on the moon with Thea and Michael Jackson and play all day
Great Grandmother died so unexpectedly and abruptly
Adrian who is six had difficulty understanding
Adrian who is six cried many tears for Great Grandmother
but comforted himself with the fact that she is sitting on the moon and
makes waffles to Thea, Michael Jackson and Betzy
A-L Andresen :) - A true story -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(The Egyptian Funerary Rite)
For seventy days I’ve been prepared
With oils and unguents ever so rare
And with linen bandages to and fro
Wound and wrapped from head to toe
And on this journey I’m prepared to start
By enduring the “Weighing of the Heart”
With Toth’s oversight we’ll see whether
My heart weighs true against Truth’s feather
Should it fall short the beast will devour
My soul to oblivion in my final hour
Yet should it measure straight and true
The Pylon opened I’ll be ushered through
And then I shall fall unto my knees
And pray that Osirus hears my pleas
That he acknowledge and clear my tears
And accept my soul for a thousand years
And cleanse said soul of all its scars
And make me one with the canopy of stars
And bless my children and my wife
That they may join me in the afterlife
Bodies molded into one, golden by the fire-light
Heat between the lovers touch could warm the coldest night
Golden locks around her shoulders; the softest hands upon her waist
Of all the sweets and wine been tasted- his lips the sweetest taste.
Her cheeks were red like roses, and his eyes were bright as day,
Imprinted on the others heart, there could be no other way
Gentle moans and gasps of love, ensconced in lovers game
Eros, Philia, and Agape, with neither lover tame.
His heart was her heart, his breath was her breath
Making love until time's end, and then his death her death.
Removed by author upon realization that this site gives permission for use of poems to anyone with the option of removing the author's name.
There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope
Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care
About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you
We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace
And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive
As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife
And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids
We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good
Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal
We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice
We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong
Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through
The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care
We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone
And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you
Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest
Inspired by the song "Last Kiss" by Pearl Jam
You had just gotten your first car, a 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air,
We were only seventeen years old and neither had a care,
You came over after school and asked me to go for a drive,
We longed for freedom of the road, we never felt so alive.
Always the gentleman, as you opened the powder blue door,
But, after tonight you would be doing this for me no more,
I remember how the moonlight shined off of the chrome,
When you picked me up and I would never return home.
I cannot ever stop thinking about and replaying our past,
I still remember your soft kiss, and it would be our last,
Because, this tender embrace would never happen again,
There was no way that either of us could've known it then.
The impact was so sudden that I felt almost no pain,
As the car swerved out of control into the other lane,
It all happened so fast, there was no time to scream,
Now my existence is a nightmare, just some bad dream.
My body grew cold fast, but I could still feel the heat,
Of the warm blood dripping down onto the leather seat,
I lay there silently, nearly lifeless, held against your shoulder,
It was then I realized that I would not be growing older.
The radio faded away as I closed my eyes for the last time,
What happened to me was an accident, and not a crime,
I will wait for you on this spot, by the very same tree,
Where most people don't notice, but some of them see.
It's an anniversary, it will be 58 years around midnight,
The misting rain and lingering fog will keep me from sight,
As the headlights go flying by, shining from modern cars,
I'm hoping one of them will be you to take me to the stars.
When I do leave this world, side by side we will stand,
And this bad dream will finally be over as you take my hand,
I am waiting to go to heaven, only you can bring me there,
In your brand new, powder blue 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air.
I’m afraid of dying young
Of leaving things yet undone
I’m afraid I’ll leave this place
Yet not leave a single trace
I’m afraid I haven’t said
All that lives inside my head
I’m afraid I’ll disappear
And no one will hold me dear.
I’m afraid I’ve yet to touch
The hearts of those I love so much
I’m afraid I’ll never see
Who it is I’m meant to be
I’m afraid, for can’t you see?
Not much time is left for me.
I’m afraid, oh, I’m afraid
Soon I’ll lie silent in my grave…
With my stories yet untold
With my dreams yet to unfold
With my songs yet unsung
With my words yet on my tongue
With my passion tucked away
With no more prayers left to pray
Entered into Richard Lamoureux's Beginnings Matter Contest
March 3, 2015
I'm not sure why this is the first poem I chose to post on Poetry Soup. Maybe because the theme of dying is ever present in my mind. I lived with the knowledge that my Mother was dying from an incurable disease and that marked me for life. Writing has also marked me for life. I've always wanted to leave something behind to be remembered by. Most of the poetry I wrote up to this point was for family members and loved ones, things I'd share on special occasions. How I love writing. Poetry is more than a hobby. It is an obsession and a dream. It is therapy. Finding a site where I could actually post my work and get feedback was a dream come true for me. This was my first poem and my first taste of euphoria. Others who love words showed loved for my words. "The rest", as they say, "is history."
You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.
We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.
When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground.
You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.
Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.
Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.
You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.
You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.
You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.
You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.
So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.
You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.
You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.
The sun set with a golden glow the day on which you I met
On that special walk in the beautiful park as the sun set
The sun set a glowing red as I walked with no threat
Amongst the trees of different hues as the sun set
The sun set slowly going down dropping, to it I'm indebt
To enjoying every minute of color as slowly the sun set
The sun set quietly didn't say a word but drew
Others to come in and watch closely as the sun set
The sun sets for you and me my handsome dear
Come close lets get all we can from life before fully the sun sets
Years have passed since I buried you
beneath green grasses drenched with dew;
I placed the blossoms, one by one,
a blanket for my only son,
you, my heart's flower, blooming fair,
a mother's rose, uniquely rare.
The bitter grief bubbles inside,
rolling hot waves, a searing tide,
dark desperate, wrenching prayers,
sharp, shattered facets of despair.
Anguish climbs this long hill with me,
the crest of which I never see.
How can one stand beside the mound
where love's sweet baby flesh lays bound?
Faith defies sensibility
and blossoms in eternity.
March 28, 2015
Bubbles out the cloudy bong,
torpid girl, sings happy song,
Drug addiction, fells the fair,
flays the soul, with flaxen hair
Fiery liquid, bubbles on,
spoon’s dreams, blossom on
Absent friends, no help to find,
all now busy, with daily grind
In the night, when rain swift falls,
a friendly angel, stops and calls
Her darling hand and blossomed hair,
searches father in despair
Alas his searching comes too late,
and angels guided to her fate.
Rests the blossoms on her grave,
mischievous, rain bubbles, blithely wave
And here’s a life that spoke no ill;
needle’s death, so cruelly kill.
Written 30/03/2015 for "Blossoms and Bubbles" contest.
In dead-man's land
red poppies grow,
Fertilised by blood,
sun and winter snow;
And on widows' weeds
streams of sadness flow,
Lost freedoms seeds
beneath ignorance goes
To no-man's land
where,there were but crows;
With Spring's new life
real peace they can know,
In the Morning Star's
FOUND AT LAST
Heading into the light of the infinity mass.
Thrills over a new breath, a shining smile made out of brass
Wondering if my energy will ever dissolve?
A slipknot tied on the world where we revolve.
Sublime in to a new kind of contrast.
A fate ending better than worse, no longer an outcast.
Appearing with TRONS no one solves.
Beyond and under where life really evolves.
Once death takes a toll real love will be found at last.
An afterlife so profound waiting~alas~alas!
A Child’s View of Death
People say now that Grandpa was thin
But he had plump cheeks; cancer had set in
Each Sunday penny candy in my hand he’d place
And with rugged hands he’d embrace my face
To an impetuous toddler, his cigars smelled foul
But I don’t remember him ever sporting a scowl
On the way to mass my hand he’d squeeze
And no one ever mentioned his disease
But I’ll not forget the way mama cried
When she hugged me and said Grandpa had died
Though yellow tulips bloomed outside
I entered that parlor where emotions ran high
Grandpa looked peaceful, like he was asleep
I walked softly toward him, not making a peep
Where was that smile I’d come to expect
Not one movement could I detect
It can cause harm taking preschoolers to funerals
Death viewings can be the most frightening rituals
Fear lingered for months as I dreamt of him
Lying in a coffin, his skin cold and face grim
Children should remember those who have passed
Alive and happy, the way they’d seen them last
A fear of death plagued me for many years
I couldn’t accept that good people disappear
From our lives, to be buried in the ground
In thoughts of this loss, my spirits drowned
It wasn’t till later I realized the eternal life of souls
And that in both forms of life, we each have our roles
Be sure to tell little ones of God’s special home
And how our deceased loved ones sit by His throne
In coming to terms with this revelation
I learned to see death as a new life’s creation
*For Lay's "Darkest Childhood Memory" Challenge
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
Blood surges through the deep gash in his armor
while the brave knight writhes in pain and cries in anguish.
The battle is over now and the knight drops hard to the ground
knowing that his life force is ebbing and his strength is waning.
With the battle finished the knight begins his final fight
with Death in his inevitable glory and result.
The knight’s blood now slows to a quiet trickle like blood tears
while key moments in his life flash before him lightening quick.
The knight finds his comfort in love of family and country;
this is a moment of solace as his body tightens in Death’s grip.
His blood now seeps into the ground itself and his breathing grows shallow,
and twilight moves to darkness in the knight’s final conscious thought.
The knight murmurs: fighting, war, and duty to my king have been my life,
but now I must take leave of this mortal coil.
With that Death takes the Knight’s mortal body and the hand of God carries
his heavenly soul to everlasting eternity.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (September 9, 2014) (Distich or Unrhymed Couplet)
This empty feeling
So many places I have seen..
All I ever knew
Leaving it all behind..
Thank you for the light
The one that gave birth to my soul..
Now my soul is in captivity
Darkness embraces its last bit of freedom..
Leaving all I know
Awaiting my death in a cold and wet prison cell..
My feet,shackled to the slippery floor
Fear of death written on the wall with invisible characters..
The last spark of hope
Licks my thoughts as a sunbeam squeezes itself through the tiny window..
"Oh,Heavenly Father..are you there to collect my tired bones
..or to set my soul free?"
I await the bell to chime
Knowing they will come and take me to the executioner..
September 2nd 2012
* Inspired by a song called "Hallowed Be Thy Name"
I look across the bed… you’re not there… you’re dead.
I look across the bed and see…you’re no longer next to me.
I reach over and try to feel your skin,
and remember all the joy there had been…
but my hands come back empty…trying desperately to hold on,
barely clinging to life now that your gone.
And I let out a cry I’m quite sure heaven hears,
Or will it linger in limbo for all of my years.
How lonely this bed, where imprisoned I lay.
How long can I take this day after day?
They say that in spirit your right next to me.
But that is no comfort for it’s blackness I see.
They say that it’s time to move on with my life,
But they have no clue of my pain and my strife.
You were my best friend, my angel, my love,
You were hand picked for me from above.
You were the one who’s soul I adored
Whatever I did you were there to applaud.
You alone knew me inside and out,
And the love that we shared left no one to doubt.
For you were my angel sent from above,
To care for, to lean on, to cherish and love…..
So I’ll go back to bed where imprisoned I lay,
And hope for a joy that visits someday.
Written for my dearest friend Jan, my thoughts are with you and your family.
Orange, white, black. Wings laced in colour lit by brilliant light
Mine heart cry’s out and I weep before thy divine given sight
Mine soul is lighted by thy beauty that mine eye doth behold
Rainbow under constant movement, oh joyous vision doth unfold
Thy Beauty fills mine heart and soul, such joyous colours fill mine sight
Lifting high, swirling , dancing on air, mine mind filled with light
God’s grace welcomes all those gentle souls with wing’s of rainbow hue
Sweet Jan your father dances in rainbow colours and will always love you
A gun so nice to hold
Firm grip from one so bold
Shiny bullets fingers do enfold
To only the brave guns are sold
Not only to the brave are coffins sold
Silk lined some are, but still rot and mould
Not only bought for the unfortunate ill, we’re told
Not a perk for those growing infirm or old
Lives wiped out gone feelings left cold
Guns to the brave are always sold
Coffins the innocents do enfold
Firm to the grip, handles cold
A gun so nice to hold
A body not, I am told.
The woods were still and without sound,
The night I hid her in the ground.
For Susan’s Silence contest
Another stab, another wound, another scar to bear
I wonder if my little heart will find the will to care
It has been mutilated; its fibers have been shred
By all the hurtful things that to it have been said
Its beating is becoming faint, its rhythm is disturbed
Brought on by the rejection that on it was conferred
The blood is gushing out, a never ending stream
Perhaps it will finally stop while I sit and dream
The murder of my heart, was done without a scene
By the outer evidence, the job was very clean
The murderer got away, he left no fingerprints
No one knows his identity, for he left behind no hints
I buried my little dead heart and paid it proper due
The gravesite is a mystery that I’ll not reveal to you
Don’t bother to stop by and place flowers by the grave
Your pretentious act of kindness, your honor will not save
A murderer you are and a heinous one you'll remain
For though I have no heart, I still feel the phantom pain.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
He smiles in my direction as he walks in the door
And laughs at my heart, now a puddle on the floor,
The people walking by turn, point and stare,
I repeat over and over, “there’s nothing there…”
Rains of passion, waves of homicidal angst,
You can’t look backwards and still walk straight,
A million signs are screaming out at you:
Stop-danger-watch out-you’re running too
Quickly, swiftly your friends all walk away,
I’d like to say something, but it’d be so cliché,
Silently you sit and watch them go,
Hoping inside that they don’t know,
Maybe they won’t know, but everybody knows…
I think of you and I think about stars,
Captured fireflies in marmalade jars,
Beautiful reminders of what may have been,
But the fire goes out, and they lay there dead...
He says, “The poison doesn’t do it for me anymore,
I need a pain to leave me lying gasping on the floor,”
My eyes go cloudy as he looks to yesterday,
I say, “I never meant to hurt you anyways...”
It broke my heart, I almost cried
To see you hurting, so broke inside,
Twist, plunge deeper, lemon and salt it so,
Some suffer in silence, I’ve come to know,
You’d rather be alone, you asked me to go...
The colors flew around the walls,
How I got here I don’t recall,
He handed me the bottle and I didn’t think twice,
"Just get rid of the pain, whatever the price..."
I think we danced, at least we may’ve,
Silly boy, to think I’d misbehave,
He said, “I bet I can change your mind,”
Slow down, stop, (learn to) rewind,
“Hold my hand,” I pleaded, to who?
I don’t think so, that’s not something I’d do,
Stop, not there, leave me alone,
I don’t want to be touched anymore…
A glance at the reflection as I pass a mirror,
I thought I saw a smile, but it disappeared,
Spin around and around, a crystal ball,
Reality’s a mist that surrounds us all…
A breeze that once lay cool in morn,
is face of death as dark was born.
On pebbled beach and under guise,
from sea to shore destroyed broad wise.
Great sullen wind awoke this night
and made old oak tree tremble fright.
Though might in years, he stood and shook
for death wind sought and life it took.
In churches huddled in the mass
we prayed the Lord would let it pass
and so He did and had it done
so weathered storms would see the sun.
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
For life was not meant to end in death
Our breath of life was heaven sent
But this is our morbid destiny
For Eve picked the apple from the tree
And plunged us into a world of sin
Where evil is birthed from within
And now death is part of life’s game
Because we filled our hearts with shame
But….I will NOT lie down and simply die
I will fight with every ounce… I’ll try
To cheat death and give him the slip
Before he plants his kiss on my lip
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will blaze and burn in a brilliant flame
I will leave behind poems to my name
I will speak with eloquence, oh so fine
Before I become oblivious to time
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
I will hold your hand one last time
And smile sweetly, a smile sublime
I will tell you to live and not to mourn
To drink in life and death to scorn
To be all that you were meant to be
For in that you’ll taste eternity
But most of all before I leave
I’ll make you promise not to grieve
But to rage and rage against this death
And live, truly live till your last breath
I beg you, do not go gently into the night
You must rage against the dying of the light
Eileen Manassian Ghali
In Response to the poem by Dylan Thomas, "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night." One of my favorite poems!