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Age Nostalgia Poems | Age Poems About Nostalgia

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Details | Free verse | |

Gary's Yard Sale, the story

Gary's Yard Sale, the story
                                                  Authored by Chuck Keys

Among the rustbelt cities of yesterday,
Along the edges of the Detroit River,
A short distance to the side,
Resides a slice of Victorian times,
Excesses exceeded needed, 
Where age confronts time,
The day before meets the day of,
And greets tomorrow.

Those in the hood
And outside,
Meet and greet among 
The scraps of forgotten memories.
Lawns filled with bygones of size,
Tables filled with important somethings,
Maybe everythings,
For important that evolved into history.

Where memories become linked,
Each to a stored thought,
Treasured, pleasured or disdained,
To a person,
Of late or present,
To a future of who knows what.

During the day,
The history-of and the future-of talk,
To each,
Of where they were,
And where they hope to be,
The dust is blown off with the wind,
From the east, west, north and south.

The yard sale, the graveyard of the past,
The arena of the present,
Life and death of the sale,
Dance together, coupled,
Where Mine, becomes Yours' while
Gary the Conductor, orchestrates to perfection,
The operatic enjoyment of history,
Buyer meets seller, exchanges
Are made.  As is today.
Bravo! Bravo!

*This poem is dedicated to Gary and Ann Harris of Northville MI USA – May they and 
their Yard Sales age forever!

© Charles H Keys, 2010.  All Rights Reserved.  V1.4.09252010


Details | Free verse | |

Sometimes

Sometimes I am happy, sometimes I am sad.
Sometime I sing, sometimes I stammer

Sometimes I dance on the music of my soul, Sometimes I dance on the fingers of 
one single person
Sometimes I expect so much from others; sometime I myself can’t meet my own 
expectations.

Sometime I make fun of others and feel bad later, sometimes life makes fun of me 
and I smile
Sometime I win and sometimes I lose, sometimes I don’t even understand whether I 
won or lost.
 
Sometimes I laugh as if whole world is with me,
Sometimes I cry as if I am alone wandering in a strange land

Sometimes I give up so easily
Sometimes I work so hard that no one can stop me to achieve what I want

Sometimes I am dynamic person, who wants to change the world,
And sometimes I am a kid who expects anyone to embrace him tightly.

Sometimes I feel happy about the achievement of my enemy
Sometime I feel dejected with my own success.

Sometimes I help others and show them the right path
Sometimes I feel totally helpless and don’t know where to go

Sometimes I ask god to please give my past back
Sometimes I pray to show me the way forward


Life is composed of SOMETIMES and I just flow with that.
U admit or not but you are also sailing on the same boat.
So join me and enjoy it EVERYTIME as SOMETIMES life is very short!


Details | Free verse | |

Afloat On a Lavender Sea

Decades yawn and stretch across the years, traveling up the stairs, around the chairs coiling around the door of one small room that was groomed by the sun of a Saturday afternoon... Floating on a sea of a hardwood floor I'm prone, on my back, on a lavender rug Examining the nail of my left hand thumb hearing you express, that you aced your class I had confessed, to missing you more each day linked only to you, by that ivory phone and a ring on my finger, that bound our love and blinded our eyes to the doubt of youth... Invitations in the mail, and a church on hold There was a cake on order, and a cold hard world You were glued to my ear, I was entrapped by a cord that tugged on the wall, with every word Light from the yard is scored by the blinds but, there on the floor, prone on my back, I'm bound by the cord that tethered our lives Linked to your voice, where love was wound Hovering over the sea of cold hardwood, I had a pillow of shag of a lavender rug The days stretching short and our vows yet untold A cord getting stronger, that time would unfold
____________________________________________


Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Sandalwood

                    
                            ~ Sandalwood ~ 

                      Fall days leaves of gold orange and grey
                     this scent fills my room with passion my mind with clarity
                     The senses are calmed and my inner soul strengthens 

                      As if I can visualize inner peace
                        watching the many trees fall 
                         The scent of Sandalwood reminds 
                     
                             ~ of what once stood  ~
                              allowing me to accept all

                          bringing solace to my soul 
                             filling the air of past and present 
                      one of natures gifts holds a musky oil passionate 
                        
                      enlightens all senses reminding me 
                     of Native American ways fires blazing 
                      children dance and listen to old ways
                        
                     Thunder and rain in the misty Canyons 
                        dessert Sage and Sandalwood 
                       close my eyes yet seeing the truth 


Details | Rhyme | |

Oh The Tales That He Could Tell

Along a pier, on a bench,
An old man sits all day.
Passers by not lending time,
To what he has to say.
They'll never know the loves he had,
Or ocean blues he sailed.
If they had just a moment,
Oh the tales that he could tell.

A gent with fishing rod in tow,
The "big one" but a dream.
The old man pleads with aching hands,
Would you come sit with me?
A flashing glance, a fleeting wave,
No time for you old man.
Then you'll not know my secrets,
How sure giant ones to land.
Not sailfish fought for hours on end,
Bursting through the sky.
Nor great whites conquered, whales harpooned,
Nor where the mermaids hide.

A lass sashaying, book in hand,
Of romance she does read.
His crooked finger motions her,
Would you come listen please?
With rolling eyes, a turned up nose,
His answer once again.
Then you'll miss the most daring ventures,
Ever known to man.
Expanding near a century,
Ore exotic lands and seas.
My passions, loves and tragedies,
Would bring Shakespeare to his knees.

So when you see an old man,
Sitting there alone.
Most all desires that you have dreamed,
He has lived and known.
He can fill you with adventures,
A knew world to you unveil.
If you'll just take a moment,
Oh the tales that he could tell.


Details | Narrative | |

Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


Details | Salaam | |

Yeh khaalipan


Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega


Details | Senryu | |

Playground

Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!

Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Frowns exchange 


Details | Ode | |

Because They Play the Game

Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing 
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
  
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
   the mighty Big Red.

And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were 
   known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
   add to Big Red’s might.

I stand in awe of Sooner Magic.  No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
   glorified the name.

Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
                                              
                                 They play the game.


Details | Rhyme | |

Queen Of The Rails

The engine: Long and black
And sleek as she could be
She shook the earth in her approach
As her heraldry.

An atmosphere of steam and smoke
Expanding in her wake
The Queen-of-the-Rails speeds on
An arrival soon to make.

Massive is her presence
Enormity her design
Power is her excess
This Queen is so refined

Once she ruled with majesty
When o’er the rails she flew
But … now, this one last time,
The railway bids: “Adieu”.

Slowly when she comes to stop
We see she’s thoroughbred
When water, steel and hard, black coal
Within her there are wed.

Her regal-ness resplendent
In fittings’ shining bright
Commanding our respect
O’er the rails of her last flight.

Now sitting at the siding
She’s puffing rhythmic breath
The museum’s destination
Of her life commits its’ theft.

Photographs will mimic
Her image of today
But missing from those photos:
Glories of Yesterday

When o’er the steel she thundered
Demanding from all who saw
Respect for Her grand power
Which held them all in awe.

But Glory, she found, was fleeting
When “progress” came to call
Her future then was set in stone
In the writing on the wall.

Now we hear the brake release …
Her throttle then is moved …
She inches down the shiny track
Where the land with steel is grooved

Then as she gains her speed
And whistles out her “yell”
An announcement for all to hear:
“I know I’ve served you well!”

She’s journeyed through the ages
And a boy – an old man now -
Watches as she fades away -
He waves, then shouts out: “Ciao!”

But in his mind is yesteryear
With his dog there by his side
Watching near the railroad tracks
Where the Queen-of-the-Rails did ride.

And long from now whenever
He says: “Remember when …”
In those times of reverie,
She’ll come alive … again.


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Free verse | |

Blossoming

 

The Blossoming

Within shivers
Hot like
Ice
Hides he
Phantom yet
Passes her
Daily
Hides 
She
So shyly
Dark tresses
Unsure
Within
This
Diamond like
Shines
She
Tentative
Within
New
Ability
Halls grow dark
And 
Only
He 
Haunts her
This want
Disco ball
Of tentatively
She
Walks within new 
Wants
Cursed within
The 
Exquisite 
Like shards pang
Desperately
A lullaby 
I can
No longer
Bring
Hold her so
Close
Yet so far
Away
This new life
For 
In Solo
So
Exquisite
She sings

---------
 


Details | Concrete | |

DISTURBED CREATURE- Am I

A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.

DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ??       BY Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare

Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!

Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!

Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!

Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!! 

with Suyog Pagare


Details | Concrete | |

HABIT

I'm often repeated and hardly defeated

Could be good, bad or ugly

it all depends on what you make of me

I run a full course when fully encrypted

I am Habit

 

I can make you soar sky high

As well as fuel your eyes to cry

Can lead you to great profit

or lay you down underneath

Its still me Habit

 

A friend to both the achiever and mediocre

The very small stream that makes a river

What's your flavour? I make and mar

Can keep you redundant or take you far

 

Call me Habit

Be firm with me and you'll achieve a great feat

Be easy with me and you'll be wasted six feet


Details | Rhyme | |

The You in Me

The you in me that I know

goes with me where I go --

the you that isn't you at all

comes to me when I recall

the days we spent as we grew.

I never guessed, I never knew,

all that I'd have left of you

would be my thoughts of those two:

of the you in me, the me in you.


Details | Imagism | |

Parallel love

From afar I watch the sun 
That's setting in your eyes..
Shades of green melt into tangerine..
But I'm just a different hue 
From violet to pink and blue
We may never be intertwined..
For we are parallel dimensions 
Of the mind
But if I may say 
The vibrance in your eyes 
Is beautifully enchanting..


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?


Details | Rhyme | |

Do You Remember

Was it really as you remember?
Was it as sweet as you recall?
What was the other’s name?
Do you remember them at all?

Do you remember where you were,
The season or the time of day?
Do you remember how it made you feel
And what next you had to say?

Had you practiced on your hand?
Did you do it right or almost miss?
How often do you think of it…

Your very first Hollywood kiss?


Details | Light Poetry | |

Butterfly

I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is 
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not  done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am 
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing 
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the 
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside 
 a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...


Written By: Christina A McCullouch 
04/09/2013


Details | Free verse | |

bittersweet

so this is the way the night tastes... looking back I couldn't tell, in pencil at the beginning worn flights of steps, from before the war smaller, until they were gone but in the mirror, my hands gold rims, bare here and there out of an echo, knowing not long after flecked with red, blue in the depths, and polished... I see clearly all the pieces of the flower it was late when we started plates stacked on shelves next to the questions one at a time once there was a horizon no color except for gray at a perfect distance from each other almost a thousand years later almost in plain sight in the summer fields waiting it would climb up as a shadow we planned to wait and to whatever is still standing the eggshell of light before dark what was there before remained closed on its own along the ridge of the barn roof only she had forgotten her name a dried branch of bittersweet lace on drop-leaf tables I could not remember part memory, part distance leading me to the lake shore invisible under the hood
_______________________________________________________ Inspired By Charlotte's Contest: "Cut-up/Collage Poems" and randomly "snipped" from a book by W.S. Merwin 2/27/14


Details | Free verse | |

When I Look At You

When I look at you,
I pray that I don’t lose touch with you
When I look at you, 
I prey upon happiness and I never knew
That you mentioned me in your dorm
When I look at you,
My mind wraps all around you
When I look at you,
You give me a natural high, 
But it’s only temporary…
When you wake up,
I pray that you had the best of dreams
When you wake up,
I prey upon your energy and 
Soar like an eagle in the sky
He watches over me as years pass me by
Our friendship is too good to be true
We’re so lucky to have each other…
Weep no more, for your name is carved in my heart
There shall be no more death…
Bitter, worthless clouds spill out remorse – 
Depart and be gone!
I’m waiting to say “greetings” to you
I don’t have the strength to fight the battle
Endless thoughts spiral in my head
Making me feel awfully dead…
Many things are left a mystery for a purpose
When I look at you,
I pray that I don’t forget your name
When I look at you, 
I prey upon your joy and I never knew
That you mentioned me in an optimistic way
When I look at you,
My mind is overflowing with delight
When I look at you,
You give me a natural high, 
But it’s only temporary…
When you wake up,
I pray that you have the best breakfast
When you wake up,
I try to prey upon your glory, 
But you swim away like a swan in a sparkling lake
I wanna give you good advice…
I don’t wanna roll the dice…
I don’t wanna be a living sacrifice
I wanna throw away all of your pain 
I’m trying my best to reach the finish line
It’s hard to forgive the words you utter
It’s hard to forget and forgive yourself 
For the wrongs you’ve committed
My mouth kept running like the sink water
And my mind went numb and you seemed to be bothered
Pick up the shards of glass and show me some direction
I don’t know where to go from here…
But, I must keep a positive mindset
I’m not attempting to get you upset
When I look at you, 
I feel that I’m invisible 
You see right through me
And I reflect anguish and confusion
Have mercy on me and don’t be frightened
Disappear, thoughts of sadness
Reappear, thoughts of gladness
When I look at you,
I see…a joyous, gorgeous face and 
I sense that you’ll have a bright future
Just keep shining...with all of your might
God is near your side...leave behind all worry
Don't you know that you made me taste your glee?


Details | I do not know? | |

The Master Mind of Numbers

Ever since I have stepped into modernization, I have been pinched with values of the ancestors,
I cannot believe that the inside does not reflect the outside anymore,
When one says he or she has changed and become open minded, 
Is it only to make one feel temporarily pleased or is just to enjoy hurting a person,
Why has age become a factor or an excuse to start a new problem?

Every time a heart skips a beat, the warm sensation takes place, a friendly chat takes place,
Numbers begin to swirl around. The intellectual chat, attraction of like minds,
Or even the rebellious differences stand in a corner against numbers.
Time flies and so does one progress with various experiences. 
Does it matter if you are too old or young to be with someone?

Who gets to judge about numbers?
Nothing occurs very young but takes place during adulthood with mature thinking. 
How should one deal when age becomes a problem to a new relationship?
More or less, does anyone have the right to judge if one is not married at a certain age.
With observation, reading various articles, numbers have created a nuisance in the mind of shallow thinkers in many societies.

When all the feelings are right, then why do numbers go wrong?
Doesn’t sensibility, love, responsibility or even security count or is it overshadowed with age.
Still one may try to let go and filter some thoughts, but how does one filter attraction and passion.
Years have passed by and still the jackpot of excuses concerning numbers have polluted various communities. A spark of hope is still there when faith and true love will attain blessings from the higher self and well-wishers always.


Details | Verse | |

Time

Minutes pass like the slow falling grains in an hourglass. 
Days fade away like the clouds of spring showers in early May.
Time goes on though you may not hear the ticks.
With mysterious design
Time; one of nature’s best tricks. 
Some of us move forward,
Others stuck in the past.
Though we must be quick to make a move,
For this moment could be our last.
Seconds waste no time like the beating of my heart.
Hours can seem torturous.
Those who are impatient would rather be torn apart.
Your life may end when expected or suddenly,
But remember time doesn’t stop for you,
Neither will it for me.

03.28.2013


Details | Free verse | |

new aquatic species

       Science in all fascination has discovered a species aquatic 

  Theorizing this new yet old species remained hidden as Merman  

  only to live in secret at the oceans floor the mermaid a tribe indigenous 

  once said to be myth yet all proof and technology film does not lie 

  Tsunamis has given the ocean a true glance of the man with webbed hands

  The species communes with dolphins will be under a microscope to analyze  ?


    " The World is not ready to see what I have "  Jacques Cousteau ~


         to be entered in The Science contest ~


Details | Nonet | |

The Old Age

when I was young I could run a mile
now I watch the track with a smile
these legs are not like before
in fact they feel quite sore
folks say it's a stage
it's the last page 
it is called 
the old
age


Details | Sestina | |

To Find The Girl That I'd Love Best

To find the girl that I’d love best (A Sestina, 19 May 2014).

I thought to set upon a quest;
One that would put me to the test
So I left my cold and empty nest
And proceeded with vigor and zest
To find the girl that I’d love best.
Thus I left my castle in the west.

So proceeding from the west,
I set upon the aforementioned quest
To find the girl that I’d love best.
The trek was long, surely a true test,
That sometimes wore out my youthful zest
And made me regret my empty nest.

I did not turn back to my empty nest,
That was now far distant in the west,
Rather took heart to recover my zest
And with renewed hope continued my quest
Resolving to finally beat the test
To find the girl that I’d love best.

At a fork I chose the road that I thought best
Would lead to my fairest lady’s nest
But I was deceived by this beguiled test
And turned back around towards the west
To retrace my old footsteps of my quest
And returned to the fork with much less zest.

On the other road moving with less zest
I by chance met the girl that I’d love best.
She saw that I was on some kind of quest
And offered me sustenance within her nest
I desired to take her to my home in the west
And realized wooing her would be my final test

So preparing for this final test,
I pursued the charming girl with zest.
She consented to come with me to the west,
Therefore I won the one that I’d love best.
Thus I took her home back to my nest
And finally fulfilled my loving quest .

It never really was for me a test to tolerate the girl that I loved  best.
So I cherished her with love and zest; because she took the emptiness from my  nest.
Thus I never again set foot out from the west for another lengthy silly quest.


Details | Narrative | |

Dedication to Everyone

I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care 
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com 
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown

If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who 
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view


Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."




Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Lyric | |

Summertime Re-Lyric

Summertime…and the livin’ is easy,                                                
Flowers growin’ and the sun’s sittin’ high.                                    
Your Daddy’s rich and your Momma’s so good lookin’;               
So hush, pretty baby…you got no reason to cry. 

One of these days, you’re gonna rise up smilin’.
Take a look around and think you’ve got it all.
You’ve got your Momma’s looks, all your Daddy’s money,
And all the boys in town are at your beck and call.

Summertime…and the livin’ is so easy,
Laughin’, singin’, havin’ so much fun.
No time to stop and think about your future
And what life will bring when your Summer’s  done.

‘Cause Summertime, it don’t last forever.
Breezes cool and the leaves begin to fall;
And in your quiet moments, you sit and wonder
How you've come so far, but have no love at all.

Yes, Summertime…and the livin’ was so easy; 
Ain’t it sad how fast the good times fly; 
And now your Momma’s looks and all your Daddy’s money
Another sweet, warm Summer’s day they cannot buy. 


Details | Personification | |

Why Should I

Was it enough or was it too much?
Sometimes too fast but always too slow!
God knows that I come with these seeds that grow.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch,
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one that knows?
Stepping through time and sliding back so smooth so I go!
I say I can qualify!
Where was I and why was I there?
Sometimes too obvious but always with doubt!
God knows that I come riding in on a prayer.
I absorb every single touch inside and out,
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one that cares?
Climbing the highest mountains and sliding down so steep but on a dare!
I say I can magnify!

What did I say and what did I do?
Sometimes too quite but always too loud!
God knows that I come with a gleam that shines so proud.
Inside and out I absorb every single touch by you.
But why should I? 
Why should I be the only one in the crowd?
Walking on water and walking backwards but at least I know how.
I say I can intensify!
Do I want to or do you need me to?
Sometimes I wonder and sometimes I simply don’t care.
God knows that I come standing on a higher sky of blue.
I absorb every single touch by you inside and out with this glare.
But why should I?
Why should I be the only one with this view?
Up in the clouds and aimless but always led by you!
I say, “I SANCTIFY”!


®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich


Details | Free verse | |

To Be Thirteen

I found a surfboard once,
Along the banks of the Cherokee Lake.
A dirty, stained, half-broken plank.
My cousin and I drifted it out
To see if it could still keep its head up.

I waded among the leaves,
In a shallow bay where our
Campsite smoked from the morning's fire.
Treading water, holding tight, I examined
My vessel -- I pulled myself on board.

The breeze hit my dripping back,
Sending chills to my toes.
I stood, stumbled, and lifted my
Hands; crucified by the mid-morning air.
Eyes closed, I tasted the water on my lips.

I found myself among the reeds and cold
Waters of a lake. Thirteen and Shivering.


Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.


Details | Personification | |

Drawn in Harmony

The phrase "Music to my ears" has been injected toward the 
wrong part of my body, and most unpleasantly personified. 
There is a record player that I let skip and scratch on purpose, hearing 
colorful sound of life back when truth kept us both inside the lines. 
I thought order was helping me draw closer to you, while you began on the next 
page without me. The needle digs it's way into my ape-shaped forearm. 
I'm directed by the guitar string shaped veins 
that only play notes in the keys of D# E# A# F# and the sharp sounds pierce 
my perception to the point I can hardly hear your voice anymore. 

At times, listening to the same old sad song on repeat makes me think
that I am just an old soul getting repeatedly tossed around in God's 
big barrel of human paradox. "Lord what was I made for? Surely it wasn't 
to repeat the mistakes of my forefathers, because I'm certain I am the 
only one you molded with forearms so large, that the record got lost 
and forgot how to spin in circles. Music is all about art, and art all about 
perception. Perception has nothing to do with your eyesight, and 
you use your ears to envision the painting on a blank canvas before picking 
anything else up but sound waves. I drive myself crazy sometimes when 
I think that my inspiration is speeding away from me in the 
opposite lane, but I didn't even ask for directions. Mostly because I'm a man, 
a stubborn one at that, and I always think I know where I'm going. 
But this time, I swear I had gotten the map right. So I transformed my open 
hands into tight fists to make music burst out of my arms, and the needle went 
faster and faster until it broke off, and the high pitched vibration 
disintegrated the steel into my own blood. I blame myself for letting this 
be the first time to let myself draw some air into my body. A surgery of 
scalpels cutting into my physical, and an orchestral symphony of sutures, 
threading my life back together again. My blue blood turns crimson as it kisses the air. 
Why do we associate the color red with life and vibrancy, when it clearly shows that we are letting our own blood run down our arms? Why do so many women where red lipstick; the kind that sticks to your collar, screaming to your wife that you clearly sinned? 
Why do we see sin so clearly; transparent enough for others to correct us before we really we even grasp the desire to fix ourselves? AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS THIS MUSIC PLAYING SO LOUDLY NOW; when my needle broke off into my body a long time ago, and I can hardly hear you anymore.
Good thing my life's song still isn't completely written yet. Let's add a more positive climax to this. One drawn in harmony.


Details | Free verse | |

This Lovely Vase

This Lovely Vase

This lovely vase
So delicate and fine
Shines now by the window.

This lovely vase
Has known more years than I
Known the touch of many

This lovely vase
Once a Wedding present 
So my Nana said

This lovely vase
Once stood with flowers tall
Nana’s home grown blooms

This lovely vase
A careless touch and then
Fragments on the floor

This lovely vase
Pieces now were gathered
Mended then with gold

This lovely vase
As it sits there on the window
Catching sun’s bright glow

This lovely vase
More lovely than before
Now trimmed in gold 

This lovely vase
Healed by the scars of time
Still with grace and beauty


Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Thin

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
For kicks is why I do it now.
You tell me to love but I never knew how.
Our feet hitting pavement,
We spent the day in sunny California with sun kissed skin.
I’m learning to forget and how to fade scars,
And you let me let myself down so hard.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
And now I just do it for smiles,
We’ll never see flower girls stumbling down aisles.
I’d lose my head just before that chance,
But if you want we can still have a first dance.
Cause I think I say things that I don’t mean,
Once upon a time you meant the world to me.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
But I’m trying to refrain,
To make this not all end up in vain.
Maybe I can learn to love like some people do,
And you can learn to love yourself a little too.
Or it is in all fairness to let this go?
I guess we can try but then we’ll never know. 


Details | Rhyme | |

An Amulet of Peace

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An AR16 rifle in my hands….
Seemed like such a paradox,
In the paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
A man’s life was in my hands….
That life was not only mine,
While trying to survive in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
Hoping for guidance by God’s hand….
Ignore our sin, keep us alive and safe,
While fighting in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
My duffel bag in my hand….
After 13 months, I was going home,
No more to fight in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An Honorable Discharge in my hand….
Only to be spat upon, called ‘baby killer’,
By ‘peaceniks’ against the war in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace no longer hung ‘round my neck,
The challenge of a new life was at hand….
Found love, happiness and some success,
And tried not to think of Vietnam.

Again, that same amulet of peace hangs ‘round my neck;
And I hope my friends all understand….
I want our courageous young men and women
Out of Iraq and Afghanistan.


Details | Monorhyme | |

Stolen Tears

her stolen tears fall in peace
veiled from a world that will not cease
her knitted brows now show their crease
as she weeps into her comforting fleece
nothing can slow their rapid increase
as they finally find their release…


~Inspired by the wonderful Monorhyme by Nette Onclaud "Black Tears"~

Nette,
You are an amazing poet and you are missed here every day.
I hope that these words find you well and that you will be back 
to inspire more of us here at the Soup!


Details | Free verse | |

Throwing Sand

Ludicrous childhood - 
It's a sweet, sun-drenched day at 
The beach with family!
Spunky and childish - 
Throwing sand everywhere...fun!
I aim at strangers ~x~
Craaaazy memories
I still remember Summer
And its beach wonders! 
Obnoxious laughter
Is heard as we step foot in 
Freezing, salt water...x.x
The beach is God's pool
It's like a playground - tides come
ROLLIN' IN...splashing!
We can't stay in one place
We're drifting away 
Into a phase of youth's bliss...
We can't keep a steady pace 
We're slippin' and fallin' and slidin'
But we wrap around our merriness 
We're swimmin' and playin' around
Without a single care 
We're playing
A game of 

/Truth/      /OR/      /Dare/







Details | Rhyme | |

Black Diamond

A lovely lady you are, 
And lovely always be.
Your beauty bright as midnight stars,
And moonlight shining on the sea.

You're all that is fair and kind,
The sweetest dream and reality.
Many times you've crossed my mind; 
My lasting hope is of you and me.




©2013 Honestly JT


Details | Rhyme | |

I've Danced on Tables

I’ve danced on tables

My boots laced high

I have that kinda style

Cognac in one hand

Tambourine in another

I go on for miles

Songs of sorrow

Songs of love

Sweeping the night time air

Stars all aglitter 

A toast to you

Glasses raised high in the air

We sang and we danced

We laughed and romanced

Days that lasted forever

Now we look on

As they dance to our song

Our days have but gently ended


Details | I do not know? | |

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow



Details | Rhyme | |

Experiencing Cloud Seven

You make me feel so complete	 
You brought me up to my feet	 
You make me experience cloud seven 	
You brought me to your heaven 

Your words implant seeds of growth
Your eyes, an undying oath
You quench me with serpentine poetry  
You gave in to gravity 

You melted my heart of ice 
I’m your living sacrifice 
You watched over me with glistening eyes  
Your warmth never screams goodbyes   


Details | Prose Poetry | |

BEAUTIFUL THINGS

Some things are lost along the line
Some things, beautiful and fine
Driving down the lone road to the stream in my hamlet
It’s like yesterday; like catching birds from their nest
I giggled as I drove by
Mothers breast feeding babies and singing lullaby
Naked boys rolling condemned tires, and
Ripped virgins with little cloths coverings, as attires

I giggled as I drove by. It’s just like yesterday
I remember Jerome and others as we gathered to play
There was the moonlight rendezvous
Where we all gathered, boys, and girls, all of us
There was the tales by the moonlight,
Ancestral heritages, sacrifices and the Lion’s might
The Lion’s might, yet he falls beneath the crafty tortoise
I still can hear the choruses; I hear my youthful voice
I loved folklore songs. Wars songs for strong sons

Let me try seeing if I can still sing one more;
Yes! I still can sing “Omalingwo”
Omalingwo, Omalingwo tee …… Omalingwo
Omalingwo, Omalingwo nwam…… Omalingwo
Omalingwo, Omalingwo dia …… Omalingwo
Nne nei di na Otutu-aja-o………..Omalingwo
Elikwue ma yu atuna ngwo ji ……Omalingwo
Ngwo, ngwo onye oma………….Omalingwo

My God, I feel new!
I can still sing it! Oh God I knew!
Omalingwo! Story of the child of a deprived mother
Jealous king’s wives over ready for murder
Murder and deprivation if that will give them a son
To sit on the king’s throne and shine forth like the sun
Story of good over evil. Omalingwo!
A deprived mother’s son.

I giggled as I drove along,
Remembering my tiny breasts, when they formed
And more fortunate girls laughing me to scorn
I remember these things till sadness beclouded me
I am fully grown now; nostalgia overshadow me
My age mates, plus me, all gone to the cities
We can’t assemble again, just like broken pot in pieces
Oh! The Eve’s tempting apple of white collar jobs

I heard Jerome lived and then died in Jos
Killed by religious rioters with missions unjust.
I heard Nwasombia is a head dresser is Lagos
At 52 and still searching? Celibacy is obvious
I heard Nosike is in aviation, head of pilots
Even Chima is now in parliament in Cyprus
Chima, who spoke big English like “opprobrious”

My age mates, plus me, all gone to the cities
No more gatherings, just like broken pot in pieces
Still driving along the lone road to the hamlet stream
Still thinking of beautiful things
The beautiful hamlet serene things.


Details | Free verse | |

a requiem

as my life dances cross a veil not seen i lie down my worth on breath that fades with hope now gone to solve errs long past notes symphonically fill the pages of days observed through shadowed glass muted childhood musings seem to glow charge hard! at adolescence's cusp the hours fill with hoards of fury comes now the strength in freedom feelings mount in shades of red she encompasses my life with deep hues of joy at love's genesis growing in multiples and steady the pace combining in wisdom that passes through youth, grinning youth, flourishes the front for the amber arrives and peace ensues gentle is the dusk as days now slow will i be of whom they speak? the dark is upon as my love went before peace has settled, what shall await? troubled no more, willfully i go


Details | Free verse | |

That Blue Car

Pressed, 
by the city heat 
in that blue car,
permanently parked under embers of sunlight
until the moon
Breaks and swells in the sky,
easing the metal. Making cracks in the colour
and breaking the leather.
Aged by fair weather 
and fairly harsh wear.
It smells like…
old and laughs and memories,
sometimes like tears and cries and photographs.
And it feels like them too.
On my skin and pressed against my  back,
Grains of wishes and wants that now are dead.
How far did you drive before you could see,
The old concrete block that
crushed your resolve 
that mangled and
twisted you,
buried you here?
That caught you
in pen
immortalised you?


Details | Free verse | |

Flat Canvas

Flat canvas;

Bubbling brown ridges strike 
The confining dimensions in a hostile yawn: 
Upwards, Outwards.

Walk the world no longer, an ending beckons, 
A precipice builds moments where swallows wager wings 
On new seed: New breeds.
Falling buys the assurance of seconds
From a sinking well. 
Oh well.

Remember us when the globe begins to slip,
Bang drums for our pity:
Our crescendos mean less than meaningless.
And then, when spheres crack, continue 
On the whorl of a thumb, 
Stretching hope to nothing.
Run.


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Rhyme | |

Flawless Wish

Written by D. W. Breidenthal 


You take my breath away

I wanna stay in this entrancing paradise
I want all of the negativity to fade away 
The darkness isn’t my property…I despise
Living a life that’s filled with misperception and disaster 

I would love to live in the ocean’s ecstasy 
That would be spectacular if we can abide in the sparkly sea

This eccentric dilemma makes your angelic features too unclear 
It chills me to the bone…
My heart pounds with hope and fear… when will peace draw near
This flawless wish remains unknown

The night’s approaching…seek shelter and light
Painstaking regrets – I can’t back away from gravity’s pull 
Hand me the rope and don’t bestow your burdens upon my soul 
Sift away the misfortune and allow me to put up with the fight
Help me fulfill my flawless wish
And I’ll strip away your anguish

You’re a burning candle
I raise my head up from the mud
I step forward with courage that I couldn’t handle 
On my own, but you stripped away the agony 
Watch us grow and sprout as one flower bud!

You took my heart to a wonderful place
I wanna desert this decaying body of mine and seek you in splendid light
You forgave me for my wrongs…you thrilled me with praise 
I wanna embrace the dawn’s incredible, appealing light...
Sweeping away the deploring night  

It soothes my sensitive heart…dismissing my vexing misery  

I have the urge to repaint the breathtaking memories I’ve spent with you
Will it scratch away the sorrow?
I have to search for shelter and burn away our calamity – slaying us with rue
 
Will my flawless wish store hope for tomorrow? 


Details | Ballad | |

Poppies of Remembrance

Time, to buy our poppies
To remember once again
remember those who died for us
And those who were just maimed
We must also remember
Those, who lost their loved ones
Mothers, sister’s, daughters
Fathers, brothers, son's
What a lot of us can't imagine
What torment that must be
But they all gave their lives for us
To make our country free
In one hundred years
Two wars some endured
lost fathers in the 1st, sons in the last
This fighting is absurd
And still we send our menfolk
To fight the wars abroad
 Please end this madness
I beg thee dear lord...

We think we're in recession
But do we  really know
The hardships that our grandparents
Suffered against the foe
Bombed out of house and home
Nowhere else to go
Then all neighbours rallied round
To help they were not slow
Rationing came about
For food, for clothes, for fuel
From just scrag ends of meat
Made appetizing gruel
Women took over men’s jobs
In factories, farms and such
Blackouts, sirens, shelters
Hardship there was much 
Army, air force and navy
Were not the only ones
But fire-fighters, nurses, doctors
Air raid wardens, everyone
They all played some part
In winning against the foe
Many lost their lives
A dreadful way to go
Some might say its better
To die instantly my friends
For many, many suffered
In agony till the end
We can’t possibly imagine
What it's like there at the front
Many months of fighting
With no end in sight
In trenches, 
Your comrades all about you lying
Water logged and stinking,
Lying, crying, dying.
So please stand in silence
Remember, remember them 
They fought for our freedom
Our women and our men


Details | Free verse | |

Deep Purple Dreams Of Calico- And You

                                        *~ Deep Purple Dreams Of Calico And You  ~*
                                                       by anne p murray



Your image appears…
     through a purple-hued haze of silence
weaving its whispered magic spell
     while you re-connect the strings of my heart 

You go about undressing my soul
     as I watch your image drift in my celibate reality
I witness the melody play its lonely tune
     But…
It is absent of the warmth of touch
     for it's only your image I see…
my heart's held hostage by the cry of the songbird 

My unknown lover…
     kidnapped- by the makers of dreams and fantasies
experiencing the uncertainty
     of the child that lies sleeping deep within

Alone…
    with the clever artists of dreams and visions
encountering the forever of my loneliness
    brushing off blurred images of repeated memories 
sleeping to be hugged-dreaming to be loved

Oh yes...
    I've dealt with kings, queens and dragonflies
in the dancing reverie of fragments of my reality
    gliding in and out of the dust of Heaven's stars
sprinkling me with their sweet purple dreams

They make their nightly visits into my fantasies, my thoughts...
    painted by the makers and weavers of dreams
Coming out of their secret, hidden places
    they silently reveal their amethyst, painted masterpieces
lightly kissed in dewy, lavender scented bliss 
    softly swaddled in dream woven swathes...
of deep purple dreams of calico - and you   
 
                                                                  *~*


Details | Lyric | |

Wrong

I sit upon, my thoughts so blunt:
I hear the birds that cry,
Not what I do, but what I can't, 
One can only try. 

I look upon, the sky so dark, 
The air is cool and still. 
The journeys that I won't embark,
Feelings I'll never feel. 

I'll walk this road, with uncertainty: 
I'll help myself along, 
Until I rest-- eternally,
Forgetting all my wrong.


Details | I do not know? | |

Good Morning, Apocalypse Now : A Tribute to a Vietnam Veteran

Untitled 5
(My Uncle: Good Morning, Apocalypse Now)

My uncle doesn't speak much
about Vietnam or the stuff
he witnessed when he 
was just a boy. See,
he likes to drive the back roads fast 
and honk at random cars that pass.
His friendly gestures always lead to how
he grew up compared to kids now. 

Jumping and racing trains on the tracks
became dodging bullets and carrying his buddy on his back.
The marshes and dirt valleys here
became the forests and trenches of the military frontier. 

Last year, my sister donned his jacket
a fatigued fatigue that hung in his closet. 
In color and memory darkened,
kept out of sight for fear it would harken
the PTSD he's stuggled to avoid. 

He saw his brothers, young like him
to Vietnam succumb
while on American soil
and he promised he would never speak,
for fear his stomach would coil, 
when remembering rice - a dish he no longer enjoys.
And there's no orange on his clothes to remind him of the agent that destroyed.

When he speaks a calm 
"Good morning", I wonder if he's thinking of Vietnam
or if he knows
that I admire his strength and 
bravery and how 
he continually fights against 
the "Apocalypse Now".


Details | Free verse | |

a prime rose

The weakened soft thoughts lay humble 
within future coats 
a darkened past tracks scampered shines 
forth a morning of immortal moved elements 
it will bring away 
a prime love can't be replaced 
and thus it comes 
a very open hide light of it's first sight 
in pursued windows of no time 
sun anyway goes down and hot as hell 
by age 
gray visions,left behind in desire, 
revealed 
delicious empty shades of dawns 
filds or doors 
just dusk doors 
and spilled life only are 
these present words 


Details | Free verse | |

My cobain smile

I want to drown my urge to die
I want to kill my pulse inside
I can't breathe, I'm paranoid
Everything in life I avoid

Don't speak to me, I'll look away
Inside my eyes is just decay
 I'm already dead, but have yet to die
Why do I keep my body alive

My soul is dead, eyes are lies
So is the smile I hide behind
Pull the plug, I'm a fake
In a nightmare and I cannot wake

Drown me! I'm flooded in pain
Please help me regain
Some peace, some rest 
I want to die to live again

Set me free 
Slitting my wrists isn't working
The more stares I get
The more I become numb
I just need to be gone
Eliminate my pain, 
I'm already out of breath 
Suffocating on my hopelessness

Every day I am alive 
But I'm craving to die inside
Curved smile because your so naive
You think I'm happy 
Yet I'm being crushed
My head is overflowing 
With these thoughts that are too much

One word, suicide
Sparks a light inside of my eyes

I don't want to pretend to live
Let me go, flood me in sin
There is where I want to swim
Six feet under the ground

Don't be selfish 
And keep me in pain
To tourture my lifeless body again
Let my body float soundly
Rushing water, ocean salt
I promise I won't feel it at all.

End it, hold me under 
Then bury me so I can slumber
Goodbye lifeless eyes
As I'm dying I'll be coming alive
Haunting images 
Deleted from my mind
Laughing 
As I leave this world behind

Water 
Floods my lungs 
Death 
Leans in for a kiss

Together we sink into insanity
And drown in infinitys abyss. 


Details | Free verse | |

Time

Time. 
A challenge all of mankind faces, but yet I feel so alone. 
How am I supposed to deal with this?
Is there a book written that tells me how I can face the omnipresent calendar, who judges my character when I fail to meet his deadlines?
Because when I slow down I have to remember. 
The world doesn't stop with me.
It continues. 
Seasons and people change and go. 
They don't wait for me.
I am moving forward, trying to evolve into a butterfly. 
But to this fat caterpillar, it seems impossible.
The world never stops. 
It doesn't give me a chance to breathe. 
A chance to worry about the person I'm becoming.
A chance to change my ways and realize what lies ahead. 
A chance to look up into the skies above.
Above me, what is above me?
Is there a god, mocking me, preventing my transformation?
Or is there a glass faced clock, ticking slowly, begging me to bide my time.


Details | Free verse | |

God Saw My Distress and Healed Me part 4

This question drives me up and down the walls
I know for certain that God has answered my calls
I can’t hang up on Him…He’s so brilliant
And I’m so little compared to Him…
Maybe I’m little in size and very insignificant compared to the most High
He gives me quite a natural high
He brings me back home and kisses me good night
Without His love, I’d be lost like a sheep losing his shepherd
I feel like I’m separated to God
As if God and I are on both sides of the coin…
Our oceans don’t collide with each other,
But He does make huge tidal waves…
And I make baby waves that swerve up and down
Like a wave’s movement, my life seems to have its low points and high points
But, when I build enough energy, I glide higher than the clouds
Though, unfortunately, I’ve only been dreaming this
Then, I collapse into the sand...my face rubs against it and I have scrapes all over
Sand and water do mix well, but afterwards, the sea shore’s weight will pile up on the bottom of the ocean floor
I can’t imagine how many grains of sand there are on Earth
There are countless amounts of ants on Earth as well
Trillions and trillions of them are in existence
It’s amazing how plants take in Carbon Dioxide
And we breathe in oxygen…
God is a fantastic creator and He did carve His creations pretty well
God saw my distress and He healed me
When I think about Him, I’m speechless and can’t say much
He’s made out of love and He bubbles me up with excitement
I haven’t given Him the credit of working miracles in my life…
But, I don’t want to divorce God…I must propose to Him like a wife
Does to her husband…I want to submit to Him
He made the sunset, the moon and stars
Look! He even made the planets and He healed our scars
He made the flowers, the roses and the creeping bugs
Look! He even made leaves for our eyes to see…
He made the change of seasons
God saw my distress and healed me
God made the wild cats, bears, reptiles
He made us have a brain that is as neat as black and white tiles
God healed me…and I’m simply glad He did so
God wiped out my distress…and He simply dressed me with happiness and He’s in high spirits to see me grow

 ~ Inspired by the band of Evanescence’s song: Never Go Back 
~ God inspired me to write this poem…


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Times' Wall

Adding to the eons past, its’ content there to swell
Are the names of friend and foe, whose names we’ve known quite well.

There upon the Halls of Time, those names are etched so deep
As silent, lonely sentinels which eternity shall keep.

The clock will tick ‘til someday hence – a day we know not when
Our name is called and then installed as our recompense

For all we were, or would have been, reduced by that one call
To just another name … etched upon Times’ Wall. 


Details | Free verse | |

little pale lies


sometimes, i get a wave of sadness over me.

i love you, and i want to be with you,

but

you deserve someone

a little less neurotic

and

a little more normal.

someone who is honest when she whispers, “I’m so happy”

under the covers.

you make me happy.

but you shouldn’t have to change me like that.


Details | Rhyme | |

Magic Potions

                                                
All the creams and all the lotions,
Are not always the magic potions;
That keep our fleeting youth alive,
And help our dimming hopes survive.

As I sit here and ruminate,
On age that comes as sure as fate;
Finding wrinkles here and there,
Are right in tune with thin grey hair.

All that was said is coming true,
It comes to all not just a few;
So we need to shield the eyes,
From finding that time truly flies.

I’ve heard with doubt there is a rumour,
We need treat age with some humour;
But best we sit and think awhile,
And embrace old age with a smile.


Details | Rhyme | |

Maturity's Memory

Youth has its’ exuberance
But patience it knows not
Maturity found its’ patience
But liveliness’ forgot

Maturity looks back
At its’ wake upon Life’s sea
And identifies things
Which could and could not be

Experience: the teacher
Through dreams that motivate
‘Twas situations’ circumstance
Which helped to form our fate

Excitement filled events
While Passion fired its’ flame
Within that Youth resulted in
Accolades … or blame.

It’s smiles that reform faces
In Maturity’s recollect
Through memory’s open door …
In warming retrospect.

Time is unforgiving
But Youth can never know
Only Maturity’s Memory
Can make that Time go slow.


Details | I do not know? | |

I Stand, Alone



I stand, alone.

Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,

I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.

Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,

I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.

I stand, alone.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mirror

Sunshine shoots through the windows and fills the house with grace,
Ricochets around the room and finds my weathered face.

Standing at a mirror I see refracted light
On wrinkles, lines and eyes of mine reflected to my sight.

The youth that once looked back at me
Has gone – I know not where – in vain I search the glass, and find: No … it isn’t there.

Instead I see the wrinkles – they are stress of many years
Produced in times of doubt and my unfounded fears.

My eyes see lines and furrows as they track across my face
Hard times are buried there as my eyes complete the trace.

At the corners of my eyes I see: a pair of old “crows feet”
They’re etched there forever from those times my life was sweet.

A lifetime full of memories comes bouncing off the glass
A memory consumes me - as I feel still more time pass.

In the Winter of a lifetime, my memories come to play
Oh, thank God I have them – pray they never go away.

I turn from my glass mirror – that used to be my friend
As thoughts of those reflections I try to comprehend.

My face - it is my diary of experience I’ve had
And then I tell myself: “You know … those lines …
      they really aren’t so bad.”


Details | Rhyme | |

Dust From The Past

            Dust From The Past

Vanishing lines of time like wrinkles sleep
Through sand and dust dark ages dry
Stretch back as filtered thoughts we try to keep
As it stings the eyes through memory as we cry

For love, one true love, is it there once more?
Is it there lost in the fog, lost like war?

We struggle like swinging strings back to the past
Gather like dust forming on the mantel piece
When we reach our destination there at last
We rest upon the fire place with peace

Two specks of dust resting side by side
Rebirth upon the fire place of past desires
Perhaps all fires burn out in times lost tide
We raise a glass that our love will not expire  


Created on 10/23/14 for- Pick A Title – Poetry Contest


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                                                Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
          Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
                                                He holds the key to this new world.

The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience 
          Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped 
                                                Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence 
          Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped 
                                                Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.

My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
          In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
			   Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
          On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
                                                Our intrepid journey commences...


Details | Rhyme | |

long days of the past

i speak trouble yes
i speak trouble
late night rumble
very quiet mumble
summertime symptoms
slipped in subtle
suddenly i want to see
the warmth right before
the crunching of some autumn leaves
too hot at noon, makes the warmest evenings
writing on walls, illegal to draw
remind me of nights, all fear was small
bliss and inner peace
abundant as dinner treats
everyday i made away
with darker skin, and dirty feet
heart disease not bittersweet
park and freeze like little creeps
when passerby, might quantify
activities, helping secrets to keep
no such trouble yes
no such trouble
all the wonder, many lovers
i wrestled and played with shovels
pedestrian and landlord
i rummaged through the rubble
pasta without sauce, and gallons of tap water
vaporizing sacred flowers
that smell of exotic jungles
worries never entering
my vision like a tunnel
fleeting as a hummingbird
never ashamed to cuddle
never new a softer word
never cared for struggle
running free to paradise
cause my license priced had doubled
delighted to ride a bike
rain reason not to huddle
traveled all i sought to see
carpool or a shuttle
impermanence just a word
pouring down the funnel



Details | Free verse | |

Nocturnal farewells of ships(for the Black sea)

I left like the last tourist in late September
and threw a back-pack of memories over
my shoulders cherished in a fist size jewelry box
given to me by a dear friend.
But left my heart buried under
a lonely beach umbrella abandoned
by other tourists like me who left only
a trace of ashes from a pack of cigarets.
An image of you got caught in my eye like
a grain of sand caught in an oyster.
That's how a pearl is born.
An image of ships searching for suitable sands to anchor.
And your late afternoon waves like
white empty hammocks missed their siesta fading
into the horizon like drifters without a map.
With a blink of an eye I tried to crush you
but you formed harder and harder under
my eyelids.
Embedded in my mind mother of pearl.
Then Winter melted from Spring's worm touch
and turned into cherry blossoms
plucked by winds.


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | I do not know? | |

Without You



Without you,

worn down, weary,
staggering into tomorrow,
dissolving my todays, grim, dreary,

I crawl, slipping out of my skin,
flinging laughter, joy, contentment,
into the gaping abyss of life's dustbin.

Without you


Details | Free verse | |

Hard to Not Look, Easy to stay Staring

I've allowed that burning boat to float off without me
Rarely ever thinking about dissipating the flames, 
As it is hardly worth the time and effort. 
In Truth, 
There wasn't much of a future with that situation.
No matter the attempts
No matter the appeal
It was all for naught
The only thing I worry about now
Is looking back at the Flames
And hoping I am not entranced
By their Dancing Light


Details | Free verse | |

Our Divine Haven

This town was the place we used to call our haven 
You don’t remember which road we’ve driven on 
The stars were shining against your cherished soul 
You’re a part of my belongings 
You’re ascending above the ground 
The peace is still like hidden treasure – it’s bound to be found

I believe in you…I put my faith in you
After the miracles you’ve performed 
You don’t agree with what you truly are 
The sky is grieving 
You jump from puddle to puddle
You’re struggling to meet your destiny  
Even if your body is saturated in sweat
You must keep your head above the sea

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
I could tell you've been stressing out 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me  

Each melody is an exquisite sound that bounces into our ears
Commotion and strife will cease and your heart will be free
We’ll flee  together…despite the unwholesome weather 
The voyage has just begun…hold my hand and we’ll rise like the sun
Trust me…we will be strengthened and well-equipped before we take that road of victory  

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You’d rather be drifting away and never be seen again 
I wanna change your mind and erase your frown
Take your mind off of the distressful past
Let loose your strain on me  

Hey! I know you’re stronger than you realize
You’re not a failure – don’t be disheartened  
Don’t worry…you and I will earn our future prize 
This mess will clear up in a moment
Just stay by my side and never depart 
From the light… I promise that we’ll endure till the end
Just stay nearby and our hope won’t tear apart
We are willing to do anything to attain our wishes and delight  
Let’s take action and snatch our glory before our time is up 

Follow me and I’ll lead you to divine haven 
Forgive the past that embraces you with remorse and think upon our jubilant future
It’s tempting to just give up and turn around 
You've been trying to keep a steady pace 
But rest your head on my shoulders and let loose your strain on me

Let loose your stress on me…
Don’t be under pressure
Let me handle your anxiety…
Reach towards our divine haven
Do you need a helping hand? 

I wish you a carefree 
Future


Details | Rhyme | |

All That's Sure Is the Season

Approaching the winter of my years,
Never yet found my reason.
So much laughter, so many tears,
Yet all that’s sure is the season.

To few, all my days;
So many spent simply breezin’.
Should I regret their waste
When all that’s sure is the season?

What’s it been about anyway?
Perhaps there is no reason.
Did so want to learn the truth,
But all that’s sure is the season.

Always tried to consider others.
‘Tis much easier to be pleasin’. 
How many are my friends?
All that’s sure is the season

Felt the urge to make my mark.
Fame or fortune was my reason.
Fear of failure was my tether,
For all that’s sure is the season.

A man of Christian faith,
Hope God finds me pleasin’.
Fair chance tho’, I’ll go to Hell,
Yes, all that’s sure is the season.

So what of value will I leave?
Hearts and souls I may be teasin’
With too few words too few will read,
While all that’s sure is the season.

Approaching the winter of my years, 
Never yet found my reason;
But thank God for each extra day I search.
Still, all that’s sure is the season.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Do you like my raven eyes

As I walked down the street 
this morning 
I tried to be polite and inconspicuous 
You stare into my eyes; 
My brown eyes speak louder than my 
Husky voice ever will 

What are you looking for? 
Do you liked what you see 
Pain, shame or a sense of connection 
Love, nowhere to be found 
It ruthless, it vanishes, it disappoint 
By now us all know the stories 
Of lost-love, 

It begin with a smile 
A kiss, a warm embrace, 
Then tear and fears 
Do you love the raven in my eyes 
Sorry stranger! 
I paid my tithes, 

However, 

I lost my loves 
Caw, caw, caw! 
Do you love the raven in my eyes


Details | Free verse | |

As Go the Hours, the Days, the Years

                                                      1,

I remember 20:

Aflame with ideas and visions,
A mind unfettered by necessity's constraints,
Spirit open to everything -
Tomorrow held no fears, 
Yesterday no regrets;
There was only day following day,
Each new and with something to give,
And each corner I turned
Led down a new road
Where the joy was ever in the going,
With a horizon impossibly far and bright.

     Do you still see that youth somewhere inside
     When I gaze on you, Love,
     As I still see that girl with the laughing eyes
     Who ran down those roads with me?

That was our dreaming-time,
The cloudcastle years

When we could scarcely bear
The brightness of our own being.

The wonder of the world embraces the young,
And they return the embrace,
But like the children they so recently were,
They are distracted, and break away
Enticed by the next marvel
Peaking 'round the corner.

A part of us yet runs there, Love;
Running and running
Through the endless light.

                                                         2.

I remember 30:

Young parenthood, responsibilities.
We showed them all the light we could,
Let them run into it and find their ways.

Small voices grew to sound like our own;
Busy days and nights fly past
Like leaves blown out of the grasp of their trees,
Tumbling, mixing, moving on

Until at last the bigger voices went off on their own,
Running down new roads
Chasing their own marvels.

Now and again they return,
And we share our found treasures
And fondly laugh together
At Youth's follies and discoveries
And sigh within
At the beautiful light.

This was the time when we were Fortune's Fools,
And proud and happy to be.

                                                       3.

I remember 40:

The time of Action
The time of Challenge.

This is the time we found our strength,
Though it was sometimes purchased with pain.

This was the time of lessons,
Some of them hard.

This was also the age of flowing friendships -
Some growing, some degenerating, most holding stable,
Especially, of course, the good old ones,
The ones that stretch to childhood, and go on stretching still.

And finally, also our era of finding out:

     Our spouses really are our best friends
     How relative time truly is
     Why learning to Just Accept pays off
     Where the foci of our lives need to be
     When to roll over and when to dig in
     Who's a Friend and who's a Face.

The forties were something special.

                                                          4.

So now we stand in the middle 50s.

Less ahead than behind, for sure.

Youth is still not quite out of reach,
But age is on the horizon and beckoning.

Has Age brought wisdom along?

I think yes, but she's holding back,
Not saying much just yet.

Now the light has begun to slant;
There are decades to go,
But the afternoon has come on,
The hot day is cooling ...
Sunset is gathering into its birth,

     I know where we are now.
     I know who we are now.

We walk the shore and look ahead,
Knowing that after sunset comes the dawn again,
After a little rest in the starland between
As go the hours, the days, the years,
Pulled out, away into the great Unknown.

Now we walk together towards that sunset
And all the mysteries waiting there.
Together we shall find them all,
And when we reach the last, the Greatest,
I expect to turn and find again
That girl with the laughing eyes beside me,
Ready to run, and run, and run.



Details | Free verse | |

The Image Of Being In Need

The Image of Being In Need

My eyes are covered in gauze,
from dirt scratching 
both of my corneas.

My boyfriend leads me around
otherwise I'd find myself on my 
knees feeling the ground.

He takes care of me
and tends to my needs.

He accidently squirts 
ear wax cleaner
into my eyes instead 
of my prescribed 
eye drops.

Oh the pain,
I thought would 
drive me insane.
No apologies either!

He picks my clothes out
and helps me dress,
too close for my
comfort.

The humility found in 
depending on another
for survival was not high.

So glad I'm looking
for a new guy now,
the image of me
depending on him
for a lifetime
is not a good one.

For he left me
feeling more like
a burden then
a friend in need,
to me that
makes him 
a bad seed
for me.


Details | I do not know? | |

Within Me


Within Me

Flowing through the rivulets of my everyday thoughts,
memories of you surface, gasping for air, breathing in,
permeating, absorbed by the pores of my ageing skin.

Famished, greedily gulping mouthfuls of fractured life,
awash in distant yesteryear, when your feathery kisses,
banished the vacuum, dispelling my anguish and strife.

You are eternally carved, and embroidered into my soul,
I wash ashore, smashing against the boulders of the now,
seeking solace, begging for absolution with my empty bowl.

The book of fate is sealed shut, the tea-leaves have been read,
nothing remains within me, the burden of smiling has been shed.

Now I am stranded, between dreams and the empty years ahead,
searching for forgiveness, in the miles I have yet to wearily tread.



Details | Free verse | |

Reflections of Love

I need to heal and fast,
I can feel the time running out, all too soon.
But can't push myself out of the agony,
The threads of pain pull me back like a puppet.
 
I seem wrong to be grieving now, odd one!
Everybody else is no longer black,
Me, haven’t seen the sunlight for long;
The mansion, its corridors, the rooms  now my world.
 
The wound in my heart is still too fresh,
It forbids me from a sunset on the beach,
It forbids me from running or skipping,
It forbids me from laughter and joy...
 
In denial: they say but it's not all true, I accept
I know he is dead, He is no more
But do I dump him in my past and move on?
The thought makes me hate myself!
 
He would want you to smile again, live further..
Strangers tell me his likes and wants, the know-it-alls.
I look straight ahead and avoid their prying eyes
It’s a losing battle, I know but let me lose in grace...
 
Visitors keep pouring in, with flowers and tears.
He was a man loved by many, the crowd proves it,
Everybody seems shocked and pale but not as lost as me
I glide along the windows, reliving the shadow of memories...
 
The moments were many, uncountable even,
It crushes my soul to think, they are all I have,
I see his fingerprints on the window panes,
I search for mine too, just beside him they lay...
 
The garden is being watered, but by a strange hand
The plants understand the master is now below them, 
He will never enjoy their colors or drive away moths
His ashes and scent scattered around the mango tree..
 
I smile at the garden then burst out laughing,
Before I know, warm tears run down my nose
But there still lingers a smile, wet with glistening tears
I am happy he lived, he lived full and more...


Details | I do not know? | |

Passion in D-Major

Passion in D-Major


Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,

swirling,

to a symphonic crescendo,

of our shared heartbeats,

fading between the notes,

feeling your soft body entwined 
with mine,

your form bathed in my infinite 
kisses,

our orchestral desire rising,

conducting a shared fusing of 
passion,

... the music echoing ...

over the precipice,

on the brink of dazzling rainbow 
hues,

lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,

plunging through the depths of 
rhyme,

pleading,
forever pleading,

for a prolonged,

bouquet of shared time.


Details | Free verse | |

butterfly shutters

i feel down like this 
your the only one
who can break this curse
don't you ever feel 

oh i feel down like this

life is beautiful 
the piano leads me on 
seemingly touched by strays 
sunlight frees my rage 

well i feel stepped on now 
sometimes life is rough
i feel done with this 
cause i feel down like this 

oh i feel down like this 

life is so compressed 
i need you right now 
don't you ever forget 
i fell down like this 

sunlight cures my eyes 
when i feel down like this 
and your the only one 
don't you ever feel

"we take chances until chances take us away"


Details | Rhyme | |

Coffee, Bagel and Time

With walker support he enters the door
He’s there every day, from 10 to 4.
Orders coffee and bagel’d cream-cheese
Then sits there for hours with hands on his knees.

He sits near the window and watches his past
Within his mind as old shadows cast
His vague recollections of sweet reverie
Which only his fading memories see

A smile now and then becomes his vaccine
Against reality’s attempt on the scene
To interrupt the flow of the past
Which for decades he worked to amass.

Loneliness he constantly wears as a coat
His only companion: memories remote.
So … solemnly, quietly he spends his days
He rewinds his memories into replays

Aged and wrinkled thin hands so frail
Around 4 o’clock his walker assail
Again he shuffles out the front door
Tomorrow … he’ll return, and be there once more.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Seventh Fable

 The Seventh Fable 
The Seventh Fable 
 
Charlaxes Fables 
 
Mental Prefabrications 
 


People have preconceived ideas from Religion and Television 

combine these two ideas and no wonder everyone is mental. 

The Eye is just now thankful that the computer was not mine at age 14. The TV 
was enough to ruin me for life. It is no wonder that eye still don't have a life. 
Falling into cracks made just for me. Living in the NEW AGE causes so much 
uncertainty and problems we avoided in our past come back as daily necessities 
of the mass of useless protoplasmic mice eye once saw a man on the highway 
with a sign he was begging for more money to get some more useless wine so 
the people went zigging past avoiding him until he fell down on the ground it 
seemed to me he was passed out perhaps he died and no one buried him 
sounds like an episode of Twilight Zone. There was episodes eye will never 
forget the NOSE throbbing on the stairs inside the house the girl tried to leave the 
shelter of the fence once out she turned to dust the man with the wires in his arm 
seeing the oven where he was born the little airforce people in the GIANT 
woman's kitchen getting swept. 

It just occurred to me the ins and outs of celebrity imagine all the casting calls to 
make the episodes. AND the fact that Charlax was never chosen for even one of 
them seems sort of some kind of twisted justice the actors used were just the 
best of all the crème de le crème of all the hollywooded jest. Webseries Pilot 
casting call: 
The Charlax would be excellent at this OH wait look at that ethnic face. Male, 
open ethnicity, early to mid 30's - JG. Federal Agency Detective.  Good at his job, 
but fresh enough to still want to make a difference. Oh if eye were only Twenty 
Years different. A Twilight Zoned Detecative with the name Rick Roll selected and 
elected to be the actor of the myllineum. 
   


Details | Light Poetry | |

That Thing for the Center of a 45 Record

What is that thing called that used to fit a 45 record in its center hole?
I’m sure I used to know what it was called but old age has taken its’ toll.

They looked like a tornado that fit the spindle and they had three arms,
With it you could play a 45 record but the name isn’t setting off alarms.

I’ve asked around but no one my age can remember the name,
Spreader, spindle slider, spider to us they’re all the same.

We all remember using them and owing the little clipper a lot,
But a memory of the name of the thing it seems that we have not.

Without one in the center of your record your party would be sunk,
Your record would get off kilter then your band would sound like they were drunk.

I asked a woman I know who is still young enough to have kept her memory,
But to know of such a devise you have to be at least a 45 and she’s only a 33.


Details | Lyric | |

I Gave You Right Back

I remember when you gave yourself to me,
But I gave you right back.
Because I couldn’t stop hurting you,
And I hated doing that.
I can’t be selfish as I wanna be,
and much as I need your touch.
I can’t have that follow me.
Enough just might be enough.

But love comes all the way back around,
I didn’t know you then and I don’t know you now.

Hearts beat,
Trust me,
I asked mine to stop beating aloud.
Tears are dreams,
That have to flee,
Cause they’d been cast out. 
And smiles speak,
Yours talks to me,
But I replied with a frown.
Cause I can’t keep this up,
Enough is now enough.
Don’t look for me I’m gone now.


Details | Couplet | |

Crossing the Yellow Lines

Pavers of life worn down with ware
Solid blocks built upon, set with care
October years spent mending the cracks
that Septembers years most surely lacked

Crossing the yellow lines
with a quivering spine
as November draws nearer 
December years decline

Autumns harvest of memory troves
feels winters cold remembrance slow
Golden nostalgia, like falling leaves,
too briskly escapes in winters breeze

 © Debra Squyres


Details | I do not know? | |

Alone in the Early Morning Hours

What haunts you when you close your eyes
At night, about to fall asleep.
Knowing that there will be not a sheep
To count, but horrors from your past.

What crawls through your mind at night
Once you shut the lights all out.
Alone in the dark where the unknown blooms
Before your eyes without your knowing.

How much courage do you have
To stand up against all that you fear
When the wretched smiles from ear to ear?
Will you run from your demons, or will you fight?

So what comes for you when you close your eyes?
Skeletons dance in your corner closet,
Cackling with glee as they wittingly mock you
For your childish nightmares keeping you awake.


Details | Free verse | |

ELDER

That child of adventurous spirit
is still in me, although I have aged
and strength has dwindled;
yesterday a mile was a yard,
a day had a hundred hours.
My body resembled that of an Adonis:
with solid muscles and a firm skin;
today, my chin sags and varicose veins show.
I challenge time with a smirk,
but signs of aging are all over me as fate laughs
at my wish of being young again.
In vibrant youth, girls flocked to me and smiled... 
now, they look down on me 
and whisper among themselves, " He's handsome,
but kind of old! " Does it make me feel good?


Details | Free verse | |

Your Love is Like Nitric Acid ...

The Metal plunged into the nitric 
acid mix releases  yellow fumes.

Heavy workman's gloves.
Ventilation...

The acid splattering onto the skin
 burns leaving yellow stains.

Apply water.

The image now etched into the metal 
bubbles where the image is left raw.

Ventilation....

Gas mask and eye goggles.

How do you know how long to leave
the metal plate in the acid?

Timer.

Deep etches left in longer, 
create  deeper grooves.

Your Love is like nitric acid
Eating away at my heart.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Fiend of Time

The fiend of time is preying on the substance of my youth,
I’m smoldering away existence to avoid the awful truth
That time is not my friend and the enemy is myself,
And there’s little more to do but accept its mocking stealth.

In a blink of an eye it’s gone, like it was never there before,
All those years I’ve wasted, when I should’ve been doing more.
Planning for the future or treating each day like the last
But living in the fast lane you don’t even see it pass.

Suddenly you realise that time is slipping away,
A terrible fear is rising with every passing day
The life style that we lead is a fast track to demise
And even with this knowledge we will not compromise.

When I look at my reflection I see what is yet to come,
This pleasing image standing here is soon to be undone.
And when ten years have passed and the image comes to life,
What will I be thinking then, having gone through all that strife?

The fiend’s grip is closing in with no time for preparation,
The waiting room of life where we’re chained by anticipation
Of traumas to unfold of which we’re blissfully unaware
The fiend of time ticks on for a world that doesn’t care.


Details | Narrative | |

THE LUSH HILL

The lush hill towered over the quite town mostly built with big rock;
it had three tall church towers
with different distinguished styles: Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque...
wondrous was every sunrise!


   
Oh, their loud bronze bells could be heard ringing
through the vast, sun-washed and peaceful valley
sorrounded by mountains that reached a sky so dazzling...
then the clock-tower stroke each hour so precisely!


The summer's aroma was kind of strong and irritated the eyes,
and it almost got me drunken as aged wine does;
and I ran to the lush hill thinking of finding a treasure
in a cave that the invading Normans might have hidden in there!


But to my surprise, only frescos of martyrs were discovered;
all the while, that treasure was in front of me:
Nature opening up with its magnificent beauty!
It took observation and reflection for the rare gifts it rendered.


Whenever I ran to the lush hill, either morning or afternoon,
I was astonished by the humble faces of saints showing no demise 
for their persecution and carnage by beast such as ferocious lions... 
as those pious faces looked to Christ for comfort in their doom!


Their image made me much stronger and believer in the Shepherd
whose sheep never was lost among grunting wolves waiting aside; 
and every mystery revealed, it grew to teach me not to be afraid...
when profound silence arrived bringing delights to an innocent child. 


Oh, lush hill...keep my image of young boy intact even after I die;
let it come alive when sheer curiousity arises and tantalizes...
to make me climb that lush hill again for the heart to fantasize,
and 'though my health may not be as vibrant as then, I must try!


Details | Free verse | |

eternal summer dream

an autumn songbird gives voice to the luxurious late day
beautiful its song caresses the ear
all natural world breathing as one with your heart
as the sun itself kisses you tenderly
as if saying farewell to you and the day
and as the sun slips to the horizon
you close your eyes and can feel heart take to wing
with the autumn songbird playful in the crisp air
feel your soul breath and soar among the clouds
floating in the warm breeze of
that eternal summer dream where
everyone is forever young and in love
forever happy and filled with wonder
the autumn songbird fills me with her song
fills me with the strength of possible beauty that the new day promises
fills me with the peace found at the heart of kindness
so will you join me
rejoicing her song
will you take a moment to breath in
the wonder of late autumn summery day


Details | Free verse | |

Notary Unnoticed

I see
reflection

But is it 
me
seeing
again
as if
the first time
we hadn't
made love

Or perhaps
we
were
in love
and not
out of 
it

Pushing
it

between us

like
strangers


Details | Imagism | |

On the heaven mat

They might be many
luminaries on his
face,
And many clouds are
gathered in his lace
But only nights may
wave so big crystal.
Reckless, the stars
roll over the aim
vital;
Black holes, for
nothingness may
call;
On heaven`s mat, the
diamonds fall…

And saints collect
them for later
In the river from
sky; then, as
better:
As those who are
thirsty in the
desert 
Of their life, tired
to dig deep and
alert,
Will find the
searchers of
treasure`s verses 
Once, written by
clouds on the sky of
Xerxes.


Details | Verse | |

Generations

I wrote this after a conversation with an old retired fisherman whilst sitting on the harbour wall at Mousehole in Cornwall, UK ...

The old man sits by the pots on the wall
He looks out to sea and remembers it all
Although he's retired and now lives life at ease
he's spent fifty years upon the high seas

He first went to sea as a very young lad
and was trained in the fisherman's ways by his dad
He had little schooling, was not good at reading
but his father had taught him the skills he'd be needing

How to tie knots and to swab down the decks
and just where to fish to avoid sunken wrecks
He could forecast the weather with a glance at the sky
the shapes of the clouds and a well practiced eye

When his dad died, this now grown up nipper
inherited the boat and became its new skipper
As the years passed he became a dad too
and taught his young son to fish as he grew

It's now a few years since the man lost his wife
so he sits all alone and looks back on life
A life that was hard with no time to rest
but he knows in his heart that he's done his best

The son carries on the family trade
a life on the sea is the life he's now made
A new generation to carry it on
The boat will still sail when the old man has gone

So he sits on the wall and waves to his son
His life nearly over but his son's just begun
He knows that the boat has a really good skipper
and all in good time it will pass to HIS nipper


Details | Ballad | |

Games 'Father to Son'

Monolopy,Trouble,Operation too
All those games I played with you
As time went on and you started to grow
Yathzee,Uno and games on the floor.
Poker,Euchere, Casinos.....WOO HOO!!!
All grown up....
Now "What Do We Do"??


Details | Bio | |

To my Big Sister on her 65th

You are my older Sister
You have been since I was born
I remember playing in your garden
And hearing your cockerel calling in the early morn
These things bring back great feelings
Memories of picking strawberries near the lawn
Playing in the river and walking in the lanes
Running through fields of corn
It’s now your Special Birthday
65 years since you was born

You are very Special to me
Like the birds singing in the morning dew
You are my oldest Sister
I love you through and through
I wrote you this little poem
I wrote it just for you
Now go out and celebrate
And have a drink or two!
Eric100b


Details | I do not know? | |

Darkness and the Sun

Slowly darkness reaches out

gently killing all thats bright

pushing out all the light

filling  everything with night.


wait I call out to the day

please can't you stay

or at least take me away


but the light 

the light does not respond

instead countiues to fade


only the night

only the night wind answers my plea

saying whoo? Whooooooo?

Whoooo are youuuuu that youuuu shouuuld go with the light?


Alone i'm left.


When the darkness comes 

it reaches out for me

wrapping around me 

I feel the gloom breaking down my shield


So one more time I call out to the light, 

Calling for the Sun

Please Please rescue me from the night!


Then suddenly I see the Sun,

Rising,

I feel the warmth of His rays,

wrapping around me

holding me in the Light


I am here

you are not alone

I will always return.

Never  fear for the Night is the one that will always fade away.


So when the Night comes

When he steals everything that sparkles

Remember that you are not alone

that the Sun will soon be hodling you.




5/29/08 





Details | Free verse | |

Eternity

it seems unfair to me sometimes
that life has to end.
i hold you in my sight
paused in motion
refusing to forget the patterns of your face
youth only fades
yet noone wants to fathom
what age portrays
watching you now, at age 22,
your ceaseless movements
both delicate and benign,
you are locked in with a click like a mechanism
implanted within my shaking mind.
anchored in my thoughts
afraid i may lose sight,
dreading what is inevitably to come,
our ancient human rite.
what is it we have really
but phases full of longing,
short lifetimes of solitude,
then subsequent terms of bliss
it seems strange to say that i am not sorry 
for little secret moments such as this.
i will not apologize
for having lived and hoping to live long
nor argue choice or afterlives
or hear you claim im wrong.
it seems we believe in nothing more
than dirt and cold and brine
i believe in the simple glory of your hands 
large and gregarious inside my small ones, 
eternity proven,
entwined.


Details | Free verse | |

1910 Forever

            1910 Forever

Let’s see now my little fellow
That will be .14 cents for the dozen eggs
Laid fresh today
.04 for the pound of sugar
Sweeter than a sunny day
.15 cents for the coffee beans
And the conversation is entirely free
The year is 1910 again forever
Mark Twain, born when Halley’s Comet came
I remember it like yesterday
We would raft on the Mississippi all day
He went out with the comet when it returned
April 21st. 1910 is when he died
While Halley streaked briefly in the sky
Most men lived to be 47 
So we had an extended time to play
There were 45 states back then
I only made .22 cents an hour at my job
Working at the apothecary 
And so much fun in the sun
When I was younger
I would run real fast from the store with the goods
Run even faster past the school
Play hooky and get some fishing in 
I still live for 1910
If I had it to do over I would do it again


Details | Senryu | |

Grandpa

storm clouds billow west
weather vane creaks north to east…
left knee aches a bit


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Old Age Greets Winter

The year gets older storms streak the skies I am told age is a quality of the mind,
Do I sit indoors and watch the fog, the dirt, the rain and wind splash on my windows,
So I wonder around indoors in a depressing influence of a winter with its suffering,
Muttering to myself and to others that old age has made me leave my dreams behind me.

Standing by French windows, beaten by tempests, so I shuffle over to an evening fire,
The flowers have gone and longer grass stands among the thickets withered, bleached,
The fern red and shriveled amid the green gorse and broom, even my hope has gone cold,
Plants that waved white umbels to the summer breeze now a skeleton a trophy of death.

The brooks are brimful the rivers turbid covered with masses of foam hurrying along,
Words in my head whisper, if you no longer plan ahead, ambitions dead, you are old,
Our gardens, sad and damp and so desolate their floral splendors are naked and dead,
Decaying leaves have taken the place of verdure and all is gloom and all is silence.


Details | Narrative | |

The Fantastic Voyage

Living on the edge was a suicide way before my time!
A soul spread wide open with a spirit that truly believes.
Walking on water and backwards with life that glares over the sunshine!
The fantastic voyage rides the high and almighty waves of the greatest seas.
A voyage to never-never land right where I know I will always want to be.
True uninhibited expression is my addiction all within myself.
A soul climaxing in the exhibition of capturing all of the free empty space!
Walking the planks with the thrill of excitement from what’s consumed as it’s felt,
The fantastic voyage is aimed straight for that perfect little happy place.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to stay.
Unpredictable with such balance is my mystery out there all on its own.
My soul opens and wills me to explore the depths of all that is real or such.
Walking the tight rope and looking down with my talent so proudly shown.
The fantastic voyage is never enough but is always over by too much.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to feel what I touch.
Deep within the depths of all the deepness is where my connection is found.
A vibrant soul with brilliance magnified by a common need that has just got to give!
Walking narrow ledges with confidence and truly the one that has got to be proud!
The fantastic voyage gained my moments in time that I can say were actually lived.
My voyage to never-never land is where I will surrender standing on top of my deadly ground!


Details | Verse | |

Weight of Passage

fresh snowfall whispers morning
silent waking call memories incarnate
innocence of child play
now adult toil
weight of passage
toil adult now
play child of innocence
incarnate memories call waking silence
morning whispers snowfall fresh


Details | Rhyme | |

Past Royalty

Would you turn cities to kingdoms, if you could?
Your chariot before the fancy car, if you would?
The crown tumbling down, would you set it back up on your head?
Would you ever lie on linen with worries of tomorrow instead?

If the clock-hands run backwards, would you give chase?
If the golden sands of time glitter, would you stray in your historys maze?
The falling sceptre bringing disgrace, would you stoop to catch it prompt?
Or would you let it fall, fall on the lowly ground, while your dreams are stomped?

When the castle’s mighty bell, tolls with all its will,
Would you keep playing the game of thrones or would you stand still?
When the royal gardens have seen the last of gentle sparrows,
Would you still go back to the dry trees as the trunks narrow?

If the ghosts of christmas past, came back for you,
Would you let them stay and scare you anew?
Would you know the value of a moment when it comes,
Or would you wait for it to become the memory, till you succumb?

Your regalia — brightly shining, ensnaring you in its threads.
Would you curl up in its warm blades or would you fight till all your blood spreads?
Your subjects gather at your behest, would you lift them up this time?
Perhaps, you could deviate and just this once, play mime?

Now your royal procession begins, would you confront the crowd?
Or would you conceal your scarring face, for you are too proud?
But still this royal apologue, is yours to behold and comprehend,
So, tell me, love, would you? Lie on linen with worries of tomorrow instead?


Details | Blank verse | |

ON THE WAY TO THE BALLET

The old ladies march
onto the elevator, 
steadied by their
canes,
each a shrunken
frailty
wrapping an unending
soul: they are going
to watch young
people
dance dances of
grace
and beauty, while
they
recall their own
beauty,
long dissolved in
the
acid of time. Yet,
they
are happy-- I even
joke
with them as I lean
on
my own cane: "Come,
Ladies! Let's have a

foot race!" They all

laugh, as the young 
girls within their
tattered frames
flirt with the
potent
young man hiding
behind my time-
marked mask.
For a moment
we all feel a jolt
of that spark
we call life.


Details | Free verse | |

Mellita, domi adsum

A timeless classic upon reaching your castle                                                                      to choose the good and not the bad                                                                                  breaking away from the ice of the day                                                                              in search of a ray like sunshine how is your day                                                                 like the Shakespearean play terms of endearment                                                             testing the waters of one's abode                                                                                     will ducky be swimming or ice skating                                                                              a warm Embrace or on the brink of today                                                                         in any case show yourself friendly


Details | Verse | |

The Prestige of Portrait People Preserved in Paintings.

Pickled like gherkins in vinegar

Crystallised forever in sugar

Set and translucently Jellied ...

Hung like smoked, salted meat

Pigments crushed from earth
brushes from fine animal hair

Is it because they freeze
the sitter's image which

survived as the best image 
of the sitter for millineums?

Linseed oil Egg tempera hand
mixed by devoted apprentices

Were paintings used for 
communication to the viewer

Eyes moving behind the paintings..

before humans could read 
or write?

To capture the likeness prior
the invention of  photography?


Details | Free verse | |

A Matched Pair

I frown into the mirror.
What happened?
Yesterday, we were newlyweds.”

"Fifty  years ago," he says.
“You lost half a century.” 
There's my husband, slouching
in the recliner, thinning hair,
frayed collar, expanding stomach.

A slow smile spreads across my face.
I sidle over, plop into his lap,
and sling my arm around his neck.
"Remember Great Falls, fishing
in the Missouri River until sunset,
A & W root beer in frozen mugs?

“How about that May snowstorm 
in Yellowstone, or camping in Canada,
our sleeping bags zipped together as one? 
Or Holder Lake, Bird Woman Falls,
and fishing in a stream no wider
than this chair we’re sitting in?

“Remember our two parakeets,
perched above everything we owned
in that forty-nine Chevy coupe
on the trip home to Missouri? 
Or the car, stop-dead in Roundup,
Montana, leaving us stranded  
for three days, waiting for parts?

“”I remember that sexy redhead,” 
he says. “What happened to her?”

“Not sure, but I think she ran off
with a pot-bellied old man.” 


Details | Light Poetry | |

An Old Vintage Shotgun of Mine

A loaded pistol,
With youthful courage till yesteryear;
Now lies naked and dormant,
And Is found to be lifeless and dead.
Somewhere, buried in my Junkyard,
Playfully tested till now in all arms to shame;
As it shyly, blushes and whispers to admit,
Murmuring its helplessness into my ears.

Ooh! My Childhood friend,
It feels like an impotent;
To be so bullet-less today.
My Golden days have all ended,
Life has become so ignorant now;
As I've become so bullet-less today.

As the pendulum constantly oscillates,
Time has traded fast on twenty wheels;
Looking for some good fortune in distant lands.
And a store-room in my backyard,
Has always remained the same;
And is still kept unchanged.
But never was any eye caught,
Not even mine;
To drool upon the nozzle of that Gun;
Like the way I used to do,
Used to lovingly do before.

Strolling down my kindergarten alley,
When a Gun was gifted on a bright Christmas morning;
It used to amaze me in my childhood days,
As I so excitedly unwrapped and got it out;
From the mysterious and magical White socks,
Which was hung on my bed; Hung all night,
Waiting for a snowy white beard old man;
A laughing sage in an exception;
Who lived on the mystical hill-side view,
Of my Steel city.

Today, after so many years,
A long craved sight fell upon it;
And it instantly drove me back,
To flash my childhood nostalgic days.
When infant Army camps used to settle,
To battle in the air for all day long;
Under the densely old,
Never claimed tree by anybody - 'Our Mango Tree'.
Ooh! How then this pistol fakingly killed,
So many nappie buddies of mine.
Who played and just acted,
To be dead as my enemies.

Ooh..! How strangely it feels like,
A game of now.
When today the lil' me gazing at any topic,
Sitting in my backyard;
Stumbled and pondered to find, 
An old vintage Shot-gun of mine.
So curiously digging the wearily torn school bag,
Hanging since ages on the dampened wall.

Ooh..! So clueless, I fumbled upon,
An old vintage Shotgun of mine.
Dumped and buried under thousand other,
Essential antique toys of mine;
Which notoriously has got rotten in rust.
In closed walls of adolescence,
Where white parchments seeps overall;
From moist doors of yesterday,
Ooh..! How strangely it still feels like today.


Details | Free verse | |

start overs

another day...
i have walked
one
day at a time

now it is
another hour
i hear mommas'
old clock chime

i look at  me and say
'WHO is that?'
the image is silent
and just looks back

here is the deal....
i want start overs
can't i HAVE THAT?

again the image
just stares back

the answer is clear
even i can see that
start overs 
are fresh sold out

and my image  just
stares back


Details | Rhyme | |

Golden Age of Summer

Golden age of summer,
spent in a small
Iowa town where
I used to slumber.

So many summers ago
spending magic moments
with my old pal shep
at the old swimming hole.

Rexall drug store
will never forget such
a place to go for
a 25 cent malt and
so much more.

Where did you go
golden age of summer?
Dearly miss you so.

Sitting with grandmother
in the golden age of summer
on her front porch
talking with each other,

loved her so sincerely
as golden age of summer
left me with just memories
so has old grandma
who I loved so dearly.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Fabel Sixteen

 Fabel Sixteen 
PART ONE
Fabel Sixteen 
 
CharlaX Fables 
 
Famous Charles' 
 
Historic “Charles” 
 
WE now explore the the Charles of HIStory or HiSTORY LOLZX. 
The History of Charles County 
________________________________________ 
Where can you find great seafood, enough history to fill several books, top-flight 
golf, first-class fishing and acres and acres of some of the most beautiful forest 
land on the East Coast?? The answer can be found just eighteen miles south of 
Washington, DC, in Charles County, Maryland -- an area that has become a 
Mecca for heaters and anglers, and a magnet for history buffs and seafood-
lovers .ed.note. This is a love poem of some propulsion to see iff she is looking 
closely at the mee. 
Saint Charles Inn 
The Inn, formerly known as the St. Charles Hotel, was built in 1913 by Mr. and 
Mrs. Charles Barthle. It was widely known for its' hospitality to commuters on the 
Orange Belt Railroad, which came through San Antonio. Many visitors came and 
stayed for the winter season. Word soon spread about the family atmosphere 
and delicious meals prepared from their garden lover. She is so faithful and so 
blessed and gives my heart a rest she loves me best. 
          Charles Demuth (1883-1935) 

                     
"Deem" as some of his friends called him, was born in a Lancaster house on 
North Lime Street. At age 7, he and his family moved to the King Street home 
where he spent most of his lifetime. Demuth's health was frail; from an early age 
he suffered from lameness and as an adult from severe diabetes. He graduated 
from Franklin and Marshall Academy and studied at Drexel Institute and the 
Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelpia.P.A. Lover. She travels hard 
and she has to work too much she needs to rest. 
H