*The Dead Poet*
Many blocks along the road,
Kicking down walls of heavy stones,
Yet no one could draw through the walls of her lonely bones.
A poet who could not write what's inside.
Her pen had gone ink dry.
Her beady eyes lost the feel of an angelic realm.
She tried, until she could no longer cry!
A poet who stuttered with the mind and out came no words.
This poet hangs on a mount with a picture that tells a sad tale.
A poem that broke verses in a Carpe diem dream.
She ruffled her arms once more, as if she could fly.
Everything felt dead inside.
Trap in a mental state that clots the willing vein.
Isolating her form in a room with no door.
She strays this away from the feel of the marvel pen.
To never go back, and feel again.
In the most ominous way,
She lets out a cry,
A cry, never heard before.
Running from this evil, that stain her world.
Words buried deep and behind a new exterior box,
Her insides gasp all the air of airs once alive.
A talon drop into the next,
This troublesome poet gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but the empty space within.
She curls herself into a fetal world.
At last, she closes her eyes, to feel no more.
A poet who died the day, joy wiped the glee from her face.
"All Children Are Beautiful"
His heart of white deep, shallow wells, yet beautiful
He smirks a grin, with an ego that won't let me in' -he's beautiful
Bastard, of beauty, running ashes without a name
A face with no claim, a young man pounding from shame
What is his sin, he's beautiful!
I want to breathe from his ashes, swim through his veins
I want him to come inside my light, like a good dame
I sing and tell a tale, A Bastard through the night
His eyes, I waged, I was young and poor, I was saved
Lying down, in the arms of my white knight
My hair, he caressed, he came in my light
The furnace burned, the night was fast becoming trite
A lover, he did it well, then went back to his wife
A moment so golden, the ages live, his son is born
Another Bastard brought into this world
On the ground…..
Without a sound…..
As oceans sigh…..
The sun is
In her eyes…
The waters stretched their surrounding arms
Caressing her precious prints with their saline charms
Smoothing her past—an exhalation at last
As legacy lavishes the flight of her path
Withering and draining, absorbed in the sand
Are the tears she once shed—no longer does she stand
In kneeled acceptance her deep pulse unwinds
As her melodious voice falters in the plague that binds
In her serenest solitude have I kept her close
As those streams do crash upon my heart-burdened coast
I listened to her sing—as the sickness rose
Like the tide’s sudden descent, oh how life suddenly goes!
To bury her
In the ground……….
…..…..now has died……….
She doesn't believe in quiet love
wasn't born to bleed shyly,
couldn't care about the cost of conquest,
Too beautiful to be bitter, and too young to be cynical,
a cerebral seducer, a critical killer of caution,
too clever to be a casualty of competition,
the antithesis of a quiter
a warrior woman first,
the woman for whom I thirst,
When the battles are long
with the night swallowing safety
and your armor heavy
come to me with body ready,
be naked in my handsome hands
which grip your fatigued feet as if they are my clay of choosing,
sit into me in a bath of luxurious warmth, chamomile lavender calm,
Rebel Girl, happy and hugged with your back against my caring chest,
trusting my rubbing, loving my touching,
your lips moving in silent approval,
The war will return for us
testing our bruised wings of heart,
but tonight we defend this castle of loyal love
sheltered from storm and suffering -
As night draws near
Gleaming in the silence
And the brightness of the sun
The trees beside the river
Are dancing, every one
Upon this cooling evening breeze
I’m lost in all of this
As river does reflect the all
My heart is filled with bliss.
Ravens flying overhead
They fill the silent air
With throaty caws, of loneliness
Their songs fills everywhere
With the breath of evening mystery
To herald the dusk in
As day does fade to darkness
The evening song begins.
I’m lost within the sweetness of
The dusks sweet, silent song
I think that it be in this darkness
That my soul does belong.
Bird songs come, then fade away
To be lost within the stillness
As darkness comes to fill the air
With the sweetness of it’s breath
In the depths of sweet serenity
The spirits come to play
And all the nymphs and fairy folk
Do dance the night away
31 October 2013 @ 0514hrs.
Oh, what a feeling in me.
Oh, what a feeling in me
To be, on this wonderful day
I’m here on this beautiful morning
I’m alive in a beautiful way
I’m hearing these birds all around me
Just singing a love song for me
It’s a wonderful, beautiful morning
By this river that captivates me.
It be five o clock in the morning
In the joy of this beautiful day
The kookaburra how he be laughing
In such a magnificent way
I think that he knows I am happy
This bird he is laughing for me
Oh, here in this countryside morning
I am filled with such sweet mystery.
The river gets into my being
As I sit here alone in the dawn
It’s wonderful, beautiful feeling
I feel like I’m being reborn
Oh what a sweet combination
All this morning, and nature, and me
I’m in love on this wonderful morning
Just me and this sweet mystery.
26 January 2014 @ 1155hrs.
Sweet island girl now in Heaven
The angels separated you from me
You only lived to love and be loved
My one and only Annabel Lee
Death had no power to conquer
Bright eyes made darkness fade
In your sepulcher by the ocean
Until my death every night I laid
Surely now that I'm in Heaven
No more need to dream of you
For just around the next corner
My Annabel Lee will come in view
But the jealousy of winged seraphs
Was even higher in this place
Confronted by such perfect love
Made it impossible for us to face
But a deal was brokered in Heaven
The two of us sent back to Earth
As unknown strangers, separated
And both starting at our birth
In our life we must find each other
Fall in love again or we'd go to Hell
But if discovery and magic happened
Forever in Heaven with a story to tell
For many, many years I've wondered
Drawn to seek a girl by the sea
Is it possible tonight that I met you
Could you be my Annabel Lee?
*A sequel to Edger Allen Poe's "Annabel Lee" poem. I pray in style and substance I do not embarrass myself or this poet master!
Contest: Linda's "Never Entered Into A Contest #12"
Poet: Lyric Man
I love rain
It's a month now into spring
And still the rain pours down
Hey, is it ever going to end
There's many here that frown
They want the sunny weather
That will come soon enought
But right now, I'm enjoying it
Rain, I love the stuff.
Next week we're off on holiday
Now it really does rain there
And I'll love very bit of it
As it soaks up everywhere
To hear it's rhythm on the roof
It makes me feel so grand
Though many think that I am strange
They just don't understand
We don't get much rain in WA
So when it comes, for me
It makes me so excited
I guess it's how i be
So keep that rain a coming down
Let me feel it's soft, wet touch
I don't know what is wrong with me
But I love rain so much.
23 September 2013 @ 0624hrs
Walking by the river.
It was that kind of day
With the Spring Sun soft and warm
There was a kind of energy
That moved within my form
I could have walked the whole day long
As I felt me, natures pull
Oh Lord those river trails are beautiful.
I passed a group of roos
Who were grazing by the river
Some Parrots screeched above my head
And set my heart a quiver
And as those creatures gave their calls
A Kookaburra laughed
Oh how I love to walk that river path.
It was that kind of day
That you’d like to last for years
With the country air rich in my lungs
And my mind all calm and clear
I could have walked until I dropped
Along that river trail
Feeling good and living in the now.
16 September 2004
Fifteen tiny swallows
Fifteen tiny swallows
All perched upon a fence
Oh what handsome fellows
But here, let me commence
To speak of all their beauty
These tiny little birds
All black and cream with a reddish throat
Oh how my heart they stirred
A lady walking with her dog
Disturbed these little guys
So from the fence these birds take wing
And head towards the skies
It seems that they are dancing
In the way they fly around
They always seem to fly in circles
And nearly touch the ground.
I walk around these wetlands
And wonder at it all
Everyday it’s something else
And it’s all so beautiful
Ducks and swallows, parrots too
And the beauty of the lake
I love to walk there most of all
At the coming of the daybreak.
16 August 2013 @ 1510hrs.