Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time
hearing the news before most of the World did
He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected
He had loves and passions from many places
deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
Not only did he love music and inspire all
He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul
The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened
It was John Denver's plane that went down
Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial
So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
always in loving memory
OH babe , do we hate you go ~
Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
"Leaving on a Jet Plane "
I do not know?
The Beach of Promises
Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,
strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.
Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,
walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.
Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,
lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,
my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,
wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.
I simply love being me
for I am so good at everything
step into my city and they
will tell you who is King
one day when I am hungry
I will swallow everything
then and only then shall I
inherit the stuff I dream
even then I promise
not to settle for satisfaction
at any instant half a second
I could spring into full action
so go against me? please,
you do not even measure
up to half of the goodness
that I hold tight like my treasure
still spreading rumors about me
to try and destroy my life
can't believe I let myself get beat by
a stripper and my self-intended knife
try and say I'm gay
even though we both know that isn't the truth
just ask any woman I been with
if they ever needed proof
they'll say I was the cream of the crop
as they took it all night knowing
I just may never stop
I own the status of a legend
now what you got left to say
when I bring it twenty-four seven?
A full moon night
to my delight
what is so wrong
with doing what's right
nothing is right
after so long
no use in complaining
time to move on
The Dream Water one day
might take me away
farther from the comfort
I float on my back
then shut my eyes
my body now sinking
into ocean arms open wide
Now swallow your son
back to his nature
when he is no longer
needed to stay here
the next generation
are dooming themselves
they need my experience
to guide them through hell
Why should I bother
on my own, I strive through
I turn my back on the thought
of bothering to save you
alone in this world
my, is it spacious
I'm finally smiling,
never so gracious.
She slips from the sleeping ice.
Green, fresh, free to flow
through the great fjord.
Past the blue mountains.
She glides smoothly
over the rocks with glee,
covering them with her cool touch.
Tall evergreens cheer her on.
Waving as she courses down her chosen path,
All the while never tiring!
Surging forward to join the others like her.
This vast journey ,
will not end till she reaches
The Great Shores.
Her journey is joyful.
Touching all on her banks,
leaving the gift of life in her wake.
Barefoot Dream ©
A pair of slippers dance along
the surf line, dank chill seeps into
Laughter and joy stream out
across the endless waves, a
day’s freedom from society’s
Stripped of sock and slip’r
toes clinch and let loose the
sandy floor as it shifts and moves
as in a dance, vanishing under
Dancing on the heads of
ancient warriors, lost sailors,
Foamy wet tickles the ankles,
grains rasp and scrape a
Cleansed in the salty froth, tiny
secreted bones ache with
Sodden cotton slaps the calves
A drenched, forever sound as
the grasp of death’s hand brings
down, down into the blue-black
arms of the cold sea
Butterflies and Bullets
Three lovers: by Trinity Chasara 14/3/14
I followed two bliss-drunk lovers
Down a country path
Through flitting shadow
The great void of silence
Soothing sweet waves of moonlight
Just to be close to the warmth
That did freely flow gently
Over gentle lips and flaming touches
Munificent creatures in the best entwine of desire
‘My beautiful lover,’ I heard him say
With voice tainted with faux of charm
And the hues of love did spread on her cheeks
Like the beauteous designs of butterflies
That in memory’s cathedral yawned litanies
Sprawled over random hypnotic motions
I looked and looked and drank the sight
Two blossoms warbling flatteringly
Over a dreamy delight
But like birds they did see the stranger
And flew away in flutter
Down the clustered weeds
Of a surreptitious quest
Show me who you are and i shall paint out broken columns on the valleys of her back as if such figure is un-common
i have found no beauty bending as the vines that are her hair and the frailty of man upon her back is what she bares
bleed her body for the harvest let them feast upon her soul for the nurishment of mother is leaps beyond so bold
she is like the flower growing in the deepest of dark forests,amongst the ivy and hemlock but her skin is much too porous
to concern herself with games that tantalize the men, as they marry on crusade it is her children that she tends
sheath your swords with her ambition and tip your arrows with her will, craft your armour from her strength and in the battle you will kill
come now children from the pasture and lay each upon her side, suckle gently at your mother although theirs pain she does not hide
though the water leaks from rooftops her leaves are thick and block the rain, as the water level rises cling to her branches with no shame
she is the stone upon the beach, once a mountain pound and breached
yet still her disposition clear to love her children that are near
inspired by Roots Frida Kahlo, 1907-1954
The water in my chest,
And my eyes, they burn,
Lungs burst for air,
They are losing all their turn.
My eyes see the light,
That swims in the water,
And as I sink,
My lungs burn hotter.
I try to breathe,
Yet only choke,
I scratch for the surface,
Pray that it be broke.
But I know that I,
Will soon touch sand,
But only beneath the waves,
I will never touch land.
So I close my eyes,
To be engulfed by the dark,
As as i slip away,
Shines bright, the mark.
The deeper I go,
My dress cling to me,
As I drown,
To the bottomless sea.
There is an island small near the airport and is connected
to a small bridge. In summers I used to take my dog there
for a swim… the dog liked to swim but not far and long,
just too cool off. Parking was no problem back then and
dogs were allowed. After swimming we walked to a café
I bought a litre bottle of water, cupped my hand so the dog
could drink too, I read a paper and the dog found a shade.
Drove back yesterday wanted to see if there had been any
changes, the beach was full of sunbeds, each one with
a parasol and it cost money by the hour. Those who didn´t
want to pay had a stony part of the beach they resembled
a flock of seals on a reef. It was all so organized and clean it
looked to me like a military encampment. No, nothing stays
the same, my dog is dead, has been so for a long time.