The fog lies like a thick blanket over my city
It is gray, damp and heavy to breathe in
Grey and wet ..... gives me a headache
Morning turns to night, without any difference
I have to get the light and the sun back
Neither cat or dog will go out
I've heard about rain dance
Now I would like to take a sun dance
Will you join with me in my dance
A-L Andresen :)
I do not know?
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome.
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome.
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
My love for you will never fade
You locked the door; my bed I’ve made
A face in the crowd reminds me: so you
The smile at tilt; the voice that lilt
The auburn hair; the skin so fair
My tender heart skips a beat: Hallelujah
Your eyes held mine, a magic spell
The pain I felt was a pleasing hell
No one could e'ver compare to you
You touched my face with your hand
The time all round came to a stand
From my soul I moaned: Hallelujah
Love’s tender touch now in the past
Around I’d see: Nothing e'er last
The things I did could’ve blew’ you
The cars I drove at such high speed
The fast life our friends would lead
We did not understand the Hallelujah
I tempted you with a bit of *snow
You didn’t at first want to know
If y' didn’t know how I’d show you
The surreal dream showed on your face
Everything moved at a faster pace
You shouted my name: Hallelujah!
You pulled away then from me
I was begging for you please to see
What this was doing to us; to you
All that mattered was the crave
Your life given over to a rave
You’ve shut me out in this Hallelujah
Your beauty faded before my eyes
The pain you caused with all your lies
I couldn’t bear to see what we did to you
Your dreams had fallen and paranoid
The reality, now null and void
A syringe, your only Hallelujah
On our true love I will always dine
To’ve turned back to another time
To happy times I loved and knew you
For bringing you into this ruin
Sorry! This was all my doin’
For me there will be no more Hallelujah.
NO MORE HALLELUJAH, © 17 January 2013 Suzette Crous
*snow: slang for cocaine
Inspired by the song HALLELUJAH copyright © Leonard Cohen
"You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah"
>b>Sung by ALEXANDRA BURKE (If this does not move you, check your pulse...): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSgsW9GLerA (X Factor winner) and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQpod0tKOfE (at the Royal Albert Hall, London)
For those who can play guitar: "Hallelujah chords best version":- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jN6qD45gtA
For Frank H's Contest: Hallelujah
17 January 2012
She wakes from a dream, dripping with tears of sweat pouring down her face. Her long blonde hair is pasted to her forehead as she sits up in her bed. The clock reads 3:03am. Her heart is pounding rhythmically to the ticking of her wrist watch. Her long legs that are wrapped in her white down comforter are extremely cold, and she realizes that a harsh draft is seeping through the window sill beside her bed. As she pulls back the curtains to check the window for cracks in the ledge, her eyes grow wide with amazement. The street lights reveal swirls of frosted confetti which overwhelm the pitch blackness of the night. It has not snowed this hard since she was a little girl and suddenly the terror of her dream dissipates. She jumps out of bed, slips on her purple fuzzy slippers, along with her matching robe and runs down the stairs.
The stars glisten
Icicles hang still
Her front door swings open from the harsh embrace of the wind and she manages to drift on to her porch. Her foot prints smear the freshly painted deck but they are quickly filled up again by the urgency of heavens winter release. Her eyes begin to spill like water falls and her rosy face along with the rest of her body goes numb. However, the arctic chill was worth it to her. The last time she had seen her father was on a night like this. He loved the snow and every part of its splendor reminded her of him. The howling in the air, the cold that cut through her pajama pants like a knife, the snowflakes the size of marshmallows and the cars that look like giant igloos. Even the smell of the wood burning across the street in her neighbor’s fireplace all made her feel like her father was near. It was like heaven had stopped by to visit her this night.
By: Sabina Nicole
A new day, a new dawn
Last year is gone
A new hope, a new cheer
This year is here
The beginning of a new year
A time for new starts
The beginning of a new year
The hope of many hearts
When the clock strikes midnight
The whole world goes alight
When the clock strikes midnight
Our spirits take flight
With the hope of a new day , a new dawn
Because Last year is gone
But isn’t it a little strange
That we think this way
Because today is
just the same
As any another day
Every day has a midnight
Every day has new light
Every day has a dawn
And every yesterday is gone
Every day can be a new start
And every day we can have hope in our hearts
So this year live every day with a resolution
To make your life a glowing contribution
To your family, your friends and to your world
So that when the hope of new years is gone
Every day will be a new day
Every day will have a new dawn
And every yesterday will be gone
Never be it said that new beginnings can’t be obtained
The endless quest for happiness and futures ordained
Surely worn us all down – books scoured for inspiration
Folk Lore/Yarns embraced for our life’s path preparation
Memory, an eager companion to chastise us and torment
Time we’ve been allotted, wasted on slights to ferment
Looking to bring some relief to others in their dire need
This is what brings joy to souls rich in the art of forgiving
Looking in the mirror, inwardly: What do we see and striving
To portray to an outside world? In ignorance, we aim to please
Others are equally busy with their lives; sense of a new lease
On Life. Each calendar marking public festive holidays to celebrate
Thus, in effect wishing our time away, wasted on endless freight
Of regrets; only to be put aside briefly during this Holy Season
SUMMERY: A message within a message (two unrhymed lines), therefore My New Year's Wishes:
1. Looking to bring some relief to others in their dire need
2. Of regrets; only to be put aside briefly during this Holy Season
BTW: Ethiopia, Russia, Ukraine, Serbia, the Republic of Macedonia, and the Republic of Moldova celebrate Christmas on what in the Gregorian calendar is January 7
Please see the About section regarding this form of an Acrostic poem.
From my porch
Wrap up with extreme-cold weather clothing
The January sun bathes weakly through the early morning grounds
I seek alone by such astonished far-fat mountain-side
When some dared rabbits at burrow doorway gazing
Like a thief at the overheated clouds!
Life over the moon at last has waned,
A drab and dull scene from great merriment and fun
Nothing now remains but ashes of yester-dreams
Strewn over the moribund ambience of jollities
Hard dry wind has taken sway over the plane
And making blitz over bare faces worn with zest.
The morning grey with chill air piercing deep
Into lonely quivering bodies once more abandoned.
Garbage brimful of remnants of yesterday’s abundance;
As stores and coffers now in state of dearth
As the road ahead narrows shrouded by mist
And fraught expectations on white emaciating faces.
Upon every heart and stem a somber skeleton
That has shed their outer brimful layers.
The sphere again begins new cyclic processes;
All hands again go to plough, upon dead branches a bud.
Born January 31, 1953 – Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson – Died January 30, 2048
HeRe, tell the truth,
liEs The Right Reverend Hudson
reBorn almost a century ago –
thE time was winter,
suCh long, long hours
baCk in cold, cold days
SaFety was unim-
poRtant for women
whO were married –
noNe spoke of
By God! This woman
refUsed to let that
get In the way of
her Living –
she Excelled at life
she Understood her birth
diD not define or restrict
her Self, her choices, her
lOve, her presence, or her death – she
kNew, with certainty: only truth is true!
Nota Bene – January 30, 2048 is the 100th anniversary of Gandhi’s assassination
We Thank All That Is Good She Was Here!
Her eyes amused me, slices of January that held April tightly....
she could rain in snow, drop from upside-down skies, and we held tightly to the tears that
only appeared on the opposite side of closet doors as we marked our claim on unusual with
hand prints that never saw the sun.
Two days could have passed underneath us before we blinked, my windows whispered glorious
promises but we kept them closed for safety, for the opposition of who we could be, and
she knew the secret of every season, she knew how to laugh when bedroom doors...
I drew her behind the mirror and we created October across December stars, we became
disobedient underneath the glorious names we sang that night for lips speak magic when
they pretend to lie and dishonesty was but a kiss away from sunrise.
Time stung me come August, come March, come the age of thirty-two, her eyes had been shut
for years now and she sunk beneath flowers I am positive would be beautiful enough to
photograph had I the courage to glance, but my feet have never crossed the grass that
blankets her and roots her promises...
tangled beneath tomorrow with a tight grasp on yesterday, and I wonder if the days have
yet to fade the color of her hair.
It rained in January when I existed miles away, teardrops of memories that fell as softly
as the whispers of her name, I closed the bedroom door tightly and listened intensely for
the echoes of dishonesty, for she remained there, somewhere, behind mirrors that painted
her and the lies that bit my tongue, that reassured me...
our hand prints would hide from summer...
covered in ice-cream secrets that screamed her pain from a smile, from a foolish wish that
spoke us inseparable.
Her eyes, blue as October, slapped me, that day, as they painted themselves the secrets
girls are never supposed to witness, as they refused to allow April to fall but declared
with the beauty that she
could never see.
I do not know?
The Sound of Distant Ankle Bells
Memories of those delicate tinkling bells,
casually fastened around calloused feet,
take hold of my waking moments,
and fling my thoughts back to a distant time,
where folk-songs were heartily sung,
joyful, yet hopelessly out of rhyme.
I barely saw her, a construction labourer perhaps,
hauling bricks, cement, anything, on a scorching Delhi day,
while in the semi-shade of a Gulmohar tree, her infant silently lay.
A cacophony of thoughts such as these swirl around,
yanking me away from the now, to my cow-dung littered childhood playground.
Now, a lifetime of displacement has hushed the jangling chorus of the past,
to a faint trickle of sounds, as distant as an ocean heard inside tiny sea-shells,
I know, that the orchestral nostalgic crescendo, rises, dips, and swells,
as tantalisingly near, yet a world of time away, as were the tinkling of her ankle-bells.
I think about this past year... It “came and went…”
I wonder that kind of life have I really spent?
It almost seems like yesterday
that I was a young man…
“I had the world in the palm of my hand.”
I had many goals, ambitions and dreams.
I wanted to enjoy life and do so many things.
Looking back on time and how quickly it’s gone by.
I gaze up into the beauty of the stars in the sky.
As I get older and think about another “resolution.”
I find myself with another problem with no “solution.”
I think about a God... Who made all of this a possibility!
He’s offered to me love, hope and tranquility!
I’m going to make a new commitment this January 1st.
No matter if things get better… Or things get worse…
I’m going to give my life and family to God above.
And ask him to bless our home with his mercy and love.
I’m going to try to live for him the best way I know.
And seek his blessings wherever I may go!
I’m going to give to God a love and strong commitment.
It’s only in him where I’ll find true fulfillment!
There’s an important fact, I shall always remember…
God is with me from January thru December!
He will be there to guide each step that is taken!
With him in my life… I’m never alone or forsaken!
By Jim Pemberton
Pass me another red...