Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Metaphor Time Poems | Metaphor Poems About Time

These Metaphor Time poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Time. These are the best examples of Metaphor Time poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

I see myself in her

                                                                                                             -For Melissa

She asked me how long does it take to heal
In what time allotment, exactly, will it take
For forgetfulness to become a reoccurrence
A blessing for the haunted
Memories that can be bleached off 
White sundresses put on in order to frolic
On beaches with waves washing away
Each grain of him
How long did it take for you to get over him?
Days? Weeks? A month or two?
Hope shining like a naïve flashlight during the eclipse of hardest times
Beaming on me, waiting for an answer

How could I tell her, honestly, 
That it took me years
To overlook the smallest details of his smile
How he only has one dimple on the right side of his face
The way his hands felt, every line and crevice of his fate
Thought to fit mine perfectly?

How could I tell her, truthfully
That no matter how many times I washed my sheets
I would catch the scent of him at 3:45 am, sometimes
Or hear his faint tapping on my window
When it’s really just, my imagination
That she’ll spend months waiting for him to text her
Call her, email her, think of her
When really he’s lying in bed with another women but she refuses
To believe that it’s over
Or how my heart still aches, just a little
When I hear he asked about me
Or that he can no longer say my name out loud to our mutual friends

Could I muster up the courage to explain to her
That it took me 2 years, 3 months, and 16 days to realize
The ugliness of being pathetic
It was time to rise up and take the lead 
Time to forget all romantic casualties 
It’s only yesterday that I found myself straining to remember
His faults, forgetting the man and only remembering the hero
How could I break her heart for the second time by telling her
The truth?

She stood there patiently waiting for me
To pull a metaphor out of a hat, something poetic
Comforting, beautiful, reassuring
I see myself in her
Wanting people to lie to us to see the Zen in ourselves

It’s like we’re all in the same play with the same roles but different names
It takes time for each actor to fulfill the destiny
Others emphasize while others downplay
Moments in time


Details | Free verse | |

PERCEPTION

   PERCEPTION

Before the abyss, I had it all
Letting go of all I see
My friend, I hope our time won't end
It took a short time for you to notice 
Without knowing who I am 
We talked, we became friends

Connecting the dots, missing every line
Connect them and figure me out
Randomly it comes your way
Underneath a never known chemistry
Ask me to stay and I may
Grinding your teeth into my way
Cut out my eyes, and store them up
A tongueless mouth, nothing to say

Maybe by tomorrow you will forget
Losing myself in my own conversation
Hiding behind my one big regret
Don't know, Don't care
You had me open up
A book I closed, knowledge lost

No need to see 
A mystery called deception
What I am cannot be seen with the naked eye
Along came you using your *ucked* up perception
The ability you miss use
making sense of this connection
A process you carry with your own  patterns
You asked, you listened,  without making assumptions
A taste to take off my shoulders, 
To release an error locked in my Asylum
I myself am enjoying the insights about him
He's got me convince, using his perception
               
  :)
SKAT


Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
 
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
 
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
 
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
 
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Wrestling Verses


Wrestling Verses


Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,

fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,

remain,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.


Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,

scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.


My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,

your skin,
your bare back my canvas,

my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.


Wrestling verses,

lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,

still,

my fingers tickle your soft skin,

my ink would run dry,

were it not for your gentle touch


Details | Rhyme | |

Beginnings and Ends

What is midnight than the hour between
Night and day, seen and unseen?
Sixty whole minutes that drag or fly by
Given importance—my question is: Why?
What is the difference ‘tween midnight and one?
An hour, that’s all? Another day done?
But of course not. It’s simple, you see.
Midnight is end, close, finale.
Midnight is time to look back at the day,
To reflect, to ponder, to be able to say,
“I’ve done it. I’ve made it. I have survived.
One more day down, and I’m still alive.”
Mull over the contents in your quieting mind
The contents of yesterday, what now is behind.
But midnight so dismal? This cannot be.
But of course not. It’s simple, you see.
Midnight is start, the source, the outset
Of a chance to make memories you’ll never forget.
The smiles, the laughter, the time spent with friends.
Midnights are beginnings as well as the ends.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Flower

As the time passes by season to season. I wait and wonder if this flower will ever grow. Planted so
many  times what seemed to be the right place , but once again it was not right at all. Struggling to
blossom so it can show  its color and beauty to the one that matters most of all. Thirsting for the warmth 
of the sun , starving for the attention , not really asking for much at all. So many times it felt so right , 
but things would change so quickly in the middle of the night and all would be lost. Slowly it would wither 
till there was no hope of blossoming one day. As the time passes by tears fill my eyes and there is nothing 
left to say. I only know that this flower will grow , but not this way. It must  be cared for and understood , 
loved and nourished so it will blossom and grow stronger , more beautiful then any flower you've ever known.
Will this flower ever grow? This is something I do not know. Sad as it may seem, it's even sadder to me , That I 
am that flower that will never grow , didn't you know ?

TC
 


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Rhyme | |

Dualized Timestream

Beginning and end - interconnected -
All of time has been dissected.
Going forward, sliding back;
Ebb within this ageless crack.
Can't decide, can't cast the die;
Lost in fog, I wonder why...
Looking back, a replication;
Continual symmetrication.
The 4th dimension, this division,
Created lacking double vision.

This present that I've created,
Ultimately desecrated.
I must end what's suffered before
And break this cycle forevermore.


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013


Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Personification | |

Treasure of My Heart

Yamaha impressed me the first time I laid eyes on her glistening blond maple wood, her stylish body details, her long fretted mother-of-pearl inlay; lobed with golden keys. Her voice called to me the first time I held her in my arms. I strummed her six strings slowly in the key of G, then moved softly to D and C. All the while, I searched earnestly for her purity in sound quality and style. She was not the most beautiful in the showroom. But oh yes! She did flatter me with her musical presence. She was beautiful to me! I knew from that moment on she would be mine for eternity. 

Within the hour, I took her home to meet the family. She was shy on the journey, not making a sound; perhaps due to this being her first automobile ride or simply wanting to see a world she was now a part of. Yamaha was cased in alligator leather, a brown dressing which was stylish for the day. We were both nervous as we arrived and got out of the car. My strong caressing grip on her handle assured her she wouldn’t fall and it would be alright. She knew it would be alright as I smiled at her. 

I opened the door, allowing her to enter first. When in the living room, I called to everyone to come meet the newest member of the family. Dad was taken by her simple yet elegant beauty and style. Mom touched her first and she was most pleased. At that moment I realized the importance of first impressions as Mom marveled at how pretty she was. I sat down in the best chair in the living room while Mom listed to Yamaha talk and I sang a popular country love song.  I was pleased with the family acquaintance to Yamaha. It was evident she had become a part of the family.

 The first few weeks, I couldn’t keep Yamaha out of my arms. I longed to be with her every minute of the day. In my eye, she made me smile by just gazing upon her. I fumbled with her in those beginning days. She ignored my elementary attempts at refinery and permitted me the time to catch up to her mastery rather than bow down to my level. Like any two lovers, both must reach to the need of the other. Only then is love truly in harmony. 

Today, Yamaha is not the young glistening blond I held in my arms some thirty years removed. Her wood has been scared by my love to play her. She has received countless face lifts which cover her tainted mother-of-pearl. Her brown leather case dress stands in need of a seamstress care. But as with all things having been learned through love, we now make beautiful music together. She is my treasure, a light into my soul's well. She amplifies my inner being. As I perform, she is glorified. We have grown old together,and gotten better in time. I still hold her in my arms day by day as this lover has risen to her grace and expectations. She is my treasure for a life time.


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 | Blank verse | |

Sea And Space

I see outer space
As the place
To retrace the roots
Of the human race.

I see under the sea
Is where our bodily
Cells first came to be.

Man's heart is in the stars,
Holding onto the dream to reach Mars.
Man's history,
Written in the stars as destiny.

I am but a child,
Born onto this planet turned wild.
I am but a soul
Sent here to alleviate the toll.

I see a sea of stars,
A healing ocean for our scars.
I see an empty crater
As void as our love for our Creator.

Man's fate has
Always been to create.
Man's destiny is to face
The sailing of the vastness of sea and space.


Details | Narrative | |

The Forest

A woodland path stippled with sun, hushed and quiet -
but the path I found myself on was a dark and dangerous one.
I'd been blackberrying - bramble-scratched, branch-slapped -
snapping from barbs berries fat as leeches
seeping blood-juices on my fingers.
Wood anemones opened pale hands to reach for me,
their fragrant star faces enticed me.
They beckoned, pulling me further and further away
from the world I knew and deeper into the wood.

The forest closed around me, trapping me
in a tangle of twining paths and trembling trees,
the ground layered with brown and golden leaves. 
Treetops cackled with the black caws of crows,
bushes bled red berries, grasses lashed my legs.
And every time the footpath forked
I went deeper, I went darker.
Tick-tock time slowed to a crawl,
watch hands wound backwards.

The whispering wood grew dimmer;
what little light there was struck trees and disappeared.
Fly agaric mushroomed into blood-raw open sores,
ivy ropes dangled nooses from branches.
Crying was useless, my panic-forced tears were hopeless.
Moles mouldered, luminous with maggots,
rabbits rotted, their throats ripped out.
Sky turned ink-dark, lonely wood-wild nights engulfed me.

With time, thoughts of home began to fade,
the seething forest seemed friendlier;
trees were a tease of teal and green,
rippling with strange and teeming life.
Amber algae scorched sunsets on umber bark,
wood sorrel crept, beetles burrowed, lichens came alive.
The forest floor was feathered with ferns
and plush with sponge-soft moss.
Now and again I caught the briefest glimpse of blue,
cool and welcome as water,
and once or twice, through distant trees, I spotted
what I took to be the twinkling lights of a town,
but it was only rainbow flickers glinting on leaves.

I've been gone too long, I'm too far gone.
Faint memories of home still siren-sing to me,
but just when I think I've found the right track
the forest tightens its grip, drawing me back.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Rainbow

Running through the universe,
Looking for the light,
I found a broken rainbow,
Crying in the night.

I tried to glue it back again,
Fix it's bleeding heart,
But the circle had been broken,
Before it's song could start.

The push and pull of meaning,
Are tugging at my sleeve,
The million colours dancing,
In the cloth the weaver weaves.

Are burning in the darkness,
Burning in the night,
As the rainbow goes on crying,
Sinking out of sight.

And now I'm crying loneliness,
Crying on my knees,
The butterflies of emptiness,
Are dancing in the breeze.

Running through the universe,
Looking for your face,
I come back to the start again,
To find my  tail I chase.

I know I've found my destiny,
I know that it is true,
The beginning and the end of it,
Is where we'll all meet you.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Sonnet | |

Lonely sky

I look to the skies hoping to see a sign
A sign of a stars shining like diamonds
I toss the thoughts of you to the heap of stars
All the happiness dressed with flowers
I took time to remember you singing
A voice so sweet it turned roses yellow
I yelled to the gloomy mountains for you
And light shone like twilight in heaven
Through demons and angels my plea recognized
And I finally feast on your beauty like a vulture
Thou thoughts mingle in space and time
I remembered your dancing eyes with adventure
So keen to let the desires leave the dust
I saw you in the sky strolling like a queen towards eternity


Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!


Details | Rhyme | |

the love we had seemed so far away

i look to stars and wishes flew through space never to be heard again
fun to friends hearts do meld and break facing until time ends
this loop that plays and beats that syncopate become but a gem
pleasure a chest opened in surprise feeling no need to defend
galaxies away lonely planets  please keep me in mind
 distance could grow something fond or lost between the lines
gps my love you can see  its still where I  left it behind
thoughts fade away with life love lives forever in my rhyme

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

without air i couldnt breathe squeezed until I'm passing by
no water flow my skin would dry and I return to the sky
sunny days would blacken out, attracting need for desperate lies
to make up for the beauty lost from death slowly closing my eyes
that fire once sparking motion snuffed in huffs slipping away
dwifting I sway shaky grounds where once I sat easily and stay
upon my feet I still float drowning out all thoughts that stray
Tho these ends can come swift its worse to miss and hear you say

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

down the road,flying free, I ride the wave and hope for your return
through several seas and cloudy peaks, storms of sand, I will not turn
helpless to fate and future events, nothing prevents something to learn
  sights may not sore, nothing much looking more, isn't my concern
I hope the best and happyness is true to bless you, not just in dreams
we can meet when we sleep discussing life while sleeping seems
thanks for trying Im not exactly dying, banes of  sentient beings
real enough moving on is rough, i'll love you forever, writting my means


Details | Sonnet | |

ZOMBIE DAWNING

-- James Ph. Kotsybar

The zombies are coming; no one knows why –
no time to ponder such things anyhow.
Apocalypse gives us no time to cry.
Survival is all we can think of now.

They hunt for us in slow, relentless mobs
and push past all our barricades by force.
We stifle our screams and swallow our sobs
to realize we are just their food source.

There may exist a ruling, safe elite –
the privileged who caused our current woes
and watch us as we’re torn apart like meat –
but likely they’re no better off.  Who knows?

For us, they won’t sweep in to save the day.
To them, we never mattered anyway.


Details | Free verse | |

Cookies-Food For Thought

Cookies -
Why can’t I have the chocolate one
I want more
She took my cookie
Hers is bigger than mine
I want to trade
That’s not fair

Cookies +
Thank you for the cookie
I love you
Thanks for all you do for me
I am satisfied
This is good
I am loved
Written By  Deborah Finneran :)  2013


Details | Haiku | |

roots

Ruth by the window;

eating an  yogurt...

it's hurts the road of memory.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.


Details | Senryu | |

Timeless

Timeless
suspended in time, hourglass broken and forlorn - past, present, future


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?


Details | Free verse | |

Who am I

Who am I?
Time will not answer,
Nor, other.
Perhaps my existence,
Does not exist.
Who am I?
The reverse side of the world.
Manufacturing production of God
Or a cosmic joke?
What will become of me
When crossing the bridge?
Doubts are like wires,
That twist in the soul.
There is no end, no beginning.
Yes, there is a tangle,
Which we call life.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Word Dynamic by Weston Gregory

The strength is often of things                                                                    
that's spoken
and word sound renews our hope.
There are direct relation to 
paths that's taken 
when we all heed what's discuss.

So, open your mind to a cosmic 
connection,
communicating and being determine
there is where you will always endear 
unique qualities of your yearning,
Transmitting symbiotically while                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              
helping other to find there footing.

What hasn't, isn't necessary never to be.
What dwell on us most though,
are the regrets of our past; misdeeds.
Where opportunity floss and love lost
find us grieving our doubted abilities,
but, natural gifts not sparing hits 
hold the place of not just an optimist;
in its rebirth a phoenix is more dynamic...


Details | Verse | |

Time Falls

Time falls, a silent prey
When calls your love to play

Eileen Manassian
For Nette's Onclaud's Essence Contest
October 12, 2014


Details | Epic | |

Simply being

Simply being
Nothing more than 
Than it is gone out of hand
No winds to flow to grow in land
Given bright stars in darkness

Nothing more than  
Light years rose hope
Back flush riddles in game
Only hope once to face to face

As seen bleeding in tears


Details | Verse | |

Waterfalls

Headwaters,
Of the world’s flowing souls,
Cresting to flight and misting rainbows.

Everyone.
Searching for another.
To endure sacrifices behold,

Cascading
Heart’s ladles dip into
Basins of memories in plunge pools.

Waterfalls,
From the rapids of youth,
To the flat waters of golden years


----------------------------------------------
Entrant: Rob Carmack
Contest: Some Form of Crystalline
Form: Verse : Parallelogram de Crystalline
11.02.14


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.


The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Canvas of Night


The Canvas of Night


Stars like sprinkled sugar,
lay strewn across the canvas of night,


enthralled by the wonder of the cosmos,
my dreams take to the heavens in effervescent flight,


I bathe in the beauty, soaked in sublime delight,
absorbed in moments of bliss, transfixed by the serene sight.




Stars like sprinkled sugar,
lay strewn across the canvas of night,


and my being is infused with feelings of hope,


for even in darkness  I find the sprinkled sugar of hope's light.




note: special thanks to one of my heroes, the late Dr. Carl Sagan, for making science accessible to younger me, many, many moons ago.





Details | Sonnet | |

On A Calm Summer Night

On a Calm Summer Night

I have walked upon a starry, darkness on a calm summer night
Have followed your fine foot-prints you have left on the sands of time
I told not a soul about my lonely search
In the darkness of the sky which kept my silhouette well hidden
Underneath the flaunting wings of thus nocturnal clouds.

You then came back as I left the darkness into the mist
I left just like a cloud which easily disappears as a thin air
Unknown to all you found one-blue feather on my doorstep
Amidst a tiny of dried petals within a red-red flower,
Amidst a tiny of dried petals within a red-red flower.

I have followed your fine foot-prints you have left on the sands of time
I have walked upon a starry, darkness on a calm summer night;
I have followed your fine foot-prints you have left on the sands of time
I have walked upon a starry, darkness on a calm summer night.

Written: Nov. 22, 2014
Eve T. M. Carter


Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/


Details | Verse | |

I'm sorry

I'm sorry for you, for all I DID mean to.
I'm sorry for truth yelling under the letters.
I'm sorry for gloom I used to be into.
I'm sorry for words that were ment to be better.

I'm sure you'll learn how to be optimistic,
and all of your sorrow will burst in a firework.
I'm sure you'll taste both the carrot and broomstick,
and critic with sarcasm will become a fair quirk.

I'm sure you'll manage to blow off the ceilings,
to do something wierd, worth to be accused of.
I hope that you'll learn to sort out the feelings
and born the new tenet out of the used stuff.

I want you to find something to govern.
I wish you object every slightest assurance.
I warn you to leave any secret uncovered
so it won't appear as nightmare to you once.

Be careful with matches, refuel the gaslight, 
extinguish the candle, let the night to mourn.
I'd say, single point to fear the Last fight:
to set Life aside until you'll have to moor.

8.04.2013
NikA


Details | Lyric | |

Drifting Mainly

You belong to me mate 	 ( Intro )
And that be that!
Get on board
And grab your hat!

The ship was aghast at its new passenger	( Verse )
Like disdain for the lives that they now left behind,
Newcomers were scarce 
And they never would last
But I held up my chin nice and high.


The bloke who took me screamed	( Pre-chorus )
“Mop up the deck we’ve got things to do!” 
But I said sir, 
I’m just a boy and don’t know what’s to do.

And he said		( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shores
Taking what’s mine 
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”

Taking the seas for more than eight moons
We found islands and loot
That was bigger than most.
The taste of sea air 
With its wind in my hair
Took me away to this new life I lead.

After mopping the deck 
He grabbed my hand and screamed
 “Steer this ship boy!”
But I said sir,
I’m just a lad and don’t know where to go.

So the crew yelled	( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shore
Taking what’s mine 
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”

Surprising to me 
Was my unshaven face
The captain looked on 
And smiled with grace,
We stopped at a place 
Where the women were loose and didn’t mind
If we took a peak.

He said “Now you’re a man so let’s get on that boat,
We got places to be and some people to rope,
So grab that sword and drop that mop
Cause you’re no longer a boy in my eyes.”

I practiced the duel with the men in the crew
The captain took eye to my devilish pride,
And he took me aside and said 
 “Even in death I’m gonna miss you boy 
But don’t let it strike you 
Or kill your spirits
Cause even time can beat out the Grim.”

Then in the darkness came fire and screams,
Our vessel had stopped after fourteen years,
The crew fought hard and beat most of the men
But now, my Captain was dead.

We took the new ship watching ours sink deep
Saying goodbye to our drowning escape,
The crew turned towards me and asked
“What do we do?” and I smiled,
And they did to.

And we yelled    ( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shores
Takin what’s mine
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”


Details | Quatrain | |

Aging Heart

Time runs fast when we are young,
As fast as human eyes can blink.
Turn away and there it goes,
What youth we have will slowly sink.

It runs with legs that won’t tire
So that your aging heart may sleep.
Close your eyes and let it fall,
The fruits you’ve reaped are yours to keep.

Does the river dry when you
Have passed the rapids of this ride?
Open your eyes so you may see
The world you’re bound to on this tide.


Details | Free verse | |

There Is No Now

The pollution is psychedelic
Hell, you could even say poetic nature
Terms of enragement
Definitely not engagement
Can suffice in describing the depredation

Fire from the skies
Burning through the system
Dropping through to nothing
Learning not what’s in them
Always running from them

We may hide our voices
But you hide your souls
Torturing us with woes
Never able to feed our hole
Scars bleed out like coals

Paint it any color you like
Doesn’t change a thing
This war that you’ve brought forth 
Has killed us all
In the past and future

There is no now…


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 | Kyrielle | |

So many candles to see the light

Like joyous green of summer, my heart is singing filled
With you, while winter`s white is witness of good willed;
The glass works and the hot red wine spreading light:
Comforting carols “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”. 

Comforting thoughts of good like good miners,
And cakes a lot with names of saints and sinners
Looking the heart of sweet cherries strudel under the sight

Of mother humming “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”.

Smoldering embers and feeling like hot chocolate 
With scent of incense offered to every Christian mate
Under the new temptation of good and hope of right
 
Teaching of church on “Silent Night”,under “Brad Frumos”

The sacrifice of the pig, a ritual Symphony in red,
At the other side of modal logic, with wine and bread
And slaughtered pig and soured soups that might  
                                                               
Be prepared and savored on "Silent Night" ,near “Brad Frumos”


The aromatic smoke ascending, and dancing heavenly
Like our attempt to preserve and conserve not only
The clay and flash creature but also the inner light 

And so many candles to see the Light on “Silent Night”...


Details | Rhyme | |

heart, mind, and soul

father time in my chest
keeper of its own pace
just skin and bone depth
influences time and space
what are we but drifters
 in an unknown

see truth in a literal
belief before my face
stars with no funeral
light will win the race
here i am, not for long
death starts at home

where is this leading?
which story could it be?
despite all my reading
writings the cup of tea
i dont need to know it all
as long as im not alone



Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Dessert in the Deserted Desert

Boiling, baking and blazing,
               Other synonyms for heat.
My camel is happily dazing,
	He was not a restful seat.
Poolside I’ll later be lazing,
	Resting my sunburnt feet.
Air conditioning is amazing,
               Ice cream is a lovely treat.


Details | I do not know? | |

Love Endures

Love floats by,


reaching,
tantalising,
meandering,


tip-toeing past pain,


leaping through walls,
weakening the barricades,


of the most private heart.



Love settles in,


trusting,
searching,
dissolving,


quietly beyond anguish,


erasing the desolation,
soothing a battered spirit,
enveloping the shivering soul.



Love stays, it is true,


love endures, as do you






Details | Couplet | |

Reading Beyond the Obvious

I read the same poem for several days
I kept seeing it in different ways

Even though the words they never changed
Somehow my thoughts became rearranged

The first time reading, it made me smile
My thoughts were confused after a while

Second time I searched for new meaning
Like a farmer in a field gleaning

I was confused, by her metaphor 
She used a gate instead of a door

The third day I thought I'd try again
Her words, were saturated in pain

On the fourth day things became intense
Why did it take, so long to make sense?

Words may seem simple at a first glance
With re-reading they can start to dance

Each mood I have, helps me to see more
Subtle differences in metaphor 




Details | Free verse | |

Winter Winds

Winter winds blow all around. 
I’m astonished by the sounds of Jingle Bells and reindeer stomps. 
All of this should never stop. 
Snow lies on the ground, if only that weren't too profound. 
Time only leads to decay, but not on Christmas, not today. 
You should see the angels pray. 
Toy trains, and rag dolls are the things kids used to want. 
But time has changed, yes so have children… 
Santa seems as if a villain. 
So much fighting, so much crying, it sounds as if the kids are dying. 
“I want money, I want fame, and these toys are just so lame.” 
But that’s the product we provided. 
Second chances are no more, Santa’s plot we wait for. 
He’s sick of this, he doesn't care, it’s as if he’s not wanted here. 
He gets ready to take it all back…. 
WAIT! 
There’s still one toy left in his sack, it’s for a little girl, half a world away. 
Now how could he have missed this, on the perfect Christmas day? 
He turns around, not time for war. 
This toy, the girl is waiting for… It’s not a toy like you’d expect. 
She didn't ask for electronics, or stupid games such as Sonic. 
She just wanted one small thing… 
She’s waiting for something EXTRA special this gloomy day. 
In a bed she sits and stares, at the window near a chair. 
She’s so weak, and all alone. 
She doesn't even have a real home, not where there are bright lights anyways. 
They've decorated a weeping willow, the only tree around the “home”. 
So she has lights to see. 
It’s Christmas after all, but there’s no way to calm the raging sea. 
She’s dying, it won’t take much longer, and she doesn't care about the tree. 
She needs a new heart extra bad. 
So, Santa’s bringing her the one thing, that will stop her parents from being sad. 
He rushes to the hospital in his golden sleigh, and climbs right down the vent, 
He’s saving Christmas today. 
Santa rushes in just in time, finds a doctor, the girl is dying. 
It’s not what he usually does, but he stays and watches as they save her life. 
He waits for her to wake up. 
“Santa, you saved my life, oh thank you so much! I needed my heart to be touched.” 
He just smiles, and kisses her hand. He’s so glad he didn't destroy the land. 
Christmas is still a special day. 
There’s no more sorrow, no, not today. Santa smiles though some are still ungrateful. 
There’s that one child, standing in the snow, her life can now be started in the evening glow. That’s life for the grateful, loving, caring, and the thankful. Most of the time Santa just gives toys. For all the good girls and boys. But not today, and not tomorrow, once a year he gets rid of sorrow. So sleep tight and say your prayers, Christmas time is but once a year.


Details | Quatrain | |

Dawn

A blue bird sings,
a raven calls,
how sweet the sound,
how strange the fall.











Details | Free verse | |

Desert

The desert is made of nothing
Inner, swimming the  thoughts.
Just as it feels like,
Come from somewhere, goes to nowhere.
Yesterday doesn't belong to us,
Tomorrow? Who knows.
But today, we have feelings,
That nothing belongs to us,
Whatever,
Just nothing.


Details | Free verse | |

The Woman Outside

The Woman Outside ©

A woman lost and innocent,
loving the wrong man, loving him in spite 
of his terrible choices, bearing 
his children, knowing the gamble

The gamble is lost and they
take him away
to a place where fear, anger and 
violence reigns
and he has no choice but to do his time
and come out alive

She has lost far more than freedom, 
and occupies her own prison of 
fear, hopelessness, and resentment
Once a month and every holiday she takes
her beautiful hopeful children inside the walls 
to sit in the cold dreary room with the
other families; always waiting

She must play the part of the good wife and 
perfect mother while she slowly withers inside
her soul crying out because she has done 
nothing wrong but still will be
punished with the rest of them.

Trisha Sugarek
Moths and Machettes


Details | Free verse | |

GROWING UP

On the empty floors I am watching the nights roll
flowing in other nights.
Nature's mirror has come to give birth and to destroy
the typhoons are embracing me, an unstoppable power
in my two arms.
Between logic and the holy the notions are lost
I am turning blue inside the sky's blue.
And I return again and again to repay the same sin
upon which my own blood has dropped
and with blood I try for centuries to pay.
My form is drawing circles
-what is your name?-my name is Human.
Can this mortality embrace the darkness?
Can my bare hands hold within them the air?
I was born for the renaissance of colours,
I threw green and yellow at the edge of the horizon,
I painted red the lost dreams of history
and I placed white on all the spots of the sky.
I was born to destroy and I dig pits everyday,
I bury inside them living truths and I cover them with shovel and water.
Be quiet! The seasons are sleeping...
With small knives I carve the corners of the world
until I find the bone to puncture it, deeper and deeper.
Our fears are breaks of the Universe
they are transfered from planet to planet,
they change orbit, while cleaving the clouds.
''Learn how to walk, learn how to talk, learn how to kiss, learn how to leave, learn how to love, learn how to kill"...
Hollow bodies at the mountains top are burning with the flames of redemption.
They carry the same rock everyday, everynight until they reach the end,
the end that doesn't exist.
They fill the glasses with water, the glasses that dont have bottom.
Don't ask me to change the world, you only gave me soil but you have forgotten the water
and with hands dry and dirty I collect time to repay you
for your graces, because there is light and there is darkness, because I stop in front of red and I walk in front of green.
But you don't know, you don't, that I find strenght everyday, since I opened my eyes,
I am preparing in silence and I am clentcing my teeth
because the time will come, when I will throw a big punch at this carton world,
I will tear it up in half and I will see what lies behind,
behind the lie.
Shaken off from my dirty morality
I will touch the sacred redemption
I will wake up from the dream,
I will embrace at last, for the first time, reality.


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 | 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 | I do not know? | |

A Chipped Heart

A Chipped Heart...


Dreaming, my heart brittle as glass,
my solitary facade a pitiful farce,

shards tearing out of my skin,
seeking release, from cages within,

I am lost, in the dream,
bellowing out a silent scream,

torn from reality, drowning in the now,
yet I refuse,
I refuse to succumb,

I refuse to bow.



My chipped heart, may be wounded,
wreathed in pain,

still,

I believe, love, truth, belonging,

will take my hand,

again...


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 | 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 | I do not know? | |

She

She

She smiled, gently,
her warmth infusing me,
with a serene stillness of time.

She settled, slowly,
in my waking thoughts,
a soothing balm of simple joy.

She remains, scribbled,
on the walls of my fractured heart,
memories of happiness that once breathed...



Details | Rhyme | |

Our politicians

Our Politicians
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like 
Committing a crime.

For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).


Details | Free verse | |

The Blood of Time

My curse flys with the vulture
who has never learned to die
My blood runs in the water
that reflects the bleeding sky
My soul hides in the shadows
that dance with fire
Forever

Forever leaving footprints in the sand
that lead to the moon
Or Armageddon

Footprints of fatigue
putrid with deception
or fleeting hope...
proud in the exhausted moonlight


Details | Pastoral | |

Moments in time

It’s not a ‘cloud of issues’ to deal with
but a crowd of witnesses that surrounds us;
with different personalities and gifts to offer
remind us that we’re all unique creatures
that God has made across time and space.

Moments in time enable us to change gears,
provoked by situations that bring to reflection;
relationships weave as crucial elements,
to our standards and expectations.

By way of committing to affairs of life,
there’s meaning, home to grace –
and it’s home to God that makes us wonder
his ways are certainly not our ways.

The concept of bitachon  takes us on a journey,
like a beautiful sanctuary within is being shared.
in the fullness of life’s experiences speak therefore –
how integral God is in each of our lives.

he makes us whole again, complete in inner dimension;
with peace that embraces all in a right relationship,
truly, a metaphor for the heart of life, a sacrament --
that provides grace and sanctity to be holy.

The God of love speaks and enters our inner sanctuary -
the heart which acts like a third eye in general;
hence, human struggles echo who we are
that define perseverance and faith in the living God.

We have cried enough tears in our lives
with a tremendous amount of optimism;
though as it sometimes seems a mystery, a problem -
that becomes a straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Aimed at transforming our lives into pieces of hope
where love is shared in many forms and shapes;
God dwells at the heart of every human being,
his interconnectedness defines his essence with us.

What a great gift to keep that in our minds,
it is God and us and those around us;
ilustrate a beautiful symmetry, another episode
that sustains us to keep in the race, keep in the game.
With a vivid recall of events in the life passed by,
a way of emphasizing how God keeps us strong
a response to what life is; in moments of time – he’s still there.
one with the Father, and the Father is in him. 

As Mark Twain said in one of his many writings,
“it is not what I don’t understand about the Bible
that bothers me.  It is what I do understand!’ He’s everything;
for we are in him, and he is in us;  we’re his sons and daughters.


Note;

Bitachon - a Jewish word which means “trust in God,” plays a critical role in jewish thought.  Just as a person should strive to observe Mitzvot, he or she should try to develop bitachon, a consciousness that God is actively involved in our lives.


Details | Free verse | |

Faith Healer

The odor is intolerable
Like a foul beast clinging to the end 
I can barely subdue its subterfuge 
But here I am, 
I’m standing here of sound and mind
Waiting for the time that answers my own questions

Can it race with the fires of Orc?
Doubtful, but it can jog steadily can’t it?
The weather is awful, filled with sounds
Penetrating a document not written
It pains me to fight through the night
Not because it’s dark, but because I am just a shadow.

Lester drives but
Motional lasts forever
Still driving
Still crying
And slowly dying as time waves on
Like oceans that can’t be seen.

Nobody cares and everyone listens
Ironic, like a bible that holds lies and deception
Can its will be pierced?
Can freedom stay free?
Is it worth it to stay hooked when everyone around
Seeks liberty?


Details | Monorhyme | |

Bearded

I wear a beard of aging, upon a cliff-face chin
A year has passed and grown its hairs out from my mottled skin
Mistakes sit there unchallenged, to each fibre clings a sin
Yet despite my facial mask of age the clubs won’t let me in


Details | I do not know? | |

skg

Its time to do what's written
Explain,  I can't until you let go of all you know
To understand what truths we are missing
Or that have been hidden

I will use my self as target
Cause its not in everyone
To comprehend what life really is
Want their illusions to last
And their sheltered seeds
To know aristocracy is vast
And naturally be thankful you
Were born into a family name.

Using me just went out the window
"Is everybody in" the parable now begins
Just let me reiterate one thing
This is not prewritten are premeditated
Comes as I flow in know order its a border
Of all spirits journeys I just speak what I hear
As all thoughts ideas and fears from bankers to 
horticulture engineer
and use metaphor to gently spread what's shown
To me at the speed of energy
life is about the moments you didn't notice
Cause your loyal to a few instead of all

This may be another start of a recently lost
365 pages of parabolic explanation
But this time the mind I lost is back in parts
Its a dang shame I spent my life running from
My destination.

I always knew were I was headed
But I love unconditionally
And did not upset a global rhythm
So spent my years destroyiing myself

So I will start on this suicide mission
Of speaking things that reason can see
but ironically are mind is to caught up
In lies we would despice given silence, thought,
And time. Granted I'm adhd ocd and have
a hyperactive brain it never stops I don't sleep
I go into energy efficient sleep mode
Screen iis off but the light still blinking
Wifi and Bluetooth are examples of the
Sync option that we all have and I always known
That has been proven but dismissed
Cause to refill u must have empty cup
And no one wants to give up what they got
And even those who don't have it good
wont see truth because between
Faith, luck, and advertising they may
Get a chance to were thousand dollar slacks
And treat those below like they have no reason
To think they deserve the blessing they
Accidently came across. In the stroke of a check
their roots,  ideas, and ethics lost or bought
Traded to the man made faceless seemingly the
most beautiful thing to give all a fair shot at being
Elite when before we bought in we were equal men.
The rabbit hole goes deep and who better
To hear words and not speak pridefully
One thing above all and its a hitter
Before you understand creation
You first must understand man is nothing


Details | Rhyme | |

Lady Dweller


There dwells
A lady among us,
Her, we trust or mistrust.
She goes on and on.
She blinds us until she has gone.

Makes us think real hard.
But will not reveal the hidden card.

The voices deep inside her head,
Their shrill tones eventually shed.

Many dusks slip into dawns,
As she sings us her songs.

She zooms pasts those lonely milestones,
Stranded people she leaves in their waiting homes.

Under her breath she keeps humming,
Tunes of serendipity that keep coming.

Speaks softly to the clouded sky,
she walks the paths, as ponds they fill and  dry.

Rains of mystery she makes them pour,
the fields of hopes she grows.

There dwells
a  lady among us,
Her, we trust or mistrust.
She goes on and on,
She blinds us until she has gone.


Details | Free verse | |

L'AUTRE MOI

I am the metronome
mover of measures
wide . . . . . . . . wide . . . . . . . . . . . . swings my pendulum
tracing the tempos of time

Tick-tock
my hands
a poco a presto
strum
staccato
the strings of my mind

I am the hollow
hourglass
Trickle my tunes
to the tilt of the times

The see-sawing sea
paces my sands—
murmurs ageless songs
in major
and minor

Sharp waves
crack my still mirror—
capture the startled sun
in splintered rays

I am the pulse of the wordless deep
Somehow
constant my cadence
Somehow
the play of my tides
echoes
the gravity of the moon


– Harley White 

< 1972 >


Details | Free verse | |

A Winter Walk

Winter star,

   so frozen where you are;

   in some glazed galaxy,

   how far is your lofty eminence?

Shine you will,

   in your celestial world,

   perhaps your rays more ancient

   than Earth's first darkling crib;

Where once none had been.....

No earthly eye to behold thy majesty;

   shearing darkness 'til what final wall?


Details | Rhyme | |

My Pretty Little Secret

She’s my pretty little secret, locked up in my heart

She keeps the sensations flowing to every body part

Together we work naturally, and effortlessly as one

Making things happen, a little business then alotta fun

There’s no other, that my secret wants to be kept by

Gotta hold on to her, she’s bad like a sinful lie

What we have is the truth, something we’ll forever share

To each other we stay true, to do opposite, we wouldn’t dare

This secret constantly sticks with me, like the feeling of guilt

Been holding it in for too long, so much anxiety is being built

I'm lucky to know her, she makes me feel rich, does a lot for me

She’s one of a kind, and real special, so I call her lottery

The thought of my secret, creates an eruption deep down

Everyday I’m yearning to tell her, “Baby I’m in town”

She a little secret, but far bigger than the average size

Communicates with mother nature, can make the sun rise

Can make the dying tree blossom, and the smiling cloud weep

Knows all the right moves to make, even during her sleep

Always keeping me relaxed, and doing things I cannot say

Got me all loose, focused, and ready for the next day

Everything keeps on getting better, got her in my life

Ready to produce some secret kids, make her my secret wife

When we’re alone, each second is a thousand minutes in all

If there’s anything on my mind, she’s the one I would call

Can let out all my intense feelings, she’s not one to judge

Supporting and forgiving, she won’t ever hold a grudge

My ways of thinking and loving, have all been rearranged

She makes my world do flips and turns, all one big crazy ride

Royal, important, and lucky, how she makes me feel inside

To get rid of this secret, is equivalent to being a fool

When my fire’s burning, she does nothing but keep it cool

I can grab her hand, take her to the stars and the moon

But she can play with time, have my midnight flipped to noon

Magnificent in every way she is, no better does it get

Nothing can be compared to her, my pretty little secret


Details | Rhyme | |

Mocking me

Time she keeps on mocking,
But the old monk is all tranquil.
Peace written all over the face,
Is this the lull before the storm?

But the birds...
They chirp & sing their own songs

Time she keeps questioning me
It’s heart is  red but i can’t see
Playing with me and with my mind
Revealing thoughts of all kinds.

As the sun goes down ,time ,she will slide,
And steal the light from the ground

Time she will stare at me  all mute,
As my heart turns lute
Ohh.ooo yea
Time will stand still and wait on me,
As  I lose my yesteryears in shadows of what I could be
Ohh.ooo yea
Time she ogles at me,
As the morn is draped as green as can be,
Ohh.ooo yea

Time sees me 
As i clean drops of dew from words that seem so true
Ohh.ooo yea
Time she keeps on mocking
Time she keeps on mocking


Details | Free verse | |

Secret Society go die

society wouldn't let me go to school
wouldn't medicate me when i was seriously ill
society punished me for having a breakdown
after 3 of my friends were murdered, 
and my grandma became paralyzed
and my grandpa was in a coma
society wouldn't employ me
society allows me to live off of 200 dollars a month
society made me homeless
and i was made to beg for a free meal in the homeless shelter
society didn't care about the environmental health of my village
society wouldn't even investigate when i told them my own house was a chop shop
society sent me to a mental institute time and time again to cover their lies
society turned my names into songs, a metaphor for genocide
society has forced me into survival mode where they reap the benefit
of me turning negatives into positives
society plajerises me
society didn't care when i was almost murdered
society didnt care when i told them i had been raped
the sound of societies laughter inspires me to hate
society lies about everything
i should be insanely rich
society disgusts me as they feast on flesh
and i get the scraps
society should realise i am a genius and could have done something with my life
and i tried anyway
society should appologise for what they did
but i know it's too late
society you deserve to cry for allowing your torture victoms of your war
live in this way
society drove my parents away from me when i was a child
i'm not sure how society sleeps at night
they probably need some heavy sedatives
society can't relate to me
not like they try anyway
this is just a short list of all the reasons you have given me to die
and i try to kill myself at least once a year
either on my birthday
or christmas which society doesn't let me celebrate


Details | Free verse | |

Bygone Days

The sick sadistic people that torture the kid
Thinking of thoughts to fascinating in sin
Hiding behind a stature of loneliness he hates
A time warp in his chest it elates
Swaying through time with no cause or mentality
He don't want to feel like a congenital abnormality
Piercing his mind with no anesthesia
Mind caught in the lake of amnesia
Grasping towards another minoral fate
Sometimes in this bygone world its too late
Suffering a wraith in his vivacious serenity
So sad and unaware with no amenity
This boy has suffered for a time of days
Like most diverse and beseeching in many ways
But tampered with is his lamp of time
Puppet strings in his head now a mime 
The prescription of happiness is a lie
Bury the darkness as a maggot one day be a fly
This is the torture of a teen so young
Now no speech they take your tongue
Its over
Its over
Slit it in his own health
Slayed down for his enlightened death....


Details | Prose Poetry | |

~ (~) ~ If You Will ~ (~) ~ (Part #1 of 2) ~ (~) ~

~ (~) There was this poll, it stated would you rather be informed of your punctuation mistakes publicly or through private message with the helper of your punctuation mistakes or yes maybe even not... . (~) ~ ~ (~) My answer: (~) ~ ~ (~) Out of the choices I voted openly yes... . Here's why... ! (~) ~ ~ (~) How can I grow individually if I deny the help in doing so whether it offered openly or as I have found from time to time, a bit covertly, even furthermore or entirely IF YOU WILL... . (~) ~ ~ (~) Gives me as well if not just for the punctuation, or grammar, use of metaphor, any thing in regards to such. Such it is for me when I write, wish to learn and grow into being a being, writer EQUAL human child of God, that strives to be (H)onest, ((O))pen heart mind body, soul, to be growing ever more (((W)))illing-in these-strivings... . (~) ~ ~ (~) Great poll friend... . (~) ~ ~ (~) It Also helps me to offer the reasoning as to why the punctuation's or metaphor or grammar from time to time was so presented as it was in what the person commenting has offered with the said suggestions for me one themselves as they were presented... . (~) ~ ~ (~) Helping the reader FOR the next time to read if they so choose or if you will or might just stumble upon, through looking at the comments themselves. So they know as well the reasoning, denial, of the suggestion by the write and why, or the acceptance of it, or if you would consider even furthermore, both parties coming to an equal compromise PEACEFULLY BOTH GROWING TOGETHER... . (~) (~) ~Thereby it being open or not open as a suggestion, the way that it is handled by both parties can be viewed and everybody as well has the opportunity to grow furthermore if they so choose... . (~) ~ ~ (~) As I stated above I have no problem with receiving an offering, denial, no matter what it may be, it all teaches, in many ways myself, them or another if open to it... . (~) ~ ' ~ (~) Thank you for the poll friend... . (~) ~ ~ (~) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2NEU6Xf7lM (~) ~


Details | Rhyme | |

A Metaphor of Life

A Metaphor of Life

By Elton Camp (Elton4562@Yahoo.com)

“For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” - New King James Version

Human life is rightly compared to a mist
It’s for only a brief time that we exist

Droplets of moisture the fog create
An insubstantial and unsteady state

It’s dispersal many factors can bring about
Few will notice or care, there’s little doubt

From where the vapor came we don’t know
And as to where it went, the very same is so

So it has been on earth since Abel died
Both righteous and wicked are cast aside

From dust they came and to dust return
Everlasting life not one of them can earn

But of resurrection, a great deal is said
The just and unjust will arise from the dead

The Christ an ignominious fate did face
The ransom price paid for the human race


Details | Free verse | |

Self reflection

Self-reflection is an art
A two edged sword that no one teaches
No religion philosophized
my own personal goal 
to better myself 
and understand everything 
by seeing one another 
through the slide of me 
through another’s eyes 
and that person 
through yet another’s eyes

Four good qualities you truly possess is where I start
The good things about me
Actually that’s a lie
That’s what I recommend
I usually get a little bit sad sit here and realize 
That I think I’m deep and no one understands

I know through self-reflection of understanding history
and putting myself in other peoples shoes
Like a mental actor of how I would feel emotionally and mentally
and then writing it down
is like self reflection but not quite
close but no cigar I have learned we are truly all actors and life is indeed a stage
And when we learn how to manipulate the greatest acts of man for the history 
books
The next generations will be taught in school how to prevent wars and live in 
piece by us selling one perfect life or lie
And I wonder if I’m a 27-year-old psychological lie of a ghetto wizard
I’ve described

Through self reflection I know they're are things I need to change
Some things I never will
Some things I am a part of
And at least the parts and pieces of my life I live like poetry that if they were 
captured like dreams in a butterfly net
They would teach something to the future like Jesus or anybody would if they 
understood
Just how to self reflect emotionally mentally put yourself in another’s shoes and 
learn the lesson through writing a poem
or thinking it out

If each generation and the history books were all acts of men
and my generation has to top the last lie with a wisdom of the perfect metaphor 
to unlock the following generations thinking process
Is that the game of the planet?
Are those the reasons to the wars we fight today?
to teach tomorrow
When they write their essays that will become tomorrow’s politicians 
An insane asylum can teach politics and all we really want is to pay them to be 
rich and make global friends so we can have utopia
But in the history book of the essays they no longer write where life lessons were 
learned and taught through misfortune of man
there are gems to be uncovered of how to stop wars how to peace keep
How to mediate
How to live
How to heal
and every generation we discover it on our own as the teachers subtly shape our 
minds




Details | Romanticism | |

Summer

 
The metaphor of
great love falls from 
a two-way kiss,
warming the coldness
of time, passing, unnoticed
by the aged rocks
lying, sacredly,
on naked island, where 
tares stoop
upon flowers, sharing 
un-scented hisses,
no one hears, but 
the sky, the birds,
the sea, the water
and every li’l thing on it,
certainly, feel the silent 
commotion of minds, giving 
death no space… 

to speak in its tongue.


Details | Narrative | |

Earthbound sobriety

While crossing Verrazano Narrows Bridge
recurring mem’ries of New York recapture 
history and civilization of the two boroughs
provide me with deep interest and emphasis.

Brooklyn in its old Dutch for “broken land,”
and Staten Island named “Staaten Eylandt”
named in the early 1600s by Henry Hudson,
trailed off on a tangent through centuries.

A myth or perhaps a legend, the island thus far,
was like a quagmire of townships and disputes;
its meaning to immigrants’ culture and religion,
favored silence, security, peace, and integration.

The burden of too many choices based on clans,
growing businesses and stories of interactions;
new immigrants in droves through generations
like an orchestra combined with a sense of drama.

Reflections of their struggles to make ends meet,
reminded me of articulation through interpretation;
in sobriety of heeding of the composer’s intent,
such a musical piece made me suffer and sweat.

Oh, the pedal, rhythmic vitality and expression!
all these elements comprise what piano playing is,
the technique, in a special way, a benchmark item
indeed, a struggle to interiorize those conventions.

But as a human person with some limitations,
with my own history and capability in playing,
I see where I can be fit and freely express myself;
through movements in diverse missionary works.

As it says in French, “bon débarras, il est partí.” 
my life continues with a backlog of other issues,
a different world focused on service to the Lord;
with my own repertory – its beauty to humanity.

It’s true that my prayer for the church at large,
is also a bridge across the gulf of separation;
coming to this borough of Staten Island
a hodge-podge of concerns, covenanted within.

Now that relationship with God and people
brings me to nourish that faith and commitment;
with that long stretch of Verrazano Narrows Bridge,
a metaphor to my own journey as a missionary.


Details | Free verse | |

Gullible God

A watch on each wrist
wearing a hat that has early stitched on it
The metaphor of late in his back pocket
Carrying a black file with a smiley face sticker centered on the top
Wearing a red Olympic Jersey with the five colorful rings
and playing with a YoYo that goes up and down

But no one notices me

Poetry on file
In the forensic pavilion institute of the mentally ill
one about a mayor a lawyer and a bride
another titled One
one I titled poisoning the well
one written called man of such skill
another called empathetic to the addict
and last but not least the dissapearing act

This man i once was now haunts the ghetto i live in like a wizard

But no one notices me

A short sleeved T-shirt that says
"see spot fringe"
and I'm covered in medically induced red rashes
of psoriases?
listening to the right music
I have become a metaphor for a prayer
the spawn of Satan on another web site

But no one notices me

One watch says 6
the left stopped at 9
Hurley my favorite hat
an eight ball on my wallet
and i threw away my coca cola card

But i still have that black file
I'm still here as the Ghetto wizard

Maybe I'll go fly my kite
Maybe I'll go play with my bouncy ball
I already broke my Yoyo

doesn't matter what i do

no one notices me


Details | Free verse | |

of an essence

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I never saw this coming
from the ground up
but what flights are timeless?
for what i felt I knew
but the clocks were all running
In that second of life lessons
The detection was cleverly misplaced
somewhere you left sometimes

Our bad luck was never ending
but we realised the seperation
would be our revelation
but the time was bomb of riddles
the hands of fate say hurry up and wait
And consider the truth behinf the haunted metaphor of what it means to be "them"
Somewhere you left me behind

Everybody wants after it
and I wanted it for me
the floods and fires
And all the warnings
trying not to drown or choke
trying not to burn or choke

The watch on my wrist
was naked and felt
It was going in endless circles
breaki9ng free of monotony
begging pleading in photoalbulms
no two people believe the sam thing
one of the twelve houses abandoned
somewhere you left me out on a line