. ‘Violin’ was written on a soft dark velvet night,
As I drifted - in the dreams - of the flickering - candle light;
Ne’er pre-planned - nor pondered - nor was she - pre-conceived,
She came from deep within me, appearing on the screen,
As did my favorite poem - my darling ‘Cannon Lee’.
‘The Love of a Gentlemen’ - and ‘Where the Heart Resides,’
Came from treasured memories - I tried to keep alive;
With words - chosen carefully - to create solidity,
I brought them back to life - to live eternally,
In vivid hues - more beautiful - than all the autumn leaves.
Others - fell like drops of dew - from flying fingertips,
That raced across the keyboard - in hopes they wouldn’t miss,
The chance to share the beauty - my eyes now fell upon,
Through the kitchen window - across the river - and beyond,
Where fields of liquid diamonds - glistened in the early dawn.
Others came in metaphors - disguising secrets held;
To painful in reality - for me to ever tell.
‘The Rose and the Thorn’ - poured herself upon the page,
A sonnet of over-whelming grief - rising up from hidden rage,
Releasing me forever - from my gilded cage.
These poems I write - come day come night,
Come candle or come neon light,
Come wind, come rain, come joy, come pain,
They are the life - the Great Creator - breathed in me;
They are my breath!
They are my poetry!
Author: Elaine George
Written: January 13th, 2010
Inspired by: Deborah Guzzi's contest 'How Do You do It - How do you write your poems'?
Authors Note: This poem was written on route to Bath, North Carolina via Ferry
crossing. It was written on a note-pad from the' Hampton Inn' and transferred
to my lap-top after returning to Swansborro.
There was a knock on my door
It was you
Never expected guest
çeviri : Songül Aynali
I am the ghost of heartaches past
I'm love's dark contrast
That empty seat
Beside you when you eat
The tear stains on your pillow case
I'm that new wrinkle on your face.
I am the gremlin of "What if?"
If you catch my drift
Who's biggest theme
Is to haunt all your dreams
I'm that loud echo in your life
That constant nagging extra strife.
I am that cold spot in your bed
I'm words left unsaid
I'm anger won
I'm promises undone
I'm that thing left to chance
I'm Lady Loneliness.....
Would you care to dance?
Timothy I. Brumley
Come out, I whisper, come out
peek softly from your veil of clouds,
grace the velveteen sky with your glow
Speak to me your tales of woe,
of lovesick souls in search of hearts,
lost in the labyrinth of desire...
then show me there is Hope
...Enchanted midnight moon
...of which the Moon whispers back...
Step out from the shadows, step out
bravely bask in my borrowed light,
fill the night air with your hope
Sweetly sing to me your wishes of love,
of ill-fated hearts to find their soulmates,
alive from the abyss of despair...
and I'll tell you all is not lost
...Courageous, faithful soul
** 2009. this was originally written separately, but decided to try out combining them in
I reached out for you once again
after eons of pretence, snobbish disregard
and plain neglect.
Yes I reached out, not with strong steady arms
that usually attend others
but with emasculated courage and battered pride.
Yes indeed I sought you.
I summoned you dear one
from the far far seas where to sail I had cast you
and had briskly walked away
to find solace in another's arms.
So now I sought a vantage point
from whence I could peer
into the darkening horizon
to see your approaching mast.
Yes I did indeed summon you, indeed I did.
Yes I called out for you
to attend me from the depths I had banished you
when life to me had smiled like the morning dew.
Yes indeed I called you,
to serve me in rhythm and imagery
to fill my plate with tone and hue
and soothe me with your rhyms in rhythm.
Yes call you I did, I really did.
So now I lie in the warmth of your words
like a lover cuddled in embrace
as you stroke my erstwhile desolate state
with the stroke of your flowing stanza's
and my heart you've now lulled to a soothing calm
with the rhythm of your crafted lines.
Yes indeed I reached out for you,
for I missed you.
We touched for a moment
From across the room
As only eyes allow
Standing in yen
And somehow fearful
I turn away
If I held valiance
Crass and fiery
I would dare to you
Though not today
I am of frailty’s ire
Flames of forbidden desire
That is you
A rare beauty of youth
I am lost and aged tonight
Afraid to look in your eyes
Fearing the burn
Of desire fulfilled
Heavy heaves in my chest
In a sigh of defeat
Up the empty pathway
I move on
My bark is worn from time and life
My steady branches have withstood much strife
The life blood that raged in my youth
Its edges raw and at times uncouth
Time has polished and as steel has hardened
As I have stood watch faithfully in my garden
My saplings I have sheltered and nourished
Their tiny sprouts have grown and flourished
My work here is almost done and
I was content to stand silent in the sun
However, one day as I stood alone
Came a carpenter with hands gentle and strong
He looked past my peeling ragged bark and
Found my barely beating heart.
He has caused me to dream of my youth again
Of beauty, peace and the passion of men
I am his project to mold and to make
A challenge only he is equipped to take
I stand here now curious to see
What this craftsman can make of me.
HELLO WORLD I SEE YOU SHINING IN THE CLEAR BLUE SKY WAITING FOR THE CLOUDS TO CRY.
OH WORLD I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE NO CONTROL OVER WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU WITH ALL THE POLLUTION GOING ON INSIDE AND ALL AROUND YOU.
YOUR BEAUTY IS FADING AWAY WITH ALL THE VIOLENCE AND POLLUTION IN YOUR SURROUNDINGS.
I NEVER EXPECTED YOU TO COME TO THIS CONCLUSION BUT ONE DAY YOUR BEAUTY WILL SHINE ONCE AGAIN.
NO MORE GREEDY POLITICIANS,CROOKED MINISTERS OR CRIMINALS.
YOU WILL SHINE WITH RIGHTEOUS PEOPLE INSIDE OF YOU WHO WILL NEVER HARM YOU AND WILL LET YOUR BEAUTY FLOW WITH THE RIVERS.
PEACE AND HARMONY WILL SURROUND YOU IN ALL THAT YOU WERE MEANT FOR.
SO WAKE UP WORLD DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO MOTHER EARTH SHE IS CRYING ON THE INSIDE AND SCREAMING ON THE OUTSIDE FOR HER CHILDREN TO LOVE AND BE IN UNITY.
People travel me from far and wide
Cars, vans, trucks, people inside
Going places around the globe
I help them on my open road
Winding up and down the hills
Some stop to see ocean spills
Police surveying people’s speed
So, the traveler’s better take heed
I have ramps for people to exit their space
Of final destination or resting place
I am the highway that has some strife
Looking for my exit to start a new life
If I could find it, I could begin again
Just like these travelers when they come to their end.
©Holly P. Moore
This is a day that I could have really done without,
Saying you love me and do this to me hurts no doubt.
Day after day I pray that you will please stop,
What pain you've caused me has taken all I've got .
I love you and adore you but it seems not to matter,
Still you continue to hurt me leaving my heart shattered.
You come to me with words I have only dreamed ,
But what they were meant for was to hurt me it seems .
Never have I seen a woman with so much hate ,
Taking revenge on me by disrespecting me till it hurts.
True I have waivered with my troubles with trust,
The one thing thats important and this is a must.
There are no more words or sayings that will ever work,
I have tried everything I know giving it all that its worth .
To the day I die I will never understand why ,
The woman I love does everything to make me cry .
So this my dream to be forever with you ,
Is only nightmares for me and dying is all I can do.
This a day I surely could do without.
In the early morning light…
You stand before me, and slowly disrobe, as you have so many times
Then …for a moment… as you have so many times before…you stare at
me, not seaming to see me at all, as you wipe the sweat from my face
with the palm of your hand.
Then…for the first time, as if looking for some lost truth you hope to find
buried in the depth of me, behind the silver mask I wear, you stare at me
in a way you never have before…Long and hard, until…tears begin to roll
down your cheek, when…for the first time… you see yourself, as you truly
are, through my complete indifference.
Written: August 23, 2014
On My Eighty Fifth Birthday
Another Birthday…I’m still alive
Never thought that I’d survive
To the ripe old age of Eighty Five!
But here I am…feisty still
Even though I’m over the hill!
Don’t count me out...Don’t ring that bell
I’m still here and raising hell!
Had a few blimps along the way
But I’m not leaving, I’m here to stay
Still have plans…I’m not done yet
I may do things I may regret
But I’ll have fun doing it
You can bet!
It matters not how old you are
You can dream your dream
Or follow your star
Your flesh may fail you
Your steps may be slow
More and more wrinkles start to show
But there is one thing I surely know
A man isn’t judged by how he looked
Or the size of his fortune or pocketbook
The greatest legacy he leaves behind
Isn’t intelligence or a fertile mind
But the love he gave to his family and friends
A heart full of love always transcends
Fame and fortune in the end
So Happy Birthday again to me
How many more…..?
We’ll just have to see
In the meantime friends
You’ll be hearing from me!
Copyright©2013 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Letters turn into words.....While words turn into understanding with meaning,some
you've never heard....
Sentences turn into stories....As stories fill our hearts and mind...slowly...
seducing thoughts letter by letter, word by word, line by line...
Words floating around in my head it's like they just won't quit...
I find meaning in everything, from the very first letter that any word has in it....
So for me writing is like my souls transformation into words...
Into a personal sense of freedom and levels of self expression in ways yet to be
It's so beautiful to me...That when I open my eyes I am able to see....
That life forms all type of letters into words into sentences into stories into my mind
into my being into my heart into me...
Chapters of love, pain, passion, lose ,success,pleasure, deceit, and envy....
The effects are astonishing and I've been blessed to see, The world's soul
transformed into words into life into POETRY....
Hello world here I am this is how it is going to go you accept me for who I am or you are not.
I am a child of God and I know for a fact that he made me in his own special way.
So sick and tired of people saying what is beautiful and what is not.
I am like a rose so delicate, soft and beautiful I shine like the sun with that special glow.
So sick and tired of the magazines saying that I have to be a size in order to be accepted.
I have to look like a movie star I have to have big breasts, a flat stomach and a big butt.
In order to be called beautiful I am a goddess anyhow I am a queen who shines with the stars who glows with the moon and who is beaming like the sun.
I am who I am and I refuse to change for anyone they are going to have to accept me for who I am or they are going to have to keep it moving.
I love who I am in this skin I am in this skin I shine in this skin I glow in this skin I am a child if God.
squeeze in here baby girl
I’ll mold that tummy fat
[I’m a churning urn] I'll grab that behind, hold it tight
sculpt those stretch marks, just right
come here lad, I'll turn those marbles blue
turn those knuckles white [no that’s not a rocket]
they'll chew a strategic hole
through that shredded cotton cord
bend over, your fertile galley
and climb on board
yeah, I'll show off your rear entry
let them see [the crack of dawn]
what we can see unseemly, yet
even the poor are marked by my geas
let me squeeze you lads and ladies
naw, it's not disgusting
* jeans which are too tight are annoying ;)
to those in them and those looking at them!
With a sparkle in his eyes
and touch so ready...
with every move
O so willing...
like you and I
loving every word,
yes to please her,
You wish to possess me
I am the embodiment of your dreams
Yet I remain elusive
I tease you
I allow you to hold me but not for long
The smell of me intoxicates you
You work night and day and still I am not yours
I am promised to another
Others are living their dreams
Why are you left in poverty?
You are told I can not bring health or happiness.
It feels like a lie.
Wait for me
I will fill your pockets one day
Honest work does pay
If you have patience
I will not run away
Do not sacrifice to much in the pursuit of me
You need less of me than you imagine
I am but one gift that you will receive.
First attempt at personification, hopefully I got it right.
Eyes wide open, facing a turbulent world.
A few panting breathes inward,
followed by a blink or two,
leading to breaking news,
all the while,
I am going on a trip because I need to spend a week away from these aspects.
Don’t burn that money.
Don’t waste it either.
I’ll spend it on something that I dislike.
It may be a venture but since I have spent my money, I can get high.
Clip art are my drawings and they are of beautiful megabits.
I think I am superfly so I play Rock & Roll all night.
Escape to the highest heights of my imagination is when I know who I am and where I have been
Little am I and my jeans are tight.
With my big tits, I walk as if I am filled with sexual desire.
I see myself and smile.
I’m feeling something that is so real.
I knew, if I lost focus, I lose my inner being.
So I give self a darn bulge, know that this is my world; therefore, I don’t lose the sensation.
The impression I give is that of confidence.
Self-asserted and assured, I moving up to finer things.
Handsome is the day and the night falls so lovely.
But I need to see what’s mine.
I need to see what belongs to me.
Strikingly, I find that I own so many priceless images.
A landscape I may pick to be serenity.
Or, a portrait is nice for the stillness.
I’ll plant a flower field to enjoy the contentment.
Equanimity is a silent panic.
I am just a being of the higher intelligence.
The noise is a clamor that does not last.
I will be the uproar of happiness.
Such a pleasure to have told you this.
If you want a replica, you may do the same.
That is joy in a virtual domain.
No more is the chance than any other government.
I have ruled this empire as long as I can remember.
Directions are easily to follow.
If you fail, I will not fail mines because all are downloadable.
I do not share my empirical secrets.
I am a régime of systems.
Simulated by thoughts that is pure.
Only I can be the downloader.
- And -
The Earth's surface
And to all
With redeeming life
Cause for freedom
To set Thee free....
I look into the mirror of my soul
And an image does unfold.
Is this really me
This creature that I see?
When did I open the gate
For this demon known as hate?
When did I let envy in
With all his other kin?
With all these demons living there
I have no room to spare.
If love should knock upon my door
I'd have to put him on the floor.
It won't take these demons long
To sing that fellow's death song.
They'd walk on him both night and day
If he should try to stay.
This hate must be a parent thing
Breeding many negative offspring.
Hate and envy, strong or mild
Which is father? Which is child?
I must evict these trespassers.
They've got to look for other pastures.
I'll send them all away today
I'll not put up with such as they.
Alright hate, I'll start with you
You seem to be big man in this crew
You go find some other place to lurk
And do your dirty work.
Don't forget to take the others with you
I want nothing more to do
With you, your friends or your relations.
None of you had invitations.
I don't remember how or when you came
But I know how you play your game.
I have studied your book of rules
And I also know your tools
You wear many masks to disguise
Yourself from human eyes.
Like a chameleon, you change your hue
To blend in any view.
Hurry up and go. I've got work to do
Cleaning up this mess after you.
If love should stop by here some day
I'll have a decent place for him to stay
The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”
I hear everything all too well
my weary body has no place to dwell
so much is told about me I often wonder what is left
is it not enough to mock me in the town square
do we need to gossip with family I never truly had
another tear I shed, but no one truly cares
I am the almighty beautiful Red in thought
and none of the world I live knows me or my past
what doesn't work for them they invent or add
she will forgive us all they reassure
Oh Dear God make me a bird, I wish to fly away
but the hens all laid for the day,
the hay needs to be tossed,
and who will milk the cow,
so the woman, Red that lives out sin
stays to work this farm again
Often she becomes overwhelmed by it all
but not me it is my destiny
in my land of fantasy and made up things
how I wish I could be like she
I am the scandalous one
I protect all those I love, at any cost
but I will never be good enough
I met a man once but he has traveled on
he talks of things I seem to do, but it is not my truth
he pays me back in silent death
I gave up everything to let him live
yet it was not quite enough you see
he needed my family, friends, and destiny
yeah, I met a man who claimed he knew me
in my land of lies and make believe
but Red she is strong and always says please
she is the beautiful one ever-so loving
and doesn't need things such as love
she has too much to do
her skin is not soft yet rough
and she is tougher than I will ever be
I just want to fly away each day
to some land I created
I live in beautiful dreams
in fields of wheat I long to be
where I saw my children last
but to Red they are forever gone
passed on to seed
yeah that makes my world of fantasy
with made up monsters so much better
ask Red she will know
I am weak yet she is so strong
youtube com /watch?v=N3sUpbmBYyM
Gossip in the Grain inspiration
Will edit later
Just being silly
Do you find your-self
With-out a ladder and
Just don't know
What to do?
Try the "Law Of Reciprocity"
Fore only good thing's
Come back to you!
Be Prudent in all matter's
- And -
Always' do your part
And always' be care-full
In matters' of the Heart
Is a double standard
Sense of Judgment
Hippocratic Core say's:
I will also get
An attitude if
You mention it!....
Oh, ever flowing pen
I've grown cognizant
You, my only comforting friend,
Taking me adrift
Waves of the forbidden sea
Venturing into territory unmarked,
That offers a soothing melody
Caressing, permeates tranquility
As you rock my restless mind
Into a delusional bliss
Unspoken words that dance
With excitement upon my paper
Do You find your-self
With-out a ladder
And just don't know
What to do?
Try the "Law Of Reciprocity"
Fore only good thing's come
Back to You!
Plant your-self a Seed
And then You shall
Have a Tree...
Just give it a little time
And soon you will have three...
Then You shall be able
For the very first time...
this poem is dedicated to Elvina Kuchukova
thy power over wood and water
lead me to springs untainted
thy music is a bath for the mind
thy art is a balm for the eyes
oh Elvina you elusive slyph,
where shall we meet next?
Elvina i long to see your face again
with thy hair black as midnight flowing like a river
thy face angles like an elf
with patience to match
thy gentel words show thou troubles
and scars yet to my eyes
they beauty is everlasting
Elvina i thank you
thy skin is scarred with lines of flame
the burning knife that scarred your skin
is no deterent to me for i know
the troubles other cause
you strength has saved
me from the burning knife
Elvina i thank you
you have saved me
Elvina i thank you
may we meet again
The words in my head are beautiful.
They are dancing cheek to cheek
with Southern legato or London staccato
with Chinese tunes and Xhosa clicks,
with native Dutch, straight from the heart.
The words in my head are reluctant
to stand in line. They like
to dance and play. They like
to echo inside the skull, infinite
Ping-Pong straight from the heart.
The words in my head come alive,
naked at the stroke of a key.
Ribbons of red and green show
who’s been good and who’s been bad.
Dots on the screen, straight from the heart.
The words in my head are ready
to face the world. I comb their hair
and clean their nose and wave goodbye
until they disappear around the bend.
One day they will be back, straight to the heart
Trying to come down a mountain you've already conquered is the true test, and it's a hard one.
Like pouring cheap sanitizer
over your bloody hands.
The 99.99 that it may kill will not eliminate the painful little hundreth percent of pain that still stands.
But it is necessary.
I can see parts of my past like jagged rocks I've already placed my feet upon once. They remind me of all the times I slipped up cut myself with such failure I never thought I'd move on from. I slide down the mountain's side, hoping that if I fall forward I will be caught by a cloud filled with the heaviness of my old pride. Reminiscing on a cumulus crime trying to piece together where I made the mistake in believing being selfish would ever put me on cloud nine.
It can no longer hold me
like flimsy caution tape failing to hold an overwhelming riot at bay
and down I go with the rain precipitating all my pain away.
At 6'4, my height is pretty easy to see
my mind is pretty difficult to read
And my beliefs are even harder to understand.
At times I feel having the word 'susceptible' tattooed across my chest would be fitting for me
just so I could be understood by my fellow man.
I heard that 90% of human interaction is nonverbal so
if I could, without a word I would speak volumes upon volumes of my autobiography and just live the rest of my life shirtless
So that even to the passing stranger, my life story they could comprehend.
Vulnerability at it's finest.
I learn from experience.
After a long fall, I land close to rock bottom.
The temptation to give up always seems to make camp in front of the exit of freedom.
I can see two male rams clashing their brains together while making a thunderous noise; the most accurate depiction of brainstorming I've ever witnessed, and an easy way to see that staying stuck at the bottom is a choice.
There is always something new to learn.
Something to struggle with up and down the mountain.
What we must learn is to not be ashamed of our struggles, and to instead show how we are victorious through the renewed life we live.