ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES…
These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.
Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history
Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.
We sashay along bleached beaches
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:
We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.
Wind so cold.
Fondles my face.
The tears from heaven.
I wonder if i wish
to stop them
The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin
with the pure coldness that you bring.
like it's my first time in the snow.
the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.
The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here.
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
And again I fold.
I sat and pondered the things I’d like to forget.
There have been some bad times -
Lost love, both romantic and familial,
betrayals by a few I considered close friends,
and the inevitable hardships of simply living life
including its numerous moments of sheer embarrassment.
I contemplated which of those many examples of life’s trials
I would choose to completely forget. . .
Then I thought of my step dad, who passed away -
and not so quietly - those several years ago,
his mind stripped bare of any reasonable thought,
and all his recollections, whether good or bad,
reduced to the fleeting images of childhood’s ghosts.
At the very end, was there even a glimmer for him
of the recognition of anything at all?
I was not there at his bedside, but my mother related to me
the wild fear in his eyes
as he choked for breath while clinging to life
despite his apparent inability to even grasp
one memory that would give him a reason to survive!
Everything reduced to the blind biological instinct
simply to breathe. . .
All who were there at the end with him
were praying for him just to pass
quietly into the night.
With all memory ripped cruelly away
and still he fought to live. . .
So how could I ever declare wanting to forget even an iota
of anything at all in my entire life?
Written 1/18/13 for Frank's Contest
It would be disingenuous to say that Ingenium did not have a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast. It would boarder a lie to claim the same deity did not begin their morning exercise with a job through the unexplored corridors of the memory and imagery. The halls of memory are charted to an extent, but the cathedrals hidden down the vast tunnels of imagery seem always foreign and new. There Ingenium stopped to smoke a cigarette, leaning against a door marked "wooden". Neighboring this door were others, each with a replaceable placard screwed into the hard-wood. "Plastics" one read. "Trees" read another to Ingenium's left.
Propped up by the "wooden" door, they watched blurred figures move behind the tinted glass window of the door before them. Dark letters were craft-fully painted onto the glass: "Office Furniture". There seemed to be an argument over vague physics terminology being held between two shadowy characters in the office space beyond the tinted glass. The abstract entity could only make out a few mumbled words, something about work force equaling applied pressure divided by ambition over availability. The banter failed to impress Ingenium, and the muse snuffed its cigarette against the oak molding of the "wooden" door before continuing its job.
They passed other more decorative doors like "religion" or the red-white and blue striped door labeled "politics". It wasn't until Ingenium reached the door to the self that they stopped and released a sigh. Reaching down with unfathomable presence, Ingenium turned the red glass door knob and opened the door before it. A world of light and darkness poured out, flowing through the deity like whey through a screen. The curds that collected there were the substance of the soul. The cheeses that we ate that night were the mana of life, to be consumed today and gathered again on the morrow.
An ordinary rectangular wooden mirrored lid, paint-chipped and worn,
sits in my bathroom, the mirrored part having gotten spotted over time.
I often hold it up in front of me, faced away from the bathroom mirror
to check my hair and clothing from behind.
Sometimes I take it in my gym bag to check myself after workouts.
Other times it has served as a receptacle for small items such as pins or pencils.
The remnants of two gold latches, flattened now and a bit rusty,
prove that this common lid was once attached to something else;
it was a lovely jewelry box, for which the mirror served a definite purpose.
When the box was open, the mirror, upright, reflected a tiny ballerina
dancing on a center platform to the tinkle of a pretty tune.
No one would guess the sweet scene this old mirrored lid once reflected
nor the many childhood treasures it covered, so why do I still hang on to it?
However ordinary it is today, this bulky mirrored lid gives me some small comfort. . . .
If I try, I can almost recall the times I opened its precious box
to see a ballerina twirl, accompanied by that sweet music from my youth.
What is it to me
that I cannot place you
in the picture painted by the years
the life has already spent?
Do you merely lurk,
and leave at a much later time?
you are staying
If you may.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be
Ah, the grand scheme of things -
A familiar spirit we feel -
(Note) This piece was inspiredly written for the beautiful souls - even the
strangers - I have met along the way and will still come upon in my lifetime. To
each special one, you have stirred quite a familiar spirit within. A remembrance
of forgotten past, I suppose. Thank you for letting me peak through your
soul's window. The veil of forgetfulness has never been thin as now to me. You
have so given me a gift I shall treasure in the moments I may tend to forget
who I truly am - a being with a soul.
Dad looking at that weatherboard house, Old Tooters home,
A thrifty man.. us to him did his brother send,
Saying that the place could do with a mend;
The roof had red patches of pitted rust, the cost agreed, an aluminium spray, as if were new!
A bulge I saw like a big brown bag, ‘those eaves with bees were occupied’ my Dad said,
A bee man was arranged for tomorrow morn.
Off we set early that day to arrive at 8, for to watch the bees and the man perform,
He wore dungarees and a netted hat, and held a pot of smoke as well as that.
He pointed its puffs, ‘the bees were calm’, that’s what Dad said,
The man then moved this Italian swarm, they were productive he said; moreover than the norm,
Before he went saying no to pay, as these bees alone did make his day.
He pointed to the now vacant hive, saying there would 'bee' honey, most pure inside.
He told us cut it clean in two, the lightest colour would be the new.'.
He then drove off us to leave, me, my Dad and Tooter made three.
We cut it through as we'd been told, there was honey like sunlight, then a ring of gold, the core was darker of long months ago, from each we ate squeezing the comb, it fairly gushed upon the tongue.
The first seemed sweetest, the lightest one, the gold was more subtle onto the palate,
The darker ring also was sweet yet with a herb like twist; it did us treat.
Old Tooter said there was a reason.
For ‘twas gathered in the springs plant life season.
We ate a lot till we felt queasy,
Then Dad said work would make our stomachs more easy.
We set to work upon the tin, scrubbing back rust, and knocking roof nails in;
Then dad spun the flywheel on our new Briggs & Stratton machine,
Two hours later the roof was all silvered out, Old Tooter exclaimed it was better no doubt.
What Dad had promised was accomplished to the better; the old guy even wrote us his thanks in a letter,
‘Twas 40 years ago that day; on that I ponder as I write away..
Thinking on life, on seasons.. on reasons; just where is 'home?' where does it lie?
Under an immediate or distant sky?
Is it a street, a house, City, or shack?
Is it where you are safe from harm?
I'd say yes, with close good family, like that day on Tooters farm:
I look out a window its now dark night,
Tomorrow brings yet; the soft dawn light.
As I think, I recall a yeasty savoury smell,
Mom’s currant scones fresh baked from the oven; and risen well.
For me all these things are together tied
With what is home real deep inside!
And I know I'll never be parted, from that memory's treasure,
Where love was poured in generous measure..
So if I need to know of if, what, when and where?
I'll take a walk back up memory's stair...
Back to that day of sweetness fresh from the comb,
To say loud and clear; (honey I'm home).
©Joe Maverick 12-01-2014
When you are sleeping in the bed, with the bible god be my witness
I don't know if I can love every again.
I mean I try to date but something just keep hold me back hold me back,
self confident is not even the worth trying found words,
word, this type love could bring a grown man to their needs-
I never reallie got it when they said but your had on the bible,
and swore the oath for better or worst,
or when you hear music at a wedding and you dance the night away,
what are school proms for?
I though I better night would be resident evil and game cube
only if so one would clue me in-
Self consciously years later you question your action in school,
why was she the first I ask if she would buy a key chain from fbla
and the first time she said uh and then maybe the sentence
didn't even make sense so natural like
natural selection like we was sync-
Why in the world am I going to a baseball game another county over she was their,
and I did not realize I
was good at baseball in till I got older a simple sport I sware but I am part puerto rican it come natural
what am im saying it is to early for this like five in the morning-
but oh my god that dream a dream dream,
I don't even think I was on earth and
then two year later on mother day at western sizzle before
they shut down she came out no where like a ghost
and was sitting behind me with her family,
but why aren't you eating but texting-
but the real question is because im like slow is did they
reallie write me straight out of high school,
I mean I am like a street fighter the alpha type,
but a vibe like that
you gone have ask her because im shock when she took my sit in first period
like what are you doing?-
I don't know if im lost my mind or if she playing mind games?
They say it is the end of the world I say so what is she doing?
I guest the world will never know-
I got the chills and it not because of the weather all I want to know did he cry
when he walk you down the ally,
people always say you know when know but,
what am I saying I have never experience love like this before-
and im usually shy and word on the bird is uh right cause you took my breath away-
I don't think any one going get this
what was she doing at that ice cream store
I didn't even know that was a ice cream store
I did but I never notice it in till it was gone-
dream a dream dream still shaking up,
first thing I did was hit speaker on the phone
and hit every number it was it was scary but it beautiful,
a beautiful nighmare it was indeed,
I can not catch my breath let me go get the bible
this would be a reason to go back to church every
Monday Wednesday and Sunday-
All I can say is A-m-e-n , A-m-e-n, A-m-e-n
Cause world felt like it has already ending,
Friday thirteen J-a-s-o-n!!! and "Jason is my nickname"-
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
When you abandoned the sweetness
and chased your dream into the alley
When you thought it best to see me cry
When your mind changed with the direction of the wind
I stood there with spit on my finger tips...
holding my hand in the air,Waiting for the winds of hope
to blow your love and loyalty in my direction
Home is a strange city
where no one knows me.
where no one will invite me to sit across the table
and try to smile as I play with my stuffing on china with flowers
As I remember the children laughing and opening gifts.
I remember the long silent ride back to our house.
I think back when I got on my knees
before climbing into our cold bed
The prayers just uttered coming back void.
Ask God to just let you touch me again
I needed your body-heat to keep warm.
I needed your support to continue on
for the sake of the commitment.
For the sake of waiting for love to remind you
Even if pity could hold you there..
I would not be ashamed of what you sacrificed
When love had given birth to pity-
I would have held on without pride.
Now I never want to come back to that town.
Where no one cares that you don't love me.
I am in remission.
Alone but it's OK.
Please tell our future to visit me.
On the seashores.
The sun warms me in
my new home
where no one knows me.
All my old friends are
dead and dying.So...
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
Just my spirit and the ocean.
and one day tell our grandchildren
Grandma will be here walking;
With one finger in the air moistened with spit.
to see which way the wind blows.
Lies and deceit
Words that break down
Life changing decisions
Haunting daily life
Why the truth untold
For whose benefit?
But life continues
With memories haunting
When sleep won’t come
And early rays of the sun appear
So the memories fade they say
For one learns to live
With these memories
Of lies and deceit
I am what you call a hopeless
But im also a lost lovers cause, my
heart belongs to another
Yet in my head a love triangle starts
to form, the girl I love doesn’t love
She holds the heart to another and
mine caged to the floor,
She isn’t afraid to fight for what she
wants, not even when it comes to
leaving another man torn
Trust me she’s happy, as that boy
holds her heart ever so close
Seeing what I shouldn’t I smile as I
wear my blind fold,
Blind to everything around, lifeless
staring into air
My train of thought running so fast,
the second I stop you’ll hear a crash
Derailing my hope, for ever finding a
love so pure & rare
Wishing I could hold the hand of the
lover who stole my flame,
Wish I could change the last days in
which we parted ways,
Realizing now that we can never be
Finally saying it out loud as tears run
down my face
You stole my happiness, as I walked
away that day
But it’s because as of what you said
I guessed I changed,
Now every relationship has just be
No one can seem to bring back that
Because a love likes ours comes
once in a lifetime
Well at least it does to me,
But I mean you’re happy with who
I mean I only wrote this as I heard
exchanging “I love you” flow from
each of your lips.
Let`s go black in time
Come with me black to history
Black to the mother land
Where we rightfully belong
Black in time before the Europeans
Tried to whitewash our
Skins and minds
Black to the kingdom and ancestry
Black, way black before slavery
Black am I
Not just the color of my skin
The pupil of my eyes or the hair on my head
But black at heart, black in my thinking
And black in my thoughts
Black in time
Black my story, every sentence, every line
Black every rhythm and every rhyme
Black the days on their slave ships
Heading across the ocean lines
Black the shackles and the chains
Black the whips that cut our veins
Black the blood that stained the lands
Black the heart of every whiteman
Black the husbands and the wives
Black the circumstances which changed
Black the mother and the father
Black the separation from each other
Black, black, black, black
Black the struggles and the fights
Black the system which took away
Black the midnights we tried to make
Black the rope on the tree that hung the ones
Who wished to be free
Black, black, black, black
Let`s go black and turn the world around
Let`s take black our civilization
Every continent and every nation
Let`s take black the white man`s dominion
Let`s take black our rightful rulership
No more subjection under
The whiteman`s dictatorship
Let`s black out the pages
of the white man`s days
And attribute the praises
to the black liberal race
Black my eyes and the things they see
Black the visions of those who preceded me
Black Marcus, Selassie and Mandela
Black Obama and the Christ
Black the life I live because of their sacrifice
The sun seemed to last forever
As we walked hand in hand
My dad and I together
Our feet sinking in the sand
His smile was so bright
As he looked at me
What a beautiful sight
Of the ocean we could see
The South Carolina sun rays
Beat down on our tanned skin
Like we would feel it always
Like the happiness we felt within
The waves crashed on the shore
Grazing our bare feet
Our footprints not seen anymore
As the cool water washed away the heat
We made it to the house we rented
The beach was right behind
The morning always ocean scented
Sunset and sunrise will always stick in my mind
The week was full of relaxation
And sightseeing all around
I’ll never forget that last vacation
Your laughter was a constant sound
I wish we would’ve traveled there
At least one more time before it was too late
For life has many tragedies so unfair
And you can not dodge your fate
I will always watch the videos you took
Close my eyes as they fill with tears from the memories
For you will never again be able to look
Or feel that glorious ocean breeze
The world shifted a bit when I walked inside,
my resolution blind to the choke of memory.
It wasn't even you, just your little sister..
I still wanted to turn around, and walk right
back out of the restaurant. Go home.
**** lunch. Hungry for solitude, I fumbled
with the menu and meditated on the restless
scabs of a beer battered soul.
My father watched my jaw clench
and squinted. Mumbled his query,
but didn't push it. I couldn't speak,
bloody tidal waves surging toward
my eyelids, blurred the menu.
Brinzano? Sea Bass with a
Chipotle sauce on a bed of rice.
Unsure of my palate, my tongue
slowly shoveled the words out
and I ordered despite my appetite
for closure. We locked eyes for a
moment, and she smiled.
I nodded. Stroked my beard,
and looked toward the truck.
It was probably rude.
A bit pathetic.
It wasn't even you, just your sister.
But a relative of a butcher,
still sometimes smells of blood.
The food, flavorless in the mouth
of bitter reflection wasted.
The wait for the check, ticked
slowly across my spine
and I wondered if you ever
saw the flesh of my posture
in a crowd; If it stood out?
Made you hungry?
Or if you have forgotten,
the way I've been trying to
for so long.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Some Things will End but Memories Last Forever
We do different things in our daily life and may forgot some things before we went to sleep at night.
And most of us have no problem with that, because if we need to remember all the things that we’ve experience every day then our memory will be quickly overloaded.
That would lead to an exaggerated nervous and the possible consequences is give us a psychological complication.
Ends up with many experiences to keep in the forget zone of our brains and we never more thought about it or looked back, because those were things that not interesting enough for us to think back.
This is something very great if we could forget quickly for those bad things which happened and gave us an unpleasant experience in life.
Then all positive enjoyable moments will stay everlasting in the memory of our brain.
It would be very happy for us to only think back our joyful memory with an emotionally smile.
But now comes the not so funny part of our life, with an emotional abuse or bad experiences that hurt our hearts.
We have a separate room (storage) in our brain to keep this bad memory from the worst event in our life.
The bad experience will remain in our memory for the rest of our life and it will haunt us again when we are facing something similar in future.
Because we are always reminded of the horrific moments of life and thereby get all stirred up again in our memory which can give us a bad feeling.
Try to forget those bad memories forever and not to think about it back because it is not worth to lose our energy on it.
Keep only those positive things in our brain, don’t let the negative thinking influence and ruin for our life which give frustrations in our future.
Say Goodbye to the bad memory in our life and only remember things which can give us happiness forever.
I wish you a healthy life.
Author Jan Jansen
Remember me (like this)…
A smile that made your heart
A word that made your
An embrace you only wanted
To be tighter
Please remember me…
Forget the frowns
Forget the pouts
Forget the downs
The angry bouts
Forget the times
I wasn’t there
Forgive me for that
Frigid stare and…
Remember me like this…
A hug whenever you
A back rub…
late at night
A place to go to
When you felt so low
A touch that felt
The provider for the family
Companion always there
Old friend and confidante
Cuddly Teddy bear
Gentle soul with good intentions
A moral man who could not lie
Humble man with no pretensions
A man you can’t forget, even if you try
A stubborn man…I’ll give you this
A simple man…tho’ a bit remiss
A man always ready
with a tender kiss
So when, (and if…) you reminisce
Please remember me
Wet snow just for packing they say
Friends all hyped, full of grins, on a cold day
Four buddies daring one another to take aim
The smallest one made the first throw
Dodging and ducking trying not to be hit
Snowballs bombarding each other in play
Four rosy cheek boys all covered in white
Within laughter, a sound of great pain
The smallest one screamed a very loud cry
A snowball hit him squarely in the eye
Tears flowing, freezing on red streaked cheeks
His glasses were broken, a nose bleed had he
A snowball truce ended our wintry play
All three of us walked him home, chattering away
Today we sit together, thinner hair and a bit gray
Watching snowballs flying by our children at play
A memory we share, friends we'll always be
By Connie Gildersleeve
For Gail Angel's contest, "Tender Years"
i was young and dumb
i say this with a thump
i love rum
and a good fruit plump
no longer am i a folder
OLDER AND BOLDER
as i lay i must say
my mind driffted away
thinking of you
and all you do
as the water splash
my mind lash in bash
it was a task
while i was
TAKEN A BATH
They got smaller as one grew older.
They never truly existed as
Those giant creatures we remember.
They cease to be mere points in time.
They reacquire personalities unrealized by us.
Personalities that were rich and full
And consisted more of reality
Than of our imagined memories…
They become as lonely (and elusive)
In one’s mind: as if seen receding
In the reflection of a rear view mirror.
They gain texture and color even as
They diminish in substance with
The eternal and relentless passage of time.
They too, argued and cried
And built sandcastles in their minds.
They too dreamed great dreams
And suffered sorrows
Grand and small. And then we…
One day this will all become a distant memory
As all memories are
Down to every second of your life
Becomes a memory
Each foot step takes you further away from the past
Having a psychic intution
Knows the future
Stop trying to re-walk old foot steps
Just don't stop trying to discover the mysteries to become whole
My heartbeat echoes a motionless metronome
With only an offshore wind to bring it back home
Inside my mind the weight of my thoughts drone
At once setting the mood the moment the tone
Tracing every wall branding every surface with marks
This is no longer the sheltered haven where my mind parks
I try recall what sent us out of orbit & led us astray
Dunno however this is no longer a place of innocent play
I search for tracks paths previous passages routes to take
The intricate webs stilts steps the uphill journey I make
All the while the library vault is empty overdue & archived
This all had happened long before by the time I had arrived
And all in the silence standing dizzy & still steadily spinning
I asked implored and prayed fervently to karma destiny & fate
To stop the cycle the story & take me right back to the beginning
At once right now hurry hasten & do this before it is to late
we of diffrence race
sitting by the fire place
it was that time
we drink some wine
out side the wind blowed
it was cold
so we stay home to play
SEX ON A COLD DAY
What dreams of beauty or wildest imagination could ever match these wonderful ageless scenes,
Of a fairy tale forest glittering and sparkling in an evergreen mead showing off its silvery pines,
A blue diamond frost bathed in the whitest moonlight, backed by a trillion bright twinkling stars.
The foliage of the trees touched by winter’s magic wand, from an ice queen on a cold January night,
As a boy I saw these nights in the clear sky and it looked like a dome with blue lighted candles,
Reflecting off a frosted carpet that glinted and dazzled sometimes catching a roe deer’s wide eyes
In those long gone days I felt no cold watching a fairy tale wonder of a cold clear, sharp night,
But these moments have misted in my older years, my wiser years, but never completely forgotten.
Speeding to old age wisdom is my gift I was uncluttered and so very much wiser back in those days,
I sometimes try to think hard about my boyhood memory but it needs a clear mind for clear sight,
Taking me back to the meadows in time staring in wonder at those silvery sparkly evergreen trees,
Again I think as a young boy who does not feel the cold, smelling scents from frozen pine needles.
My future is written and I understand why the memory of this night must be so very vivid today,
Because I know when those final moment arrive my eyes gently cloud, and close for the last time,
I will dream a twilight dream between both of my worlds' then soar back upon the winds of time,
To stand again in evergreen woods reliving my moonlit scenes, again still not feeling the cold.
In Memory of Laura Boutchee
IF I had only known the last day that I saw you would be the last day that I would get to
laugh or cry with you. I would have held your hand and hugged you and told you that I loved
you and told you how knowing you brought me more happiness then you would ever know.
Each morning I wake thinking of all the pain and torment your beautiful soul was filled with
and I feel the tears in my eyes, because even in your pain and agony you always had a
smile and a hug to share with those in need.
Your laughter and your smile will always live in my memory forever and a day.
GOD took you home to ease your troubled soul and he holds you in his arms and wipes away
the tears and makes the pain you felt so deeply disappear.
One day we will meet again and share a hug and I will tell what I never got a chance that
day because tomorrow never came.
I love you my dear friend and your memory will live on forever through your family and your
friends who love and miss you more then you will ever know.
Rose M Bauerle 2007
I wrote the Invisible man poems many years ago. These poems, and I have not submitted them all, was for a little girl who died in a road accident. They are a tribute to her memory. It was a dark and very sad time and I miss her so much. The Invisible Man poems are supposed to to show the the darkness of my world, the way I felt. They are very precious to me. Thank you for reading.
The invisible man goes behind the stores looking for some food, by then he has
had enough the bitterness and hate. He thinks if he has happy thoughts he will be happy.
It seems its always a warm spring day when I walk with you down my memory lane,
I remember always holding hands with you as we smile and walk down there again,
The sun is shining brightly with flowers budding along the pathways of the past,
Pointing out little birds and beautiful wild flowers are my memories that last,
No clouds dare to mar the sun's watery glow, which melts into skies of soft blue,
No shadows would dare to mask the sun when I'm walking back in time with you,
From those long ago golden times I remember only happiness and never any tears,
Those were the most beautiful days of my life, the sweetest of all my many years,
For a short while I forget my loneliness the dreadful loss the hurting and the pain,
It’s always spring and happiness when we hold hands skipping down old memory lane.
Thinking of the past makes him so very sad, sadness that comes from deep within,
A wrenching passion that makes him lower his head into his coat to hide his warm,
tears that uncontrollably drip from his gaunt cheeks and splash on his ruined shoes.
Nasty bullying men taunting him and pointing out what he already knows that he is a
cancer on society that he stinks worse than the garbage he rummages through and would
better off dead.He shuffles past these people and leans on a wall Invisible sobs loudly he can't stop.
All the pain and constant sadness is too much so he goes to a supermarket and buys some,
cheap booze to ease the pain. He queues with his bottle of cheap vodka his face still wet
with tears. Everyone moves from his queue to another one Invisible cannot get out of the
shop quick enough. He sits on a bench in the shopping center and begins to drink.
The more he drinks the quieter the taunts are. Darkness hides him in neon light his sadness
is now bearable.He sits with his bottle between his legs and just stares at the floor and
as the booze disappears so does Invisible.
we were on the road
to our holiday goal
our mind became mole
need love sole
let tell you brother
from noon to dust
not just looking
its down home food
greens and rices and bean
its not fake real steak
bring guitar play the blues
teach me i am a beginner
HER'S WHAT FOR DINNER
DEAR FRIEND OF MINE
I wish it never happened;
But it did.
The gentle sighs; the warm smiles;
The soft touches; the spoken words:
All setting our minds at ease
And putting nervousness and fears
To rest; then we parted.
With our going, a void presented its self;
Heart, mind and soul experienced a brevity
Yes we parted.
I wished it never happened;
But it did.
Now awakened thoughts
Generate ecstatic memories;
Ecstatic memories that slowly fade away
Like autumn leaves blowing in the winds,
Drifting on the wings of time:
I miss you dear friend; I miss you.
I wish it never happened;
But it did.
I lay here in the stillness of night
Like last night, the night before
Alone with no one to hear my voice
Echoing in the silence against these walls
That slowly close in each night, tonight, every night
I watch these winds outside my window
Brushing the cold snow across the valleys between trees
And I cannot help myself from wondering
If the cold chill scratches at your window
Whispering in shivers across your shoulders of our pain
Does it echo my love instead?
Does it dream of you like I do?
Does it hold our love like a rose?
Does it breathe across your neck?
Like I do, have done, will do again
I watch the languid snows falling to the ground
Down through the canopy of remembered leaves
A many folded memory they cup fast within
Of you, of me when in these arms you bathed
Inside the rhythms of our hearts beating like one
I shiver within the memory of your body next to mine
Of the way you fit beside me as we two slept to dream
Until dawn broke with pastel shadows across our bed
To fall upon you the Rose of lush and vibrant life
In each moment cast of whispering light from dawning day
I remember watching you in those moments
As if it were this morning, yesterday, the day before
And this memory fills the bed that yawns beside me
Of your waking eyes and smile beneath the first ray of light
When you looked so fragile with a foreshadow of strength
I see you my love everywhere these eyes do fall
In the roses of winter only these eyes can see
I see you smiling in the falling snow bathed in moonlight
In the wind billowing across the twilight earth
I remember you in every shiver to touch my shoulders
Each an echo of your love
Each a dream touching my skin
Holding your soul as if it were a rose in bloom
For this heart still singing of your embrace
And I do, every night, each night, this night
I think of you
And of the day, the morning when . . .
My Winter Rose
I see you smiling
of the night sky,
sit a while outside
my window and
sing your song
Your haunting caw
echoes of stories
brought back from
the battered ships
falling of the
in my head.
the rays of the moon,slicing off fragments of
light from a happier
O, wearied traveler,
bring ye news from
the tinseled and
the tattered remnants
of a moving-picture
Your beating heart
keeps time with
my tears in rapid staccato,
firing off little darts
to make new holes
in my head.
Claps with your hands and sing!
From the place, where I came!
There is no songs,or anthem.
Crossing the seas, oh sailor!
like a spiral line in ascending god's fire,
from mind's house which never age!
Then come holds me to thee,
I who her eyes,lavished that day
in imagination then
summon from her memories:
a song not a melody
A man not a love.
Come oh vanquished
Of all the love and all the wind
Bring to me oh miserly
from the 'mind's house':
What discovered in death,
What you earned,
And what you lost!
It's a time when I write
If (memory eye's) - slept !
It's a time when fanciful
flowing like a light,or
like a sudden downpour, where
sparkling the brooks when float
Or as the dream
creates a paradise of images.
Come! I write eternity
from things I learned,
but never taught her how to claps hands
Where there is no songs,or anthem.