To see the face of earth through angels’ eyes
To lie afloat on cotton clouds ‘neath the skies
And hear noth but the whistling of winds
Which encircle me like soft feathered wings
Too long these feet of lead have held to ground
On stone and porous clay abound
While my spirit yearns to ascend the heights
My bucket list consists of one sky jump flight
To soar the blue skies o’er land and sea
And fly solo as a bird, keen and care free
Where noise and din then become dearth
While my eyes feast on the radiant colors of earth
And as fields of golden wheat sway to and fro
I softly land on mounds of hay below
Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.
Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.
If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!
I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!
Truth that is masked by the heart of a man
Can only explain the start of a lie
A lie so heavy, it spits on your plan
Left with emptiness, your soul on crows fly
Lost while still young, forgotten by the path
Living with shame, that no longer gives pain
Held at the throat by the questions wrath
How dark was made, that ignorant stain
Now you delve into knowledge left by the wise
In order to uncover a truth that was hidden
Burdened with sorrow whilst the nurser cries
Hindered by usurpers who have want of no lesson
Hold on to the railing, prepare a strong mind
For never you know what's out there to find
You were the other side of me.
Like two rivers, joined up in a storm,
forging through our unknown landscapes
full of nature, but with purpose.
Learning, wandering and giving birth to new things.
Leveraging all that passed through our hands.
Until we became separated.
Hardship, mistakes divided our vast landscape
back into two, and we returned, to me and to you.
But we are still connected, I can see you
and you can see me, as part of everything that we do.
Forever and ever, our two rivers will run through…
Until we have travelled down to our next bend,
where we might flow back together again.
I'll be what I must be, in spite of me
as life won't always give the things I choose
and so I have to make what has to be
into the things my life and I can use.
All roads don't lead to Rome, as it's been said,
but some to Paris, and a little fun,
so I will change the path where I would dread
to go to where I choose, when I am done.
I'll not be forced into a better scheme
if I can't see the end result my way
if it's not part of what my heart can dream
it never will come to the light of day.
All things can change, if I have any voice
in what they are, and I will make the choice.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Tainui - that great waka in the sky,
Into the far orbits and blue concaves:
Its Koru and steel gas turbines so high
At altitude above the planet waves.
And on its metallic longrider wing
I gazed the sea and stars, the clouds, the sun...
No man has seen a more glorious thing
Nor behoved a greater journey begun!
For I was lost to the hubris of men,
To the hurt of rage and ravage of woe:
To devils on Earth and God in Heaven
Till the last flight from desolation row.
Thus here I am a longrider who flew
On the wings of Tainui back to you.
Tainui is the name of an Air New Zealand plane.
It is also the name of a Maori tribe.
Waka is a Maori war canoe.
Koru is the iconic NZ symbol on the tail of all its
Airplanes. It symbolises new life, growth, peace,
Preferred by those that know of nothing fair.
Destroyed by sand that blows through consciousness.
Existing in a vacuum of despair.
I left that world behind I must confess.
The wheels of hope extinguished memories.
With every mile clouds would drift away.
Until the devil's valley and disease.
Were lost in natures brilliant grand foyer.
Rejoice, the mountains, rivers of my home.
Forsaken once so young and long ago.
The years have swallowed up the urge to roam.
And age has brought the need to take it slow.
Thoughts now have left me of that evil land.
Here God and nature hold me in their hand.
I'm tired of you becoming just words,
On every page when I write at night.
I saw you as a pretty face at first;
I wouldn't mind if my ink pen dried.
I say it because you're a human being;
These situations are not my type.
I want "I love you" to mean something,
And you stay right by my side.
Honestly, when I write poetry,
The feeling is unconfirmed, undecided, undefined.
You are worth more to me
Than words written down on every line.
I'd prefer to have you in my arms;
Paper and pen will not tear us apart.
©2013 Honestly JT
For P.D.' s "Any Poem Goes #6" Poetry Contest
Young love bird wounded during your flight
Worried now where your companion landed
You sing a beautiful song, but still no sight
Certainly now he must have gotten stranded
The magical serenade continues to no avail
Some concern now for your own well being
This winter flight treacherous you feel frail
The singing stops, you are hardly breathing
One pilgrimage not completed you feel pain
Some guilt overtakes when you start to heal
The flying before your partner was it in vain
Or is there.a bird needing your singing still
Bird of flight your journey is still not done
Heal now, continue to fly for the other one
Penned by Wayland Bunch 2/12/2013
Crown of Sonnets
EVERY SECOND COUNT'S
OUR HANDS AND HOPE'S,
THY INNERSELF, PUTTING TOMMORE,
YESTERDAY;THINGS WEV'E LEARN'T.
SOMEWHERE TO DREAM ALITTLE DREAM;
TO THINGS THAT EVERYONE;
TAKES APART FOR THE SHAKE;
LIFE IS EITHER WHAT LIES;
WITHIN THE PURELY
EVERY HEART BEAT.