Alone on a mountain top, she quietly sits.
Looking down below lies a dark pit.
On the other side runs a river next to a valley so green.
Pretty flowers everywhere, it’s the most beautiful scene
Overhead the birds are singing as they all fly by.
The setting of the sun adds a beautiful contrast to the colour of the sky.
Animals on the field playing around all so carefree.
This is the place she calls her own, a place to escape reality.
She closes her eyes for a minute, n the memories come flooding in.
Memories of her childhood days, life then was like a dream.
Climbing on the mango trees, making swings out of old tyres
Hide and seek in the garden and playing with toys made outta wires.
Sliding down the banks with old crates and cardboards.
Not missing an episode of star wars and playing with toy swords.
Running around bare feet n not worried about any cuts n bruises.
Having fun in all our games no matter who wins or loses.
Rushing home after school to catch her fav cartoons.
Sunday morning trips to the beach n been there till late in the afternoon.
Holidays and special occasions always celebrated with family and friends.
She opened her eyes n wished those days had never ended.
The sun had finally set, it was time for her to go.
But she will be back here soon, of that she sure knows.
For this is where she finds serenity, her place to be alone.
A place she feels free and far away from home.
She heads on back, an hour’s drive away.
She felt reluctant to leave, she wished she cud of stayed.
But she enjoys the long drive home as she passes a forest of trees
This is how she forgets about her pain by reliving the special memories. .
I remember the heavy round wooden tables
Built low to the ground,
Just right for kindergartners.
He would always sit close.
I didn't notice.
Out-of-doors on the playground was a giant oak.
He made me an acorn pipe, then taught me how.
I made lots of acorn pipes, giving them all away;
He stood quiet with little fists pushed deep in his pockets.
But I didn't notice.
The sun was golden
Shining through high windows
Down on the low round table,
Particles of dust dancing merrily on the beams.
He handed me a present,
And as the royal blue paper with tiny pin stripes
Crossed the sun's rays
The stripes lit up like diamonds.
Gently opening the paper,
Careful not to lose the sparkles,
I could feel the whole class watch.
I was embarrassed.
Inside was a book about a velveteen kitten.
She was black and feminine.
She wore a pink bow,
And she was fuzzy to the touch.
I treasured that book.
As time went by I rubbed the kitty's fur
Until she was loved slick and smooth.
I don't remember saying thank you.
I'm sure I did.
Surely the teacher would have reminded me;
There in front of the whole class.
Over four decades ago - yet -
The memory of that special gift is as clear and bright
As was the sun beam that day.
And I would like you to know Jimmy Wilson;
That I noticed.
Note: An old kindergarten memory to share with you. Written about 22 years ago.
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
I do not know?
I need you. You are like air I am being deprived.
I need you, the heat of your body, the fire in your eyes.
For you I thirst, you are like water for my soul.
For you I have waited, in my loneliness and cold.
For so long jaded, the hope of love all but abandoned.
For so long separate, sadness my only companion.
How long can a heart live, when broken in two?
How long can my heart stand, the pain of missing
The sun blocked by slate gray wintry clouds.
The sun blocked, the warmth of your love.
Your memory never ending, a constant torturing.
Your memory I hate for it leaves me crying.
Oh to be strong, your prevalence I would cast adrift.
Oh to be strong; the impossibility of this.
A soulmate lost; how can this happen?
A soulmate lost; can I ever love again?
It is insane, you’ve been gone so long.
This is insane, my love for you still so strong
Deep breath to shake it
Cold chill slivers down fast
Beating against cage of heart
Cage of body
Cage of soul
Legs begging to run
Heart aching to be free
Truth to self
aching to be seen
Sweet scent of dry savannah plains
Sharp smell of thorny veins
The aroma of Africa surrounds
Scents sights sounds
In these home is found
Snarling at every motion made
Scared but defiant
Blinded by fear and rage
Paws long for endless journeys
On paths walked centuries ago
For elegance in element
A space all her own
Where earth still bleeds red on horizon
Morning and night
Continuing the endless fight
Fight for borderless freedom
The pale yellow green eyes
Dismays the truth inside
But tell the story
Of wild soul
Story to unfold
I was floating across the golden plains.
I can clearly hear the zephyr calling
An amber veil drapes the horizon's veins
Golden at the warm touch of the sky king
A defiant gaze from the firmament
Physicality succumbs to numbness
I couldn't move or utter a lament
As his light slowly turned into dimness
#1545: MEMORY OF SKY ©Jake Ponce [January 6, 2012, 03:15 PM]
Late afternoon the Karoo-sun battles
with trees and leaves
to be noticed
The shadows dance and play
on the ground
loves charm is a heartly harm
or a reaping barn
that can break the arm
the arms are too weak
to hold complete
without a leak
love is so fruitful
and is never knowm
for a season of fruitlessness
love is a sun burning pacy
the red skies
the sun is gone
and to the sun there is none
but fancy the stars
glittering so bright
and it is our
for we love the sun
but the stars are much more
the lonely heart fears for love
the loving heart loves for more
like it can never be satisfied
as the oceans mark
but it wants much more
like when it over flows
it wants much more i say
and i'll give ie more i pray
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.
Like gleaming gold dust floating in still air,
Sparkling sunbeams silently stream through bare,
Neglected, aging, cracked unpainted walls
That from my childhood, I can so very vividly recall.
In delightful uninhibited childish glee,
I try to grab hold of these lucid illusions persistently.
But these artful dodgers expertly evade my eager grasps,
Like frightened fireflies they swiftly glide away from my obvious trap.
For now, that’s okay though,
Because in my daydreams I know
That one day when I'm all grown up,
I’ll magically capture them and fill my fairy cup.
Entered in contest “Vibrant Verse” sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot