Poem | |
**Every pace change --is the voice of a poet sharing his/her view**
The phone rings,
The clock dings,
I scream, scream, and scream:
I can’t grasp what is real
I can’t inhale the lives you steal
This game is like murder in the first degree,
I can barely feel the words you're expressing.
Your hand, holding on to mine, as if it was the last
I crawl I hide behind these moonstone walls
There it hid and robbed my Womanhood
Pink is the ointment rubbed inside my diary.
I crawl- I remember-
Looking through a dream, where the woman wears combat boots
Women ready to kill all confrontation with nukes.
I was lost!
Do you know the feeling?
Once you hear, the “C” word your mind starts spinning,
You can’t see what’s going on,
Your smiles soon to be gone,
LOOK AT ME!
On this fright night, I bleed
Hold on tight, of the dead of this night
I’m down on my fallen knees,
A secret I can't keep, no longer need
Breaking backs when I mention the word “C.”
It is like getting struck by a freight train
Taking what belong and makes ME me!
Forgetting the Pink October ribbons, I wore
Taking time to weave them into the last strand in my red chemo hair.
Now here you are,
Standing under the chest
Heavy shoulders a violin press.
No longer needing the little black dress
Skin pink tight leather, now you caress
My eyes are full of tears
Once I discovered the beast came back without fear
The news blew like a missile in heat
With a fire’s shooting out from the dark
Sweltering me, blazing me,
Leaving the world all ribbon tied.
Dimples and pretty lips, I drop the world with beauty and tissues.
Filled with pink ivory issues
This is the way that I feel, I am real… you are a killer, you are a disease!
You can sit there and shatter our lives,
With many of us, you’ll discover we are not breakable like glass
Still, we will walk in high heels strolling through pink valley skies.
With a charm called a Pink Ribbon; -I WORE-
- A heavy pink scarf now I wear like a noose,
Remembering my days have been numbered by you.
I PLEAD FOR MY LIFE?
I have no family to lean on
Everybody’s plus my mother is gone
I have no friends by my side
You are the undead:
Leading some of us into a watery grave
You are like a jack in the box
Hiding until you are found…
You’re silent until your jobs done...
You made us angry, you made us cry, you killed many of us…
However, you will never come close to a glorious ~Victory~
We are “PINK LADIES,” who continue to be strong
I will find a way to sew my chest back to it's caressing view!
One day will find the cure,
And, destroy YOU "The miserable ‘Breast Cancer’ Disease"
"ONCE AND FOR ALL!"
Dedicated to all the females of the world.
((And men whose life touched by this disease))
Poem | |
You keep going down like rain,
A wishing star in disguise,
You cry bloody murder, my face in disgrace
Your lips forever stain,
A smooth dance of manipulation,
Your eyes, hide the truth, like an unseen domain in space
Darling, however, that will never cut what bleeds from a mother's heart
My precious darling, your feathers are in mourning like a flightless dove
Is this to be love, standing there, while I fall apart
Our younger years, display nothing but love,
Like the wonder years, you will remain more precious than a stone
From one betrayal, right after another, a heart colder than winters zone
That never counts as a failure, when it comes to unconditional love
Darling, this pain and secrets were never yours to absorb alone
"My sweet darling, Let me hold you once more!"
My beautiful girl, the nights grow random like sin
Your mind's fast at switching grapes on a vine
Fault, from a mother to son, too much exposure from the sun
Insanity and sin remain, from a mother to daughter
Soaking in salt, that protects me from your loaded gun
A shameful way, to sunbathe your skin like a shooting star
My beautiful daughter, you put my heart behind bars
My dearest cry baby, you're all grown up, these days
Sweetheart, I don't see you running home no more,
These towels will not dry,
The feeling of fresh pepper, floats from the center of my core
Your man made drama, spread out every window and doorway
Leaving the light to reach the floor
-- Once again the sun, has revealed your Judas like tan
Your tears have fallen, one too many times
Here we are, covering every bruise
Raising every brow, in hope everything's gone
Darling, no one will love you, like I do
I still whisper your name, and wish life had nothing to lose
Sweet darling, your eyes are rolling like dice
A small roll of dominoes misleading everyone the wrong way
This time I can't cover your mistake with a blanket,
My little darling, you have gone too far
Your paper dolls aren't cutting smiles from this frown
I've always known your the Iscariot,
Selling your soul for a simple quarter
These tears, were never yours to sell, for at the end,
Our sins, will have more weight than a thousand pounds of gold
My beautiful darling, I forgive you, every day,
I want you to know, I'm Sorry about the things I had to say
I don't understand how easily you trampled our bed of roses
Posing over the moon, in your treason white gown
Darling, Mommy wants you to understand,
My voice, was for your own good,
The knife, in my back's all rusted,
The father clock, continues to stand still,
Sweet child, the allusion you left behind faded long ago
Contradicting your life, with your infamous pretty face logo
My dearest cry baby!
Why the tan lotion, where's your sense of guilt?
Is this another game of child's play?
Darling, it's time to put them toys away,
In the name of Jesus, I pray!
"My Sweet Darling, I need to hold you once more."
Poem | |
No one ever told me that your heart could bleed without a drop that anyone could see. I didn't know your soul could lose weight that your shadow could get thin. I had no idea that there were dry tears that one could shed while sporting a joker’s smile for the crowd.
No one told me you could be naked, closed within yourself, folded and squatting in the black, as your pillow bled white against the dark but I have had those nights.
I know I have walked miles alone left a trail three miles deep in the cement on the street where I reside. I remember and still live moments where everyone talks as if we are in echo chambers and my ears catches every word and my mind never processed even one.
My mother never warned me that love could be so deep. She didn’t tell me that another could own so much of you. I still weep dry ice tears. I still scream in empty fields the wind against my back to mask my wail and hide my pain.
I know I still function perfectly. I still roll the dice , last week I bought Boardwalk and when I crossed Go I collected my two hundred dollars. As far as the board game world knows I’m just quieter than I use to be but fine otherwise maybe even improved.
So in these days of my haze as I function in a fog of loss I replay that moment over and over again. She is gone, she left me in a rage and frankly I was confused because she played the love game until the last moment, until that moment.
I admit I'm ashamed how the crows tear at my flesh just thinking of her with another man. How the sun burns when I see her smile or think of her laugh shared sincerely with another guy.
Apparently she never gave me that. In my blindness I accepted us as in love but she tells me now so many years later how she despised me but never said a word.
Me the fool I still want her I still yearn for her touch. I would chew on nails just to sit with her. Why is my love so deep, so singular? Other people move on. I’ve seen it. She is gone, she wasn't even here those twenty years plus. She wasn't around when she bred our child. Why won’t I move on?
No one ever told me that losing her would be like this. Told me that you could break every bone in your body and it would hurt less than this less than losing her. When I knew she was gone for good when I finally accepted it, I cried until I couldn't cry another tear and then I cried some more.
Poem | |
*I Will Cry*
If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?
I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am never at peace.
Every day I cry for grace.
Every day my tears engrave a large hole.
A rich perfume redolent of rain-
-the only stain in my soul.
What has become of the sun?
Where have all the stars gone?
I am a sinner!
A tapper on the roof,
I fell without angel wings!
A small ripple that splashed into the pavement crack.
I couldn't be saved!
I am a lonely bard
I have no song to sing.
This empty ballad is my home.
A feathers against the dying wind-
-my only expression.
I will cry'
Raindrops from the sky.
Tears from a simple narrow-minded girl,
Water wept into this sorrowful world.
I will cry’
A view you can’t erase,
A window you can’t shut;
Tears you can't brush.
I will cry'
A river that flows into the night of days.
I will cry'
like a child, and nobody can take that away.
I will cry- once more...
No one will ever care,
That I cried!
PS..... Please remember the smell of earth after rain.
Poem | |
Devils deadly dime
The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.
A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme.
Now the world is measured by my blood level.
The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!
He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny,
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.
Poem | |
I went home for lunch,
I never go home for lunch.
When I got to our apartment
I don't know why but I didn't reach for my key.
Francine was at work and I always leave last in the morning.
I was sure I had locked the door but I didn't reach for my key.
I reached for the door knob and turned.
The door was open.
I don't know how I knew.
The moment I entered I knew.
I could feel it,
hell I could taste it.
I started walking but my muscles wouldn't move,
my lungs were grasping for air
for some oxygen
some sweet, sweet oxygen
but I could barely breathe.
“Leave!” I told myself but I kept walking.
Not really walking,
it was like moving through mud,
like a slow motion scene in a movie.
But this wasn't a movie.
This was my life and I could feel it slipping away
from my grasp.
I heard noises!
I had heard those noises a hundred times before,
they were the sounds of an Angel
but this was no heaven
this was my own private nightmare.
The moans traveled through the muck in the air
amplified like the hiss from a distorted speaker.
It mocked me over and over again.
Climbing a mountain might have been easier
but I finally reached the bedroom,
and there they were,
and there she was.
I knew the moment I entered the apartment.
Why hadn't I just turned back?
I could barely see, my eyes were blurry,
covered in layers of my own tears.
I could see her
I knew I had never seen him before.
They were naked and in our bed.
Naked in OUR BED!
How do you that?
How do you cross the line to that extreme?
You'd think the green eyed monster
would control my actions from here on in.
I did see green!
I was insanely jealous but I didn't want to
end up the morning headline in the newspaper.
That monster jealousy was by my side but I took
I'd have to keep him at bay, at least for now.
You'd think I would be mad,
You'd think I'd curse and call her whore.
Being cut open alive must be lest painful than this.
This hacked away at my spirit,
tore away at my self worth.
I felt like a pile of worthless shreds.
I mean my lips moved and words came out...
I think I said,
I'm not sure it all happened so fast,
she never spoke.
I could see the shame on her face
she didn't need to speak,
but I think I said 'Sorry...
I said Sorry and I left.
I wandered for what seemed hours,
it was minutes.
It wasn't like I was meandering to a different drummer;
there just wasn't any music anymore.
I was moving to the rhythm of the beating of my own heart.
Like a broken record it was skipping,
like a broken record it played
in a loop of repetitive monotony.
I suffered in my circled steps
until I couldn't stand it any more.
I found just enough strength
to return to the apartment.
I knew she was gone
I already felt the emptiness in my whole.
We'd never see each other again.
We had been so much.
She was a big part of my life.
She was the love of my life.
I would never love anyone like that again.
So much of her was me.
I thought she was my soul mate.
We let go of all of it.
There is a feeling of betrayal.
A feeling of disgust.
A jealousy that takes over.
I'd never look at her the same again.
Everything she ever did from that day on
would always make me suspicious.
Jealousy would rule me.
Jealousy should never rule anyone.
If you can't trust the people in your life,
friend or lover, you need to remove that
person from your life.
You have to remove that person out of your life.
Trust, is the only gift we can offer.
Friend, lover or stranger!
People can trust me.
My word is my bond.
I let her go,
I really didn't have a choice
I would never be the same again.
She was gone.
She had left a note.
It said Sorry!
We both were.
Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker
Contest Name: The Green-Eyed Monster
Poem | |
I sit here alone...wondering...how much longer this...and in hearing
the question a silent icy fear blankets my body...the answer would
come wearing both masks...tragedy...comedy...this is my life. with
freedom comes death...it hangs over me like a Mexican piñata filled
with chocolate covered blades...so each day firmly slipped into
neutral I exist...barely a choice to live...so I ask myself...how
did I get here...the answer comes thundering from up above...
a dead poet speaks...son that is the path you chose at your fork
in the road... you don't argue the truth...you just throw cold water on
your face...no...you step into a frigid shower...cleanse your thoughts
...stand in defeat happy to feel something even if it is just the pain of
your nerve endings screaming...soaking wet and naked is the only life
you presently afford yourself...there is no one to hear your tears...
what little sound they make rolling down your cheeks...they are not
self pitying but rather wanting...of a loss so deep...what in your own
self appreciation defined you...you want back your art...it...that so
often led you back to the promised land...still you are not that hot
headed fool you once were...you will not stand on the mountain only
to shatter the tablets with their ten commandments...a cooler head
prevails...so you think...like a soap opera...these are the days of my
life...I am strong and vibrant...yes I am and I will walk as slowly as I
must towards my light and yes I will come out the other side a better
man for this.
Poem | |
Insanity or Death
Life begins with insanity~~
~Your soul is kicking and screaming,
Ready to exit with the touch of human hands.
Insanity rides on a gallant stallion ready to pant.
Hides in the mind, mourning its captive soul.
Ready to breach over holding its breath.
Projecting in and out without a guide.
Bites away at the feast, enchants for freedom.
From the lips……….....
Taking length against a world of dilemmas,
Contrasting to a never happy end.
The epidermis cover every wall of insanity.
To live, to eat, and to suffocate it determination without air.
Dramatically hallucination against its will of no wells.
Until it realizes it can drink without water.
No further needs a slumber.
The mind-bends and unfolds to ordinary jolts,
When left to human consummation.
Insincerely bidding and cutting to die in the sleep.
Is how it pleads!
Graves where dreams have no meaning.
Caves where goodness can be redeemed.
A temple of misguided fortune.
All respect lost to this infection,
The patients’ weight distracted from an antidote.
The madness begins too finds admiration-
That makes catastrophe go on and on.
The psychosis of the mind and mockeries of them will never be gone
Dictating in everything wrong,
Layers of cramped bricks, level the isolation.
Death drags its feet off into this infinite helix world.
A source of light breeding out of darkness.
"Sanity is no friend of mine!"
Insanity is earth herself,
Where there is life, there is a reason,
Where there is reason, there is madness,
Where there is madness, there you are,
Lost in darkness................
~Your soul is kicking and screaming
Life ends with death~~
Poem | |
Cleaning out my refrigerator, an ice cube slides to the floor
startling the cat, and interrupting a locomotive of thought
that often tracks me down in a beam of light---
Today it streams through a window, where everything seems marred,
by doubt, and dust, crusts of ice and sticky jello spilled on a glassy shelf.
Oh, not the first time, this revelation of light,
I've had it before while kneeling on the floor as I do now,
and many times that I've knelt on a floor,
to clean up my messes,...
praying for help, praying for light, praying for forgiveness...
and now on the floor to sponge up melting ice, water and tears
Raising a young family...a life so demanding...
Caring and nursing...two sides of the coin...
My father and children....my husband caught between...
It wasn't the impossible...but was never enough...
The time took a toll....why did it seem cold....as cold as the ice?
Could I have held out?.... Could I have been stronger?...
A little while longer....
I shiver with memory,... or is it guilt, and regret? Regret, perhaps shame?
Is it only the chill of the open fridge door?
Or is it more?... So much more?
Hmm, interesting metaphor, "a open door"..........
did I leave it open long enough,... wide enough?
Did I do all I could? All I should ? Was I patient enough? Was I all I could be?
Was I tough enough to watch someone linger,
lingering on, I ponder it now...
Difficult years......but a fraction of life, is how it appears,....
Now looking back.... black fades to gray..
but it comes back in spades, to haunt me today
A little while longer.....
I could have been stronger....
Poem | |
You, most desirable bride among
Your suitors many have been throughout
In every part of the world, you were the one
They were after
You declined their proposals, despite the fact
All suitors, to charm you they have tried,
With great honors and by putting your name
Next to theirs, to allure you to sanctify their
The totalitarians and
Have declared themselves your fervent
Admirers, your ardent devotees to you and to
Your eternal principles
By wrapping themselves in your
Heavenly gown and calling themselves your
But you unyielding remained
You knew that no one has succeeded to measure up
To the ideals your wise father, SOLON,** has set
And to the glorious values with which he
Nurtured you, those superb principles:
Of lack of self interest
Of the paramount devotion to
The common good and the happiness
Of the people you serve!
It is for that reason, you, oh Democracy,
Seldom have shown any favoritism to any of
Your suitors, for all fell short of
Your lofty aspirations
You were, unfortunately, for very
Lengthy periods of time mistreated, neglected, subjugated and
Exploited by your pretenders:
The power thirsty
The war mongers
The money seekers,
Chose to ignore all that you stood for and
Disregarded the common good and the
Happiness of the people they supposed to serve
For to promote their own interest and those of
Ruining the chances of any true democratic
Society to be established
For that reason, oh Democracy, I understand you now
Why a spinster, you, have chosen to
© Demetrios Trifiatis
16 OCTOBER 2014
* Democracy is the combination of two words: Demos and Cratos . Demos means the People and Cratos means Power so Democracy means “ Power to the People.” It will be helpful to read my poem “ THE BIRTH OF DEMOCRACY” for a better understanding.
**The concept of Democracy is deeply rooted in the Greek Psyche! We see it in the Mythology where Zeus, the supreme God, is just “first among equals” Then appears in Homer’s poems but the father of Democracy is asserted to be Solon, the Athenian who was one of the seven wise men of old. Solon, 7th –6th centuries B.C. was the theoretician that established Democracy. Solon considered the pillars of Democracy to be Justice and Virtue. So every politician should be Just and virtuous and his main objective would be to safeguard the wellbeing and happiness of the people and that of the state's plus the wealth to be distributed justly among the citizens. Knowledge, responsibility, self-control, self knowledge, sacrifice, equality, had do be characteristics of every citizen. Plato said that “Virtue worth as much as all gold that is possessed by all people put together and all gold that is still in the ground.” To that Aristotle added that “ every politician has to be forged on the anvil of virtue.”
Poem | |
Underneath all the layers
Of reason and understanding
In passion's pleasure bed of red
Paroxysms of pleasure
Emanate from my core
Searing the shroud
Flames of fantasy's feast burn
Yearning I yearn and lie in wait
In my ambuscade
with the relish to ravish ravaging
Conceived in the throes of passion
My conception is my perception of life
Woven into my being
I’m prisoner to pleasure monomania
Obsession of desire hysteria
My cacoethes: gratification gratified
Thus, I scintillate sparks
Riding on my satin flares
They captivate your stare
You see me
Feeling the heat of sultry flame
You want to play scorch torch game
So your reach out to touch
Mere kindling in my blazing wake
You quake as I slake your florid fantasy awake
Convulsing in temptation’s torment
You combust to lust
Consummating till consumed
Eliciting my passion flower bloom
In opulent oriental room
Gratification’s glory gained
Having tasted my reign
Revived your leave
My image I’ve seared
On your flesh and mind
Branded, you’ll find
Your way back to me
Slave to my passion's decree
You’ll come to me
And I retreat
Enshrouded once more
In virgin layers
of reason and understanding
Biding my time
when sensuality sublime
to bloom in her red flame
Poem | |
Falling from cloud 10 (a self rejection collaboration)
Poet Destroyer, I want to tell you this
My heart is not ready to sing
I will always seal my love to you with a final kiss
So you can always feel you were once my everything
I am sorry I was too much for you on your lonely night
My ego is too strong for you to be with someone like me
Sorry, my heart beat will set you on cloud five away from the light
It's not you my love I need more dots to see
PD, It is not easy to feel overzealous
I became paranoid with this system that glistens
A friendship I destroyed by the thought that made me jealous
P.D., I don't think we could ever be friends I never did listens
My ways ruined the perfect expression of a perfect emotion
Once again what could have been a nurtured affection I ended
You will never again see the moon to my ocean
I will leave you now on cloud 5 hoping you don't feel offended
King Mandalay, you’re my love and will always be my desire
With an endless world of possibilities you will forever own my heart
My heart for you will always burn with an eternal fire
I place my hand on my broken heart to another lonely street
Never will my heart beat feel complete
You were such a gift I did not want to live without
Without you I will go back to my cloud 5 the abyss of delete
I gave you my heart to the fullest, now why so much doubt?
King Mandalay, you spin my head round and round
Like a kaleidoscope ever color will crash above
You dropped my heart from cloud 10 right into the ground
Our friendship connected our fate into a promise of broken love
The gravity between me and you was really true in my heart
My lost emotions will break my unity to survive
You are the devil who ripped out my best body part
My energy will dive back into cloud 5 where life in no longer alive
Poem | |
My God You read my thoughts...
You know what's in my heart...
You know my desires, my needs and my wants;
You know what brings me happiness and sorrows;
You know everything about me.
More than me ever, I know you know me;
There are times I wonder why I need to experience these;
I wonder why You brought me to some places;
I wonder why...
There are times You answer me immediately..
Yet there are times I need to wait..
for a day, a month or years...
I am sorry sometimes I am impatient..
I am sorry sometimes I falter.
And sometimes I become depressed and anxious...
yet despite all these my Father God...
I am holding myself back..
I keep on reminding myself that
You are bigger than anything..
That You are walking with me
and carrying me through all the way...
I know and I trust that in the silence..
You will speak to me;
You will calm my nerves;
You will understand my weakness;
You will give me peace.
And that you will direct me to where the best is....
I have my plans my Father God..
I trust You..
I trust that Yours is better than mine..
I trust that Yours is best for me...
I do not have everything my Father God..
but its okey..
Only I ask...
That please give me more strength...
give me more wisdom...
give me more understanding...
give me more patience...
I thank You for everything..
I know that without You by my side..
I have been long down..
I have been all just a person without a will.
a person meaningless...
a person who is empty..
or at losS..
Thank You for searching me...
I know a lifetime will never be enough to thank You..
Nor what I have is enough to You..
But I trust that despite these,,
You will see me through..
You will still hold me through..
For I believe, You will see my heart...
Thank You very much..
I know and I trust that whatever is happening now..
You are in full control.
Hence, I am totally surrendering all to You.
For my life is within Your hands,
I surrender to You...
June 04, 2014
Poem | |
MEMO for Destroyer Poet A Linda: 3. 20 p.m., 23rd April 2013 – Paris, France
If you are Red I am Brown
If you’re not
Then as one concrete painter using phonemes
Now we speak in the common-denominator tongue
Of those who went across oceans
Yours you took across the Bering
From the frozen solid roof of the world
The common step-mothering-tongue
And the common heel-bone
Take this memo down I tell myself
For my long-lost sister
Now weary with chilblains
And walnut warts from the long trek
Tell her you’re sorry
You took so long
Tell her you read excerpts of her outpouring
In a lone-lost cave overgrown with moss
lost without cause
Mixed with the growls and coughs of shaggy beasts
And the lone mountain lioness’ scowling howl at the stars
In a dry season
Tell her you’re sorry not to have returned the compliment
For this’s the Way of the Community
That each rushes to fulfill a sacrosanct duty
I read your spiraling lyrical threnody
of the Soul’s age-old Odyssey
through the bony interstices of breast-beating moans
Right there where it hurts most
in the guts
I saw how your people lifted themselves
on their fists
after their arms and knuckles looked gnarled
I saw the claws of the lone eagle clutch your soul
in one fell swoop
down concertina centuries
And make you swallow your tongue
wailing in cloistered valleys of lilacs and magnolias
to the rhythm of crescendo stamping feet
and besetting winds
cacophonous through wildly flapping wigwams
I felt the ancient beat of your pulse
in the huskily refined whisper of your verse
come seething harpies
unleashed at my throat
I saw wild stallions
sleek and shoddy manes aloft
come steaming and fuming down mountain sides
your fathers tamed
I saw generations of silent sturdy women
kindle fierce fires
while brawny braves rode away on bare-backs
to bring the venison back
I now hear your gentle voice
in dulcet drops tinkle down waterfalls
of your manifold genres
Yet I do not hear you cry
Nor do I wonder why
You are made of that stuff of breed
That can traverse ice without steed
And scale Himalayas down continents
To reach the other side of impediments
And lest I forget let me tell you this
Your lyrical voice will linger long in bliss.
Every good wish.
Poem | |
Uninvited you come, oh Erato*, muse of poetry, the
Majority of times,
Knocking at my soul’s door at any given moment
Insisting to let you in, your message to deliver
Disregarding at what state my soul is and if she could
With your request comply
Oh, muse of poetry, when with my soul’s inspiration
You are flirting all the time
Whispering in her ears words of wisdom, coming
From your divine essence
My soul, mesmerized, tries the words of wisdom,
Lingering in her depths, again to remember**
A difficult task it is indeed, I admit,
For the language of heavens that my soul, once
Knew very well, now she has forgotten**
Because of her association with her mortal body
For that reason, oh divine muse,
Be patient with her and give her just
A little more time
The time that my soul needs, divine muse, to learn
Or rather to remember
How to talk and to express herself in writing the
Way you would like:
In accordance with universe’s harmony and
Its eternal laws
When this blessed hour comes, my soul able
Would be, poems to compose
Her writings, her creations and her poetic epics,
The work of you would be, oh muse,
No credit would, my soul, claim
She knows very well that only an instrument she is,
Oh muse, into your godly embrace,
Just to be used according to your desire
Because only you, oh muse of poetry, know
The universe’s poetic language should be used
And how, in verse, it has to be
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 SEPTEMBER 2014
* Erato, one of the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (memory ).
She is the Muse of lyric poetry, love poetry and marriage songs.
** Socrates, Greek philosopher 469-399, believed that the soul knows the truth but because of her association with the body, after her incarnation, she forgets therefore what we call learning is in reality a process of remembering as it is indicated also by the name of Erato’s mother, Mnemosyne, (memory).
A poet should always follow Erato’s instructions that comes in the form of inspiration, in order to reach the desired result. This is because erato’s knowledge is unadulterated for it is divine!
Poem | |
You give me the desire
a love for composing
yet you give me
the cross of mediocrity
day by day to know
there are others
who are prodigies
and I must hear
the thunderous applause
while at best
I get the praise
of those who seek to console
my dying soul
I must eat my heart alive
while the words burn inside
unborn masterpiece extrication
I fall to my knees
While I beat my chest
in fervent heat
"Bless me...Bless me...
Make me like him
Make me like her
Make me more than all of these
Make me the best
a word genius
For this love of words will not set me free
Till it is MY name that they chant
My name on their tongues
My name branded on their minds
the Maestro of Word symphonies
Oh, Let it be ME, ME!
day after day
night after night
and in my dreams
I see, I see....
I see them take their bows
I see their work showcased
I sit at my desk
and try once more
The movie Amadeus rocked my to the core. "In it, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was killed by his jealous rival, the court composer Antonio Salieri. Salieri cleverly took advantage of Mozart's fondness for drink, his financial crisis, and his obsession with pleasing his deceased father, and tricked Mozart into working himself to death."
Murry Abraham did a wonderful job of portraying Salieri. There is a scene where he argues with God about the wonderful musical talent he has gifted Mozart, who seems undeserving to him, while HE has to live with mediocrity in musical talent. I can relate. I LOVE poetry. It is my life, and yet...I have to watch as others write so effortlessly and reach the pinnacle of fame. It is hard to do. :( Some days are better than others. On the good days, I'm happy that I can write a poem now and again. On the bad days....I want to cry for not being another Shakespeare....or Donne, or Dickinson, or Gibran, or Rumi, or....and the list is endless.
Poem | |
written 25th Oct 2013
I don't know if human's will ever see
every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
there has to be a place for the poorest
The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story
The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness
Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth
He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...
Poem | |
God Gave You a Second Chance
Not ready to leave this world with unfinished business determining the souls color; you’re on borrowed time! Prayers to heaven and words spoken from the heart brought perspective to what time remained. Fear and regret knowing this may be the end brought us closer than before. Always by your side loving, giving freely would now perhaps help spare your life adding color to your heart and soul.
The soul colored with Hope, Faith, and Love, the greatest being Love! I wonder have you given God what was expected for a second chance at life to color your heart and soul. Color determines the hearts purity and the soul’s condition.
Souls are empty without love in the purest form; if you do not receive and give without fear, shame, or doubt! From the outside looking in many colors of love surround your soul. I pray the love I give you understand the colors surrounding my heart and soul.
Love was holding you when death looked you in the face and love put death on hold! God and I give you Love. How do you face life and death now, with a heart and soul of vivid colors nourished by our love? God blessed us and we know what matters most. You now live your bucket list, God’s too.
Your list will end, mine too. Sharing with a loved one brings special meaning, understanding, and allows comfort taking away fear, pain, and panic. With unconditional love all’s shared. Colors of the soul glow, angels gather, and God gently lifts one unto himself. The guardian angels exit; slowly colors fade, a feeling passes the one left behind as the end has come. I imagine the colors of love in the heart and soul.
Poem | |
. (Dear Mommy)
Amazing grace, how sweet the taste.
A song I dread up to these days.
Mommy can you hold my hands?
Show me how to make God understand?
Hold my hands and show me how to pray,
and maybe than he will listen to the words I say!
Mommy how do I ask God,
If I can keep you for another day.
I promise this time to pray everyday!
Mommy can you share them beautiful and sweet words before you say good-bye.
I thank you for the shoes, you showed me how to tie.
Mommy now what am I going to do when I want to talk and be with you?"
Now who's gonna take care of me when I'm feeling blue?
Mommy Can you still protect me?"
Like them days you defended me, no matter the trouble I was in.
Mommy! That is when you thought me the meaning of sin.
Mommy you always explained the reasons why I was here.
You also taught me, how to face away from fear.
Now how am I going to find my way home?
Are you still going to whisper them words that says, "I'M NOT ALONE!"
Mommy why is everyone offering their sympathy?
Nothing compares to the way your heart was supportive when it came to me.
Mommy how can you make the suffering stop?
Mommy you are all I got.
Mommy I have no cure for what is in you.
All I can offer is what's in me.
Mommy can we go and play outside.
Please hold my hand and take me with you to the other-side.
The place you always spoke of when it came to Amazing Grace.
The sweet surrender resting place..
Mommy I'm here to visit you again.
A place where baskets are offered by family and friends.
Mommy can I stay here forever with you?
Hold me the way you use too.
Mad, and sad you washed away my tears.
Reading a book called "The 3 little pigs."
Mommy can you sing that lullaby song of praise?
Mommy can you hear me?
Digging deep into the ground,
There and only there can you be found.
One last breath, shared with the open skies.
Mommy can I go with you?
*dedicated to my mom*
Poem | |
COURAGE VS. CONFLICT
The history of man defines Ape as a primate.
Man seems to be in that mind-set today.
He lives life as pent because he denies himself religious freedoms.
God refined humankind once before and therefore, he will do the same once more.
The factor ends when iniquity meet perilous world.
The mania of man will bring forth extinction.
In parable, the elderly wisdom was predefined by the life they had lived since the beginning of time.
They had seen themselves within their prime and captured these elements through their way of life.
Their beauty was not a basis to define.
They were primates of mammal and nomadic.
Their skin was olive nonwhite via sunshine.
They hunted with self-made weapons and brought back a feast many times.
However, one male cultivated the mind.
He invented weapons for prosperity.
An abundance of wealth all received.
Today is venturous.
Humankind has crested to another prehistoric image.
Our originations through inventions and development have implemented innovations.
Our minds must continue to reinvent not to become another mandrill.
The core of our existence relies on this.
We are human being and the highest intelligence.
Insofar, we are not predetermine.
Insofar, we are no predestine to a grandeur form.
Insofar, we see no more adjustments that are required for humankind physiological form.
We have peaked physiologically.
Therefore, we will henceforth to inform our mental faculty.
Penned on October 19, 2014!
Poem | |
The greatest miracle in days of yore
unsurpassed, two millennia past or more
a carpenter by trade, Joseph by name
was betrothed to Mary, a virtuous dame
Joseph, proud of his virgin, unbesmirched
beamed when their banns were recited in church
Mary had a visitor who descended in light
when the angel spoke she cowered in fright
"Fear not, chosen one, there's a child in your belly,
You'll name Him Jesus, unless you fancy Kelly."
"How can you be sure? I've not been with a guy."
"Must I spell it out? His father is God most high."
When Mary told Joseph he was caught off-guard
to accept Mary's tale was decidedly hard
his intended, purportedly as pure as they come
was with child from another; a soon-to-be mum
An angel of God appeared in splendor:
"Joseph, to no mortal did Mary surrender."
now, Joseph was righteous, obedient to God
ahead of the wedding date they then tied the knot
his family, deprived of a wedding reception
snickered: "What's with Joseph? This is clearly deception."
The newlyweds were obviously broke
Joseph told Mary: "My wife, don your cloak
We can't afford to pay taxes to them
we'll go to my birthplace; it's called Bethlehem
off they set with Mary on a donkey
for days on end over the hills of Galilee
All the tax evaders had crowded Bethlehem
not an inn in the place could accommodate them
Joseph begged as well he was able
one innkeeper showed them a stable
in amongst animals, vermin and filth
Mary, the Virgin, to our Savior gave birth
she wrapped Him in cloth to protect Him from danger
laid Him gently to rest in a hay-lined manger
Humankind then and now reaps the advantages
that Jesus has come to mend falling bridges
Poem | |
I watched angels fall from grace today
I wondered how could this be
I looked to the heavens to ask
How could this have happened
How could angels fall so fast
I stood there I watched angels falling
I wondered how could this be
For aren't angels a part of thee
He looked down at me and said
"Yes my dear" indeed they are
But you see I gave them free will
When I set them free
Until they come back to me
I felt a tear roll down my check
As I stood in silence and watched
Then I laughed and I thought
HE should of chose me
Then he would of seen
That I would never be
An angel who fell from grace
I watched angels fall from grace today
I ask myself how could this be
Why would the powers that be
Ever let such a thing happen
Then I looked up and I saw me
I was the one falling from grace
I remembered He once told me
You will have free will "till "
you come back to me
So I'll let you be
I watched an angel fall from grace today
But than I realized that it was me
As I looked into that mirror
I saw her starring back at me.
9,13,2010 4pm Monday
Since I was little I've thought about angels falling, must be the catholic church .
Poem | |
Is it alright to inform you that life is a sweet victory?
Is it alright to advise you to look at the world as such?
I am just here to empower.
Is it a prognosis that of nadirs?
You are in the bottom of pits.
To self-esteem from the lowest level,
Is essence found through a depressive state.
I know because I been to this country.
The people in my surrounding meant not a thing.
My depression desired surrender.
I feel that yours is the same melancholy.
Therefore, hoist is this verse.
I commend you on how you are facing your demons to find a greater source.
Is it okay to tell you that insight comes through life experiences?
To know struggle and to know strife, both take a position in the fight.
To apprise the spirit, you must have a defined path.
Thorough is your journey centralized by understanding.
Enlighten by the occurrences you confront, you are the strength to your home front.
The prognosis of nadirs is things must become better.
Your mental capacity states you know-how to express yourself.
The glass ceiling is right above your head.
Aspire for the inconceivable through the knowledge of what is incorrect.
Life is not a bowl of cherries.
Good things are said to come to those who wait.
There is no need for procrastination.
Life is there to create.
Is it all right to motivate you?
Is it all right to send inspiring words?
Of course, you are to gain.
As a woman, you reign.
Penned on November 29, 2014!
For the ONE OF YOUR BEST Contest
Poem | |
One day I started climbing;
without question I climbed.
Until finally I had reached the peak of Mt. Everest.
I wanted to beat my breastbone
yell like Tarzan King of the Apes.
I saw a tree.
was the highest peak.
there was an escarpment,
Once again I...
stairs at the end of the land.
Reached the top of the stairs.
I saw a huge bird.
“I can go higher” I told myself.
I reached up with my arms,
miraculously the bird accepted my hands.
We reached the space beyond Earth's pull;
there my magical friend released me.
I kept floating up
until I reached a tunnel in space,
a hole on an incline that led up.
For an eternity,
The higher I got...
An enormous amount of nothing.
I was going nowhere and I was doing it in record time.
Then I stopped.
I mean I hit the brakes,
reflected on my journey.
Had I done damage?
What was the vegetation,
were there flowers?
I should of gone barefoot felt the land under my feet;
smelled the coffee.
Were those really stairs I climbed?
Was it friends and associates I was stepping on?
I opened my eyes.
The climb was like trying to walk to the end of the horizon.
All leading to more vast “I don’t know what” but definitely up.
“No!” I said aloud.
“So what!” I whispered.
I slid down the best slide you ever saw.
I felt like a child again,
I could see, smell, feel and hear,
I could taste the sweetness of freedom in the air.
I love sweets.
Now, back to my land
I plant myself firmly.
I am one with all,
a Giant Redwood surrounded by other Redwoods.
I am at peace.
Here, at the bottom of everything is my highest point.
I bask in the heat of the sun.
Feed from the richness of the land.
Drink the cold water gifted to me by the skies above.
What an incredible sense of strength I feel
comfortable in my own bark.
Just happy to be rooted.
I am the smallest tree
satisfied just “to be”!
Poem | |
Could it be
That we will never be?
It cannot be
That we played with fire
Without playing the lyre
Could it be
That you are a liar?
Ready to jump into the pyre
My heart does bleed
I am Capricious
In your bed
Always coloured red
I am Anxious
Could it be
That you do not agree?
With my Faith
What would become of me
Should you let me be?
Without my Side
You will truly Hide
Your eternal Pain