Cut down to any size,
Crumble, crop me wrong
Pull the insulation from my heart.
Never will I be "A Paper Doll!"
Thank you for calling me a "Friend!"
Thank you for wasting my "time!"
Enjoy the WALLPAPER display
Layers and layers of lifeless brick,
KEEPS EVERYTHING OUT!
Emotional poster boards of doubt
Envious fiberglass green never seen
Yuletide Carols warped around my energy
Merry and full of acrylic sh!t-
Hand full of putty maintains the makeup on my face
Arts and crafts display my inner fancy grace
Heavy installed Sheetrock so easily replaced
Tough paint chips away silently through the night
Rigid boards transform into fragile crystal light
The greatest illusion blinding reality
Smooth Tiger Skin, texture of orange simple peel
Beautiful mud swirl, L'Oreal.
Gypsum soft enough you want to touch
Dark walls of a thousand words
A plasterboard of discordant grey notes
Blots and clots of ink, slave my skin
Colorless drywall, resilient to your charms
Printed designs of cleverly decorated lipstick
Morbid shadows underneath the ceiling veil
A double coat of Pacific Waterproof Blue-
Printing bags from -- YESTERDAY!
Plastered wounds of cement dries and roughens along the edge
A human made barrier not even God comes in.
"All Children Are Beautiful"
His heart of white deep, shallow wells, yet beautiful
He smirks a grin, with an ego that won't let me in' -he's beautiful
Bastard, of beauty, running ashes without a name
A face with no claim, a young man pounding from shame
What is his sin, he's beautiful!
I want to breathe from his ashes, swim through his veins
I want him to come inside my light, like a good dame
I sing and tell a tale, A Bastard through the night
His eyes, I waged, I was young and poor, I was saved
Lying down, in the arms of my white knight
My hair, he caressed, he came in my light
The furnace burned, the night was fast becoming trite
A lover, he did it well, then went back to his wife
A moment so golden, the ages live, his son is born
Another Bastard brought into this world
Most go into a relationship protecting and guarding their heart
I do the opposite, mine is open wide right from the start
Others have built bricks around theirs, that have to be torn down
I slowly put up a layer each time a hurt makes me frown
With each rejection, disappointment, another layer gets laid
It's beyond my control, swish, swish goes the spade
Unkind words, untruths, the layer of bricks climb higher
Until my heart is safely buried away from the crossfire
Now protected by the bricks, I become emotionally detached
Only now able to see why we were inevitably mismatched
People love in different ways and have different needs
Next time I'll find a matching heart, before I plant my seeds
In time, the bricks surrounding my heart will turn to clay
Then dissolve into dust, for I'm too optimistic to live in dismay
The dust will be eventually blown away by someone with a open heart
And thus be the reason why every other relationship has fallen apart
Lightning flashed, blinded my innocent, trusting eyes.
Thunder ravaged my soul, and forced out my cries.
Destructive winds threatened, ripped me all apart.
Raindrops, the tears that ever flooded my heart.
Dark clouds were ever-present, in turbulent air.
Yet, no winds could stir the flowers in my hair.
No longer waiting for that storm to pass the hill.
I left it behind, and walked away by my own will.
A rainbow shined beautifully, yet arched into a frown.
As every now and then, the rain still comes down.
I have stepped right over you, like scattered debris.
As the sun's rays now light down a new path for me.
For Shanity Rain's contest - "After The Storm"
i am with the roots
sending up my passionate blossoms
as a flight of rockets
Charles Bukowski, Penguin Modern Poets 13
I chose toile wallpaper
in muted blues,
a pastoral scene
that refused to budge.
Pick that, girl,
and you get nothing else
I stood my ground.
Our ninth move
and I only wanted
the repeating pattern
of that old mill.
would never turn.
and nothing was ever still.
my mother lit sticks
of maniac dynamite
which drilled holes in walls,
and drilled holes in my father
more chunks of himself
Afternoons shuttled me
with Bukowski or Plath,
love with lesions,
Evenings, too, never settled,
the wind stayed up,
ripped pages from
But when hell
shifted even the dark into fester-reds,
I crept into pastels...
as untouched as the core of flame,
as motionless as Wedgewood.
"When returning love, becomes to Late"
From her eyes
His name the name
She mumbles silently
3 rivers, 3 years, 2 many tears
She loves him endlessly
Sending her soul
A free feeling,
Finally, he fell
Engaging, equal to the spell
Morning, mountains and more
Move across a new age moon
His heart happily
Traveling towards hers
Dashing dandy, onto her dinner plate
Too long she waited,
She's not hungry, her heart self healed
3 rivers 3 years 2 late
Her tears faded his rusty name
Pleasures of Moving on Moon
You have always charmed us by your beauty, O Moon,
Sometimes fascinating Heer and Ranjha*, and sometimes,
Mesmerizing Romeo and Juliet.
Sometimes you have spread your charms, on the monuments of Love,
Alluring the beauty of Taj*, in the full moon light of Purnamasi*
O, Moon how many faces of Love and Beauty you have,
When you stroll silently on a snow covered maintain,
The beauty and your grandeur becomes envy for the heaven.
For Poets and Writers you have immense stories and inspirations,
For Lovers you are more precious than gold and diamond,
For singers you are like the soul of their songs,
For Boatman’s, you are their sole companion of their silence and turbulence.
While watching you so intensely from earth,
I felt, as if I was wondering on the silver surface of you O, Moon,
Moving and feeling, no gush of wind,
No moisture of Rains and dryness of Sun,
No falling of leaves, in the season of Autumn,
No bending of rivers, flowing from mountains to oceans
No murmuring of birds while mating and chatting,
No change of seasons to engage my mind and heart,
Still I was fascinating to move on the silver surface of you, O Moon.
Walking on your surface was a strange experience for me O, dear Moon,
As I was trying to feel the unique pleasures of earth,
While moving on your silvr surface, O Moon.
Kanpur India 22nd November 2010
Soon I will post this as My Photo Poem with the Photograph of Moon on my Blog and on face
book, which I took on 22nd Nov. 2010
• Heer and Rangha. The Indian Lovers like Romeo and Juliet
• Purnamasi. The Day as per Indian calendar, when we can see the full Moon.
• Taj. Refers to the world famous Taj Mehal monument of Agra, India.
Hold on tight
A journey begins
Not in the crowded city streets
A journey of high mountains
as close to heaven
that you think you can catch the stars
Pack your backpack with sad thoughts
Upwards ... the bag is heavy
I will hold you in your hand
Stop ... take a deep breath
Your journey has begun
Proud high mountains suddenly makes the backpack a little lighter
Follow your feet forward
The air is crisp and fresh
Even if you are tired
Lower your shoulders
I'll teach you to dance on the sparkling snow
Our goal is the top
The backpack feels lighter
Do not give up - we will reach our peak
Heavy thoughts erased
Abrasions and tired feet
Satisfaction - a major force
The goal is reached ... you won
Dance in the sparkling snow ... catch your star
The backpack is empty
The whole world is at your feet
A-L Andresen :)
kneeling down in
a field of headstones
is no way to reminisce -
instead I visit you
through your daughter's smile
A moment in time..
I saw you across the room the other day,
Much like another time when you held my gaze,
Pulling me in with one passing glance
Our longing eyes betraying thoughts, that this might be another chance
This is crazy I thought, we both surmised and laughed.
Looking away, looking back again, can anyone else see what’s going on?
This moment of desire shared between you and me,
Embracing the what ifs and what would be?
Two strangers living separate lives, intertwining paths in space and time
Connecting in ways we could not explain
The thought of one touch occupying all senses
Haunted by the what could have been
If I would have been, the one to say I do
We recently shared a moment in awkward conversation
Trying to be informal and coy, But what we really wanted was to
Wrestle with the deep mysteries of each other.
The woman in you celebrating the man in me
The man in me praising the woman in you, the beauty of you
With your long hair and misty eyes, just something about the way
You look at me, makes my body leap inside, and weep at the same time.
Where were you from? What was your name?
The love from my youth is one and the same,
Has it been that long? Forbidden romance lost in memory
Something of a glimpse captured in remembrance,
Yes! You found me in my misery long ago
Wanting to love me out of a misguided childhood,
Only to be met with at the time, a beautiful mess
We shared intimate conversation, falling for one another
As words fell from our lips, an exchange of hopes and dreams
We fulfilled a need in one another, drying tears from each other’s eyes
For a season,
But momentum drove us on separate paths, on distant shores
I watched you fade away, like a fog across the bay.
Do I have regrets and will I have regrets?
Sure I do, and yes I will,
I didn’t have the words to tell you then, what pride refused to say,
That you meant more to me than handholds on a treacherous mountain,
That your tenderness broke through layers of bitterness left untouched,
And that now, like before you shake the foundations of my very being,
Only you have been able to reach me there.
Shall we embrace this forbidden love? Build a future out of broken lives?
You have yours and I have mine, what will become of us if we pursue?
Sometimes true love is never meant to be shared, if it decimates
The only thing you know to be true, what is real and what is now
And the impact a dream can have.
So when I see you now, at least for the moment I can believe and know
Your okay and that life has treated you well and that you’re happy,
We can find peace in our circumstances, the way we found each other again.
And smile remembering that once we shared a moment in time..