Life is a beating heart
New born, beating heart
First day at school, beating heart
First kiss, beating heart
New job, beating heart
Physical activity, beating heart
Adrenalin flowing, beating heart
Love at first sight, beating heart
Pushing yourself, beating heart
Taking risks, beating heart
Being scared, beating heart
A beating heart, this is life
Categories:
62, heart, life,
Form: Free verse
What am I really most thankful for, this year?
What is it that is most important to me?
As the holiday season really draws near,
I start analyzing where I want to be.
Towards the end of each year, I do the same thing,
I look back at my life and wonder what’s next.
I love introspection and the moods it brings.
It causes me to put things into context.
Every time, I come to the same conclusion:
Wherever I am is where I’m supposed to be.
There’s no need to live my life in confusion.
The moment I open my eyes, I can see.
Categories:
62, writing,
Form: Rhyme
Believe it or not I STOPPED shaving in 1962
My beard should be down to the floor
Well that's not exactly correct
Trim every couple of months or so
To attract the ladies and boy did that work
Can't keep them away with a weapon
Played 5-string banjo in a folk group in '62
Recorded an album and appeared on TV
So it was required to grow a beard
Although not that all unusual
Have a definite record of it
We were called The Canadiana Folksingers
Happy times!
Categories:
62, music,
Form: Rhyme
My first introduction when I moved in across the hall
Was a lovely older lady, who stood under five feet tall
She came up to my door to say welcome and hello
And to tell me of the neighbours, some above and some below.
She invited me over for a drink, I assumed a coffee or a tea
Vodka, gin or rum she says, of each, i've got plenty
I said rum was good with me, but just a little splash
I watched her a mix a couple drinks, both were half and half.
We talked late into the evening, as she told all of what she knew
Of everyone who had lived there, from now since '92
Sometimes I used to wander over as we lived on the same floor
She pulled a stool to the peephole, before she'd open up the door
I've moved farther away now and I didn't keep in touch
But I do miss our little chats while having just a bit too much
It's been awhile since we've caught up, maybe I should phone
It would be a little different now, since I'm too far to stumble home
Categories:
62, friendship,
Form: Couplet
I was on the second floor
My window open for the breeze
When from below I heard a sneeze
Then just silence, nothing more.
The next day I investigated
The hollowed bush below my window
Within it tidy piles, stacked all in a row
So I waited for the night, breath bated.
I heard the rattling of bike spokes
and careful movements in the dark.
Safer here, than a bench in the park
A cease of rustling, when I went for a smoke.
I wasn't sure if I should say hello
If he or I would feel scared or comprimised
Maybe he knew I knew, I wouldn't be surprised
So we both pretended of eachother, not to know.
He must have found a new place
I hope somewhere with walls and floor
I'd heard my unofficial neighbour,
But never seen his face.
Categories:
62, sad,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
Another neighbour in the building
I saw him from my balcony.
He Twisted up a plastic bag
and carefully hid it, under the tree.
He went back to his car and waited,
Then eventually, drove away.
I waited for hours until it was dark
To see if someone would collect it that day
When no one ever came to see
I gave up and went to bed.
Dreams of what could be inside
Racing through my curious head.
Morning came and I had to know
Of me, my nosiness got the best.
I ran outside and untwisted the bag
To find a very lively nest.
I dropped the bag and ran like hell!
Angry wasps were everywhere!
Now the only part I want to know
Is why he put it there....
Categories:
62, confusion,
Form: Quatrain
This most peculiar man
Who did handstands in the pool
Always in the shallow end
In his speedo, to stay cool?
I've seen him dance in the street alone
This most peculiar man
Or out lying on the public grass
Working on his his tan.
But mostly I saw him by the water
His banana hammock donned.
This most peculiar man
Some of the neighbours, not too fond.
But every warm and sunny day
His feet rose above his hands
Waving about in his speedo again
This most peculiar man.
Categories:
62, funny, home,
Form: Quatern
The scent of linen,
Slacks, creams, leather. Mellow tunes.
Soft muted bustle.
We move promptly to our quest.
In the purse, Mom’s hard won cash.
~
The shoe department...
Always with my size and style.
The well-groomed salesman,
His warm charm sooths my unease
At the cold chrome size device.
~
Brylcreem, tweed, Old Spice.
Soft caring hands hold my feet.
New shoes. Perfect fit.
And now, such memories past
Bring warm solace to my years.
* Reworked version submitted in tanka format.
Categories:
62, anxiety, clothes, emotions, kid,
Form: Tanka
Early season wind,
a butterfly stoop towards:-,
is it to west or east?.
Categories:
62, adventure, nature,
Form: Haiku
I’ll sleep no sleep of death, while I am here!
There’s work to do, I’ll fight, while it is day!
I’ll be your hands and feet, for you are near
As my own heart… your Presence, something fey
And golden as a halo made of stars,
A wreath of laurels, rosemary and bay
Laid at the feet of God. Sing like quasars,
You thrones and principalities of light!
For One has come, in Christ, to lift up Joy!
Injustices loom large, and seem, in spite
To steal the gladness from the hoi polloi
And leave us wandering, alone… the slight
Need not be borne, my love, now you’re in play!
Your Angels come, bring showers of Pure Delight!
Categories:
62, angel, appreciation, god,
Form: Sonnet
Categories:
62, inspirational, words,
Form: Imagism
my head's
in a whirl,
lost..
where am I?
who will
find
us..
is
there enough
time...
run
run
that way
In spired by Theme to 40's radio thriller Dick Barton
Categories:
62, inspirational, music,
Form: Verse
April 24 62 Years young
I am 62 years young
62 years around the sun
37 of those years
I have spent with the love of my life —
this poem was published in Teferet journal's 2018 Poem-a-Thon. Please see their webpage or Facebook page for all the great poetry. Also, check out my poetry blog, Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for these and other poems. Thanks, Jake
Categories:
62, age, life,
Form: Free verse
In the manner of President John Quincy Adams
My inmost soul will serve my God.
He is my sure defense.
He's my salvation and my rock.
I'll not be greatly moved.
Those men who plot for my demise
Are like a leaning wall.
They tumble as a tott'ring fence.
My God will slay them all.
Some men conspire to overthrow;
No words they say are true.
They bless me, speaking to my face,
But in their hearts, they curse.
My inmost soul will serve my God,
My future is with Him.
My savior, rock and sure defense,
I'll not be greatly moved.
(Can be sung to the tune AMAZING GRACE or AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL.)
Categories:
62, confidence, conflict, god, religion,
Form: Verse
Waiting alone in deep silence
only in God for His salvation
this is my rock and my fortress
I stand firm absolutely no hesitation
Man loves to attack His fellow man
battering him made to totter and fall
they’re plan is to bring him down
put him low that’s they’re only call
In God alone my soul does wait
this Lord indeed my mighty rock
rest in His unfailing mighty love
give Him your heart with Him walk
Trust not in robbery nor extortion
even when riches increase leave them alone
at last when God speaks His voice
God’s unique power undoubtedly shown
True steadfast love belongs to God
for God renders to man His due
whatever His work will deserve
only God’s righteousness will exalt you
( this is based on Psalm 62)
Categories:
62, bible, god, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme
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