Vanished Like Mist
Now I wonder, ponder, persuade the mind to wander in an abyss of what may be
Plowed and clawed then probed to find a reason for frenetic rumblings within me
As time passed unabated, skin hides pain beneath waves of what these eyes see
The heart trembled: is myopia or enmity reason why I have not found Amy Lee?
Love is not a game man coerces into submission then drags its spirit underwater
Auguring, kneeling, begging will not make it acquiescent to what one may prefer
Precious memories evoked by the hungry heart impalpably depart and disappear
What remains are remnants, reminders of the haunting past...that I had lost her
06/17/2023
Vision of the Seas
Cruising towards Hamilton, Bermuda
The night comes back in flashes,
As I look for the pieces,
Buried somewhere in these ashes.
So what changed that one time?
We were an acquiescent class
Where talking was a crime.
Maybe we had too much to drink,
A mess and an introvert
We simply forgot to think.
Did I say something senseless?
I don’t remember much except
Your hand under my dress.
Oh what I wouldn’t give
To rewind time
To remember what I did with you
And how it felt to look at that azure blue
Soft skies of blue and ivory
Circling the planet of light and ebony
Colored eyes enthralled by the cold of the night
Waving lightning mantled by fright
Winds embracing acquiescent bodies so bleak
Unshielded pillars of the strong, not weak
Grounds bracing the faithful with might
Bounds of serenity awaits so light
From His numen all wonders come in piece
Bodies and souls live and die with peace!
I saw her walking down the darkened gallery,
Beneath unlit Venetian chandeliers,
I glimpsed her acquiescent smile
That never left her lips,
A smile that animated pleasure
And instilled a prick of wonder,
And an expanse of love.
With some embarrassing misdemeanor,
I tiptoed forth and fell in step with her,
I, bold and daring;
She, a feigned timidity in her mien.
Her flared skirt rustled softly against my leg,
And in the silence I felt
Her hand brushing against mine,
Her long fingers curled delicately
And intertwined with mine.
A moment of time, split second of ecstasy,
Our eyes met in a finite profound gaze,
And her lips quivered.
And then.....
All was as before.
Smoothly we drew apart,
Steps never faltering,
As she hurried away
Into a maze of corridors,
To meet her love.
A rose bud of beauty appears on the scene scented full of essence
two cellophane wings clinging to the petals of a sweetie floret
life becomes new again as spring resurges with sunlit liquescence
Springtime jewels enhanced by the blaze of a salubrious ray
glitters of the morning placing us among the living once again
acquiescent rebirth, we can finally envision a beautiful day
Baseball fields, cracking bats and whooping laughter glances
children playing in fields of flowers restored, revived, alive
park bench kisses, moonlit walks and balcony romances
Soon the days will seem much longer, as we stroll delightful
wildlife will re-echo her song, and we'll feel powerful ,
once again.
Ah, to love again, rekindle lustless flame
too long allowed to fade in embered chill
renew within my heart forever's name
empty the space that only she can fill.
Oh, heart, how long the cold has had its way
smothering the warmth of touch or sight
imprisoning in endless gateless gray
love's gentle breeze adrift upon the night.
Must I, in solitude, accept this fate
resign myself to acquiescent fear
or rise and in my solitude orate
in whispered penitence into her ear.
Oh, love, would you embolden me once more
imbue me with the fervor of thy flame
admit that she's the one I so adore
and whisper to myself my lover's name.
1/25/2021
smart acquiescent silhouette —
brittle butterfly
8/13/2020
2-LINE POEM - ziket Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Looking back
curiously acquiescent
in 4th floor chaos
Looking through these
dresser drawers of
sleepy underclothing
Retrospective shirts
and tiresome socks,
these sheaths of self
more coincidental
than designed
Everything ajar,
windows, doors
my dresser drawers
Clues left coyly
in my path
by boorish poltergeists
Half absent,
I impassively apprise their
surreptitious ways,
their secret jokes
on my reclusion
Idle sit the swords in bloodied rust
old glories faded in the long dull blades
lie about cold beauty's savage lives
masked within the scars of victors songs.
Words unbent repent in ploughshare shame
succumb to acquiescent mumbling
rising in the throat of strangled steel
tempered by the stench of battles fear.
Is peace naught but a swords rekindling flame
sharpening both sides of fates cold wand.
©12/2/2019
If you live by he sword then you die by the sword Poetry Contest
thus,
like snow,
cold ashes fall
charred history’s
hubristic gales
truth’s torment
tucked into howling
acquiescent innocence.
Empty men
line the banks
fishless rivers
sit idle
barbless hooks
impugn the air
ivy strangled
rowboats sigh
With age color fades
into the weariness
wonder wanders
among the weeds
joy darts through
day lit darkness
hides hope’s
vacant sunshine
time taints
tomorrow’s tomorrow
the calendar’s lie
tri-colored ink charade
mocking the idleness
of one so busy
last call
nightcap dosage
John G. Lawless
©6/8/2019
..........Draw Me a World......
Draw me a world with God at its core.
Undaunted to be learned in classical
literature!
Draw me a world where a man knows
he and only he, is master of his human destiny!
Draw me is world where living for a
superficial prize, is but a sad vacuity!
Draw me a world where I give to others,
and realize so fully, we are all brothers!
Draw me a world not out to destroy good
leaders, fired up by evil, frenzy-feeders!
Draw me a world, where all children can
worship you in safely, in high acclaim!
Draw me a world, so when the day rises,
I turn my life over to you, totally in
acquiescent and enraptured praises!
5/5/2019
oft times brutal not so short,
but nasty acknowledgement,
(this anonymous, conscientious, efficacious...
frivolous gent writhes at bloody history),
yet mindful premeditated how to be worthy,
and now feels forced to be acquiescent
(as well other citizens might) calling
(er...actually writing), an August
aegis body vowing to be adherent
to codas, doctrine, ethos...adjacent
with government sanctioned destruction,
and indefinite adjournment
of peaceful coexistence with native peoples,
who never accepted unfair (raw deal) adjustment
(most often forced with violence) preceded,
and/or followed by admonishment
of aggressive, corrosive, deceptive...
indiscriminate butchering and adolescent
women and children,
an irrevocable Janus-faced advancement
fate awaiting all aboriginal tribes
fueled by advertisement frequently with bounty
fast forward to present age of affluent
price tag to lobby and or represent
deliberate gerrymandered voting districts,
where trumped up agent orange
iz new black aggrandizement
finds Donny Brooks saturing the media
with proclamation defamation of this very day
stigmatizing valuable news as so subtly "FAKE"!
JANUARY
Joyful bells and pyrotechnics greet the year
Acclamations of the turning of a page
Now we look to future hopes with banished fear
Under brightening days new visions to engage
Acquiescent to what fate may have in store
Reaching forward for the blessings that may pour
You had better wear warm gloves against the hoar!
Those who tell us to be NICE
aren’t
they shout their PC gospel
in your face
while admonishing you for
your rebuttal
They accost each other
like third graders
left alone in the
school yard
and
when cornered
by a simple inquiry
point wildly
SHOUTING
“He/She started it”
for
they cannot abide
the sound
of one hand clapping
insist on offering
validation
of the absurd
with their inanely
unrelated
talking points
they have not learned
that
“sound bites”
leave teeth marks
on the rational
of acquiescent
assemblages
that
wildly waving arms
and grimaces
only serve to remind us
of crazy
Uncle Charlie
and since
we cannot call
a duck - a duck
we nod
purse our lips
look at the list
of cloned clown
candidates
hesitantly pull
the lunacy lever
sadly place the
I VOTED
sticker
in our pocket
having exercised
our RIGHT
our PRIVILEGE
to vote
John G. Lawless
©9/4/2018
Vague contours
your back seen against the evening glow
sliding sun in the window.
Silent statue of indifference.
Mute defense against my desperation
Anxious words try to enter you but
they ricochet and bounce
soundlessly ...... awkwardly
on walls ............ fall unused at your feet.
I feel my way to you with outstretched arms
but they meet wood.
Your bark acquiescent, unpleasant.
I caress you with anguished hands,
but they meet resistance.
Your words flow...
A bright river that ripples melodious.
Rivulets of harmonious sound
towards my hope.
But my hearing-starved words drop off the air
as wooden birds that have forgotten how to fly.
***
March 7, 2017
© Darren White
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