Best Andreas Poems
-rearranging the stars-
How could we agree to separation?
If you were destined to be my soulmate,
Why would we allow the stars to change our fate?
They've written in a fresh verse
Sewing in a new song, soon to be sung
The Stars are not to blame
The fault lies deep within our hearts
Like earthquakes wondering through the years
separating silicone valley of tears.
Sweeping sweet dreams far away
What has become of my day?
Today the sun sets holding on to old hope
Tears fall down a sudden slope
Now my dreams are drowning down another road
Tonight I sit under the aspen cold
Alone, no longer in search of gold
Naming nights you whispered words of love to my soul
Your love no longer speaks
Without warning, the Midas touch slowly fades
In my chest - I find fault
The sound of heartache echoes every day
Rejuvenating every crack from display
In plain sight, I search for thee
The sun -The moon -The madness -The Salton Sea
My heart no longer speaks
Everything I dream of sinks like the night
Stuck in quicksand -- the aftermath
Healing scars the aftershock left behind
Finding ways to fill the gloom
Alas bridal curtains sit silently in my room
Setting boundaries between Earth's poetic plates
Like an earthquake passing through my heart
You left like the moon, moving mountains apart
IS THERE SOMETHING YOU forgot TO TELL Me, dear
Suddenly, San Andreas Fault looks tragic from here
Until then I will hold my breath
In hopes, our Plates will meet again
By: PD
6/29/15
Life is indeed an incredible journey
when I was young I grew up in a different place
that place was the cause of many wars
When we left there, I was a mere child and
it was to allow us children the opportunity
for a better life and a chance for normalcy
Yet learning a new language, being ostracized
feeling the pain of being different and carrying
the stigma of being a foreigner was a heavy burden
And were all part of the process of assimilation
of fitting in, of being like everyone else
oft a painful journey both physically and mentally
Years of being different, melding to become the same
and so over time you blend in, the differences becoming
less stark, day by day, year by year
Then as if by magic you are one of them
you graduate high school and college and get a job
you have children, own a home and a standing in the community
You realize that there comes a time to forgive
forgive your parents for taking you from your old home
where you knew who you were and looked like everyone else
Forgive the other kids that bullied you and made you feel unwanted
for they were kids being kids and didn’t know any other way
to accept someone from someplace else
Forgive yourself for feeling the way you did towards them
for in the end we all learn, learn to adapt, learn about acceptance
and learn to forgive.
Andreas Simic©
october leaf that
clings to its branch no fear of
death but the falling
Sending foreign aid just doesn’t make sense
With American families living in tents
Just how many countries rushed to give cash
When into New Orleans Katrina crashed
San Andreas fault runs through our nation
Cross Western states, widespread devastation
Our British, Aussie and Canadian friends
Are the only ones on whom we can depend
Uncle Sam’s pockets are bare; there’s no gold
To back the dollars printed multifold
Countries that dislike “rich Americans”
Always look to us with their outstretched hands
If a mega-disaster should strike Iraq
We’d offer support, say, “We’ve got your back”
And yet these nations would sneer at us still
The debt-ridden states abound with good will
Charity, they say, should begin at home
But to other nations our dollars roam
“Say, buddies,” we beg, “can you spare a dime?”
As out of poverty we seek to climb
It was on a Sunday morning in the village where I stay
Out walking with my dog, I heard some pensioners say
Did you hear about the earthquake, it was somewhere in our State
No magnitude has ever been like it, it's impossible to relate
Quickly I headed home, to view this terrible news
Upon turning on the TV, I'm in horror at what my eyes now view
The awesome Golden Gate Bridge, against an azure bluey day
Lies broken, distorted and twisted, as if it's foundations had given way
The camera now focuses on the mainland, capturing plumes of choking black
Freeways lie twisted and contorted, trains running from their tracks
Gas lines spew throwers of flames, sirens resonate in blaring sound
What was level hours before, have dropped from it's original grounds
Many reporters are now on the scene, as they pan out across the blue
From the helicopter of CNN, Alcatraz disappears from their view
Slowly the island it sat on, as if by magic, now it has gone
Words are heard through the speakers, what the hells gone wrong
The daylight turns to black, a city lies in shreds
Memories of 1906, when three thousand plus were dead
All through the night, tremors came and went
Has history repeated itself, the San Andreas Serpent
I am awoken in the morning, having left the TV on
Panic stricken reporters screaming, most of San Francisco's gone
Where once stood a city, lie pillars of battered ruins
Deep gorges surround them, in bloodied scattered strewn
There's a break in the programme, it's from Yellowstone National Park
The land is starting to rise, incredible is the remark
Geysers that once flowed often, have receded in their shower
Are we about to witness, another of her powers
Back to the CNN studios, more footage of the morning
Towering inferno's in sickened tears, the clock, the warning
I fall to my knees in remembrance of the date
It's December the 21st, has earth met it's fate
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-17.php
I spoke to God the other day
Wanting to hear what he had to say
My ask
What is my task
Why am I here at all
Every winter, spring, summer and fall
The reply is always the same
Make a difference in a life regardless of their name
But how can I do this
When my life has been far from bliss
Why me I express again
Erstwhile checking if I am sane
For I am but one from many a billion
Some who have many a million
What makes me different from the rest
Uniquely qualified for this quest
A drop in the bucket is how I feel
Far from someone who can make this real
The answer is always a surprise
One I forget and have oft to re-surmise
No deed no matter how small
Counts equal to them all
It may make someone’s moment
Or cause them to lament
That they too have been heaven sent
To be the treasure they were meant
Each rain drop adds to the lake
This we should never forsake
Andreas Simic©
Escobar
Columbia was a team full of promise, on the rise
Their relationship with El Padrino they could not disguise
Drug money accepted under threat of demise
No choice take the Gold or your family dies
You’d think choosing money and life would be wise
Yet the result is an entire country that cries
Two very different men with the same last name
One shot dead because his team lost a game
The other a drug dealer who loved money and fame
Many thought Pablo was the one we should blame
No matter who for Andreas the result was the same
The end result brought the beautiful game great shame.
Both men were shot dead but will be long remembered
One for the own goal his unfortunate foot tendered
One for the agony his reign of terror once rendered
Columbia’s soccer teams soul has now been mended
For the whole country I hope their showing is splendid
World Cup soccer contest
17/06/2018
Twas a little piece of heaven in a bigger spot of hell,
Nestled in the bosom of the Sierra Nevadas.
I wasn't sure just what planet I had just landed on,
An alien invader in a strange mountain fold.
Oh, they looked at us with those skeptical stares,
Knowing full well their way of life there was to end someday.
But they took us in anyway, finally seeing our flags were the same color,
And taught us the art of rock-flicking and tree-bending!
Miles and miles of tormented roads and depressed dwellings
Peppered the backs of the manzanita hills.
Pine pitch wafted in my nose in the sunshine,
And cool, sweet water in the faltering twilight.
Like fleeing snakes, the rivers and creeks charged down-hill,
A Pacific grave was the prize at the end of the run.
We found the Red Planet above Prussian Hill,
Waiting for us to be the last of the guard of an older way of life.
The only real laws out there were the laws of common courtesy,
Don't tread on me, and an eye for an eye.
Folks were as real and as painfully set as a re-broken bone,
High-falutin' ways were as real to them as Hollywood dreams.
The summer sun burned the devils out of your bones,
The winter chill froze the snow angels into your flesh.
Funny, I never heard the whistle of a train,
Where were the railroads?? Hell, where were the FLATS??
West Point was pointless, Wilseyville was full of wiles,
Independence sat in lonely forgottenness,
Glencoe, a plaque in the artery of Hwy. 26.
Mountain Ranch and Sheep Ranch sighed in amnesic slumber,
While Mokolumne Hill and San Andreas kept vigil to the gateways.
A part of my soul is still buried in the flesh of those fractured rises and draws,
A part of who I am... there's no shame, I feel, to admit it loud and proud.
So, to the new dwellers who've changed her lovely, rustic face
Into the image of what they deem beautiful and of value,
Don't forget there were lives lived out before you came,
And remember they cleared the way for you and your ways!
Resist the temptation to rush to change a land that never asked you,
And treat her with the respect of your fathers' graves and your childrens' futures.
April 9th, 2014
He calls his work "Storypeople"
His words his art and all.
I've bought so many paintings
They are hanging on my walls.
The beauty that each story tells
puts my mind at ease.
Each poem has an illustration
They come to life as you sit and read.
He can turn a slice of a conversation
into a work of art.
I marvel at the way he touches
everybody's heart.
Some of them can make you laugh
so hard that you could cry
Then you read another
and gently sit back and sigh.
So so many masterpieces
to choose for any occasion
You'll always find the perfect one
to give, releasing all frustration.
Books filled with all of his work
you can buy to read each day.
I turn to a page randomly
Leaving me with a smile to light my way.
the bear yawns
winter hulk blocks exit....
as cub plays
~//~
©27 Oct 2010 Charles Henderson
10 th in Andreas’ Haiku contest
She is the Flower Amongst the Flowers
Like her fellow kind she is graceful as her petals reach for the morning sunlight
Soft and gentle in the cool morning breeze she sways
In that moment there is calmness that belies her truth
For she sheds the morning dew drops like the tears of someone you hold dear
Her long slender neck carries the heavy load which grows with time and maturity
If she had lips one would need to be cautious for she is laced with thorns
Thorns that can stab you whether wittingly or unwittingly and make you bleed
The cuts sharp and piercing and not something to be taken lightly
They will leave you in pain like a heart that has been torn
Her beginning is like most from a small acorn of a seed she begins to sprout
Only a glimpse of what she will ultimately become shows in those early days
But one day her long stem like the legs of a shapely woman will be firm and supple
Time will pass and she will outgrow many of her family
She will be more popular and hold a special place
When selected for meaning in people’s lives
Like the moods of a woman her colors are varied
And carry with them the potential for an array of emotions
The deepness of meaning representing the well of life
Sometimes half full and sometimes half empty but always refreshing
Each color part of a spectrum and the bounty of feelings it can bring
The folds of her blossom are complicated and intricate yet delicate
From a distance she stands out to your eye, her beauty catching your breath
Her shapeliness recognizable on sight like a familiar friend, relative or lover
She is the flower among flowers
She is the rose
Andreas Simic©
The Balancing Act
It is as though I am constantly in a balancing act
I envy those that seemingly do not go through
This process of weighing things in my mind
Those like poker players that can go “all in”
Shove their chips into the middle of the table
As if there wasn’t even a fore thought involved
No, my mind has to go through “the process”
Is this a good decision or bad
What will be the consequences
Why am I doing this
What are the odds of something bad happening
How will the results affect my life
I look at the homeless who wander my streets
Judgment floods my mind
But is there jealousy at the heart of it
Is theirs a conscious choice
To have no bosses, no one to account to
Are they free from the balancing act
What of the daredevils that navigate Niagara falls
Who leap to peril, do they juggle their decision
Or is there absolute clarity of the mind
Pros and cons
Ins and outs
Good or bad
Happy or sad
Mad or glad
The balancing act
Andreas Simic©
Never
Underestimate
Dee
Equipment
For Andreas contest.
Dennis & Jong-un
Dennis meets the president of
North Korea & says the guy is a
good guy…that is,
on a personal level,
he is a human being who likes
basketball---
yet at 28, an age that Dennis has pointed out
repeatedly,
to be young &
unlike his father,
he is still vilified by every media vulture
this side of the San Andreas.
might it not be better to encourage
dialogue of
any kind whatsoever,
with a country that the past puppet of the empire
labeled as part of his infamous
“axis of evil,”
than to continue painting every ****ing person on
the planet &
every country on the earth
that does not agree with what america is doing,
as being
permanently wrong &
in grave need of an
american
“democratic”
correction,
which as we all know
comes by way of life-strangling sanctions,
armed drones swarming above,
invasion, occupation, regime change,
a shitstorm of propaganda
wielded by every media agency that wants to stay on its
good side &
not to mention,
the ever-present threat of a nuclear arsenal that is
greater than any of the countries that it tries to keep from
having them?
when least expected....
standing beneath the greenery
mistletoe kisses
For Andreas contest
"Haiku Me A Christmas Tree"
Placement: Honorable Mention