Best Angstnight Poems
The glass that breaks, by none, my friend
Can ever be joined again
For, cracks remain, as scars persist
And these, no one can mend.
The waves that rise, cannot be tamed
By a child's desperate fist
Or the glare of a noonday sun
Be obscured by morning's mist.
The thunder peals cannot be quelled
At best, you shut your ears
The lightning flash still burns the tree
You see, though you don't hear.
On you walk, your cross seems hard
To bear, you fight your tears
You wear a mask, and smile to hide
From all, your hidden fears.
You call out loud " My God don't hide,
Or turn Your face away,
My prayers hear, some answers give,
My God, please light my way".
As a fly with broken wings
You thrash upon the ground;
Unsure of what you have to do
And lost- no helps' around.
When interminable the night does seem
And the day- eons away,
Blinded by time and unshed tears
Upon your feet you sway.
The fog envelopes you and now
Ahead you cannot see.
You know, a lot you have to do
'Yourself' you fail to be.
Off the sheer mountainface you fall
And yet, you dare to hope
You dare to mouth a prayer and look
Upward for a rope.
I ask You, God; do teach me this
How to smile and not to bend
Though all seems lost, just let me trust
That yes, this night shall end.
Another night, cannot sleep, my mind is too busy, I can't relax.....
A million things to do, no where near enough time.....
Go a night without sleep, try to catch up, no matter what you do, it's not enough....
Trying to get some sleep, all I can do is toss and turn, thinking about all the things I
could be doing, instead of sleeping.....
I just want one night, one night for my mind to relax, no worries, nothing weighing me
down, just one night, just one night of sleep.....
Is that too much to ask?
There have been songs, poems and discussions ad infinitum on this subject, and as
I?ve only received word a moment ago, yes, it?s confirmed now by an affiliate who?s
in know news @ as of eight a.m. est, Last night eighteen thousand three hundred
and seventy four times this sentiment has had divergent ways of expressing
themselves??, here?s my attempt at eighteen thousand three hundred and seventy
five
ELECTRIC PAINS
They told me this would happen
But surely not to me
They said there are certain things life can?t abide
And one of those facts doesn?t come for free
We would go places and they?d all remark
As I thanked God for what they were looking at
But no matter how I prayed, beseeched and I begged
Right beside me on a chair is where my future sat
Everything was the best, everything was great
Everything was everything I ever wanted all in one
One very little package but prized more than gold
And I remember when I could still use the word ?fun?
Now when I say the word ?fun it seems strange and aloof
And I suppose it?s the same thing with the word ?joy?
It?s difficult to talk in terms of things you miss so
Like little Frannie in fourth grade and my favorite toy
I tried to avoid accepting what every one else expected
I tried to turn a cannot into a ?can be? for me
Then one night as I went to turn off the light
Sadly I was startled to see what they see
It was something I tried to ward off for so many years
But with surety in reality there are things a mere mortal can?t delay
Suddenly electric trains and baseball cards became things of the past
Because they can?t stay little forever and my baby leaves for college today
? 2011.?.Phreepoetree
To prove the point of the prologue above you tube ?let them be little? (country) and
butterfly kisses and dream of a child by burton cummings, and I defy any parent not
to wish they had written these three songs?.~f!~
A KIND OF KINDLING
I am taking pictures off the wall
Then taking them to the flame
I am burning each, every and all
Food for a fire fueled by blame
Snapshots that still have the sweet aroma of your perfume
Poses that posed the question can love get any better than this?
Figures and images we hung in the front room
And a hundred scenes of me giving you a kindling kiss
I never let things go but fought over so many paltry things
It’s easier burning photos than the memory of the night she took my name
A night of an angel in white and a man in a black tie and tails trading rings
Further food for a fire fueled by shame
I’ll have to spackle those holes and heal them well
But I am incapable of healing "what’s done is done"
I’ve a legion of sins and there’s so much more to tell
But what’s gone is gone so I’m burning pictures one by one
I will always remember when I first heard an angel’s song
Lyrics of love as two hearts were bound together by desire
But not even that angel could accept all that I’ve done wrong
Disregarding the deepest description of both desire and this fire
There was one day when sky high “up” turned into a dowry of “down”
I didn’t make things simple or let her down easy at all
I simply said “I’m saddling my horse Scout and just leaving town
And Scout is restless so I’d better stop taking pictures off the wall"
© 2011.….Phreepoetree
Frail night falls upon blasted daylight
my irises grow large
as the light
fades into oblivian
and I
wasted from the days' efforts
fall mightally into
deep slumber like that of
a child
Frail night gives rise to endless running thoughts
over and over again
replayed ad nauseum
while I
toss and try turning
to feel the minutest touch of the sandman
upon these eye lids
Frail night
obsessing about my ancient history
churning and railing into the blackness
where all around me
I hear the voices of those dead and long gone
they speak to me
their unfinished business
now my business
as I live and breathe
into the next day.
The Queen of Dillard Holler
By Elton Camp
Dillard Holler is down by the railroad track
Some places the street would be a cul de sac
Except that from the very front to the back,
Every house is nothing but a run-down shack
In that place, Matilda is the reigning queen
She looks like thirty, but she’s only eighteen
Matilda’s scepter is a brown bottle of beer
Her throne’s a chair on the front porch, I hear
And when princely suitors may come to call,
Matilda regally welcomes them, one and all
To the Queen, a bit of tribute they will pay
“Here it is, Matilda,” now to have their way
The Queen wears her dress cut down so low
Neighbors say, “That girl’s nothing but a ho.”
But when Matilda was just a very young child
None of them cared that she was running wild
What might have been the effect of kind words?
But nothing like that by Matilda was ever heard
Her red-haired mother lay drunk night after night
And her bleary-eyed father was at the bar to fight
Matilda, pretty and smart, might have done well
Neighbors and her kin said, “She’s a child of hell.”
Her role as Queen will Matilda ever abdicate?
Or for her can it be, even now, just far too late?
Distopia!
The golden sun of day finds itself sinking far away in mud
And the sky is smeared with darkness as black and gray clouds flood
The skies of fate and destiny
As the black sedates the workers of day to sleep
Day has died and night is nigh
Where the rest of the world is away in their mansions
The torn, left in the cold, make a quick expansion
Into the silent dark outdoors, they patrol
Almost as dark as the burning coal of their soul
In day, they were neglected
Their ideas were deflected
Our creativity was ignored
My generosity appeals without reward
Let the busy bees return to their perfect world
And the torn left in the cold can create a home to head toward
In the silent, holy night
Tonight, the moon shines bright
So beautiful as I sit here alone in spite
And reflect on my personality in fright
In light of this polite, quiet new home I feel tonight
A cold breeze passes me
The cold rain falls on me
The night animals prey on me
No one can see me
I realize that there is no life in darkness
No living in solitude
No reward of any magnitude
As I sit in the shadows, waiting for the sun
And subconsciously realize that the endless cycle has once again begun
We only come out at night
But perhaps, only out of fright
Embraced by the silence that pierces my soul
My shadow, my only friend
Aimlessly I wander this barren place
Not knowing where my path might end
My scars are my burdens that weigh me down
A silent reminder of pain
My reason for living remains out of sight
Too broken to ever complain
The wind often whispers my name in the night
I follow where ever it leads
The darkness inhales my will to survive
Ignoring my wants or my needs
These prison walls of destiny impede my view
My judgement now cloudy and tired
The decisions I make are the product of fate
A reason, no longer required
My future is hollow, its echo unclear
I stumble back into the night
Though wasted time never goes unpunished
I wait til I find the light