Best Become Poems

What has become of me?
Like a madman laughing in the rain,
wandering through fields of barley,
where ghosts whisper my name.

Hesitantly venturing forward,
reluctant to turn back,
loved ones desperately hold my hand.
Time is no longer a friend of mine.
I'm aware this path shall be my last,
but I'm smiling...

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I was born a poet not manufactured.
It started with a heart feeling fractured.
Childhood trauma led to built up suppression,
but the soul yearned for creative expression.
For years my poems hid in secret memoirs,
but a battle with cancer left behind deep scars.
Tongue remained silent, but my muse...

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I close my weary eyes
I quake and tremble
The meaning of life losing its hold,
Losing its wonder
In this magnifying, mystifying Sadness

Where is the river, 
Where is the ocean
To drown these sorrows...

The dry formations in this barren land stay tall,
Pools holding life drying in the dinosaur wasteland...

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She is always right and he is never wrong,
Neither willing to concede and the anger rolls right along.
Finding each others faults as they fuel this awful flame,
Both claiming victory when neither will accept the blame.

With clinched jaws and fingers pointing,
Their words so damning, so hurtful,...

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False identity
Union of make-believe
Broken trust
From two-faced love
The time has come
To become one
Back to who I always knew
Loss is life
And love means loss
Even when you love alot
There is no way
To win the fight
When trying to change
This two-faced life
Just become one
Like the Sun
Back to who
You always knew...

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Here 
I Am,
receptive
in innocence;
inner sentience
attentive to each pulse,
without thought interference,
poised in an unexpectant calm.
With our identity vaporised,
we rest in the void of vibrant silence.

In our stillness we feel within movement,
being throb of bliss enlivenment,
the continuum unbroken
lower aspects forsaken, 
nodes within awaken
out of their slumber.
A calm...

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Quote By Poet: "I like to bring my imagination out in writing so you can bring your imagination out in reading."

Books call my name,
the bookstores are not to blame.
Writing books and poems give me joy,
better than a brand new toy.
My imagination and creativity I can...

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Sitting alone she whispered:

“I wish I had Poetry”

A passing butterfly
           Offered her wings
A setting sun
          Its “orange-ness”
The passing breeze
       ...

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Let me hug you, human, and be one being,
Let the stars shine and go for sightseeing,
Let us share smiles under the moon,
Let our children play together at noon,
Let us be storytellers of justice and truth,
Let our people join our energetic youth,
Let us stroll in mountains...

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Admiration For the Person You’ve Become


Don’t ever forget you will always be my little boy
Reflecting in the year’s past of your favorite toy

Was also your security blanket that you always kept near
A mere little stuff rabbit you loved so much dear

If it disappeared, it would...

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To become one

Even if moonlight is broken
and wild flowers wilt
beneath a stolen sun
lost in a twilight song,
sung in off key silhouettes
along a choral reef
drenched in caramel pages
of forgotten ink...

amidst an ocean’s marathon,
waving to popsicle patrons,
melting your heart
in every sweetness now
clinging to shirt tails
of written directions
leading...

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I once was here, then in the blue ocean,
I once was dry, then thrown into commotion. 
I had no clue, for I was in the complete dark,
but I was becoming a GREAT WHITE SHARK!

Just a wee baby was I at five feet in length,
I have...

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So words become; the order of the day
and order of the day becomes
the soldiered meaning of all work and play,
the ever present, beating drums.

Then words become; the lure of the lie
and liars lure every son
with shadows of gold 'til they all but die,
to retire, to...

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Love  is something  that's  hard to  explain. 
You  may feel  overjoyed  and dance  in the rain. 
Love  may bring  tears  that  often come with  pain. 
Your lifelong  partner  can drive...

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They said that she was ugly, fat, and shy.
She went her way to shameful words and sneers.
Ignored or worse by those who passed her by,
She'd weep the dew each night with all her tears.

The caterpillar, few have understood.
In every garden scorned and undesired
Until such time...

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