Best Behind Poems
Enchanting chambers made of glass
Breaking reflections shatter falling into ruin
The history behind the tears and sorrow of a heart
Fragile echoes inside truth broken always sings
If this be loves beauty like dropping crystals splash
Speaks a language of one thousand tongues when the sparks fly
The soul released from thought
Faraway shadows cover a dream
When you have found what you're looking for
And always breathe in the beauty of nature
Silver buds glisten in morning dew
Millions of years before you or me
Weeping willow hangs heavy over us
These things and so many more
have made you and me understand
Blossoming sunshine shades golden
Crowned kissed by love in the summer rain
What a beauty to wake up to birdsong
Carried on gentle winds when they sigh
Hearing screams from the raven far up in the mountains
Secrets of the water flowing whispers
Our lives have a meaning here on this earth
Stars circle your space in another realm
Thoughts and dreams put together as mosaic
A moon smiles as shadows dances to a joyous tune
The smell of pine needles tickle in the nose
As a sun lights our footsteps with golden harmony
Commitment strong and sense of purpose is the key to life
13.05.2015
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
[Verse 1]
Just another sinking tear
In this river full of pain
Racing fast to nowhere
In a world that’s gone insane
Hope hung herself in silence
Before I got to speak
Now I'm haunted by your absence
And promises too weak
[Pre-Chorus]
They say it gets better
But they never knew the fire
That burned us down forever
Left me buried in the mire
[Chorus]
But it’s alright — you’ll never know
I’m living dead, but I don’t show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind this smile, I hide my lies
Yeah, behind this smile... I hide my lies
[Verse 2]
Everyone’s got the answer
But none of them are right
The blind lead the broken
Claiming they’ve found light
Love — a cruel illusion
A fool’s delight, they say
Left me cold and naked
In the night that stole the day
[Pre-Chorus]
They offer silver linings
While I’m drowning in the grey
Their voices can’t reach me
In the wreckage where I lay
[Chorus]
But it’s alright — you’ll never know
I’m living dead, but I don’t show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind this smile, I hide my lies
Yeah, behind this smile... I hide my lies
[Bridge – Preserved, Enhanced]
Handcuffed by this culture
To a grave of silent screams
Treading water in the shadows
Of once beautiful dreams
Too far gone to rescue
Too lost to even fight
Alone beneath the surface
Under a waterfall of night
[Final Chorus – Lifted Emotionally]
But it’s alright — you’ll never know
I’m living dead, but I don’t show
These haunted eyes still memorize
Every truth I try to disguise
Behind this smile... I hide my lies
Yeah, behind this smile... I hide my lies.
I think of those I knew who’ve passed
And what they’ve left behind,
Impressions that remain engraved
In caverns of my mind.
Perhaps just an expression
Or some laughter we once shared
Or a reaching-out connection
Where our truest selves were bared.
I conjure up some habits
That endeared or else annoyed
Which, for reasons I don’t know,
Have yet to vanish in the void.
We write our wills, bequeathing
What we treasure to our kin,
But the best of us we leave behind
Is what resides within.
The art was most masterful on the dark canvas,
portraying an artist's mind when feeling anxious.
His palette compiled of pastels in shades of grey,
weaved brushstrokes in symphonies pain can play.
His eyes consumed in obsidian thoughts untold,
he splashed secrets he was once afraid to unfold.
Emotions bled as his mind reflected midnight's trance,
but each stroke was a shield against a demon's advance.
Hues of onyx were now replaced by vibrant tones,
as shadows slowly drowned out ignorant moans.
He created a masterpiece of soft yellow moonlight,
as his artistry portrayed bright sapphire daylight.
An avant-garde maestro flowing in textured motion,
painting stars like diamonds in his inky ocean.
Rainbows and sunshine now reside in his realm,
where his abstract art crafts a harmonious helm.
Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much anger,so much mistrust,
Always expecting the worst,
Always conversing about the bad
things life has to offer,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much hurt,so much pain,
Bottled up bad experiences overflowing,
Crying to be unleashed,to be released,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
High expectation,countless plans,
Many things to still achieve,
So many things you still haven't done,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
Is a body,searching for comfort,
A mind,searching for peace,
And a heart searching for true love,
All behind those beautiful eyes.....
I remember living quietly inside these red brick walls,
a soul, wandering alone through those dark, empty halls,
this is the place where I used to rest my weary head,
now you, another poetic heart, are dreaming here instead.
I was just a poet, a soul like you, so do not be afraid,
this is where I once lived, and this is where I stayed,
I want to whisper my secrets to you, late after midnight,
just hear my faded words, and I will remain out of sight.
There was a lonesome time when I wrote poetry, too,
now I am here, to be your muse and inspire you,
100 years ago, I lived on the other side, only now,
I dwell just behind these red brick walls, somehow.
(A sequel to my poem, "These Red Brick Walls")
While in the moonlit night he stood, his crew below asleep,
the captain gazed with knowing eyes upon the ocean deep.
A sinister tranquility was fleeing in the path
of moaning wind grown resolute in showing forth its wrath.
The moon, a pale pearl paradox, stared calmly down at him.
Then angry clouds obscured its face and everything was dim.
Behind the captain’s knowing eyes, his thoughts had grown astray.
They took him to another place where once he used to play.
He stood among the acres of unmoving solid ground,
where waves became tall stalks of grain the wind blew all around.
The first of many undulations crashed onto the ship.
He pictured rippling golden wheat and felt his vessel dip.
The men, awakened, clamored now. He prayed their deaths be swift
and gripped the wheel to navigate a ghastly forceful lift.
Imagining hot prairie sun, he viewed the huge cold swell
that came to bury them. . . and closed those eyes that knew too well.
Written years before it was posted here at Soup on 6/6/2010
Submitted 8/26/2022
for Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 13 Poetry Contest
As I Watched The Fiery Red Sun Slip Behind The Mountain
As I watched the fiery red sun slip behind the mountain
I tossed a silver dollar in the wishing well fountain
My dear wish was for the hand of my very passionate lover
And life together that such bountiful happiness covers
She that tells me, "my darling, my sleepy head, rise thee from bed"
Let us sightsee this world, and watch that huge falling ball of red
Me there pretending not to hear, but my lover knows my game
She laughingly dances right on over and yells out the same
And then she lays a very soft and a long passionate kiss
And that is the sweetest blessing that I did not want to miss
I reached out to snatch my lover into our large silk bed
Saying, "darling let just stay here and make sweeter love instead."
As I watched the fiery red sun slip behind the mountain.
I tossed a silver dollar in the wishing well fountain.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
9-07-2023
Behind the mask there is a frail and fragile me
Enigmas clothed in conundrums; that the naked I can’t see
'Behind the mask is concealed, my authenticity
Examine my history to unravel my perplexing mysteries
Behind the mask it is unseen paralyzing, piercing pain
With arrogance and self-assurance camouflaging the shame
Behind the mask is hidden my true Identity.
Seek and survey the signs of my obscurity
Behind the mask is veiled a heart that’s been broken
Held together by unexpressed resentment and animosity unspoken
Behind the mask is where my insecurity hides,
Like realism wrapped in riddles, you must read between the lines
Behind the mask is where I cover my falling tears
Dig just below the surface and you’ll unearth my crippling fears
Behind the mask there are cloaked secrets unexplained and untold
Decipher the symbols to crack my encrypted codes
Behind the mask you’ll uncover my True expressions
Remove and reveal parodies, and expose the false impressions
Behind the mask, it is hidden, my Individuality.
Not acting out some script of who I’m thought to be
Behind the mask is obscured my, vulnerability
Suppressing the mounting manifestation of the inner me
Behind the mask it is disguised, my true reflection
Underneath open wounds inflected by rejection
Behind the mask rest crushed and shattered dream
Where fear muzzles roaring whispers and screeching silent screams
Behind the mask is buried, my stolen youth
Deception, and cover-ups, masquerading as facts and truth
Behind the mask is where I screen the confusion
Look close and you’ll find, trickery and deception, draped in fantasy and optical
illusions
Behind the mask it’s stifling; it is hard for me to breathe,
The walls of deceit that i have built ,are quickly closing in on me.
I am trapped behind facades of smirks and phony smiles.
So may I please remove this mask just for a little while?
Chiquita Baity
Blissfully ignorant and supine,
Lost in the economy line,
voters don’t have a clue
that liberty is through.
Apathy dictates all else is fine.
People keep telling me how foolish I am,
but frankly I don’t give a dam.
I’m going to tell you what I see.
You don’t have to agree with me.
In hatred’s name Moslems prayed at the mosque,
boarded planes and three thousand we lost,
Soon we elected a Moslem president,
his books words and actions self evident.
To prove he was islam’s extremist hero,
He allowed a triumphant mosque at ground zero,
Freedom of religion is what they subtly called it,
by a government that continues to overhaul it.
The American people look on as if still numb,
singing his praises as if deaf and dumb,
while a pseudo democratic uncle Sam,
in a forced health care plan,
continues to turn out liberty’s lights
by destroying other religion’s rights.
Thus the American people’s democracy,
is morphed into a dictatorial hypocrisy.
While blindsided by a frantic economy,
we apathetically lose our autonomy.
Allowed by deaf and blind voters in a loud voice,
Fooled by not freedom but license they call choice,
sly appointment of people who fulfill the plan,
A long range one by the “new” Uncle Sam.
a champion of abortion, killing future contenders
him and Herod; another of the great pretenders.
“Enlightened Americans have one point two children per family,
because of abortion, birth control and contraception
Moslems have seven; which is the anomaly?
We Americans treat babies as an infection.
Laugh if you wish; I’m just exposing the path,
You “enlightened” Americans: you do the math.
Nobody knows what goes on behind this hotel door
‘Mr Smith’ isn’t with his wife of that I’m pretty sure!
He’s with his mistress Sue, they are having an affair
But he is a cheating love rat and he doesn’t really care
A barrage of fists is flying at number twenty-two
Sally covers her bruises, what else can she do
Her man is a bully and hits where nobody can see
She’s got no one to turn too otherwise she would flee
Harry is all alone since his dear wife has died
He’s desperately lonely but filled with such pride
His family only live on the other side of the city
But are so busy with their lives, isn’t that a pity
Post builds up in his letter box, there’s milk left at his door
Neighbours think they’ve seen him but they aren’t really sure
The police arrive; break down his door and Harry’s lying dead
He’d fallen down the stairs; dried blood lay round his head
Peter is an alcoholic and he suffers from depression
He has bouts of violence, he’s known for his aggression
Since his wife walked out on him he’s attempted suicide
His life has gone downhill since he lost his lovely bride
Little Sally wants to hide when she sees Phil the baby sitter
He makes her do ‘things’ with him, if she won’t he says he’ll hit her
She’s subjected to sexual abuse that no child should endure
But her parent’s are oblivious when they walk out that door
Nobody really knows what goes on behind closed doors
I wonder would you divulge what happens behind yours?
Doors Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
03~23~17
Remembering the days of yesteryear
when family ties were held most dear,
gas lamps flickered in the back street
while most of us danced a different beat.
Tragic alleyways of smog and smut
“Live over the brush”* branded a sl*t,
silhouettes infringe the darkest night
gullible back shift broke the morning light.
Adventurous nights at “Townhead Mill”
eight pints of beer the back porch thrill,
when no meant yes in rapturous skill
to fumigated music from “Nashville.”
Obnoxious libertine this bread man
bay curtain drawn delivery van,
the situation conspired indiscretion
clinical the world’s oldest profession.
Sporting gentlemen in summer bliss
caught first ball costly night on the piss,
pavilion home to moorside drover
many a chaste maiden bowled over.
Partial pilgrimage down “Bolton Road”
black and amber heroes round ball code,
liniment buoyant throughout the room
manly skills embroider the village groom.
Cardinal days steeped in “Rock ‘n’ Roll”
sire in fear of them out of control,
a colossal wedge between cultures
in shadows of decency vile vultures.
Repetitious days of school yard might
the bullies reduced one’s life to plight,
parents queried yet misunderstood
reasons for mayhem in the neighbourhood.
Lad and lasses lost in “Hide and seek”
games of “Stroke a back” every week,
by the old school grounds we all did laik**
now the street is naked for heaven sake.
Why on earth would a mind keep drifting back
this poetry constantly placing me on track,
when life was a role without fame or stars
only toil and trepidation and these scars?
© Harry J Horsman 2013
*Living in sin
** Play
It may be a humorous poem but the message is clear, don’t drink and drive or in Santa’s case don’t drink and fly.
Quote by poet.
Rudolph the reindeer has a big red nose
And it shines so bright wherever he goes
Well, it’s not real; it's a halogen light
That Santa Claus switches on at night.
"So, what's the history?" I hear you say
Well concerns were raised by the C.A.A.
Because one dark night Santa fell asleep
And he failed to hear the warning beep.
A large jet was heading for Santa's sleigh
He woke up in time and got out the way
A witness down below; on oath he swore
Said he'd never seen a man so drunk before.
But at first, he thought it was a U. F. O.
Until he heard swearing and ho ho ho
So, a law was passed that anyone in flight
Display a red light when flying at night.
They let Santa off with a fine and a warning
And banned alcohol 'till Christmas morning
He kept his pilot's license on one condition
That he displays a red light on every mission.
He went to his local store to buy a light
And found one that was red and bright
Asked the elves as to where it should go
And they all agreed at the front on show.
They fitted it first on Rudolph's big head
But it blinded Santa with its dazzling red
They put it on his nose; it looked just right
And glows bright red in the dark of night.
Rudolph asked “ Well, what's in it for me? "
'Cos, he felt silly, but would wear it for a fee
So, a big bonus he gets with extra pay
Plus, the finest grass on Christmas day.
Written on 12th December 2023
Non exchangeable
biodegradable
Given time may be changeable
However
Forever
Insatiable
Thrashing out the tempo of life
Misses a beat when presented with strife
Within Private chambers
initials inscribed
Etched with a promise
None but one can revive
No I'm not kidding , believe what I say.
Step behind the orange line and behind it you stay.
Yes, I'll scan your items from six feet away
but stay behind the orange line until its time to pay.
It's not rocket science, there's a pandemic, its real.
You may not believe it , but respect how we feel.
Stay six feet back and yes its a big deal.
We say it continuously , our mantra , our spiel.
Some of you get it and some are just dense.
Some get indignant and really take offense.
But the lines and the barriers to us just make sense.
When you get too close can't you see that we're tense.
Those lines were put there for a reason you see
and it might stay this way for one season or three.
So listen , dear customer, listen to me.
Get behind the orange line or no sale will there be.
26/04/2020