Best Belong Poems
I wander far from the coal-tar smog
and buzzing sounds of the city
to a place where I can smell
fresh-cut hay in a tepid breeze.
I stroll through a woodland path
winding its way along evergreen trees.
Like a silver-lime leaf my heart
settles in Willington waters
I know I belong to the lake.
In distance white butterflies follow
the whistling tunes of an old railway train.
Infront of me set sail long canal boats
Behind me dogs bark,men walk
A grey-haired lady stirs crystals of sugar
in bone-china cups filled with english tetley tea.
The out-stretched arms of dandelions
welcome home foraging honey-bees
A Peak District Chalet in the little mountain village
awaits my return,my forgotten pen
and new sunset dreams
Inspired by my last trip to England.
I was told that I should die, because of the color of my skin.
It didn’t matter what I thought or even what I believed in.
I just didn’t belong, there was no longer a place for me here.
I was told all whites must be killed and our end was drawing near.
I asked what I had done? Why did I deserve to die?
I was told it was from 400 years past and my life was just a lie.
I was responsible for slavery, all racism and his plight.
There was only one reason, it was just because I was white.
There is bigotry and hate in every single race.
I wish that I was wrong, but this is just simply not the case.
Our history is history, our past is gone and done.
We are all brothers and sisters and judged by only one.
I wish we all could love and know what comes in the end.
If there is hate in your heart, then you’re in trouble my friend.
I forgive all who hate me and may have done me wrong.
We are all God’s children and yes we all belong.
That other world
is out there, beyond the quiet
I keep bubbled around me,
the noise growing louder along
the flag strewn streets,
banging drums marshaling
the inflamed minds of the masses.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
I keep my door closed
and curtains drawn to shut out
the anger from a passing mob,
reinforce the boundaries of my home
with walls of books. They have
marched through and littered
all the lovely places
where I once walked, covered
beauty with garish signs.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
Out there, all seems to be
of no worth unless shackled
to a cause. Tribal camps yell
obscenities across the lines
of division and commandeer
their gods to mouth
a sanctioned hate.
Something has gone wrong.
I no longer feel I belong.
And what can I do
but play with a frail voice
and think of what could be
and on dark days,
take hope and defiance
in the gentle arms
of Emily Dickinson's poetry.
Where do we belong Where did We go wrong
Weren't our emotions deep enough to make us stay
I look back in Yesterday I swear I can still hear you play
A latino boy playing his guitar Singing a love song
to a brown eyed girl born in the month of May.
The candle burns no light Our flame has slowly died
No more stars to watch No sweet kisses in the night.
The ardent river of fervent dreams has dried
No cheek to cheek No smiles to greet We left it all behind.
You are not here I am not there
Like a moon at dawn We are forever gone.
Where do we belong Where did we go wrong
Weren't our emotions deep enough to make us stay.
I look back in Yesterday I can still hear you play
A latino boy playing his guitar Singing a love song
to a brown eyed girl born in the month of May.
Promises buried in the sand where once he held my hand
Can't hear his voice In darkling silence now I stand.
Is it time to let us go How will I ever know
If I should shut the door or wait for his return.
Where do We belong Where did We go wrong
Weren't our emotions deep enough to make us stay
I look back in Yesterday I can still hear you play
A latino boy playing his guitar born in the month of May.
A revised repost of one of my first simple lyric poems written way back.
[Verse 1]
Looked out my window this morning
Past the skyline, steel and gray
The Sears Tower used to mean something
Now it just blocks the day
They told me the tallest get the glory
But the view don’t change your name
My tie’s too tight, the coffee’s bitter
And I can’t outrun the shame
[Verse 2]
Took the “L” in, half-awake
Headphones on, just hearing air
Pressed my face against the window
Saw my life reflected there
Last weekend at the Bean downtown
I caught a glimpse of someone else
Don’t know if I imagined it
But for a second, I looked like myself
[Chorus]
Cloudy days, fluorescent glow
Feels like I’m here, but I don’t know
If I ever meant to come this far
Or if I just forgot to go
Cloudy days, and I don’t speak
Light above me, but it don’t reach
And if this is how the story ends
Then I’ve got to write something different
[Verse 3]
She’s on the train most every morning
Reading something old and worn
Looks like she still knows the seasons
Doesn’t bend to where she’s torn
I wonder if she wonders too
What we’re all trying not to say
Would she smile if I said hello?
Or just fade back into gray
[Bridge]
If you’re chasing taller ceilings
Make sure your heart still fits inside
I bought into the pretty pictures
Now I flinch at my own pride
They’ll clap for you in marble lobbies
But won’t stay when curtains fall
You might reach the top by morning
And still not feel there at all
[Verse 4]
I started writing just to feel it
Didn’t plan for it to rhyme
But something real leaks through the cracks
When you’ve been quiet for too much time
Maybe I’ll ask her for that coffee
Maybe I’ll just walk through the park
No headphones, no disguise
Let this silence be my start
[Final Chorus]
Cloudless days — they’re still a dream
But I don’t need to fake the scene
I’m not a title, not a chair
Just a name and breath and open air
Cloudy days still come and go
But I don’t fold the way I did before
If this is how the light gets in
Then maybe I was meant for more
Isn't it strange?
How with time are feelings we
rearange.
When you've taken the time yet it seems they havent
finished the song.
When you've found yourself some place
you dont belong.
So far from that which you were.
So burnt out from life it all seem's
a blur.
Old stories.
shared memories of forgotten glory.
Am I just a loser to ignorant to admit
when he's wrong
have I woke from a well ment
dream.
to find myself some place I dont
belong.
Some place were even the water is as harsh as whiskey.
gone so far I question does anyone miss me.
I wonder have I burnt thoose briges beyond
repair.
as i question have I become
to jaded to care.
So beaten by life it's a losing battle to appear strong.
Life it seems has left me some place I dont
belong.
"The streams are my veins" ~ by Constance La France
I feel
I belong to
the pellucid stream that
gently swerves through the rocks as I
stroll leisurely along the rough ravine;
Warm and vibrant, it heals my soul;
My reflection, I see;
The connection
I feel
Date: 08/17/2022
Submitted for: Let Your Muse Be Inspired - R Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
What have you done to us my child?
I tore my body to bring you here
He wetted his shirt with sweat to ink your books
23 years of learning gave you a well-paying job
Your job gifted you a high held head.
Then what has gone wrong with you my child?
We chose a man to take your hand
We mistook that he makes your life a merry-go-round.
He used your beauty, brain and brass.
But that doesn't mean you have to suffer all the loss.
Did I give you birth to offer you as a prey on someone else's plate?
Couldn't our blood instil courage in you that you surrendered your life to the fear of a demon?
Didn't your red belt remind you that you are a fighter?
Why hasn't your education given you confidence to face life's challenges?
Why hasn't your job given you courage to live an independent life?
The walls of the dark room shouted beyond their limits to stop you
The wooden cupboard tried its best to hide the bottle from you
The locked door tried to break open its latch to show the world your cowardice
The flickering lamp's attempts to ignite your mind proved to be powerless.
When the eyes of your 2-year old search for you in the middle of the night,
how should I tell that the greed of her dad gulped her mother's breath?
When your father madly waits for you over the weekend,
how should I convince him that his bold daughter has boldly ended her life?
When your friends look for a shoulder to lean on,
how should I tell them that you burnt your body beyond recognition?
When my heart wants to kiss your forehead and hug you,
how should I show it the powdered you resting in that copper canister?
I tell all the daughters out there
Your life is not your wicked blackmailing boyfriend
Your life is not your selfish husband nor your greedy in-laws
Your life is not your snatched virginity
Your life is not a dowry case on the cop's table
Your life is your courage, it should stand as an inspiration.
Your life is your identity, it should set an example.
Your life is YOU.
Your life is YOU.
Your blood is yours, don't let it flow for the foolish.
Your bones are yours, don't crush them under their greedy paws.
You belong to YOU and not to anyone else.
I visited a garage sale. And had a
surprised look on my face.
I noticed that some things
were "out of place."
To my right... Was a shelf filled with books..
And Christian ones too.
To my left... Was a sign that read;
"I have adult movies for you."
I wondered and thought with
some kind of amazement.
"Does this person read these books.
And watch this "entertainment?"
This is common in many Christian homes...
Often... People cross God's
"boundaries" and "safety zones."
Anyone can go to church.
Pray, sing and "shed a tear."
Not realizing that sin's temptation
is drawing ever so near.
Do you seek God's holiness and the
power of Jesus' name?
But each night... Before bedtime...
Things aren't quite the same...
Have you opened up your heart
and mind... And live life unfulfilled?
Is this the way you ought to live?
Is this what God has willed?
He desires to live inside of you.
And help you to discover.
With any stronghold in life. He'll help you to recover!
Are things in life "out of place?"
And need to be put back together?
Allow God's word to guide you!
His promises are forever!
Everything will be where it should be...
With Jesus In control!
Only he can defeat the enemy that
seeks to destroy your soul!
By Jim Pemberton
I will not be your puppet in a minstrel show
Because I guarantee no Mammy, Jezebel, or Sambo lives here
You may try to control my thoughts and dreams
But I will not be your Venus Hottentot
As you stare in awe of my beauty through a glass cage
I will not be your freak show
or your gateway to a cultural experience
So please find your own
I will not be your token prize that you flaunt for credibility
Referencing my existence ever-so-often to quench your thirsty guilt
I will not allow you to parade my black skin as a badge of honor
I will not let you touch my kinky locs
I will not let you use my tears to wash away your sins
I will not ‘dance monkey dance’
I will not sing or perform for you
My body is not a vessel for your insecurities
Do not twist and turn my limbs into a web of amusement
I will not plaster a smile on my face while you poke and prod my soul
Because I do not belong to you
An infinity of night for us to burn in our love.
You, my love, a beauty within a silver spotlight.
I shall drown in your beautiful eyes forever,
never to leave the reflection of all my desires,
the queen of all my immortal passions.
The countless stars are witness to the love we share,
My raven-haired beauty you have always been mine
as I have always been yours.
My marble angel, stay within my arms,
soul to soul, our love will sing my lady of night.....
..... as the night slowly starts to fade
and moon hides her face for the day
we stand at this dawn, two shadows...
Cast in the silver shadows of this dying night,
with only the wind as our music,
we dance again, a final time,
into the cosmic waves of love...
Silence beckons with a slow pace,
a last requiem sounding an echo
as we embrace once more,
before we take to casted marble sepulchres...
Cold the slates upon grey skin
and damp the air filled,
with a million years of tears and longing...
.....Behold, my beloved! For again we shall dance
to the violins of night, of love,
as we awaken to the call of each other,
as soon as night will fall...
Yet in my dreams of day, you are with me,
the most beautiful sight within my mind,
held closely, an image of life's beauty.
Yes, cometh the moment and we sing,
we sing into the last of night's embrace,
We kiss and our fire burns for the last time this night.
I lose myself in your marble glory,
I wish not for the rest, yet I wish not for the sun.
The night's glory must end by God's decree.
Hand in hand we walk to our marble sepulchres,
our dance and song they shall ever be,
tomorrow night my love, once more we shall be,
Love shall be ours my lady of the night.....
The rumble of cold marble slate
as sepulchres are drawn shut,
Cuts like a sword into my soul
and leaves me like ice... so cold
This coffin as we slumber
awaiting yet another night...
Oh! How painful is this longing
to walk again with you, and dance
Once more, Sire, to our songs of darkest love.
A Collaboration By,
Morgana VientoLameculos.
&
Michael .P. Clarke.
Vampire: Wampyre Love Poetry Series.
You belong
Stay strong
Fight the demon within
You know you can win
Shed a tear
You are here
Live life to the full
Your are no fool
Fight or flight do whats right
Piece of calm
In this
World of chaos
Breath of relief
While grasping
For a single gulp
Of air
The grounded green of
Spring
Of hope rising
Of life reborn
To the burning passions
Of the flame
Full of power and energy
That can take it
All down
The silence
At 3am
With the moon
In the horizon
To the clamorous city
People making their
Way upstate
At noon
With the sun
Beaming down upon them
All
The balance
Between it all
Where they belong
Rome’s underwater goldmine - traversing history best left upset
I steal into people’s subconscious,
leaving my ideas,
encouraging them
to think they are their own ideas.
Silliness on their part.
They are not that clever.
Only children possibly?
Thinking they are all that?
But wait, can I generalize?
No, for not all children are
treated the same, only or not.
I am coming for you tonight,
in your REM sleep, giving you the
best of yourself; teaching you new ways.
I am your dream, and belong to
no one else.
Not even to you sometimes.
When I prefer to retain my
identity.
Please be not on your guard,
let me in, and relax.
I will be kind and loving.
If I am treated right.
If not, watch out, I can
turn into a nightmare on a whim.
And I will blemish and alarm your
sensitivity like the wrath of the
most vicious dragon slayer.