Best Closes Poems
It's A dark and lonely road now
The road use to be wide
Fitting all your hope and dreams inside
The road seemingly getting smaller every year
throwing out my dreams at will
The road is closing but not completely closed yet
The road get narrower by the seasons
I'm just waiting for it to get rebuilt
Months, years, centruies felt like past by
As I sat my road close crushing my hopes and dreams inside
I have one last effort one last attempt but now
I am to weak the road is closed
and now I'm at a dead end
once again, it is done.
and Dread abounds.
i must re-prepare, they say
and crawl beyond Familiar Words
to make a Home again
for a little while.
and say goodbye
to just-rooted friendships.
i must re-acquaint, they say
and crawl beyond Familiar People
to make a Home again
for a little while.
always they smile in indifference
and offer up token strategies
as the town shutters-up beneath them
and the graveyards go abandoned.
now, once again, i stand before the world
within the full measure of my Isolation.
a cacophony of Choice.
yet i hear Nothing.
“Writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all”
- Charles Bukowski
As Darkness Closes In
With the growing shadows now fading away,
a darkness slowly overtakes my world.
Perhaps it is an eclipse, a temporary thing…
or perhaps the darkness is the end of time.
I now sit alone in my lonely room
with nothing but my faded poetry
to keep me company on this ebon night
as the silence leaves a ringing in my ears.
With the oil lamp glowing on the corner of my desk
where the lines once flowed from within my heart,
I quietly sit with my quill in hand,
while staring blankly at the parchment page…
silently seeking, searching to find
the thoughts that once seeped from deep in my mind
and poured forth in wondrous words and rhymes,
but the once flowing inkwell has now run dry.
My vivid reveries have all disappeared,
slowly fading away into a dark abyss.
Perhaps it is an eclipse, a temporary thing,
or perhaps the darkness is the end of time...
November 2, 2022
Firm, full olive breast a virgin, at twenty three?
Perfect as beauty yet, her true candy
Awaiteth just below...
Purity, smooth as dreams
She beckons..
Shaven, with traces love's,, cream....
Her lips, whom glisten; parting skies; tinted
Blonde tresses curls, tossed to the side such, her joy.
I have always thought
Such ideas to be logical
Thought that a lover leaves,
and leaves room for another
But maybe there’s more to it
A lover leaves,
God throws in another lover
In his critically acclaimed grace of timing
purple horizon
edged in golden twilight sun
oaks tipped in mauve
Cynthia
When The Screws Of Justice Closes In
Najib’s defence team in tatters after lawyers quit
Read more at https://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2018/06/05/najibs-defence-team-in-tatters-after-lawyers-quit/#vdaHtxwXmwUbP1iY.99
Hohoho....
There exists a local saying, about a ladder landing upon him who has fallen....
Meaning calamity strikes yet again for our fallen ex PM....
His legal defence woes are just beginning...
Despite paying top dollars for US lawyers for the trial he is bound to face.....
He has to have a local team to shore up his defences...
Now, this is the second team of lawyers to bail out on him...
Makes you feel almost sorry for the slippery eel he was once seen...
When his carefully selected cronies were in their appointed places...
He was declared being spotlessly clean in his financial shenanigans ...
But with Dr M diligently now holding the reins of the government...
All those specially hand picked appointees are now booted out....
Gone now are all his carefully conceived and well placed protective screens...
There is no longer a crony AG to fend off 1MDB investigations...
No hand picked top brass in MACC to terrorize those who are vocal in condemning him...
Twitter crazy ex IGP of police himself is under a cloud of suspicion...
He no longer wields the power of selective persecution of individuals...
Poor Najib, he must be feeling the noose of justice is closing in...
Even his beloved Rosie has been summoned by MACC for a 3 hours grilling session...
Now when the screws of justice is increasingly biting in...
Beleaguered Najib is being abandoned by his legal teams...
Poor Najib and poor Rosie, for all their looted billions...
Will they ever again get to further spend their ill gotten billions and go shopping...????
Hohoho....
within this barn one has seen the hours long spent
days on end without excuse but always with much content
before the rising of the sun to end of the horizon
cattle here, cattle there and aloft is a American bison.
resting breaks are when you can, no such times
moos of the cows one by one, smother the dusty chimes
daily chores are scheduled and delayed by strolling cows
but never a scowl or lowering of the eyebrows
no able time to visit the park and feed the birds
short trip to the table for chow and dish out a few words
life was there under those lofted bales of hay
no luck for time out to picnic on any day
but seasons change and life becomes a darn
the fields will wilt when a farmer leaves the barn.
purple horizon
edged in golden twilight sun
oaks trees tipped in mauve
Snow appearing upon fertile ground
Wrinkles even more abound
Uncle Sam stealing money from my check
Life is a short seeming long trek
Beautiful women passing me by
Excitement gone and can't say why
It takes a miracle to get hard
The whole body turning into tub of lard
Everything I eat adds more weight
Can't even stay up late
Life closes like a book
No more pages for this old snook
WHEN A DOOR CLOSES
WHEN A DOOR CLOSES
ITS A NEW DOOR OPENING
WITH A NEW BEGINNINGS
AND ALSO WITH BEAUTIFUL TRIMMINGS
THAT WILL BRING ABOUT JOY; HAPPINESS
TO ALL WHO HAD FALL AND WHO HAD FELT SMALL.
BUT AN OPEN DOOR MEANS TO GET ON THE BALL AND NOT STALL.
FOR ALL CLOSE DOORS DOESN'T MEAN THAT'S THE END
FOR THE NEW DOOR THAT OPENS IS AN OPENING HAND TO GIVE YOU AH HAND; ALSO TO HELP YOU TO FIEND FOR YOURSELF.
When the sun closes it's eyes and the stars begin to bright,
I begin to weep ,
As the rain falls leaving tears behind,
Loneliness slowly knocks on my window ,and my eyes
begin to bleed,
Some times I wounder how it feels to be in your arms,
To hear you call me babe,
As my hands undresses your smile,leaving you blush,
am sorry I hope you don't mind if I open my heart to you,
If I describe this love using your body like art,and my lips
as a brush,
Hopefully you can read between the lines,
And see how much I miss you ,
Feelings that hide but in the dark they only shine,
At times we fight with out a clue , please understand am
just looking out for you,
Insults I take which isn't fare, And if I ever get
jealous,that's cuz I only care,
Some times I wonder if I'll ever make it back a life,
Stuck in a world were being different is a crime,
Should I just live the world being no ones type?
Sorry my kind let's there feelings show,
As tears races down my face,
Treat me like an alien,
Yet tho he will never take you up to space,
To see how the sun closes it's eyes,
And teach you how to gaze at the bright stars,
This time you will be the one to weep.
This time I'll dress the sarrow you carry,
And heel my eyes as they bleed
and you register with all the temp agencies that you can,
because there are no permanent jobs anymore---
there may have been when you started working at the plant,
but all those possibilities have dried up
with the rest of the well---
and while at home,
you watch the television,
seeing the pretty politicians in their clean & expensive suits
speak of all their big ideas,
which if you elect them in the oncoming year,
they will make all your dreams come true---
but you’ve lived long enough to know that
“the american dream” is nothing more than the maggot-ridden
excrement that pops out of the mouths of those with
money,
when they ramble on about how this is
the greatest country in the world.
unlike them, whose pockets will continue to be filled,
you have alcoholism,
divorce, spousal abuse,
substance abuse, and maybe even
homelessness to look forward to---
and like anyone,
all you wanted was to be happy---
you took it upon yourself to make your money &
follow the rules of the country that you lived in---
you fulfilled all your obligations,
you lived up to all your responsibilities,
you walked the straight line,
you did just what you were supposed to do.
if only any of that mattered.
Before the door closes
And the night goes to its exile and
Weeper's sleep goes to its right-hand and
Defeated language goes to its hole.
Before the Sun moves its eyelid,
before sadness passes,
before birds and sea, pass
and - horizon innocent guest's -
vanishes with its sins to its ultimate destiny.
Give me a secret of water, fire,
mountain which sleeps in the birds,
river secret, trees,obelisk,
aging dawn and the homeland secret
which on the ash sleeps.
Before the door was closes
Slow down slightly, then pronounce
Word by word my covered face
with love ,fear and language
which lives thousand and
thousands of years on my lips.
Before the door was closes
Carry me on your palms, and muse!
As the door closes
Earthly aromas much like roses
Sour spirits burning sage
As the lone bird escapes the cage
Victims of many pains
Prisoner of many chains
Spreading wings
Winds take flight
With the end
Of the horizon in sight