Best Else Poems
I’m the one who needs to be somewhere else,
I cannot stay in one place.
The grass is green where I’ve never been
and never have shown my face.
When I look back on every track
where there’s nothing to entice
me to return to where I never yearn.
You won’t see my footsteps twice.
I’ve lived through drought and I’ve lived through flood,
I’ve been where a fire’s burnt black.
I’ve seen the curse where the locusts’ worse
and the crops are all under attack.
I’ve been laid down in a cyclone town
when winds are a howling gale.
In the shearing shed when the markets dead
and the cheques bounced over the rail.
I’ve no good terms on the squatters land
for he’s never a man to talk,
and he can’t control his angry soul
when a restless man don’t walk.
If there’s sag in my tucker bag
near a campfire I’m content.
He’ll try to rule I’m a thieving fool
so my time with him is spent.
I’m the one who needs to be somewhere else;
each camp is a rainbows end,
where the only gold that I get to hold
is to wake in the morning again
to bear my load on the distant road
for ahead lies my clarity,
that with my charms in the need for alms,
there’s a world full of charity.
I’m the one who needs to be somewhere else,
in my chase for the know not what,
where time ahead guide the fearful dead,
something that I am not.
From coast to coast my eventual ghost
will tramp o’er the trail I made,
which can’t be denied is Australia wide
when I rest where my body is laid.
Perhaps in a row they sit on their chair.
At their small object they all like to stare.
In an upside down world, the room’s silence grows.
They sit on their chair, perhaps in a row.
With both thumbs moving, such dexterity!
Faster than cheetahs their thumbs seem to be.
Some with small headphones also are grooving.
Such dexterity with both thumbs moving.
You utter a word; I doubt they will hear.
On screens, words are better than in one’s ear.
Conversing sans screen they might find absurd.
I doubt they will hear you utter a word.
I see them in class not looking at books
in spite of their teachers’ dirtiest looks.
Tell them to stop; they just give you their sass,
not looking at books! I see them in class.
Their phones are in use all hours of the day.
Do not even try to take them away!
You might be accused of phone/child abuse.
All hours of the day their phones are in use.
I see moms alone with a child that’s hurt,
Not even giving their child some comfort.
Nothing else matters but their precious phone.
With a child that’s hurt I see moms alone.
The cell phone’s their all - their almighty God.
Anything else for them must be a fraud.
Some only text you; they won’t take your call!
Their almighty God - the cell phone’s their all.
When did this begin? Bringing phones in school?
Kids who don’t have them are thought not too cool.
To take students’ phones is likened to sin.
Bringing phones in school. . .When did this begin?
A time and a place there is for all things.
I hate at the movies when a phone rings!
Cell phones at dinner? An utter disgrace!
There is for all things a time and a place.
Sadly, much worse, there’s texting while driving.
If you’re not trying to be surviving,
do it! Your next ride might be in a hearse.
There’s texting while driving, sadly much worse.
Nothing else matters to addicts, I know.
*Every cloud has a silver lining though -
Less actual talking with those mad as hatters!
To addicts I know, nothing else matters.
inspiration from the Metallica Song: Nothing Else Matters
Written April 28, 2016 a
using Swap Quatrain style, a form created by Lorraine M. Kanter and described at Shadowpoetry.com.
If you lived to tell a lie about your true identity then you never lived at all.
Emotionally in the inside you might break down, your not your true self to the world.
They can't figure us out why bother given us a chance in this world, why push us off to the side when we can grow so much closer with love. They dance and sing in the sunshine without even noticing the Storm, we are broken and hurt but yet we hold on. No one lives there, the feeling was achromatic, the pain has faded away, no feeling of the family of love, jut the feeling of all the rage and anger that took place. They point and scrutinize my life, they watch me closely and eye me down, waiting on my down fall but I will not allow myself to be hammered down. Hope is everything when nothing else is around, life is full of dreamers, believers, just everyday people who trying to figure this all out. Help me to find the forensics on his case, twisted problems of life situations, we never turn our back on each other, the unforgettable touch, the first and last kiss, around and around we go. The past of mistakes, the learning process as I go, I will show my true identity to the world. Love or hate me, live to die, we all will die to this world.
Love is the beauty of all.
There’s coming a time of great cheer
when folks will drink gallons of beer
tell tales of wee sprites
and magical sights.
St. Patrick’s Day soon will be here.
On that day, if you don’t wear green,
just stay in your house. Don’t be seen,
or else a hard pinch
might cause you to flinch.
Some pinchers can be downright mean!
Song: Nothing Else Matters
Cliché: The Writing On the Wall
Image: Clock
Your love, the orbit that I’ve always sought
A constant star’s warm illumination
For endless decades, searched and fought
Soul salve, this reassuring sensation
Fate’s clock may wind down its final minutes
And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be
Nothing else matters, even if we’re finished
Just having you next to me
The truth is embossed on the wall of time
For all to read if they so choose
We never know the final chime
If love we cherish, no time to lose
Our eternal backdrop, fate’s invisible clock
In this light of day, all illusions shatter
We build our base on love’s solid rock
Because in the end, nothing else matters
5/10/16
For contest: Lyrics Cliché Image
Sponsor: Silent One
No one else exists
A crowded city street
strolling a narrow sidewalk,
your hand in mine
Pastel neon lights paint the buildings
in soothing colors,
softening sharp edges,
creating a wonderland
on this cool winter night
A small bistro, street side tables
candle light and tablecloths
tiny dancing flames on white linen
igniting your smile as we take a seat
amidst the din of taxi cabs
racing to find the sunset,
lover’s fare put to good use
in backseat desires
Two glasses of Pinot,
fine crystal offerings
as are your eyes, glistening,
dark chocolate petals
calling me in, hypnotized
free falling into your heart
and I drink them in slowly,
tasting every tantalizing gaze
A toast to us, touching glasses,
touching hearts, changing lives
as I wonder what I have done
to deserve this dream, you and me,
no one else exists, the city bustles
unnoticed as we sip the fruits
of our love on a chilly evening
hoping it never ends…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…and as the clock strikes midnight,
a joyous noise rings out, streamers flutter in the wind
while fireworks dazzle the skies
and I raise my glass to my friends at Poetrysoup,
wishing them all the happiest New Year!
Freedom differs on how each men define it,
like the love of autumn or cold of winter.
Vast it may be but meaning is implicit,
so vast that no soul can ever hinder.
I define liberty as a pen and paper.
Mere it is , but my understanding is sure.
What is simple for you, to me strikes deeper.
Thin a paper be , but it lasts to endure.
The glory of ink is immeasurable,
for a tender soul of mine to comprehend.
Though age has numbers, I am an example,
of a generation's hope for we to ascend.
May the world be courageous to project art.
Like this sonnet , this is where I start.
2/4/19
"Nothing Else To Add"
Thinking clearly
I wrote this sincerely
From the one you regard dearly
Nearly
Everybody having theories
Times getting eerie
Yearly
It didn't always turn out ideally
She really
Wanted to get touchy and feely
Telling me how she could heal me
After I did some wheelies
Next she said feel free
To take her up on the deal and see
Soon she'd reveal the key
For both parties it was beneficial
And rather simple
Not no piffle
Yeah I said it
There's no need to edit
It's becoming pathetic
Far too many
Being petty
Filled with envy
Get ahead or fall behind
On the move, or soon to unwind
Saw it coming, or being blind
Struggling, or doing fine
Missing or seeing the sign
Not thinking or using your mind
Being rude or kind
Can't be sad
Had
To get after what I didn't have
No matter if I was doing bad
Sure , life can be sad
But I'm not staying mad
I got to give it a stab
If it's something I want to grab
Still glad
I don't care about any fad
There's nothing else to add
Your calling my name once again.
My heart flutters with excitement.
You got me where you want me.
The butterfly's in my stomach are trying to burst out.
My body reacts to you.
I have no idea why.
But every time your around
My heart skips a beat.
Your gaze lights me on fire.
My voice grows weak.
You have me backed against a wall.
There's no where else I'd rather be.
Someone and Someone Else
Someone need someone else's name
To call out like a hymn everyday
Someone need someone else's eyes
To look up at the stare submerged in galaxies
Someone need someone else's smile
To bloom the white flower on the faded face
Someone need someone else's hand
To hold on when deep misery is pulling out
Someone need someone else's shoulder
To put the head playing loud voices
Someone need someone else's arms
To rise up the heaven's light in the heavy heart
If that someone is me
Then who is that someone else?
Is that you?
A falling star met butter fingers,
kissed the pavement rain,
scorched threadbare pocket cloth,
dream vapour in the wet.
Dark smoke was all it brought
to dreary eyes of pain,
and tears crept with sloth
ancient as the sky.
Fresh bile around the grilles,
steaming sweet purgation,
foretell a future day
by entrails of clairvoyance.
A seeing eye fulfils
my blind imagination,
all cats by night are grey,
analogous charcoal shapes.
Someplace else, another room,
where I can spread like plague,
or go unnoticed, lean
old driftwood on the bar.
Sometimes you leave perfume,
a promise bloused and vague,
to linger sight unseen,
I sling my hook to home...
...where you supplant the reasons,
a spell invoked and blissed,
to conjure my induction,
becalm my raging sails.
My angel for all seasons,
components sorely missed,
in spite of this reduction,
no less my world, my love.
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.
Last night I had a dream
to give to you this song I'd sing
Tho on my mind was someone else
But there were you from off my shelf
So here I am to write to you
that poetry so long overdue
The walls of life were
so high and wide
But feelings are emotions
dictated by the eye's
The dragons that guarded
your tower so high
Responsibility and honor
were reasons to hide
Yet even now
those feelings they stayed
forever in my heart
the beauty it weighs
The eye's, the hair,
and guiltless tones
No reason was ever given
to leave you alone
Never in your actions
would harm I'd see
No rumors infractions
almost sin free
A lasting attraction
you'd always be
Little girls play with dolls
And in a way boys do too
Countless were days and nights
my doll would be you
But always in reality
I could never persue
That higher class fatality
inner feeling I saw as you
In a sad existance
shyness always reigns
Your nothing but a pauper
To a princess your just a stain
But here I am now
with feeling I've not outgrown
I imagin now we both know these feelings
I've only slightly shown
This morning I'd sing you a song
I meant for someone else
But instead I write this poetry
for this reality is myself
She might be my today
But you'll always be my tommarow
And it's a fact that I cant hide
what God see's as my sorrow
I thought the world had many problems
and saw the need to help.
And asked myself what I could do
beyond the need to yelp.
When all the flaws I thought I saw
were showing in myself.
And all the needs I had to change
were not for someone else.
I help people not to help them.
I help people to help me.
When people are hurting, my advice is the same.
Always.
Perpetually.
Without fail.
Go help someone else, and your bad mood will dissipate.
Inspire someone, and you will be inspired.
Send love and prayers, and your essence will feel joy.
When you uplift another, you become your soul's favorite hero.
Yes. Your soul is keeping track, every minute of every day.
Every word you utter, every look, every gesture, every smile or sneer.
Your spirit wants you to be the best you can be.
She wants you to inspire and help others, with sincere empathy.
She wants you to be your best most heroic self.
Not for them, but for you.
And for her, your essence, your spirit, your soul.
It is her assignment, which is why you have missions in the first place.