Best Familiar Poems
There I was standing, deep in thought
You never crossed my mind,
Until you appeared out of nowhere
No warning,
just with that familiar smile,
Like you've been there all along
Waiting for me to look up
I was taken by surprise
The impact you had,
The impact you still have
On my mood,
My emotions
Thought I was immune to your powers
Guess that was only just a dream
You are back and so is that smile
The one thing I spend many nights trying
To forget,
Just like that, it is all back
To mess with my pretty little head
©132525062013
The teardrops fall like drops of rain,
splashing against your broken heart.
And subjected to years of tears;
paper promises fall apart.
Your fate is all too familiar;
you found the soulmate of your dreams.
And then, doubt somehow surges up,
initiating silent screams.
Reacting to fading feelings;
hope morphs into pain and remorse.
For on the pathway to your heart;
love irrevocably changed course.
Reality is awakened
by the sound of a slamming door.
And you're no longer able to
reignite love's flame anymore.
You experience depression;
love's departure seems surreal.
And you rely on time to help
carry you beyond this ordeal.
I’ve tasted betrayal before just like I have tasted lies
but each time it’s so bitter, the taste always a surprise.
I cannot expel this sickness you left to rot in my soul
the brittleness of your lies that made you lose control.
So I am left no resolution and more unanswered questions,
you told me it would be an hour when I’d only had seconds.
You came in as an infection and you’re leaving a disease
once proud I stood and yet you brought me to my knees
your taking me down and you’re dragging me low.
Why take my hand if you only plan to just let go?
We are not familiar –
we are city dwellers.
We have passed each other
on crowded city streets.
Proud yellows protruding
through concrete cracks.
I have danced with “lady slippers”
in a shaded cluster of trees –
marveled at their footwork,
I have cheered the dandelion,
that tenacious little terror,
for its unrelenting determination
to survive our mindless hate.
Small purple bells hang -
silent chimes adrift on
winnowing winds.
Bright red, the spiral twirl
of hybrid wanderers,
bred of pollinations need.
White buds of frostily
exhaled “babies breath”
lay low against the shrubs.
So I walk the city,
untamed gardens,
each earthy patch a home
where beauty may take root,
smile at passersby.
I thank the fickle winds of fate
for taunting the towering
shade makers, planting
each colored sun drop
amid the gray.
We are not “familiar”
we are city dwellers.
John G. Lawless
4/16/2016
The streets of yesterday, comforting
The landscape of tomorrow, forbidding
Familiar foods rouse fond memories
Tampering with tradition, disapproval
My well-worn armchair's form-fitted to me
That new recliner, stiff as a bad knee
Your scent, your aura, ingratiating
All others, alienating
how comforting the lull and low
of my own familiar calm
silence surrounding me
with the warm embrace
i only know too well
AP: 2nd place 2022
Jane had a stutter
She took her time to speak
Her little sister Lucy lisped
Which sounded rather sweet
Her father had a loud voice
He was master of the house
Her mother spoke softly
Like a timid little mouse
Her brother was dumb
And he couldn't say a word
Grandma was deaf
She mixed up everything she heard
The pussy cat purred
The Alsatian dog barked
The Canary in a cage
Sang like a lark
The kettle on the hob
Whistled merrily
Mum put her knitting down
And made a cup of tea
sometimes..beneath conceited clouds we swirl~cloaked in rainbow radiance..
self-serving songs sung by familiar faces~ but are we too naive..
to see past nebulous spheres ~ cunning wings of bittersweet butterflies..
not every tuscan twinkle is gold ~ nor do they speak tea rose twilights..
I’ve a vast store of mem’ries about Chicago
as I’ve lived there for a couple of years
helping out in the parish of many immigrants,
especially Mexicans and Puerto Ricans.
I’ve made friends and a number of them
still continue to correspond by emails;
it’s like a treasure-trove of relationships -
where friendship makes a big difference.
I still remember when I get invitations
from people of other cultures in their homes;
their different cuisines and customs,
a great experience, a wealth of culture.
Chicago’s known for many attractions,
home of architecture with modern skyscraper
the neo-gothic Tribune Tower in the north
along with white Wrigley building in the city;
rich in architectural history, a sight to behold!
Its classic and modern architecture so far,
complements each other in visible terms,
with innovative ideas and creative designs
a special city with marvelous history.
Daniel Burnham, the famed architect,
designed the Merchandise Mart and others
significant to his life like ‘Paris on the Prairie’,
a tapestry of combined art of old and new.
Renowned architects with their respective styles
such as Frank Lloyd Wright and his prairie designs,
Louis Sullivan and his visible ornate facades
Ludwig Miles van der Rohe for modern styles.
Oh, Chicago, known also as the Windy City
so rich in history and its uniqueness too,
the time when a huge fire razed the city
destroyed lovely buildings in 1871.
Well, with the growing skyscrapers in the city
Chicago Spire, for instance, with its 150 stories
designed by a renowned architect Calatrava,
stands as the tallest building in North America.
With the so-called Trump Tower in its 92 stories
and then, Waterview Tower with its 90 stories,
Sears Tower, the skyscraper with its 110 stories,
that’s the only tallest among buildings in the U.S.
Oh well, this is Chicago in the landscape of beauty,
as a windy city, as well as a gateway to reality;
there’s meaning to trace back in history
there’s continuing progress towards this century.
I saw a look of hurt so primordial, the dust teared and cleared
Every wrinkle, every agony,
Every twinkle in his eye hopelessly wrought by words
He struggled with a bag of old books,
His white hair scraggly, his breathing heavy
I, with sorrow wrenching from my soul,
Sought his own, in a sad smile that he so feverishly caught
Moments passed, as the older man disappeared,
But I sat there, ready to speak to him if he should return
For such a catch in the eye
Cannot soon dim and die with chance
He returned swiftly,
“Excuse me, will you be here long?”
I said, “Sure. What is it?”
He looked into my eyes and smiled,
“Would you mind watching my books for just a bit?
My clarinet is in the building, I need to go fetch it from a friend.”
“Sure,” Said I. “No problem.”
He thanked me, setting the bag down near me
And walked with confidence to the building,
To retrieve his instrument
I pondered his life, the pain in his eyes,
And for a moment wondered how it might compare to mine
This old man, struggling with a massive bag of books,
An even greater weight pressing upon his practiced brain
A brain filled with the pure notes of a mechanism that soars
He returned almost joyously, thanking me once again,
Relaying to me his previous sufferings,
Unkind, uncouth words,
In his mind, sure and inerasable
“Have you ever been treated so ill you wished to die?
Have you ever felt that little?
Felt so powerless, and failing?
Surely I must be boring you. . .”
When his countenance calmed and I reassured him,
Offering my sympathetic ear,
And many a sensitive nod,
He asked my name before leaving forever
“Ah…do you know the song ‘Laura’?”
He hummed the tune and I beamed, nodding,
Remembering the haunting melody
It was as if he was anticipating that nod,
That he knew I recognized such a strange, haunting tune
By his happy, alighted smile
So when he went on his way,
With his heavy bag of books,
And his clarinet tucked safely in his black box,
Our pains sauntered on to less fortunate fellows
Refreshing feel of identifying with music in my life,
The mother’s voice still echoes sweet in all life’s strife’s.
She taught me to walk, run, dance and sing,
My mother still stands strong in love and vigor in my life.
Kindergarten, the start of knowledge in life,
Where Mini, Lakshmy, Susan, Shoba and Meera,
Still shines as star's in my day- to-day life,
Keeping those memories and blooming together.
School days, are times that stays vivid in mind,
Friends that evoked passions of love still impress,
Susan Bindu, Jaya, Brinda, and Manju remained firm,
Even when life made new meanings,connections endured.
College saw, mixed platter, though women who stayed in unit
More in day- to-day life in Bindu, Geeta, Asha, Raji and Vinith,
Patterns of Lost love, admiration's, hero worship,list stands long,
However, for me it was a distressing lullaby of hearts .
Life showed me, women stand strong above all
As I carry endless power of strength, mind and heart,
when I finds myself and knows where I remain in life!
So I stand tall and represent myself as women.
Love never lost its footprints along the line,
I am a woman in Love,being loved and cherished
I knows deep in my heart that i am contend,
Hearts grew deep in love, known love and in Love.
I knew it right from the start, a moms heart
Holding my finger tight, I cradle you in my arms
Your smile and showed all your charms.
Heavens showered me the "Mom', role in prologue.
I take you to dance
In your dress of blue.
Santana’s black magic woman is playing tonight.
Swaying to the music, I wonder about your true home,
Your tangled story, your fine shelves of books.
I have an ocean of questions but a thimble of time.
Maybe The Art of War will be there.
Maybe a classic of the ancients, something curious and modern,
Written in ink dark, lustrous as your hair.
I want to turn pages tonight,
The secret histories rewritten
To remember us…
You walk away when the boun is done without a word.
I, watching like a period becoming an exclamation point,
Laugh, filled to the edge where the soul meets the body.
We, the momentary.
The smell of baking bread
A welcome at the door,
That comfortable armchair-
Paintings on the wall,
Gran-kids coming to call,
No ceremony or fuss
Family and us-
Bibles & books abound,
His love to surround,
Loyalty is found
Where is the passion that once lit our fire
Its embers grow tired and weak
Our love has grown weary, void of desire
Where is this flame that we seek
The candle has burned, the wax now cold
The wick? now gone with the flame
Then trust ran away, as our secrets unfold
With no one but ourselves to blame
The promises made, lay dying each day
As memories are starting to fade
Without reason or rhyme, it turned out this way
Just look at the mess that we've made
Our emotions now fuel this love of a lie
The truth too hard to embrace
The love that we knew has started to die
Becoming a familiar face
Familiar love is all we have left
Yet we both feel the need to stay
So here we remain in spite of this theft
Until one of us walks away
Mind maze moves mime
Ask apt align
Charm cocoons chimes
Live lovely lift
Address appease
Attend adrift
Meet mystic mess
Zeal zone zooms zest
Etch each express
Take time to tell
Signs speak sure sell
Faith funds foretell
Loss loiters lines
Appeal assigns
Echoes entwine
Thrill tensile toss
Movement minds moss
Lift lousy loss
Odd one only
Niche noise naughty
Ends etch easy
Kind keeper's kin
Indulge ink inn
Nib nimble nymph
Last lazy lurch
Upward use urge
View vision's verge
Nurture new nay
Opt odd okay
Wise winning ways
Leon Enriquez
30 January 2015
Singapore