Best Go Down Poems
I must go down to the sea again,
My face turned towards the sky
With wind-snatched sounds from the beach below
And above, the seagull’s cry.
Let me walk along the cliff again.
Let me learn into the gale.
See the breakers as they curl and crash
Hear the sound of the shifting shale.
Let me lie in the cliff-top grass again.
Let me hear the singing sand,
Feel the sting of the wind-whipped dunes
And walk the long sea strand.
I must go down to the sea again,
So I can say ‘good bye’
And feel the salt spray on my face
Once more before I die.
Written for Tracy Decker’s “Inspired by the Masters” contest.
First line has been taken from John Masefield's lovely poem.
Let Me Watch The Sun Go Down
Let me watch the sun go down
The end of a life giving day
The flowers tightly curl
Hiding their beauty until the light returns
Breezes slow and fade into stillness
The scents of the day drops onto the moist ground
Animals crawl into their lairs
Do they dreams of open fields?
Or do they watch the darkness
Eyes straining into nothingness
Looking for the moment of their deaths
Their babies cuddle beneath a dense thicket
Clinging close to their mother
Waiting, hoping for the morning’s light
Let me watch the sun go down
Watch its beauty as blue turns into gold and lastly black
Night comes and the world finally sleeps
And still I watch
When I say stuff you don't agree with
and you ask me questions about it
and I answer them
and then you say stuff I don't agree with
and I ask questions
and you answer them
and slowly we get
to know each
other as long as respect is foremost
in both our heads
this can get done
without violence.
Of all the lanes we could go down,
Memory Lane may be the most dangerous of all.
If you choose to take a trip down this lane,
There are a few precautions it would be wise to take.
Be prepared for an emotional roller coaster,
Ideally you should start the journey emotionally detached,
With any preconceived ideas left behind,
And take time to visit more than just past wrongs,
It is a journey best postponed if suffering from fuzzy logic
Or Selective memory loss.
Wearing rose tinted glasses may not be a good idea.
Choose wisely any travelling companions.
Avoid alcohol or drugs for 24 hours before starting journey.
If you think the journey down is problematic,
The return journey may be more so.
Checking your baggage before you start back is a must,
As hate and prejudice along with others too numerous to mention,
Are always looking to hitch a ride,
Blame is looking for an easy transfer.
Virtual memories are waiting to be picked up by the unwary.
You should not stop at some places after dark.
If you want to avoid bitterness setting in.
To increase your chances of a successful journey
Down this lane and back.
As with most journeys,
Preparation and having realistic expectations are key,
Along with the right music to set the tone.
And don't forget your sense of fun and a willingness to explore
All that is available.
Once in a while -in a moment
of immense sulfurous clarity, when
every grace I locked in my dilated pupils
begins to form lesions, yellow-running
tears through the deepest, lusty scarlet –
black and white would be a relief.
My mind billows like sheets,
silken, swathing whore-hues
over my perception.
I have to turn my head, hold my eyelashes together
with two fingers
hoping reality is more palatable
in the abstract.
On the edges of my eyes, where the
tawny evil beckons, bending
streaks of light, blurred through my subconscious
I see myself continue.
Unfamiliar limbs flowing over the sidewalk,
never missing an ill-fated furrow,
the cracks that I know will break me
before they seep poison into my mother’s back.
I’ll set aflame this fool’s-gold heart in
my crimson-stained fingers
and hope I don’t burn myself down
like the insanity with her claws on my eyes,
holding every torch high and shrieking to the
heavens for
fire, fire, fire;
No pretenses, just destruction –
hope ashes don’t lodge in my throat
like the drunken revelry,
the celebration: saliva and child-sobbing
unending in the streetlamps
gag-reflex mercy from the pitiless
that preceded them.
I had a song on my heart for a while I could not described the feel the emotion
Of a tone take from favorable to last supper what it mean of such love
Humanity don of time next saw the
Don of century seeing to reading I
Understanding the meaning of music
But this song on my heart it means the
World to hear it once again how does it go once more.
tropical retreat
bestowed by clouds overture
somber islanders
if you go down to the streets today
beware of the frozen ground
if you go down to the streets today
you're sure to go slippin' around
for all the snow so pretty last night
has gathered there and turned into
ice
Today's the day you need claws on
your footsies.
winter time is such lovely fun
with snowflakes dancing in the light
watch them, catch them
challenge friends in snowball fight
you can sleigh, you can ski, print
angels in snow
"Till the cold and the wind come like
thieves in the night
and a fire and your bed fill your heart
with delight
it's cold down there in the streets
today
it's better to stay at home
it's vile down there in the streets
today
It's safer to stay at home.
the icy winds got spiteful alone
and turned pavements to soapy
stone
and getting around is sure to be no
picnic
you don't want to go down there
Have you been there
Yes there where the politicians
Are shooting killing and
Fighting
I know you don't want to go
Down there
Yeah you don't want to go
Down there
You don't want to go down there
Down there the place so famous
Down there the place so dejected
Down there the place so scattered
Do you want to go down there
Down there where all is to be is death
Down there where hell is on earth (ghetto)
Do you want to go down there
Yeah I know you don't want to go
Down there
Have you been down there
Yes there where politicians
Are shooting killing and
Fighting
I know you don't want to go
Down there
Yeah you don't want to go
Down there
You don't want to go down there
Down there so polluted
Down there full of corruption
Down there so hard
Do you want to go down there
Down there where hunger kills
Down there where jails are full of
Criminal as said
Down there so hot
Do you want to go down there
Yeah I know you don't want to go down there
Have you been down there
Yes there where politicians
Are shooting killing and
Fighting
I know you don't want to go
Down there
Yeah you don't want to
Go down there
You don't want to go down there
Down there so terrible
They say
Down there so horrible
Their media portray Africa
Down there so dangerous
They show to their innocent people
So now none want to go down
There so bad
Do you want to go down there
Yeah I know you don't want to go
Down there
Have you been down there
Down there where politician
Are shooting killing and
Fighting
I know you don't want to go
Down there
Yeah you don't want to go
Down there
Suffer me to fathom the sorrows
The unrighteousness of today's tomorrows
I shall not surcom to those pressures of life
I shall not give in to those valleys of demons strife
Render me on my pleas
I shall only go down
On my knees for my Father
And my Father's Name is Almighty
Almighty God
World of hate unacknowledged true love
The sinfulness of yours and mine
Redeemable but we're running out of time
Not give in to those valleys of demons strife
Render me on my pleas
I shall only go down
On my knees for my Father
And my Father's Name is Almighty
Almighty God
World and Satan may if I only allow
I speak it into existence
I will not let the world nor Satan knock me down,
down to my knees walking over me
I go down to my knees to Reverence Him my Father God
the All Mighty
God
No, no, I tell you, no
Do not go down there,
Turn back from the door
Step away from the stair
I cannot tell you, I can't
The secrets and the lies,
Because... it's too... dreadful
When a pretty thing dies
Yes, she was a pretty thing
But, should you see her now,
All gone and gray and sunken
O, I could not tell you how ...
Don't look, please do not
Well, the door is open a bit,
Peer inside, dare if you must
Do so without my permit
But, o, the sun, she must set
And another day be done ...
Then up jumps the silver moon
Now ... isn't darkness fun!
Words Grow Oysters Go Down
Words grow on barbed wire
On acid rain with sugar droplets
They sit on foreigners tongues assembled
Numbered and fermenting
Difficult to pronounce
Or say in public
Words never come easily
Buying vowels is expensive
Consonants too solid for the air around them
Stay heavy. They end there, untouched
Some words never fit the mouth
And remain unborn
Language seedlings grow in nations
Cultivated underground like mushrooms
Tasting damp and dark
Natural words slip away
Down the throat like oysters
There are no words for that
Stones hide under rocks for cover
Left to their own devices they will never move
And don't have plans this afternoon
There is something about boulders too
Breaking loose from mountain tops
Roaring down with tumbling sounds
Stones have no choice but to follow in their actions
Join in the boulders calamity of gravity
Down with trouble and nothing better to do
One slip is all it takes to start an avalanche
When they crush the home set on the cliff
Make splintered sounds, cracking wood
It is too much collective heavy force
People inside become crumpled with the structure
Massive weight makes changes
Occupants of the house don't care for boulders
And stones don't think of murder
They hide under boulders normally
Occasionally rocks become emotional
Boulders roll over with indifference
When stones go down the mountain
Bad luck? Bad news?
--Rage blindly
--Deny utterly
--Nosedive completely...
...Analyze deliberately
Examine painstakingly
Accept graciously...
...Re-invigorate, all the stronger for the experience!
Form:
WHEN I GO DOWN
the thing that I hate more
than anything else is
the way I am powerless
to dictate my own moods
so many things could
have been so much more
praying problems go away
in wasted breathless curse
taking everything I've learned to teach destructive disregard going down to hit the bottom heavy load that got me there
clear myself of clouded mind
and watch myself settle down
into places where peace can
search me ready to be found
control slips through weak hands
as ever-present conscience shakes
its moral head and reprimands
blaming all ill on selfishness
exhaling briefly I hear Your voice
it gives hope and hope gives life
my words hardly making a noise
a fallen soul praise hath pried
assuring me I’m not dead and gone
my life is worthy and I belong
© Kim van Breda—June 2014