Best How I Poems
(The Fallen Poet)
Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens,
Images of angels fallen to their knees
A piece of space, of solitude
The sun a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before - broken and alone
Heaven sees the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words
My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets
Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before,
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly
I was lost, could not even count on myself
Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Alone, I stood in old footsteps after falling down
At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new, refreshing old footprints
~*~
(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)
I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I stand for
Lying to yourself, you are sweet, caring and better
Still, you look at me and hate everything I stand for
You are a cheat - A liar - A toilet flushing down rain
You seek and want my attention, yet you have no domain
Your THANK YOU's are cheaper than a grin on a Walmart bag
The light - The light - That shines upon your expression
Nothing more than.....
Sour grapes traveling towards the darkest region of the sun
Yes, simple prunes basking all the time!!!!!
Shaking powdered grapes from lobe to lobe
Watching humping wild hogs who can't eat cake
---Desperately you mock yourself---
Before you draw a blank, let me remind you
You look at me and hate everything I stand for
The way I smile, carry myself every day
I never claim to be perfect, but better with no anvil
You can't bear the way I stand in front of the soap display
I embrace with all my spirit, at the end of every day
I'm so glad I am nothing like you or them
In reality, I judged you the moment you walked in
Before the year ends, I will end my affair right here
I have nothing more to say
I hope you all have a great new year.
TaTa SKAT in the Hat
You Are Not Invited
--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--
----
Silently she swarms in like a leech,
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out
Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves,
I strike, like a pyromaniac --A burning match
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe
A waste in the breeze her insecurities
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,
YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes
:)
You say, I’m too far,
towards the far side?
It’s a hazard of my left-handedness,
that I see the logic in abstraction.
Worlds lay within worlds
and colors bleed personality;
Oh, it may be distasteful
in the world of mathematics
to give a square five sides;
not in my world,
it’s a box with the lid open.
Into that box I pour
my imaginings,
things that only I can see
of which, some folks display
their jealousy;
they accuse me of being backwards,
of not following the rules.
In my world, rules are
shades of grey,
monotone
monotony,
my imagination
does not obey.
No one tells me that
a cow can’t be purple,
that clouds can’t speak
or that you can’t draw the
invisible realms.
Step into my guitar and dance,
it’s playing itself for you.
I’m an original, you see
and I travel in
imagination’s zone.
Don't bother me with conformity
don't bother me today-
with things I should (or shouldn't) do
or what I shouldn't say!
Don't bother me with conformity
my house is not “obscene”...
Orange, purple, and lavender
look lovely with lime green!
Don't bother me with conformity
I'm much too happy, carefree
to wonder why the neighbors all
keep staring so at me!
Maybe they're jealous of my tail
I really don't give a hoot!
Surely they have seen before
grown-ups in zebra suits?
Don't bother me with conformity
...too busy to follow your lead!
I've whatcha-ma-call-it thingies to build
and unicorns to feed!
Don't bother me with conformity
don't worry me this way!
You've stepped on all the faeries toes
and run the elves away...
Don't bother me with conformity
you're being such a pest!
My mud pies were quite fabulous
and not a “filthy mess”!
Don't bother me with conformity
my music's not so loud...
Accordions are delightful-
See? It's already drawn a crowd!
...Respectfully holding their applause
until I reach the end-
Oh no- they really love it so!
You're quite mistaken, friend!
Don't bother me with conformity
come dance a jolly jig!
You really should loosen up a bit
you sad, forlorn, old prig!
Don't bother me with conformity
No thanks! I've had my fill...
of boring, bland, and deathly dull
no doubt that boredom kills!
Don't bother me with conformity
Oh, what was that you said?
Well, I think you (and your boring lot)
are the crazy ones instead!
He speaks with measured dignity,
one silent word at a time
His palmetto pen tells us:
Tune out the cosmic background noise,
and focus your mind
on the sound of the silent voice
You most certainly will hear this ...
... did you hear it?
Oh, perhaps you got distracted by the sounds of emptiness
His message in a void
comes with clear poetic instructions:
Avoid all unnecessary malaise ... cap the chaotic noise
Have a willingness to learn
one silent word at a time
This will teach us how to unclutter our mind
Using poetic telepathy,
his priceless pen brings that silent word
to the surface of our consciousness
Not every sound we hear in this world do we need
The Silent One says:
take it one silent word at a time
True understanding comes
when we allow expansion of the heart
Enlarging our capacity to transmit love,
allows us to hear
the best unspoken words we never heard of
One silent word ...
when spoken at the right moment of time
can be so life-changing sublime
Poetic telepathy ... gives us the ability
to understand every unspoken word
written between the lines
One silent word
connecting
to another unspoken word ...
Pure poetic telepathy in our mind
Enlarging our capacity to receive love,
allows us to speak
the best unspoken words we never spoke of
Where his silent pen stroke stops —
at the sacred melding of two minds ...
let these silent words
be spoken in unison, always at the same time
This is a tribute to my talented poet friend, Silent One
i believe we all
have a poem in our hearts
some need no metaphors
for a poet is a bridge
between words and emotions
connecting hearts and souls
through all four seasons
my heart is not a guesthouse
it's an asylum for the broken
a treasure of memories
of those forgotten
so all the names
written within it
i place into a box
to shelter from storms
as long as there is oxygen
i'll keep them warm
but sometimes I am thunder
because they are like lightening
sometimes it's really frightening
so i curse my heart
for feeling too much
sometimes it curses me
for not forgiving enough
maybe that's why
when they move forward,
i take a step backwards
losing the gravity of my voice
because sometimes i feel frozen
isolated on an unknown island
profoundly pondering
about the equity of love
it's not always fair - if ever
all i ask from these strangers
is to leave their ego at the door
for dishonesty and hypocrisy
disturbs one's tranquillity
from silence of the womb
to darkness of the tomb
some pens remain dormant
some suffer from insomnia
life is not butterflies and lullabies
so i keep writing in the hope
one day someone will understand
continuing to release emotive ink
with a message in each poem
hidden behind metaphors
Because there is a God in heaven who demands an accounting. Because there are demons on earth who never sleep. Because the wind whispers words into my head whether I want it to or not. Because my little Caitlyn loved toads. Because the world has flipped upside down and its goodness has been lost. Because little children keep crying out in anguish. Because my voice must be added to the din of those seeking change. Because the sky bleeds red, black and blue. Because hope cannot be silenced. Because darkness must be exposed by light. Because my bones ache when I keep poetic words bound. Because freedom of speech demands it. Because the words and ideas that awaken me at three a.m. must be committed to pen and paper or I cannot sleep. Because a kind word can heal a broken heart, or a crushed spirit. Because the world can be harsh and cruel to the most vulnerable among us. Because I want my unique style to be recognized and lauded. Because Thomas Woodward, Winky, Sam Dumpty and other characters that have sprung from my brain have a right to exist, live and breathe. Because I am lonely sometimes. Because I want the world to be better, brighter. And most of all, because I want you to accept me into your heart where I can feel wanted, safe and secure.
I came upon two empty chairs atop a hillside green
They beckoned me to pause and think upon this verdant scene
Their canvas stripes of blue and white adorned a wooden frame
They rested sweetly side by side while calling me by name
I wondered who had brought them there, wherever did they go
And would it be ok for me to sit, I didn’t know
But then a gentle breeze began to guide me sure and true
And from my seat, I saw the world, yet from another’s view
Amazed to gaze upon the earth yet see it differently
Familiar in its landmarked bounds but not the same for me
Forever now to understand before one places blame
That from another’s chair, the view is not always the same
A wise and sentimental one
Who lived and loved some years ago
Had crossed my path along the way
As i recall that Autumn day
By happenstance of lucky charm
As neighbors, then good friends we were
Though she was of another time
We found our words would always rhyme
A turning point that was for me
A home to call my very own
My life was just about to start
Forever called to gift my heart
She taught me not to fear my age
As life awaits then passes by
To always laugh and find the sun
And share my love with everyone
Though she’s been gone these many years
And I’m now where she was in life
I oft remember our exchange
When my world turns so cold and strange
Of many themes, we’d share our thoughts
She helped me grow, to find my strength
Yet one remains above them all
“Into each life some rain must fall”
For Harriett
I'm sitting on the floor
I'm crying so much more
trying to erase this pain
trying to forget your face
sitting here with the blade in my hand
running so slow blood dripping down
in a deep red color
flowing freely the way i want to feel
I'm sitting on the floor
holding my hand out
I'm holding a bottle
a bottle filled with pills
I'm crying so hard
the pain is unbearable
I'm feeling so weak
I'm sitting here on this floor
holding a blade
crying like crazy
trying to take this pain away
I'm trying my best trying to fight
my eyelids feel heavy
my door is so far
the whispered yells to far
falling deep in to sleep
deep..deep..deep..deep
I'm laying on a bed
I'm so confused
where am i?
my throat feels sore
my body screams in pain
I'm looking around
I'm in a small white room
i try to move,
my hands are stuck
i try to get up
i feel restraints
what happened to me?
I'm laying on a bed
trying to get up
my head hurts
a nurse is here
a shot is administered
i drift to sleep
I'm in the psych ward
why am i here?
I'm lying on a bed
laying so still
my wrists hurts to no end
I'm crying out loud
screaming and cussing
my body hurts
i can't remember
all i remember are my bloody wrists
and a bottle of pills
all i remember is the pain i was in.....
Form:
"La Voz"
La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing, and celebrating life
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget
Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my own house!
History and bad company, repeating itself
He wants to ruin the beauty of leadership
America on top, Latinos on the bottom
"Legally," he says, he'll welcome me
Law-abiding, I pass the proper speech
Stereotyped every time I share my race
Casting my poor nationality under the Rio Grand,
A wall too tall, in which my people continue to build
After I give him my all
Children, love, support
The best tortillas in the house
He offends a lifetime of memories
I'm a skillful woman, I dance with no music
I love to work, I take the field
Picking cotton, like there's no tomorrow
I will continue to paint rainbows
And enjoy every color in my garden.
Today, I've forgotten what Mexico looks like
However, that does not cut him from
accusing my race of planting too many trees
Calculating, calling Latinos criminals,
Forgetting his sin, he wants to win
Insinuating we're robbing the American Dream
This is where I belong!!!
Go ahead and build more republicans
I'm already on the side I want to be
Born and raised in the USA
~*~
I leave the daily hustle and bustle
and the cacophony of city sound.
And head to where the leaves softly rustle
in the breeze, and no one else is around.
When I'm alone, I experience peace
that raises my soul to a higher plane.
And anxiety's attacks slowly cease,
free from critical critiques and disdain.
Seclusion fuels imagination;
shaping reality within my mind.
And it's a feeling of liberation;
unrestricted by rules of any kind.
Whenever I seek solitude by choice,
I heed the whispers of my inner voice.
To be at peace with myself again..
To ..
Smell the scent of fresh-cut grass
Hear the crunch of falling leaves
Wear garlands of yellow daises
Feel the crisp air of the breeze.
Taste the rain upon my tongue
as drops drizzle on my lips
Run barefoot in fields of green
Welcome back the bird song bliss.
Leave behind shallow mud puddles
Roll-up track pants to my knees
Be happy with who I am
and the simple life I lead.
Because...
In simplicity lives memories
of who we were back then
Before adulthood took over
Kidnapped each sweet boy and girl.
Oh this little girl inside me
In dark woods it begs and screams
She knows nothing of the cluttered world
Her young heart belongs to dreams.
Her thoughts as snow Untainted!
Her words are loud and clear.
The sky she sees is beautiful
and love is everywhere.
PS: Just a simple poem :)
The words that I write
flow from a deep place
The lines I express
mirror the lines on my face
Some lines are joyful
other lines took their toll
Yes the lines on my face
on the page reveal my soul
I love my laugh lines
they are my fast friends
I can be a bit cheeky
or sarcastic, it depends
My love lines are softer
around my eyes they reveal
To the page when transferred
they let you know how I feel
Some lines are more tragic
they are my battle scars
I share lines on pages
instead of drinking in bars
Joyful, sad or happy
each line expressed is true
My expression as a writer
I choose to gift to you
Yes, all the lines scribed
mirror the lines on my face
They help me to navigate
through my mind space
Lines that reveal wisdom
are not pretty that’s true
They should be heeded
please listen to them too
Then choose to reveal
some lines of your own
I’ll see the lines on your face
and know that I’m not alone!