Best Imbedded Poems
My words were rewritten until they became yours
As grammar and syntax perfected your thoughts
Pages lined with highlighters polished me to extinction
I wanted to resist all of those good intentions
Yet I knew you wanted your best words for me
You weren't listening so you couldn't hear what I was asking for
Poor boy me I lacked the courage to say it loud enough
I felt my voice become tiny as my heart disappeared
Sure my words were somewhat awkward
Still I had things to express that way
My rhythm was imbedded in the word play
You crumbled my granite and turned it into clay
It happened slowly a bit day by day
I was there hidden in the disconnected details
Crystal blue eyed observations to share
Becoming myself on the verge of aware
You could have found me there
My words weren't lacking weight or substance
Like a series of road signs I pointed in a certain direction
I wasn't looking for polished perfection
What I desired most was emotional connection!
The trip must have seemed hard
You couldn't see past the curves in my road
It was to difficult to decipher my emotional code
So instead you bulldozed through my mind
with a big truck weighted with your own heavy load
If only you could have lingered and waited
Maybe you could have been sated
My words were interplayed and related
The strength of your ego I had not anticipated
In your wake I was left dejected and frustrated
There had been points of interest along the way
sprinkled star dust amidst the Milky Way
Beneath were gardens in which you could have come to play
There was no rush, I wanted you to stay
Until my liquid thoughts were morphed into hay
There before you
I had erected statues of delight
adorned in billowing fabric made of light
Perhaps you were blinded by my bright
unexpected in the middle of the night
You could have occupied my pleasure
Below my surface a spring fed treasure
A gift for you beyond measure
You could have witnessed the essence of me
Even though you came so close
you just couldn't see...
This is an old one that I have significantly reworked.
an early morning rise,
up the stairs
walk into the bathroom
in the sink
a small stain of blood.
less than a measure of yesterday
pulling a baby out of the womb into my arms.
on the sheets
a small stain of blood.
midwives wrap
my first born
snug and warm.
when her mother
finally gets her initial fill
she hands me this precious
new life.
i hold her knowing
there is nothing,
nothing!,
nothing...
nothing.,
nothing-
better then this moment!,
sweet scented perfection!,
lulls me into a peaceful bliss.
as she grows,
i spend my best times with her
and later her sister too.
my daughters own me
lock,
stock
and
barrel.
Ali?
i still see your
baby green eyes
reaching out to me.
i still smell your
childhood scent.
i can still taste
your hopes and dreams.
i can still touch
your youth as if it were now,
hear your tiny voice
"daddy i love you but you're my best friend too".
there is nothing,
nothing!,
nothing...
nothing.,
nothing-
better then this moment!,
you're now twenty two.
in the sink?
a small stain of blood.
in your bedroom
cocaine,
syringes,
...everywhere.
i clean
carefully picking them up.
i know you know you're playing
russian roulette with your life.
the drug convinced you
your life isn't worth living.
that's what drugs do.
they're that snake in the garden of eden
and you know eve ate that apple
and you know she sacrificed everything
for a fruit that would never taste that good again.
evil always presents itself as the only choice
while good seems too tough an alternative
but the truth is, the harder you have to work for it
the better it feels and it holds its feel with nothing to chase.
you can't hear me
the monster deeply
imbedded in you.
but Ali i love you
and Ali my heart weeps
and on my chest sits
a small stain of blood!
June 3 2015
Armand
I picked up my tube of super glue
In hopes of piecing together
Sad lonely broken you
As I sifted through the bits
I wasn't sure what to do
Although there were many pieces
I was missing quite a few
Looking back to yesterday
tomorrow now and then
I Kept searching and searching
over and over again
To find the missing pieces
I looked to your pen
More than twenty-two missing
or perhaps less than ten
Imbedded in the paper
those pieces I sought
The lessons you had learned
and the pain they had brought
All your moments revealed
They came together in thought
I heard paper like screaming
cutting through me like a shot
The glue I was holding
Dissolved slowly like sand
so I gathered up your heart
and held it in my hand
My tears fell amongst the pieces
in a way I didn't understand
Your heart became too hot to handle
So I placed it on the land
Lifting heart up from the ground
You placed it slowly in your chest
All those bits that truly formed you
came together and we were blessed
Hidden answers you chose to scribe
where always meant to be a test
Revealing what we all are missing
those parts of us that go unconfessed
Seeking Redemption Beyond The Horizon
While my mind ventures to unravel the origins of human enmities
Craves to stumble upon a most sagacious and diplomatic solution,
We journey on even when decency is absent without good reason.
Vestiges of a dream imbedded in pages shred to miniscule pieces.
Where did the promises that we had sworn to and to abide by go?
Were eyes blinded by a debris of perverted lies creating paranoia?
Transgressions orchestrated for their politically motivated agenda,
Enact crimes against humanity inflating an already distended ego.
There is no end in sight only the sanctimonious blather of the vile
Or those egregious behavior of autocrats and anarchists seditious.
We must beg the Spirit of Justice to lead and champion our cause,
Liberating hearts from dank dungeons where love remain in exile.
Time is of the essence to end disparities for polarity still envelops,
Like the devil's claw suppressing every gasp of humanity's breath.
The indistinct laughter, a dire warning, heralds an ominous threat,
No escape route or fence to climb, just a row of hangman's ropes.
Optimism's visions blindfolded, subjugated by menacing shadows,
Yet slivers of ethereal light penetrates impregnable walls of doom.
Opportunity transcends hardship driving back the insidious gloom,
It is within our grasp to ignite joy and douse the flame of sorrows!
Penned: 02/10/2023
2:41 p.m.
Las Vegas
Nevada
There is a phrase of words be praised
I’ve heard somewhere before;
Down amongst the dirt and weeds
Of things we most deplore.
Which rob us of our rightful place
In the shade of dignity and warm sun:
“Forever to endeavor,
Persevere and overcome.”
It might have been a movie scene
With Clint Eastwood as I recall
Listening to a displaced Indian
Recant their final fall.
Dispensing with philosophy
Of a life lived on the run:
“Forever to endeavor, he said,
Persevere and overcome.”
Or perhaps another book I’ve read
Or a whisper in the wind;
Those words imbedded deep inside
My memory, like good friends.
Down in the brain beyond the strain
Of races lost and won:
“Forever to endeavor, they say,
Persevere and overcome.”
All the slings and arrows
Once released upon us all;
Sorrow and deceit caused by liars and cheats
While struggling over mountains wide and tall.
Bringing occasional relief but more often defeat
As if trapped inside a spider web well spun:
“Forever to endeavor, they say,
Persevere and overcome.”
You were placed on the planet
to write rhymes
but to many times
people tried to fit you
in between their lines
Their prefect pairings
not caring or wanting to be fair or kind
They couldn’t possibly see you
They were bonafide blind
not understanding you
unable to peek into your multifaceted mind
You say “Darkness and Negativity”
But you are starting off in the right place
praying on your knees
No, not needing the societal disease
Who cares if it’s man you please
Only God has the answers
He holds all the keys
He gave us the birds and the bees
and lets us build our houses
out of his trees
Change is coming
I can feel it cold blowing
on the breeze
Maybe God will show us
what He sees
I know sometimes
That mirror feels cracked and broken
The image you see is frozen
Words stuck on the other side of the glass
your reflection has never spoken
When you stare into those eyes
You wonder
What things will be discovered
as your spirit is awoken
Get on the love yourself train
God’s blessed you with a token
Don’t worry, I think all of us
feel incomplete
doing the life sad shuffle
just off a bit by a half beat
yet we get off our asses and repeat
Nothing ever got done
spending to much time in a seat
Get moving guy
bring out those happy feet
You’ve got things to do
and people to meet
Put words down on paper
Take all those thoughts
the good, bad, bold and beautiful
flow-fully fill up that stark white sheet
Like yours “my reality”
is imbedded within my insanity
sometimes I’m the victim
of my own voracious vanity
I think I need to go it alone
While needing something
to fill up this heart cavity
Sometimes I feel like floating far far away
yet I can’t escape emotional gravity
My loneliness is my own preferred prison
I am my own worst enemy
Is this a strange self fulfilling prophecy
Do I need to be separate from society
If so why do I want people to look and see
To read the essence that resides in me
It’s only when I write that I totally feel free
I guess in the end I’m who I am born to be!
Inspired by Christen Foster’s “My Reality” piece.
Join me in welcoming a new poet to our family.
Under a grin, redirected,
A sniff of grief claws
Through, revealing
A sad blue artery,
A pain 24-7.
Underscored with carefully
Emoted verbs,
And adjectives imbedded with
Mock sincerity,
A simple sentence: a right to be honest.
Beneath the pulse in heartbeats encephalo
A few tearful regrets
Lob empty phrases into
A field with no guilt, washed and dried,
And returned unlabeled.
Notes played by the wind sounded like 'Taps.'
A sad song without lyrics, expressing lament
Sorrow pelted me like crashing white caps
Beneath the fading light of the sun's descent
darkness gathered in a leaden sky
as I whispered with tearful breath, "Goodbye."
So many words we'd left unspoken
when fear prevented us from speaking
Somewhere along our journey we were broken,
never discovering what it was we were seeking.
I laid a rose from my garden then turned to go.
One set of footprints imbedded in the snow.
Behind me arose the baleful cawing
soaring in the sky, a flock of ebon crows
Tears coursing from my eyes as if I were thawing
The wintry world held me in its throes.
On I walked, pathway lighted by the moon,
listening to the notes of 'Taps,' a haunting tune.
Summer Sunset
I smiled at seagulls dancing on the beach at low tide
and dug my toes into lemon-colored grains of sand,
nearly the same light hue of a fresh egg yolk, if fried
in Summer heat of the saffron sun's outstretched hand
I'd enjoy being alone today and feeling a bit recluse
I planned to bask and tan for a while near the dunes
In a swimsuit of lilac flowers, ruffled in chartreuse
while listening to orchestral music of my favorite tunes
I'd been lulled by the rhythm of waves on the shore
mingled with scent of lavender and soon I fell asleep
The slight sting of a burn had set in. It was past four
and what I wanted was to bathe my body in the deep
The waters of the sea were not quite emerald green
Nor the cerulean blue of a preening peacock's feather
It shimmered in late afternoon, as a bright aquamarine
I waded in but kept an eye on the changing weather
A wave washed me ashore and beside me a conch lay
pearly shades of watermelon and pink, imbedded inside
Then my eyes were drawn to a coral sky above the quay
On the horizon a tangerine sunset, so lovely that I cried
August 2nd 2017~Seasonal Color Contest
Colors to be used:
aquamarine~cerulean~chartreuse~coral~lavender
lemon~lilac~saffron~tangerine~watermelon
A Poet , a dreamer , a man named Michael.
Named after my father and also a saint.
Drifting through time with my pen I paint.
Just a soul gliding in and out of God's cycle.
My name is known as the Godfather's last son.
Also a star who wore a little white glove.
But mostly just me who writes from love.
An Angel I'm not , but there's no harm in my fun.
Though I'm not Michael the second.
I tried to fill my dad's big shoes.
We coached together whether win or lose.
Such times imbedded in my heart as his son.
Now my own man and later in life poet.
I share my life in words to those who can't see me.
I hope to touch a few of those who read and feel me.
Each new write is another way for me to show it.
Now you have a clearer view of Michael your friend.
A confused life at times but now has found his sight.
With Rosanna by my side all is good, and life is just right.
I'm stronger for it all and never will this heart bend.
"What's In a Name Contest" by The Sweetheart of Poetry Soup
I succumb to love’s demand
To be inexhaustible like desert sand
Fathomless like deep oceans
Soothing like the moonlit night
Sacred like a holy book
Unalterable like faith
Imbedded in heart like virtues
That unselfishness ignite.
My love is beyond my own self
Not counting loss and gain
My love crosses the bonds of
Religion, color and creed.
My loving thee O mankind!
Enhances my love of God.
Deceit of sun when rays are still but porous;
unwelcome thief, afford my dream more seconds.
Some dappled shadows flit through mystic keyhole;
alight upon pellucid remnant image.
I stifle yawn as thoughts embrace the vision.
My ever-restless spirit merits story
which doesn’t evanesce at first obstacle
encountered when issues foisted upon me.
Embarked on travels, trinkets of high finesse
that crossed the boundaries of reality.
The past firmly imbedded in the future,
illuminating a path predictable and
imbued with fantasy and peccant grandeur.
Adroitly I manoeuvred through initial
self-doubt that plagued a multitude of people.
Circumlocutory whim of eidolon
expertly gathered evidence to support
demand that’s straddling realms, but I will resist.
I read the missive through and then carefully
enfold my dreams in cocoon, preserving them.
Unpleasant facts I spat out like an obol
that’s placed under tongue of recently deceased.
The critics can wait with Charon for day of
reckoning – future set aside for visions.
My dreams swim at the edge of river’s conscience.
Expectations made dreams luminesce brightly,
but withered in morning sun’s naïve splendour.
Like sands in the hourglass, the grains of wisdom
filtered through consciousness and needled thinking.
I set aside the search for epiphany.
He saunters along
towards somewhere
An easy walker
with bright white hair
In his Jean coat pocket
a casino discarded deck
If you look close enough
sunshine’s imbedded in his neck
Yes, twenty years sober brother
he keeps his hands and feet busy
The way he shuffles both
slows my mind, makes me dizzy
He’s not one to share his story
by himself he’s blissfully content
I wonder where he hails from
and the places he has went
Still, he’s not my puzzle to solve
his quiet provides my answer
He’s a solitaire aficionado
and a easy walking dancer.
the frozen breath would stain
the night sky black,
as it swallows the harmony
of a lone cricket choir.
your skin reflects
our shroud of sweat,
your teeth sacredly protest
across my naked shoulders
in this Moët room.
The half moon comes
to rest its rays,
casting a former shadow
on fingers that climb my ribs
like desperation clings to the ladder.
A want to understand
what the other pretends
through eyes, an impatient
glance in a moment
we see a reflection;
my arms braced back
hands full of drunken awkwardness
your fingers imbedded
above my chest, owning flesh
tension can only releases this ache
while your lips search for sound
stopped by times aged hand
coming to rest on our nakedness
(as we become giants)
Two children lost in the wood and snow,
huddled by a small but tended fire,
clinging together for warmth and safety,
That was the story of our lives.
Imbedded in the old and tattered photo,
lay the hidden reality of childhood
and children sustaining one another
Through years and space and time.
Together in search of finding life's purpose
it's unattainable answers
to the question of existence
the point of journeying together.
Alone as individuals we found the reply
unremarkable, often lost, misplaced,
forgotten and unachieved
due to the circumstances of living life.
Two children growing up
and looking out for one another
despite the difficulties and the trials
somehow surviving, surpassing all.
Two children taken by the whirlwinds
of living and eventually dying
still bound together through time
having learned in shared secrecy, the lessons of life.