Best Intrude On Poems


A Matter of Choice

LIFE
	                                           A Bland
                                                           Nothingness
                                                     Changing our Lives
                                                 We all Seek solace within 
                                           Allowing oneself to Disassociate 
                                       From chaotic and Charismatic Spirits 
                                  Discovering nothingness, is quite something
                          Appealing positivity, and encouraging changes within
                        Insisting demands ridiculous, unnecessary, and shallow 
                           Fear acknowledges this need to end a chaotic lifestyle
                                   Some fear boring lives intrude on life’s fiesta
                                       There is no need for fear when changing
                                             One needs to relax to keep focus
                                                  For creating a new life within 
                                                      Embraces your solace
                                                             Nothingness 
                                                                 A Bland 
                                                                    LIFE
© Jane Bowen  Create an image from this poem.

Still Standing

Standing across the street she would always pray the rosary
In the cold, rain and heat, among the bustle, there she would be
Women would come and women would go, but there she just prayed
A daily continuous flow, as on this woman's mind, it had weighed

She was always there right around 9, after the 8 o clock Mass
She didn't carry a sign as to intrude on those who would pass
Simply rosary beads in her hand, a deep sullen look on her face
She wasn't there to make a stand, just to ask God for Hiis Grace

But something happened today giving her a great sense of joy
As a young lady made her way in her arms her inquisitive little boy
But they didn't walk past, instead she stopped and turned
Telling her about her past and what she has since learned

She seen her that day, just before she walked inside
Her coat black, her hair gray, but it was that rosary she had eyed
Like a giant flash of light with that one clear moment to think
Everything suddenly came into sight and her heart began to sink

She had turned around leaving as quickly as she came
That peace of mind she found had led to complete inner shame
Even with three years gone by she still thinks of that day
She just wanted to say hi to the lady that changed her life that day

Premium Member Poem For a Sleeping Child

There’s a wish to wander in your cool innocence
and cruise the thoughttides of no
responsibility—so easily you wipe your
shoeless feet on the ever waiting door
mat of socialization. How can I help you keep your 
tender "souls" intact—your tread from
wearing thin out of align so as not to
fall flat. Your easy grace put to an 
unfair test of ill-will winds blowing
carelessly at your soft back. I long for your sweet
calm at rest so deep so empty filled with
solid happiness—you know you are loved 
beyond any measure that’s human or infinite. If
I could walk with you for a moment and peek
quietly at your conscience-----but no-it's yours  
and no Dooleys allowed. Forgive me to 
want to intrude on your ever pleasant play-would you
share with me like the kernel of rice or
squashed raisin-I might, but only if we all
can go. Keep it hold it for as long as you
can-as it suddenly disappears without a trace
never to be found again lest you become your 
own sondaughter and learn to bask on 
the outside looking in—---and be content. I 
will live to never intrude on your soulspace,
but will always knock first. I am sorry ahead 
of time for any pain I cause—for my mat 
was torn treaded , muddy and ragged—my
sleep had no wanting witness. But I promise
to watch over you      all ways.

Dave Collins. Song, Poem for a sleeping child, music to write by, Kevin Ubanks. Best read if listening to the suggested music. Spring 1991.


Animal Freedom

Animal Freedom

A Christmas walk in soft sun of winter
Across crisp fields of umber and green,
A sharp breeze blowing with freedom
On their faces, aglow with the hope
Of seeing one again – a bird; their bird,
Soaring and diving defiantly so.

The eagle. Powerful, swift and so
Free. Wings outstretched on currents of winter
Warmth, rising higher than any other bird.
It’s golden feathers shimmering over green
Hills and clear blue skies, in the hope
Of spying prey, running in a last bid for freedom.

They looked and walked and talked in freedom,
Enjoying the country lanes and paths in so
Carefree a manner; such a rich land of hope,
Bursting with creatures alive in the winter
Meadows: robins, rabbits, hares, a green
Woodpecker, and many a chattering bird.

They paused to rest and listen to bird
Song and breeze, relishing in the freedom
At the heart of nature, so fresh and green;
When suddenly, they saw a bush shaking so
Violently. They stopped and stared, the winter
Wind? Too strong. They watched in hope

Of seeing something curious, or in the hope
Of discovering if this at last was their bird,
Hunting untamed in the wilds of winter.
They approached, careful not to intrude on the freedom
Of the wild, but all they could see was a fluttering so
Urgent, flapping wings, a rubbed-raw leg, a thread of green.

A blackbird was trapped on a branch by green
String; frantic, desperate panic, yet hope
Shone in its eyes, pleadingly so.
They spoke softly, carefully untying the bird,
Which flew off to the wind in a cry of freedom.
They felt proud, liberated, in a wonderland of winter.

They ran home for dinner of green sprouts and festive roast bird;

Bred in darkness and stench, no hope of daylight or freedom.
Incarcerated, deformed, wounded so bad, in a long-hardened winter.


Spare a thought for your turkey this Christmas…

Premium Member In the Meadow

Out hiking one day I happened  upon a little meadow.
The sun was on its downward path and its light
shown gently . A quiet stream came from 
the northern hills and wound a ribbon through
the  grass. Blackbirds called from the reeds 
along its shore, and the shy brown eyes of a
doe watched me from a little pool where she
had come to drink. A wild rose bush trailed its
vine across a fallen log, and the buzz of bees
came to me ,as lovely as a symphony. I could 
only stand and drink in the scene before me,
 fearing I might intrude on natures wonder.
It came to me that when the trivia and angst 
of daily living become a burden, remembering
 moments like this might lighten the load and
give perspective to the lives we lead.



This little meadow is in the Lassen National
Park in northern California. It is one of the
 most beautiful places I have ever seen. A bit 
of a hike, but worth every step.

Premature Cremation

A sliver of bright light
seeps into the darkness
Echo of voices reverberate inside my head
I'm in limbo,
I can't move
Am I alive, am I dead?
I don't feel any pain,
I don't feel much of anything
But there's a sense of dread foreshadowing me,
an unease that I can't seem to shake free
I want to scream,
but I'm disoriented thoroughly
My eyes move, that's all, nothing else
So I glance around,
I see white lab coats, and black body bags on metal slabs
An antiseptic smell permeates the air,
masking the scent that death lives here
The voices are slowly becoming clear,
and what I'm hearing brings horror to my ear
They're talking very dispassionately about dispatching me,
how there's no need to contact next of kin, given I'm government property
I give a silent scream: somebody help me please!
My lips can't move though,
I'm paralyzed completely
What happened to me, how did I get in this predicament?
Memory is foggy, with only one mental flash coming in and out
A battlefield with sounds of gunfire and bombs,
I must be a soldier no doubt
But those cold, rational voices intrude on me again,
and I get more terrified by what they're saying
They say they want to remove my cybernetic limbs,
download the memory in my positronic brain
Place it in a new prototype version, then scrap the remains
Burn all the evidence,
incinerate any signs of their illegal activity
I want to scream I'm alive
Listen, listen to me!
I sense movement, wheels rolling swiftly
Now I'm descending into a dark place,
towards a room aglow, with a sign above it that says:
Ye who enter, abandon all hope
I let out one last silent scream
My eyes widen as I approach the flames, but I can feel no heat
I hear my inner voice intone a final notation ...
RCN unit #0247895
has been summarily sentenced to a premature cremation


Ignite My Intellect

Infiltrate my mind
Permeate my reason
Make me lose all self-control
Commit lyrical treason

Enter my hidden chambers
Decipher the encryptions on my walls
Manipulate my thoughts
Make my rationality fall

Breach my comprehension
Complicate my conception
Intrude on my insight
Invade my perception

Penetrate my mental
Boldly state your claim
Ignite my intellect   
Watch it burst into flames


Chiquita
***L.I.***

Tolerance

Today it seems to be about others rights.
Our minds have set out for certain fights.
Listen, I never want to intrude on you.
Everyone has rights, this is indeed true.
Reality, we cannot meet every ones desires.
After all some ones rights will be lost in fires.
Now and again we have to give into nature.
Creating acceptance for certain nomenclature,
Even we need to tolerate, our fellow human creature.

Courage

I pray the courage to speak aloud
And wish my heart to be not proud

Daydreams intrude on my every thought
Anxiety builds, my mind is fraught

My heart speaks volumes, mouth is mute
Thoughts are rich, actions dilute

Admired from afar but never approached
Will my love for you ever be broached?

Two Lost Souls

My love for you grows more intense
All I have to do is think of you
How is it possible to feel more love
When the love in my heart is so strong
It feels like it could burst in two.

When you and I are together
It is the happiest time for me
Nothing else seems to matter
I am content as a woman can be.

I believe god led us to one another
Two lost souls looking for love
We found this love in each other
On the wings of two flying doves.

We are meant to be together
Noone  should keep us apart
Depression is what we feel
When obstacles intrude on our hearts

Premium Member Hear the Roar

H ow do memories retain the brilliancy of star’s vanes?
A nother time another place, would memories have such grace?
P erhaps, it’s simply distance, that works this mystery this mischance.
P oor substitute for touch this distance metaphoric rush.
Y oungsters apple cheeked blush, Gran’s lovingly shush.
N otice only the brightest twinkle in a baby eye or a mother’s guise.
E very fused image stays crisp and lovely for all days.
W orry need not intrude on the sentinels of solitude.
Y our heart’s delight will outshine any simple test of time.
E ndlessly remaining new, bright, young and warm.
A rriving at the end of even nights most darkened morn.
R oaring with star fire and flame ‘till all who’ve lived….live again.

Your Old Flannel Shirt

your so warm against my body
i need to feel you wrapped around me on those cold night
when
nothing 
is going right
and the world is lonely
for me
and full of strangers
who
use me
or 
intrude on my life.
when you're around me the world just
m
  e
    l
     ts away
and i sleep
knowing that you are there to comfort me
i can hold you
all 
night and know that i am SAFE
from the evils lurking about.

you're always there
letting me be whatever i need to be
all those times when my tears
covered you
when 
my mind was confused
and
my heart was broken
you were always there
without question
to keep me
warm and safe.

MAYBE
when time has past
a year or two from now 
and you
are
old
and 
worn
with nothing left of your being
but perhaps
a button
i will be ok
and the world 
won't seem
such a hard place to 
live 
anymore!
                                    Shadow

Photo Album

It first appeared during their wedding 
along with the other gifts that were given 
by family and friends celebrating
as two hearts were made one and uniting 

Then it was seen again on the day of the 24th
as the last child, a girl, was born
before that, there were two boys that arrived
ten years earlier. as it was depicted in the picture

Lastly, it lay on the bedside table, open
Not a space not filled with captured moments
the photo album now old with rusty scent,
and tears intrude on pages a middle-aged man was depicted

Now the old man has passed away 
leaving only photographs turning old and gray 
upon the photo album tattered from late night reminiscence
of the memories since 30 years ago on their wedding day.
© Lala Merx  Create an image from this poem.

Breakfast With a Minotaur

Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur. 
Of all things a frigging minotaur. 
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes. 
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap. 
He bounced up in full guard. 
Me being me I asked him for simple directions. 
Telling him that I thought I was lost. 
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two. 
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow. 
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one. 
One step further, I added. 
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while. 
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but, 
How about you let me bum a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner. 
After all who can be mad over breakfast

Signs of I

I feel like an Episcopal priest before losing his faith, 
a traffic accident thrown in his face, renouncing 
my faith even though my younger brother believes 
I'm more than just a human being, I'm sort of a saint 
without ever stepping a foot on a field, but why 
does he still look up to me and all my bad habits? 
Playing ballads against an empty glass of hope 
thinking how mysterious this world really is 
as crop circles engulf our minds with the 
possibilities, but I guess happiness is a hoax 
as I stare out this bedroom window laughing 
at nightmares just to let the world know how 
brave I am to peak out my once dry sheets 
and stare out the window at the creepy silhouette 
standing alone undearneath the midnight stars, 
but don't be alarmed, I am not scared of a soul trying 
to intrude on my ego, like if I am somehow exempt 
from the rumors of mortality. I feel the footsteps 
of strangers walking around in the shadows hiding 
while dogs bark curiously at phantom noises coming 
from the same place I just pointed my finger at. 
Maybe it's a sign that we are not alone on this earth 
or maybe it's a sign that nothing is furthur from 
the actual truth. Boarding up windows makes me 
feel safe but not invinsible on some rainy nights 
when my newfound fright gets the best of me. 
No matter where I hide, attic or basement, i'ts all 
the same, I still yearn for my inhaler feeling like 
a hostage ready to give my final words to the world 
before I pass away into the toxic realm of SET, 
swinging away into pity's arms, I'm acid to my own 
self , toxin in my bloodstream. Listening to 
beautiful sounds in the background as I begin to 
tap on empty water glasses just to feel sane 
before the asthma attacks my lungs and I loose 
control as sounds begin to exchange questions 
with my sanity. The sound of strings all around me 
and I'm beginning to understand each note, the 
reason why tonight on the bay of regret I float.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace