Best Lean Back Poems
I dance upwards;
below me,
the waves slap the cliffs
and beat the rhythm.
Wind whipped clouds gallop
with flying manes
across the blue plain of the sky.
The wild geese resent
our intrusion;
honking displeasure,
they swoop a warning:
we are guests here.
Amid the cedar fragrance
of summer and freedom,
I lean back
into the arms of the world.
Little droplet
your time is near,
never fear,
be part of it.
Fall into the great ocean
your conscious way,
unconscious stay,
Nature's final notion.
Lean back
let it go,
it happens so,
embrace the black.
Droplet make a tiny splash.
Whisper in your Bardo ear,
till you're no longer here,
and flesh turns to simple ash.
So sleep little droplet,
how sweet the dew.
To love it and live it
and to start anew.
The glamorous, tuxedo look
of the hollow wooden body
tuned perfectly with its four
strings manages to embody
a heavenly favor of sad energy
as a bow is drawn across its strings.
Its notes waltz upon my soul
and awaken and pull against
my attuned heartstring imagery.
Its soothing chords being played
captivate, while joyful warm tears
swell and slowly flow.
Priceless, merry thoughts of my children
growing up long ago, playing ball
in the summers or on a wooden
sled in the snow.
The absence of my husband I dearly miss.
Coming home exhausted from work,
I'd wrap my arms around him,
then lean back and smile
at the love we had for each other.
The sad sounds the violinist awoke
from the violin as they played;
memories never to be forgotten.
8/8/2024
"Deep Duet"
When I write I feel my fingers tapping keys
In my mind they are stroking black notes and ivory
You are sitting with me
Place your warm hands on mine
“Metronome”, you whisper
Warm breath on my neck close behind
“But there are rules”, I say
I lean back into you
Time to move in tempo
We are deep duet
He colours my world
Intermezzo
Keys
Love Notes
Sharp
Accidentals
White and Black
(Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)
"Love is like playing the piano, first you must learn to play by the rules, then you must forget the rules and play from your heart".
"An accidental, in music theory, is a musical notation that is used to raise or lower the pitch of a note. There are a handful of accidentals - sharps, flats, naturals, double sharps, and double flats. In piano, when an accidental precedes a note, it tells the pianist to play a different note from the original."
Lyrics/Let Me Love You - Peter Murphy
https://genius.com/Peter-murphy-let-me-love-you-lyrics
(Base USO club, Zweibrucken, Germany, 1963)
Of a lazy afternoon, I sit
propped up,
Bones aching, sorely tired from
lack of work,
And dutifully read the comic
strips
With bored eyes while my mind
dozes.
I sit enveloped in my peculiar
Grayish pallor, which clings
And will not disappear,
And martyr myself to the gods
of convention.
I smoke acrid-tasting cigarettes and
Loudly chew a cud of gum, popping it
Absent-mindedly, and I turn the
crinkly sounding
Pages, one after one, slowly
and intently,
So as not to disarrange the sheaf.
The dryish smell of printed
comic strips
Irritates my nose, but I don't
sneeze --
Merely wriggle it a bit for some
relief.
My brightly polished shoes are propped
Upon the table and I lean back and tilt
the chair, and my hair
Is closely cropped and combed with care,
no strand
Out of place, pomaded and arranged.
My clothes are neat and clean
and stylish
And I brush away a nonexistent
crumb and
I slowly chew and loudly pop my gum,
Moisten index finger, moisten thumb,
And turn the colored printed page
of comics,
Snicker at the antics pictured
While I glance about.
And wonder.
I've been watching you for hours now,
wringing your hands
pacing the floor
watching the monitors
holding his hand
never leaving his side
Your spirit is strong,
he feels you by his side
knows you are there,
hears your whispered prayers
yet you are oh, so tired,
I see it in your weary face,
your bloodshot eyes
I'm here for you,
when you are ready-
pull me close to his bed,
lean back and take his hand,
close your eyes for a few minutes.
I'll stand watch with you,
I'm here for you, and
I'm not aganist catching a tear or two
I see you looking at me-longing for relief
He won't think you weak if you
sit down for a while--so,
Go ahead--
Pull me close to the bed,
take his hand,
lean back,
close your eyes,
rest.
I am here for you.
Underneath, you above,
Hold me close,like a glove,
You whisper my name,"yes love",
Meant to be,white doves....
You lean forward, I lean back,
You pull my jeans,I lift your top,
You bite your lips,I hit the spot,
We tremble like leaves,and then collapse...
Me and my fellow buckaroos have had a real rough day.
Plumb tuckered out, we still are not ready to hit the hay.
Our bacon, the beans and biscuits have all been gobbled up.
My coffee now is growing cold inside my old tin cup.
Sitting around the fire, it feels good to just lean back.
A harmonica my friend is taking now from his "war sack."
melancholy is his tune. Two cowpokes who have guitars
are joining in with my friend Jake. I look up at the stars.
I want to liven up the scene, so I sing them my new song -
the one I wrote a month ago. The others sing along.
I love this life and being on this current cattle drive.
Not married yet, I'm saving up. At least I can survive!
It's time to get our sleep in. My bedroll's spread out. By and by,
I'll be deaming about my gal Sal beneath this starry sky!
Jan. 27, 2021
Jan. 27, 2021 for Line Gautheir's 'Cowboy Poetry' Poetry Contest
Tissue
Do you sleep as I do
Bent upon a dream that breaks you
Lean back in a whiskey stupor
What the hell where these dreams ever made for
To burn in flightless wings
Angel kissed with Friday night wishings
And take the bitterness pill that life has in hand
But never understand
Let the rain fall on your window
If the glass ever would remind you
Of tears that I shed
Are they now a romance of dissent
Toast and marmalade for tea
Sailing ships upon the sea."
-Tin Tin, 1971
Goats and marmosets for tea
Snails and thrips and angry bees
You're more beautiful than me
With your tea served in the trees.
As the sun plays through the leaves
Chipmunks leap from limb to limb
Striving to be biscuit thieves
Fill your teacup to the brim.
Start mine with a bit of cream
Sip my tay, lean back, day dream
As the marmosets convey
With the chipmunks they would play.
— — — — — —
A walk through the old town
and a girl on the street near the stone bridge.
Brown eyes with withered memory
covered the crying soul,
which wiped the sand of the past from the shoes.
Heart oppressed by the coldness of the mountain
overhanging the walnut crown.
The Tao of Time pushes the heartless crowd,
which tears the curds and stains your dress.
Where did you lose your dream, Emily?
And how did your joy break on the cobblestones?
*
Your way into the unknown within yourself
is a walk by the lake of secrets.
An ordinary autumn day when you borrow a new dream from fingers in your hair.
A Kiss by the old tower
where the chains of the past rattle.
Illusionist from Hudson River,
binds your heart carefully while you watch how,
with his bare hands,
unlocks the chest of secrets.
*
Kisses for the body and words
which I write on your stomach and chest.
Thoughtful over the verses of the prayer
by the light of a cigarette
at night you read the symbols on my skin.
Fingers around the waist,
they take off the longing bright moonlight
while white light is approaching
over the surface of dark water
and climbs onto our table full of fate cards.
*
A hug in the middle of the room
and trembling of the body tinged with fear.
A nest full of silence
delivers chest pain.
The stars are whispering from the heavens
soothing plan for the days to come.
Just lean back and listen to what your heart tells you,
that’s the dream looking for you, Emily.
— — —# — — —
In the Shadow of Sunlight
It is one of those glaringly bright days that
make your eyes water painfully.
You can't see everything at once but in short glimpses and peeks. Between blinks, half an image forms, blurry around the edges.
You raise your hand as a shield, squint, lean back and tuck your chin, grimacing.
You thought you heard her say your name.
Searching in stuttering snatches,
Looking in limping lunges…
like a slow motion film in staccato strobes.
She begins far away but ends close, so close that her form blocks you from the light and you see her as the shadow of sunlight. She is glowing around the edges like a phantom.
She is smiling into your eyes for a moment.
The relief of sight, of cool darkness, and then gone in a flash of brilliance once again. Balking, you ask her to wait! Wait just a second! Why do your ears depend so much on your eyes? She speaks but without seeing her mouth forming words you're unsure of what she's said…dissipating as she goes anyway until only a whisper.
“I love you darling…”
And that's when I wake up and remember she is gone. Gone for just over 20 years now. An ache in my stomach and tears prick my sleep swollen eyes. I turn to my side and tuck my hand under the pillow…try to get back to my dream.
Sometimes it is the light that blinds us to the truth and darkness that soothes the burn.
Sick, sick, sick
I must be sick,
subjecting myself to
this level of frustration.
Hours of work at
this monster they
call a computer -
type, edit, cut, paste ,
thoughts aside in italics,
line breaks scrutinized.
This needs changing,
take that line out,
add this pithy phrase
for clarification.
Finally, it's as near
perfect as I can make it,
lean back and sigh,
admire the finished draft.
Just space the whole thing
a tad to the right.
NO! NO! Quick
as a lightning flash,
blank page appears.
where is it?
Can't get it back -
X*#0?*#X*@#
What can make the heart grow fond
I'll give you the tip
Nothing can satisfy your taste
Like Scottish Steak and chips.
Juicy highland cattle steaks will
melt just past your lips
feeding well the hungry soul
That's Scottish steak and chips.
What can put some fat on you
on your frame and hips
you'll never ever fade away
With Scottish steak and chips.
There's no food in this modern world
whether haggis, burgers or fish
that can match the beauty and taste
of Scottish steak and chips.
TV chefs seem unawares
and seem so ill equipped
of talent, skill and feel required
to cook Scottish steak and chips.
No need to be serious
Always poems to make you think
Need a bit of humour
Eating Scottish steak and chips.
When grandchildren ask about the nation's dish
"is it haggis or whisky nips ?"
I'll lean back in my rockin' chair
eating Scottish Steak and chips.
Underground French café
Sun has gone astray,
Gone home for the night,
I sit in dim half-light
Seated alone in my booth
Feel calm, distant, aloof
Cool breeze coming from
The creaky door at the front
Live jazz, delicately playing
In the background, I’m swaying
Laid back, to the beat
The hi-hat moves my feet
The snare and the kick
Compel my fingers to click
Index digit taps on my table
Only here is where I’m stable
Amongst all the others
Alone, like me, not bothered
Atmospheric transition,
Here I am free, before in work-prison
Stuck in the daily grind
Working the dreaded nine to five
It tries to steal my mind
Sucks away my precious Jazz time
Misty room; smoky and sensual
My time, Jazz is my cherished jewel
Oozing class, style and flair;
Sophisticated; naturally debonair
That cannot be imitated
Its natural, not replicated
It’s Jazz, ‘Hmmmm’, I relax
I sit back,
“Chillax”
Waitress strolls by, I sip my drink,
Feet up, no one cares, at least I think
Sultry singer takes to the stage
I smile and lean back, an audience awaits
Blissful sounds escape her lips
I hear the purest Jazz you could ever wish
I close my eyes, and think of the notes
Hear the song this singer conceived and wrote
The Jazz dream; she unmistakably has captured it,
The song she sings,
Well, you’ve just read it….
The Jazz Dream….