Best Left Poems
Words left unsaid as teardrops fell
The price of love, their hearts would tell
And so they parted, love took flight
And left their hearts to lonely nights
Each unable to break loves spell
Distant sound of the old church bell
Rang through seasons they knew so well
Winter to spring, summer shone bright
Words left unsaid
Each had a broken heart to sell
As fire within they tried to quell
Memories fade in Luna's light
Stars wished upon twinkle in sight
Love's distant star, flickers farewell
Words left unsaid
--
9/22/17
Contest Name: Form U- U pick 'em
Sponsor; Broken Wings
Twas the night before christmas
and Christ was left out,
with no peep of the Good News,
no mountainous shout.
Stockings were hung
by the chimney the same,
but no one made mention
of the Savior's name.
On this sacred night
there were still shopping plans.
Their heart was poured out
through money changers' hands.
'Twas the hustle and bustle
of past Christmas Eves.
Once deemed a holy night,
now a den of thieves.*
Folks went into debt
for the pleasure to give,
not counting the cross
and what it cost to forgive.
Presents were plenty.
Wish lists were fulfilled,
but they didn't thank God
for the blood that was spilled.
An "X" had replaced
the unspeakable name.
Christmas without Christ
was now one and the same.
'Twas the night before Christmas
and Christ was left out.
The townsfolk had forgotten
what Christmas was about.
Merry Christmas to all; let Christ become your light.
*Matthew 21:12-13
And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves."
12-2-19
The cruel streets I walked made me sad
I looked not at him, nor at her
Those who passed me by, gutter grads
I felt at home among the curs
We were outcasts from hearth and home
Over the land our kind did roam.
Looking here and then searching there
As many as stars in the sky
By foot, by car, sometimes by air
We wanted to understand why
We couldn't go back where we'd been
Burned our bridges and that's a sin.
Some were poets within their hearts
A killer or two in the crowd
And some were like me; a la carte
Doing what it took to be proud
Some chased women, some ran from them
And in the melee some lost a gem.
I sit here writing words of mine
Wondering how many are left
Who write words and sell for a dime
I have escaped death's cold, cold theft
I have fought the fight and I've won
I'm old yes, but I've just begun
Remembering the days of yesteryear
when family ties were held most dear,
gas lamps flickered in the back street
while most of us danced a different beat.
Tragic alleyways of smog and smut
“Live over the brush”* branded a sl*t,
silhouettes infringe the darkest night
gullible back shift broke the morning light.
Adventurous nights at “Townhead Mill”
eight pints of beer the back porch thrill,
when no meant yes in rapturous skill
to fumigated music from “Nashville.”
Obnoxious libertine this bread man
bay curtain drawn delivery van,
the situation conspired indiscretion
clinical the world’s oldest profession.
Sporting gentlemen in summer bliss
caught first ball costly night on the piss,
pavilion home to moorside drover
many a chaste maiden bowled over.
Partial pilgrimage down “Bolton Road”
black and amber heroes round ball code,
liniment buoyant throughout the room
manly skills embroider the village groom.
Cardinal days steeped in “Rock ‘n’ Roll”
sire in fear of them out of control,
a colossal wedge between cultures
in shadows of decency vile vultures.
Repetitious days of school yard might
the bullies reduced one’s life to plight,
parents queried yet misunderstood
reasons for mayhem in the neighbourhood.
Lad and lasses lost in “Hide and seek”
games of “Stroke a back” every week,
by the old school grounds we all did laik**
now the street is naked for heaven sake.
Why on earth would a mind keep drifting back
this poetry constantly placing me on track,
when life was a role without fame or stars
only toil and trepidation and these scars?
© Harry J Horsman 2013
*Living in sin
** Play
“I will soothe you and heal you,
I will bring you roses.
I too have been covered with thorns.”
Rumi
When the whole world,
behaved like her enemy,
a homeless heart was buried
in a private place so deep -
out of sight and out of reach.
Each time her emotions were breached,
her metaphorical spade dug darker and deeper -
her shield against shallow predators.
A mind scattered like shells lost in the sea,
yearning for calm waves to offer a sanctuary.
Fate led to the doorstep of her heart's pulse,
each vibration connecting two throbbing souls.
Beyond her make believe veil,
I saw an enchanted magic in her eyes,
celestial candlelight flickering so bright.
A secret smile that could melt hardened hearts,
through luscious lips reserved for special ones.
Although skeptical of words,
there was a desire to bathe
her in beautiful poetry,
caress her sun deprived skin,
stroke the strands of her hair -
silently moisturising her wounds.
Delving into the depth of her persona,
without touch, I felt her so close;
scattered, conflicted, but determined,
bruised, battered, scarred, but not bitter -
flawed, fragile, but compassionately fabulous.
A diamond left to rust, one desired to shine.
A wounded soul with razor sharp thorns,
reminding me of Rumi's desire to heal and soothe.
Simple Musing
Silent One
14 October 2020
Chorus:
If lonely is a prison...
Lord knows I've done my time
From my lying destination,
To the truth I've left behind
There's another losing diamond,
In every card I'm dealt
I'll be holding on to nothing
Until there's nothing left
Verse:
Every word my mama said
Keeps exploding in my head
Son, it's not too late to turn around
Remembering...when my daddy left
With all those promises...unkept
Me and my old man..... share common ground
Bridge:
Silence is the hammer...
Memories are the nails...
Every path to freedom
Becomes an empty trail
Heartache is the music
Every day... the fear
Too early for confession
Too late to form a tear
Chorus:
If lonely is a prison...
Lord knows I've done my time
From my lying destination
To the truth I've left behind......
Protected by copyright
Twas the night before Christmas and I was a gasp
at the rumors that filled me with an odious fright.
For Santa Claus was now tired of working for free
and would be harvesting organs well into the night.
He would be looking for kidneys, livers and hearts
as well as others too numerous to mention.
All this was designed to lower his cost of production
and help his Elves with their healthcare and pension.
The reporters reported the disheartening news
that dear Santa had put an end to holiday cheer.
And to lock all our windows and batten the doors
to prevent a Christmas which could end only in tears.
Now the Media's record of telling the truth
was often wrong and extremely spotty at best.
So I had faith in Saint Nick and his message of hope
and would not give in to the lies they address.
So I fell into slumber to awake Christmas morning
and put my trust in the jolly old Elf.
But awoke latter that night when the stomping of hooves
caused several books to fall from the shelf.
Quickly grabbing a candle... I flew down the stairs
to see my tree laden with presents and toys.
As dear Santa had come through with his usual flair
and my trepidation turned to wonder and joy.
So I opened a window and peered through the night
and spotted the old Elf at the head of his sleigh.
I heard him yell from afar as he drove out of sight,
'You should rest in bed for most of the day.'
I pondered his point... unsure what he meant
as my body began to shimmy and shiver.
And as sure as the bells that would ring Christmas morn...
that fat bastard had taken half of my liver.
So as I lay in the bed and considered my stress
and the reason for my tension and plight.
But put it aside... when I realized by giving an organ
I put the spirit of Christmas in a more favorable light.
The End
Night before Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Date: Nov 29/2019
strange it was there just the other day
hanging about as usual,
reminding me in my mirrored image
of my definite femininity
now gone, am I less of a woman?
will you look at me differently,
or strangely as I do myself?
I never really gave it much thought before
of how things come in pairs
how lonely one would be without the other
how misshaped one appears,
no longer jutting forward,
proclaiming sensuality
thrusting into the limelight,
now scars and a flattened ego,
fill my robe, bras useless without stuffing
men, look at me in horror,
women in shock and pity
and with gratitude, yes that it is not them
my left breast is missing
no not missing, taken, stolen...
it was just a lump a few weeks ago
a tiny pea shaped knob,
that hid its cancerous intentions
so very well, yet lay in silence waiting
to steal away that part of me
that defined who I was
what purpose I served in society
am I still a woman, a sexual being?
I'm not sure, my right breast thinks so
but yearns for its mate,
the image in the mirror just doesn't seem right
unequal in its proportions, glaringly lopsided
my left breast is gone, surgically removed
I can still hear its scream
Because I love you I left.
Because I didn’t know I would love you I couldn’t wait,
I couldn’t wait until you will find the truth about me.
Because I love you I made you believe that I left you,
I left because I don’t love you.
Because I wanted you to continue your life with another one,
I made believe I wasn’t the one.
Because I couldn’t be with you I tried to hate you,
Because I couldn’t hate I pretend,
Because you couldn’t hate me I left.
I left quietly until the day you forget me,
Until you forget all what we shared.
Because I’m too bad and I couldn’t tell you that,
I just left.
Because it is too hard for you to know the real me,
And it is too hard for me to know that you knew,
I left.
I left because I feared that I would want to stay with you,
When I would see your eyes;
That I would like to be with you for the rest of my days,
I couldn’t say good-bye.
Because I can’t send this letter to you
I keep it near to my heart.
I read it every day to remember
To remember you.
To make myself believe
That there is good in this world,
To make myself believe
That I am a human been now beacause I love you.
I can no longer touch you
But here you are, still
Oh, how remnants of you continue to cling!
You're the motes I see dancing in the sunbeam
Your eyes will never again meet mine
But here you are, still
You're the gentle wind that continues to blow
the stormclouds out of my sky.
I'll never again hear your voice
But here you are, still
You're the rays of the sun beaming down
like a thousand moonbleams over my stygian abyss
You're forever out of sight
But here you are, still
You'll always be on my mind, and in my heart;
I still see you in dreams undreamt, in stars above.
So, you see, Dad, although...
I can no longer touch you,
Your eyes will never again meet mine,
I'll never again hear your voice,
and you're forever out of sight,
You're still here with me in spirit.
You never really left.
He's staring again, standing by his balcony door
The way he did each morning, even when I was there
Writhing in pain after my heart from my chest he tore
And as I walk away, my heart on my sleeve I wear
The emotional abuse was unconscionable
Yet for years I clung to hope he'd appreciate me
But his anger just grew, attacks became physical
Till I'd had enough and desired only to be free
My clothing, my perfume, many things remain behind
I'm standing now an I'm finally walking away
Wondering why for far too long I chose to stay blind
Proud I had the strength to leave, I greet a new spring day
I try to avoid the pending pain
It's impossible, like trying to stop rain
Issues surround me everywhere
Creating a harsh reality of fear
It's not about not having faith inside
It's just a trap with no-where to hide
A place where answers can't be found
A place with lack of nature around
Some changes never experienced before
At the same time standing on a falling floor
Health falters, striking poorly any given day
Plodding forward, multi-tasking is the only way
My courage is in what I can try to cure
My love will grow from anything left pure
Heidi Sands
6/3/23
POTD: 6/5/23
A spiritual sickness enveloped my stagnant heart.
I searched for her in darkened obscure visions,
A futile illusory chase that led to a desert of love.
Had I become addicted to her presence?
Deep in my heart, I knew that all was distorted.
I wondered if I really loved her,
Yet I could not bear the loss, knowing her as I did.
Finally, she disappeared from circulation,
It left my strength sapped from a wide goose chase.
Life trickled by slowly, as I lost my job, wasted my money,
Rendering my situation an almost irreparable ruin and loss.
Looking back, recollecting my bad choices
It took me some time to discern the inevitable damage
That rendered my skeletal life beyond repair.
Could I renew and restore my affluent fortunes?
Life had its ups and downs, like desert dunes.
All I needed was a fertile oasis. Walking on the hot sand
Was painful but I had to try. I began my journey anew.
Will I ever learn? Who knows? One can only hope.
After all, the desert is never endless though it may seem so.
I NEVER LEFT YOU
When youthful restless hearts hear defining calls
With volcanic strength they will respond
The impetus for adventure overrides
All rational thoughts, out of window they go
For youth knows no bounds of daring appeal
Twenty I was, when I heard the “buzz”,
With gusto and a lick of good sense I made the run
Carpe Diem was my exalted, exuberant cry
So I followed the path to places to me unknown
To her, I whispered with pain and sorrow
I must seek what the world to my lot bestowed
But be assured that one day for you I shall return
Feeling liberated and not knowing why
Effusive and with feigned bravery I bid to all farewell
The beyond had the smell of fragrant thrills
From America to America my journey began
Imbued with hope, dreams, and strong will
I began carving a new life, a new beginning
Dreams, goals ,and desires within me abounded
To fail was never a contemplated option
For failure the young bravely defies
All those memories of a half century ago
Come back to me in flares and bursts of fading energies
Now that I am approaching the sunset of my days
Wondering wastefully how it might have been
Had I not pursued the Echo of that life changing call
That outcome will never to me be known
But oh! How I long and yearn for that love I bid farewell
My ashes will one day fertilize a seed above that green hill
From that seed a tree will grow into a refuge
To shelter, in hot, sunny or stormy days, living fragile things
Then I shall sleep eternally in tranquil peace
Knowing that I kept, though belated to her my promise
And in serene harmony, proclaim, “I never left you my beloved Brazil”'.
Lies upon lies,
Death upon death,
Forever more nothing is left.
I sit and watch,
I stare at the touch,
I wait for the time,
What will happen? Would it be a crime?
Hits and abuse,
Nothing is left here for the little Moose,
Will she be a fray?
Or will she throw her tragic life away?
So many questions,
Too many misdirection’s
Will she look upon the flask?
Will she realise she has one last task?
Lies upon lies,
Death upon death,
Forever more nothing is left.
So many painful thoughts,
Will he ever be caught?
I stand and walk,
He won’t want to talk
I knock at the door,
I stare at the mess on the floor
She realised she had a final task,
I realised this quicker than half past
He is dead upon the floor,
His head hidden by the door
I close the door,
Half of his head is no more
He arm is gone,
Maybe she will mourn?
His body is cut,
In tiny shreds and nothing left near his gut
She took it all,
As we took off for her ball
Ready for another to make her mad,
She doesn’t feel at all bad
She hunts as her job,
She removes a pain killer because her head throbs
We sit in the car,
Maybe we can travel far?
I sit and have the giggles,
As she laughs she jiggles
You want to look out,
While I make him shout?
We have our job,
We make them sob
Lies upon lies,
Death upon death,
Forever more nothing is left.