Best Life Hope Poems
~Life Is Not a Fairy Tale~
I am finally beginning to realize
I have lived forever mesmerized
By keeping myself well disguised
And leaving my mind paralyzed
I had built my walls to hide behind
From you and me and all mankind
Somewhere deep inside my mind
Someplace no one else could find
I made the world a refrigerator
A constantly complaining procrastinator
I was also a hair-triggered detonator
Who became a social assassinator
Now I'm trying harder not to pout
So little by little I’m breaking out
Breaking out of my mental shell
Breaking out of my mental hell
I’m beginning to learn how to exhale
And put some wind into my sail
The time has come to tip the scale
For life is not a fairy tale
**************************************************
This poem says a lot to me today although I wrote it nearly 13 years ago. When my friend committed suicide on Nov 19, 1993, I began writing poetry shortly afterward. Bill suffered from depression and at times would not stay
in control of that. He went to the bar and got very drunk that night when Bill took his life, so that subject was always a question in my mind.
Would he be dead today if he hadn't gotten intoxicated that night?
This question had me looking a lot at my own life and this poem reflects that.
It is from the pages of my second book
Book 2 ©1996 "The Journey Ahead or Behind"
God Bless and Best Wishes to You All...Peace
Peace~
James
I know life is fleeting, it all but crumbles to dust,
willessly washed away by the passage of time.
So easily lain waste and forgotten.
Yet for me who knew her dearest,
so easily enamoured by her graceful nature,
swooned over by her cosmic appeal,
chose not to sever ties with this short life.
But honour her in my lasting days, knowing
full well the reconciliation that death shall bring.
Contest: One on the chin Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Date: 10/09/2020
Life as a Butterfly
Beautiful in every way
Flying free through life, not a care in the world
soaring the highest mountians
Flying with ease
Until he drops to he's knees
Wings broken, Soul damaged
But still finds hope to carry on
Life rebuilds in different ways
New hope is given and life begins, But without his wings
Walking along the new path that lies ahead
Trying to stay possitive without feeling like he's dead
He will swallow his pride and start a new journey
Walking and gaining strength along the way
Taking one day at a time
learning to live without wings,trying new things
Love and strength will get him through
Reaching new depths he never knew
Enjoying every moment of his new wingless life
Trying to stay focussed on the shining light
Taking each new breath with ease, feeling the beautiful breeze
Appreciating each new step, walking with no regret
There is a river, of blistering cold,
With a history unknown, and a past untold,
I hear it's waters, are like liquid fire,
Doused in hate, and tempered with desire,
I've seen its violent tremors, and jarring quakes,
The bones and destruction, it leaves in its wake,
But I've heard it's melodies, and sweet lullabies,
That lift my spirits, and dull my cries,
So I long to sail, upon this river of strife,
I long to sail, upon this river that is Life.
There is a lake, I long to cross,
It carries burdens, and too much loss,
But if you wait, till the midnight comes,
You may find your lover waiting, with open arms,
I've felt its cold, like the hand of death,
Yet it brings revival, and new birth,
I lurk by its waters, waiting and watching,
For stories and legends, or at least something,
For I may leave tonight, and I pray I can cope,
With the life I'll lead, upon this lake that is Hope.
But there is an island I long to shun,
Filled with man, and filled with sun,
It's rivers are sweet, and flow with grace,
And life goes on, at a leisurely pace,
There are fruits heard of, only in legends,
Where heroes roam wild, with their days to spend,
On this island there's a home, waiting for me,
Filled with those, that I long to see,
But this island I must shun, for though filled with mirth,
Is nothing more, than the island, that is Death.
Antelope.
A springbok runs fast on the savanna avoiding
lions and other predators, but ultimately it is
destined to become food for slayers and thus
useful. Going back two and a half million years,
my African ancestors too hunted them.
In Portugal the African heritage is quite strong,
their Fado tells us of a past forever lost.
Our life span is short, mere dust in the eye of
eternity, and people have bought bicycles in
the hope of living longer, we all hope to live to
be hundred years old even if we are overcome
by senility and lose track of time.
On a dairy farm, you will see a pastoral scene
brown& white cows, with full udders, eating
juicy grass, but they do give birth and if it is
a male calf it get killed after two weeks, cause
It is not useful, and destroyed.
There is no money to be made of milk-calves
few eat them and it cost more money sending
them to an abattoir, they are not even worthy
to end up as hamburger meat; and I find this
waste a colossal disgrace a sin against nature.
Lucky is the springbok
The wings finally untied
The broken feathers laid on bushes
Turned into ashes
The memory of lame rests no more
On the store of the brain-game
New Breeze has leased
The opportunities to be ceased
Life has transcended
Beyond the mundane
Not so wild in the wide world
Seashore is no longer apart
The heart now is meandering ways
To uplift the drowning soul
And make its way to the edge
Heavy is the treasure
That life has hidden
In the pockets of Bay
Looking at the sky
With a huge wide ray
I hope to see all of it
Once again in the lives of all
That can rise and enjoy the lane.
I wander through this world and I do get lost,
Though I become aware of what this all cost.
Sometimes the pieces do not always fit,
Sometimes I can’t see from this place I sit.
As the light retreats I wonder where it went.
Nothing returns from all messages I sent.
The stars and the moon shine so bright.
They seem like a reminder, now it is night.
Tail lights vanish into the dark night
Once in view, but now out of sight.
Things disappear that were once so clear,
As darkness surrounds I am left with my fear.
A beacon of hope seems to guide me through.
I awake this morning to a day that is new.
I hope and pray, the sun will shine,
To warm my soul, so I will feel fine.
So many things seem to get in the way.
But I am just glad to wake up today.
Maybe after time all will seem right.
My future’s before me, the sun shines bright.
I realize I am not bound to any course.
I feel some sorrow and find the source.
I know that happiness comes from within,
I step to the start yet don’t know where to begin.
Still it seems better than it was yesterday,
I gaze around to find another way.
All that I search for is right before me.
I just open my eyes and then I can see.
It isn’t a mystery I’ve been here before,
As a window closes it opens a door.
I gather the pieces from off of the floor,
My eyes shall see what there is in store.
Amazing Grace, such Amazing Grace,
When and how and why?
When did I know? How did I hear?
Why did you answer my heartfelt cry?
Amazingly, Amazing Grace,
came and rescued me;
From the gates of hell: I had passed away;
but dead! I couldn't be!
Amazing Grace I soon found out,
could cross the great divide.
It searched my heart and purged my soul,
I had nowhere to hide.
Amazing Grace spoke out to me,
in words quite firm and clear.
"I chose you with all your scars,
there is no need to fear."
Amazing Grace gave hope again,
when I guessed that hope was lost.
I opened my eyes in the treadmill room,
they thought they were seeing a ghost.
at the mission in the Bowery
when the addict comes in at night
they are ushered through electronic doors that
slam shut like a prison
echoing down the hall &
with few people on staff
they make their rounds in the greater part of the shelter
with walkie-talkies hooked to them
but no weapons or defense tools of any kind
which might allow for those spending their evenings
cleaning the laundry of the homeless &
taking care to the best of their ability
of those that the rest of society has left to die
in the garbage bin that is the piss ridden street---
in the emergency room
where those that walk straight off the street are allowed to
keep shelter,
but only shelter,
they need not even give their names &
they are not hassled by the help---
they remain huddled together
nodding off in a stupor
with the staff checking on this specific room
every 15 minutes
with the hope that no one has drifted off to an overdose---
those with the walkies also have a needle on them at all times
which contains a good dose of adrenaline &
after gratuitous exercises upon being hired,
of shoving the needle into a ripe orange
over & over
(as if this is supposed to prepare you for shoving it in a human being
who has just overdosed),
they are told to be on the ready
for such a moment to arise
when they will need to use it---
upon entering the emergency room,
those who have come in off the streets often,
having no respect for those with jobs & lives that
they can no longer even imagine, or perhaps from a greater disdain for
society as a whole,
they often ridicule the help,
cursing at them,
maybe not even conscious that they are doing so &
it is all in a night’s work to ignore or tolerate these insults
to the best of one’s ability
in hope that they are not struck or physically attacked
because an adrenaline needle & a walkie-talkie
isn’t going to stop someone who has nothing left in the world but
rage.
Glimpses of light are what keep me fighting
through the pain of the dark,
Those capsules of time are what warm my heart,
Where the light conkers the night driving out the dark,
This stops me from falling apart.
Like shimmers of hope, the glistening stars are balls of light
that fight against the night,
Freckles puncturing the abyss despite
the blanket of the darkest eclipse,
The light of the stars push through
their glitz cannot be dismissed.
Day and night are like representations
of the darkness and light in our life,
Despite how much darkness may plague your life,
Just like the darkness of the nights sky
The moon is like a big bright balloon and bright the stars shimmer and shine
soon on the horizon the sun will burn through the darkness
as it slowly rise,
Dispersing the darkness of the night, just like the darkness that plagues your life,
The sun will rise with the brightest light.
Light will always shine through even on the darkest night you'll see a star or two,
No matter the pain or suffering you're experiencing look for those glimmers of hope, that's the light shimmering,
Those small speckles save me daily,
That's what pulls me through, look for those lights in your life and it will truly save you too.
The pill of life would cost, I fear,
Much more than I can pay,
But I still hope there will be one
For saving lives some day.
A pill that conquers all disease
And takes all pain away,
I know, somewhere, some super brain,
Strong willed enough to stay
Is working on this superb pill.
I hope there’s no delay,
For I’m fast falling all apart
Like fabled one-horse shay.
Februzry 2, 2013
For Pill of Life Contest
Life is unique.
It is devastating, tragic and hard goodbyes.
It is rays of sunshine and it is butterflies.
It is tears and it is smiles.
It’s lying in bed for a week
But still sprinting for miles.
Life is planned, down to every detail,
Lowered expectations so we don’t get hurt
But life is the most unpredictable thing on earth.
Life is ink left on hands,
Notes scrawled on paper, messages carved in bark.
It’s looking for the moonlight
While dancing in the dark.
Life is everything we’ve left behind
And what we’ve imprinted on each other’s minds.
It's the ideas we have that rip at
The very fabric of the world’s seams,
It is people’s hopes and it is their dreams.
Drinking now the purple hour
last one left
bereft of power
moments dripping down your chin
see through seconds
stretching thin
some time caught behind your tongue
travels back to find you young
in my eyes I see you find
yesterday inside your mind
a flash of Sunday afternoon
on the boulevard in June
I wipe that summer from your eye
with fingertips and wonder why
the flow of time and tears goes on
Long after hope has come and gone.
But, sometimes when we think
all hope is gone
we find the strength
to carry on
our faith in God will see us through
so let's dry our eyes, me and you
and have one last drink
before the wine turns sour
a farewell toast to the purple hour
My niece, Johnette Loefgren, and I wrote this
Like a puzzle, I am
scattered, lost in the world
and mixed around to where
I'm difficult to complete.
Easy to defeat,
simple to beat,
all the deceit
and drowning in quicksand from
head to my feet.
Hearts racing,
my movements are now
slowly pacing,
I'm weak,
and weary.
The blood that bleeds,
the pain makes my eyes teary,
the enemy succeeds,
and the hurt continues to breed.
I crawl on my broken hands,
there is none that understands,
the wicked one and his demands.
The reign over my life is
pushing me away from hope,
I pray, I pray and I pray.
A change I hope to see
one day, a morning I hope to
see soon and wake up to in every morning.
I'm burning with eagerness, I'm sparking up
a desire, and its my pieces that fall into the
fire. I'm dying, I am losing, but will not
give up without trying. I won't lose, a choice I choose,
a fool, but a man is how I will stand and
put an end to when the end is at hand.
What day is today?
I've lost my sense and
Taste of direction
But life goes on and
Yeah, life moves on while
I'm here standing still.
Where the hell are my shoes?
I've got to get moving,
I've got to find someone,
Somewhere, somehow that can
Point me to the next road.
I can make it that far.
But life goes on and
Yeah, life moves on while
I'm here standing still.
While life keeps changing
This is where I'll be,
I'm here standing still.
Dear: I Haven't Met You Yet,
I hope that you're on your way,
Or should I go and find you?
I hope you haven't changed
While I've been a little caught up
And if I don't see you soon
Well life goes on and
Yeah, life moves on while
I'm here standing still.
While life keeps changing
This is where I'll be,
I'm here standing still.