Best Right As Rain Poems
You'll find it in the crimson eyes
of a throwaway photo somehow frozen in time.
When the past painted us like demons
with secret fury.
And you'll find it in the smell of a burning memory
like melting microfilm becoming enraged
(gifted with the freedom to deny
first appearances)
You'll find it in the cedar smoke
of Tyndale's earthen cage
roasting in a bale of hay for crimes unknown.
Where the fire of his message burned mighty
through a thousand hungry hearts that day
(where ancient ink once again
took a detour into youthful veins)
You'll find it in the velvet ash
of a (just one more) cigarette
being flippantly flicked into December sky
for reasons unknown.
Where yellowed fingernails bear witness
of freedom to live and freedom to die,
leaving not an inch of space to analyze;
for the fickle flames - much like life -
waits for no one.
You'll find it in the platinum tendrils
of a Colt 45, that so quickly took a life,
in the burning heat of an eternal second.
Where curled fingers and steady stare
makes it painfully aware
freedom is a pitiful beauty, ugly as sin,
and as right as rain
(ask the victims of Hiroshima --- they'll tell the same)
You'll find it in the vermilion sky
blazing brighter than passion pure;
stopping the world gears, of rat-race routine,
and turning a thousand rusty necks Heavenward
Where minds silently unhinge (for a moment)
And fear itself begins to cringe (for a moment)
When faced with childlike wonder
blind eyes will see.
A rejuvenating spark
this freedom can be.
And you'll find it the explosion of ecstasy
like a rose blooming in tenacious time-lapse.
You'll find it in the Cherokee midnight dance,
being warmed by the tongues of freedom personified.
Where Common Sense no longer applies,
for when freedom found his heart's desire,
you know it was a compromise.
Losing his mind, and losing his life,
in the process of a martyrdom
for all things beautiful and all things temporary,
in its earthly essence
... where freedom finds the fire,
you can't tell the difference.
Written March 23rd, 2016
For the Where The Freedom Finds the Fire Contest Hosted by Justin Bordner
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba, ba, blackishly wishing I was right as rain.
Words accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken my sheepish heartbeat
Yet I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to what other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain draining
as my barnyard thoughts are straining
I can’t translate what they’re saying.
It sounds to much like blah blah complaining.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep
into the darkness we’re destined to creep.
Sad sadistic secrets you’ve burdened us to keep
So we push our charred thoughts way down deep,
as we travel paths dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing us weep.
While I admire fleece as white as snow.
I’m not inclined to go where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe just because they travel slow.
The True Shepherd wouldn’t lead them to and fro
I listen to my uneasy queazy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba, to the slaughter they go.
For Wow Me Poetry Contest entered August 26, 2019.
Written August 21, 2019
Re-entered in John Hamilton’s N/A contest
"If someone listens, or stretches out a hand, or whispers a word of encouragement, or attempts to understand a lonely person,
extraordinary things begin to happen."
~Loretta Girzartis
----------------------
reminiscing reasons
ruminating rhyme
pondering reality
recalling thoughts sublime
never-ending pain
unremitting sorrow
evoking one recurring theme
a farewell to tomorrow
exhausted from the hunger
disabled by the thirst
consumed by each and every loss
will ‘better’ make things worse
thoughts embracing 'freedom'
dissipating pain
awaiting the tranquility
after so much rain
----------------------
"I have learned now that while those who speak about one's miseries
usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more."
~C. S. Lewis
"Burden" (Lyrics)
Let me carry your burden
If something’s not right I will let you know
Like the paint that’s drying on a heart that’s broke
Let me carry your burden
Get you back on a high when you’re feeling low
When the weight’s too heavy but you won’t let go
Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time
So let me carry your burden
Let me carry your burden
When your might’s on fire but your mind is cold
And you’re fanning flames that won’t keep you warm
Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time
Let me carry your burden, O brother mine
Let me carry your burden
Come tomorrow you’ll be right as rain
It’ll quench your fire
Wash away your stains
Come to me my brother and I will sit with you awhile
Pretty soon I’ll see you smile
And you know you will
No matter how much you're hurting right now
You know that everything will change in time
Oh I just might see it in another light
Got no dog here in the fight
I could carry your burden
O brother mine
Songwriter: Foy Vance
I see an aging Panagiota with the soul of a youth.
Untouched by hatred~yet despised for, as she's always telling the truth.
Utterly, unwilling to be a crowd pleaser.
She has grown to know the hollow emptiness of being a groupie-gratifier.
A big Heart to her, counts more than the brilliance in any word play in the head.
She loves poetry of Shakespeare that throngs here consider quite dead.
She knows the arrogant here who knock at her heart's door, oh my so loud?
And evaporate quickly,as insignificant raindrops after a storm followed by a golden-bright cloud!
She knows the hopelessness of playing life's little victim.
With the onset of great pain, hardship and lonelines,she blossoms, right as rain.
Threatened by males here to "change her poetry style or else,"
These macho nobodies have lit her soul afire, nothing more ignorant delights to ainspires her.
She knows quite well the legion of names of the BEST who ignore her.
She really doesn't care, she realizes she is, indeed, first and forever,God's poetic daughter.
You won't find thousands of one-line poems from her.
She wants her poetry to make your velvety-heart positively beat loudly and almost purr.
This is the self in the mirror, I have found at Poetry Soup.
No big arm of trophies nor winner am I, just an ordinary woman, with her quill in glory, acknowledging God in the sky.
To God be the Glory. Thank you, close friends and ones yet to come....
All my love~
Panagiota Romios
February 5, 2020
7:00am PST
POTD. February 7, 2020
Amidst reality of my life two single things remain
inflection of your voice and glow of your tender eyes
held safe by this memory we become transparent rain
wild as the tidal waves of Bristol souls of no disguise
fluid as the ocean we are open inlets, giving rise
sepia moments of a little cottage hidden in the cove
the scent of sweet cinnamon and the taste of your clove
the cackle sound of unseasoned wood against the brick
we sucked the flavors of our passion, and called it love,
holding on to each other, like flames on a candle wick
molten wax and liquid centers with all I hold so dear
when the moon comes into view the stars turn into glass
willful moments arching as tender reeds adhere
we spiral down the staircase, of God's Mandir
we find the miracle of us, and know that it will last
caught between two soft spots we are cloaked in silk
like two lovers in heaven or two lonesome sacred elks
amidst the reality of my life, two single things remain
the taste of a kiss and the place from whence we came
you my first love, were always right as rain.
August 27, 2021
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest Name: Vagabond Dreams
The Things Our Parents Said
By Robert (Bob) Moore
The things that we remember, from days of long ago
we believed, it was all true, our parents told us so
we now know they were kidding us, a trick on me and you
to make us do just what it was, they wanted us to do
If I was pulling funny faces, from something that was said
my mam would tell me “stop it”, and then she’d shake her head
you’ll be sorry, she would say , “for if the wind should change”
that’s the look you’ll have forever, everyone will think you’re strange
we were told, “to catch the worm, we had to get up early”
you had to “eat all of your crusts, if you wanted your hair curly,”
if you “asked a stupid question, you would get a stupid answer.”
and if you dared to answer back, that would be disaster
it did not matter what went wrong, “a cup of tea would fix it”,
if you were at your Granny’s place, you might even get a biscuit
“you will live by my rules, while your living at my place”
“because I said so, that’s why”, and “wipe that look off your face”
“if all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it too”
“I just hope when you have kids, they’re all as bad as you”
“don’t you dare do what I do, you just do what I say,”
“I’ll even help you pack your bags, if you want to run away”
“be a pigs foot in the morning”, that is what my dad would say
if I ever hurt myself in some really stupid way
I didn’t want a trotter, growing from my arm or brain
don’t “Kak your Keks”, it’ll soon heal up, and “you’ll be right as rain”
If there’s kids starving in China, does it help to eat my food
“I’ll have to wash your mouth with soap”, if you don’t stop being rude
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you”, “don’t take that tone with me”
“I’ll give you something to cry about” just you wait and see.
We all remember things we heard, and promised not to say
but now and then our parents training, just gets in the way
and we find that we are sounding, just like our parents did
and passing these silly sayings, down the line, and to our kid
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025
I saw a merman
(Dedicated to Andrea Dietrich)
I saw a merman in Andrea's den
Alive and kickin' and chewin' her pen
He seized on Andrea's heart
The young Merman was so smart
He said, 'a kiss I'll be as right as rain '
Charcoal Sheep
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba ba ba, sorta blackish, wishing I was right as rain.
Worlds accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken this sheepish heartbeat.
I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to warnings.
All the while the other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain drain
as my barnyard thoughts strain.
I can’t translate what they’re saying,
but I feel them point and complain.
My paradigm won’t shift though,
I have a glass ego to maintain.
So I download my brain
into my mainframe.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep.
Into the darkness
we’re destined to creep.
We have those sad sadistic secrets
you’ve burdened us to keep.
So I smudge charcoal thoughts
dangerously deep.
I prefer paths, dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing me weep.
You defile fleece as white as snow.
I resist going where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe even though
they travel slow.
The True Shepherd
wouldn’t lead them to and fro.
I listen to my uneasy queasy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba,
off to the slaughter they go.
Let me be a rose onto thy name
place a frivol kiss upon my rouge
wild as a breath of life I'm never tame
caress my petal soft, my subterfuge
Roses live for water, sun and shine
hold a stem, know that you are mine
I bloom at every turn of love my dear,
wild flowers are always keeping time
I am a rose of valor treat me kind
and I will never rob you blind
Place me in your heart and sing to me
until we both have set our hunger free
Let me be a rose onto thy name
I'll turn you over, make you right as rain
Fantasy star of my heart dance with me tonight
share your gown of light and take me to the moon
Drive me to the plains of my sweet imagination
where anything is possible, if I believe...
Luminary radiant beams guide me to your even glow
partner me with Angels while I slumber deep
Return me, to the hammock of heaven and rock me gently
until the morning dawn arrives
Spun gold reveries of peace, love, unity
you frolic in my soul wanting nothing more
then to live in accordance with God's masterplan.
Everyone made welcome here, all is right as rain.
Perennial wonders of full chromatic light
a gush of crimson red a splash of shade
I'm fortunate enough to catch her flight
as tendrils fall before the bramble fade
she dances me around oh! such a bless
caressing both my eyes this pilgrim dream
is leaping in the air with seasoned kiss
and gifting me her loveliness supreme
each daffodil - a splash of yellow
a gathering of flowers on my pillow
I long to be a rose between two weeds
raying everything that owns a seed
and as she gifts me summer's grain
I too in silence turn it right as rain
this sweeting hour of repose this bless,
I claim it in as love, no more no less.
May 9, 2019
She met him at the door and closed the screen.
“Marie is sleeping in the den,” she said.
“She spoke to me today, and smiled a bit.”
He set his package on the patio floor
And sat beside her in the cushioned swing.
“So many years we’ve struggled with that child;
You grasp at straws, a grunt, a grimace, all
The same. Never really any change.”
“The doctor came. She hasn’t been herself,
You know. She let him close enough to touch her.”
“That’s a change.”
“She even left her chair
For him. He thinks it just some sort of phase;
Wait awhile, and she’ll be right as rain.”
“How would he know? We’d never know ourselves
The way she sits wrapped up from toe to chin
In blankets she won’t let you wash. She rocks
And sleeps and eats and nothing more.”
“But now she doesn’t eat. She always eats.”
“And seems to know exactly what she likes.”
“She likes your mother’s cookies—chocolate chip
And eats them by the plate if we permit.”
“How does she know which chip is which?
She throws the store-bought ones across the room.”
“Her taste, no doubt, is just as good as ours.
But now, she’s barely touched a crumb for days.”
“She drank her can of Sprite for me last night.”
He reached into his bag. “I bought some more.
I’ll check on her. She may be thirsty now.”
But in his hands, she saw more than the Sprite.
“You bought another doll—she doesn’t need . . .”
“But this is different. Squishier, and soft.
I thought, perhaps, that she might like the feel,
Although, I guess, we’ll prob’bly never know.”
She looked at him and smiled within herself.
She never knew just whom to pity most—
Marie, forever locked inside herself,
Or him who sat beside her in the swing
And struggled with the agony of love.
He took the doll and Sprite into the house;
In seconds he was back. He handed her
The phone. She caught her breath, and shook her head.”
“You’d better call someone,” he said. “I think she’s dead.”
How are you, are you under the weather?
I hope no one has stolen your thunder
Don't face the day with a white feather
Don't let this life rip you asunder
Come rain or shine, it'll be a breeze
Cloud nine always has a silver lining
Life can be harder than math in Chinese
While the stars take their time aligning
Take a breath, throw caution to the wind
And soon you'll be right as rain
This storm in a teacup will quickly end
It's just a gust and not a hurricane
Down in the dumps
Ducks drop in dams
Design the due in daily dots
Documentary life dreamt as a slept dog.
Do or die
Doesn't go down
Deplete or defunct
Dim fights betrayal in doo-wop
Dancing daily in dams
Daily bread, daily living.
Right as rain
Remembering the rainfall drops
Real green relaxes under the rules
The rule of evidenced remedies
The ribs remember the rigs
Ro-setta stone coins
Real life repeats.
13, April. 2018