Best Ropes Poems
I move, I move,
My wheels turn like wild things
My hands cry the rims
I run in my dreams
I jump with style
I dance
I move, and dance
My eyes sing like sopranos
My mouth uses color
Like a rainbow
Behind me
I run
I run and I run
The drip lines in my arm
Are parachute ropes
I steer them alone
To land here
I stand
I dream, I dream
Nothing keeps my mind
Inside my faltering
Little loving body
With dancing
Writing pen
***
January 13, 2017
On a wooded path next to the sea
Three strong ropes dangled from a tall tree.
They were hung there for swinging
So guess who was clinging
To one for dear life? Yes, 'twas me!
Seeing them brought me back to my youth
Though I rarely indulged then, in truth.
Still, temptation did beckon
And thus, I did reckon
I'd try it, though long in the tooth.
As I grabbed on, I laughed like a child,
Feeling silly and giggly and wild.
Somehow when I'm away
Other forces at play
Draw me to them and I am beguiled.
hard against the wall
the seat of death finally rests
in ironic drape, ropes hang
wicker basket waits
a twist, a turn, beheaded
mans inhumanity dealt
Frayed Bell Ropes
Time
did not
disfigure her
nor disillusionment
disarm the strike of clapper’s tears
shed in the agony of renewed peace.
fraying bell ropes forgotten joy
calling
home
6/4/2017
submitted to – New Form – The BELL – Poetry Contest
White house picket fence garden
Black hair kohl eyes blue rose lips
Chef folding egg whites into souffle
Defrosting preparing cooking lunch
Sculpture of a laurel-crowned bust
Oriental rugs bare wooden floors
Inhale a sweet antique floral air
Chink iced-tea glasses Dominoes
Don't know what I'm doing.
Trembling I learn
to express my thoughts
and feelings with
new exciting words.
Innocent yet mindless
to poetic etiquette.
No disrespect
to the masters
of it's grace and elegance.
Couldn't really tell you
a stanza from a blitz.
Hoping you'll all guide me
just a tiny bit,
so I dont look a fool
and can find my little niche.
I'm a beautiful mess in a dress or some sweats
I confess life is hectic right now and I'm stressed
Wont forget that I'm blessed but it's hard to remember. When I'm stayin at the shelter
With my son and these mice must think they family members
It get cold here at night it ain't even December
Yea I cry but I'll cry while I fight, won't surrender
But my muscles feel tender.
If Its not my kid on my shoulders, it's a Boulder getting bolder
Getting harder to hold, but I ain't gon fold
The world say give up I don't do what I'm told
And I'll do it alone, because I'm grown n I ain't gon lie bout my struggles I own it
The easy way, I don't condone it
The fakes, and snakes, I don't condone it
God don't like ugly, you'll reap what you're sewin
Just a lil dust on me but under I'm glowing and I'm still growin,
Gon get my baby a home he can grow in
You think u gangsta, I'll show you gangsta
Gangsta is not bout that tool that u borrowed
Gangsta is smilin at today's pain in hopes of tomorrow
When you break the family cycles, give em something ya Old heads cud follow
Like taboo this is truth you gon' swallow.
As long as my son happy, I won the lotto
As long as little E is happy, I won the lotto.
Im not hopeless I'm focused
The weak gon' scavenge like some roaches
The strong gon' find another approach n
I wrote this song while I was homeless
I wrote this song to help me cope and
Hands welted up from hanging on these ropes.
Yeah I'm bleedin now, got me slippin out
But don't you dare reach out, and try and help me down
I got this high some how, and I can't let go.
As I look down I see the work I've completed
I Look up n see, my goals undefeated
I'm out here I'm huntin there's pain in my feet
I'm heaving I'm feenin, my sons gotta eat .
chained
it’s animosity
and i know he is not mine
but the wolf longs to be free
i feel his agony in the form of anger
the ropes that hold us down
in every way keep us bound
and i hear his cry to be released
still what can i do
nothing
what forgiveness can he offer
to me a passerby
that wont loose him
it’s as though I’ve committed a crime
and that’s how my heart feels
if they refuse to claim him
tell me then
why do they shame him so
with guilt when he’s done no wrong
and now he can only sing the saddest song
a song of longing
and a song of loneliness
already held down
worsened by rejection
lack of affection
he is now weighted by depression
and no one else will listen
so i mourn along with him
the days of running free
i miss with him too
hearing laughter
and feeling loved
now long gone
by the binding ropes rubbing us raw
down on my knees begging please free me from these ropes with no hope as I try to cope holding on to these strings as my life depended as I fence off all optical illusions in my way as I have done so for far too long yet still strong trying to hold my own those around don't seem to notice my frown for my cover is that much clever than putting up a class act as a matter of fact fooling my self as well into deep of a hurled to come back from gray sky's linger eager for rain so draining is my struggles as I face them head on bend knees while reaching for the rope to pull myself out of these dark and lonely walls that keep me two steps back from going forward and going under stranger things keep happening all around me trying to break the cycle but the wheels keep on turning ending up in the corner of no return lost and alone no one to run to nowhere to go no understanding where you tend to stand no helping hands to reach all too consumed in their own affairs to notice one of their own is in despair reaching for air life doesn't play fair been there done that always the second wheel to those that matter for the better good I see myself with wisdom I have acquired through the years but still a lonely broken humbleness instilled in me don't look for sympathy just pure understanding as for why on this crooked road must i lead not as a follower but miss lead lost soul and eventually ill find my way its just a matter strong will to survive the UNthinkable ropes
My bug out bag would include my grandchildren.
It would have to be large, because I have ten.
My cat and dog would go in and my wild raccoons.
They count on me for their food right?
My husband could stay home.
I have had him so long we are redundant.
We can watch eight hours of TV
And laugh at only the same things
And say the same words
For the entire time, and only these words.
I would take a jug of red grapefruit juice,
and a five tires and a large bundle of rope.
Matches for a bon fire.
Wait! I am taking the cat out.
She is ordering the children about again.
Making one cry.
The dog gets to go; she is laid back.
Is that a rat? Who brought that?
Okay. If it has a name,
How can I say no to a pet?
Roar’n of the lion, silence of the lamb
O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o*
In pit of despair, color robbed from his face,
Joseph loosed from his coat, sold as a slave.
Roar’n of the lion, silence of the lamb
O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o
Swallowed by the sea, whale amidst the waves.
Jonah no longer pouts, he’s in a dark cave.
Roar’n of the lion, silence of the lamb
O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o
Bones imminent crush in this den of fur.
Daniel smells the cacophonous blood.
Roar’n of the lion, silence of the lamb
O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o
Splinters his hands and his feet.
Jesus punished on a crucifix stage.
Roar’n of the lion, silence of the lamb
O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o…O-o-o-o
8/11/2021
*slow meditation of the gravity of these words.
The lion and the lamb - both represent God
Turning and turning till I turn through myself, then into myself...
When we stand so close that I feel your breath
And we are looking into each others eyes
I feel the strands of love; as fine as hair
Reach out from your heart; and from mine
And they entwine within each other
They they wind their way into - and around - our hearts
And I feel that we are one
Full of passion; it's here I
stand,
with two ropes taut in each
hand;
neither yet worth to let go;
how long must I grip until I
know?
Mighty Atlas, I wish I could be,
for the earth it feels weighs
down on me;
the pain is torture and it's only
the start;
for now I can't let go but it
might tear me apart.
You done me
mosaic.
The rover has landed
on Mars.
Will you come
tonight ?
Circa.
I was searching
the white ants
on the blackboard.
They had drawn
a map
of the moon.
I would not
cry,
for the fallen tree.
It had left
the legacy
of ropes.
Satish Verma