Best Squeezes Poems
They sit in silence at the table
Eating their evening meal
He gently wipes the food from her face
This life they now live still feels so surreal
She now sits in her recliner chair
While he makes her a cup of tea
Emotionless and still
She stares blankly at the T.V
He closes his weary eyes and remembers
The who she used to be
Her sweetness, her laughter
And a life together fulfilled and happy
Asleep now in her chair
He reflects on where she has gone
Alone and confused in her own mind
He has missed her for so long
He helps her put on her nightie
Gets her tucked into bed
His kisses her and voices “l love you my sweet”
As he gently strokes her head
She takes his hand and squeezes it softly
As a lone tear rolls down her cheek
He smiles ,cuddles and reassures her
Lovingly whispers “Oh there you are my sweet”!
The cat rules our house, and she has us well trained:
We jump at the sound of her slightest complaint.
The day starts at six when I hear her loud cry,
Her pitiful wailing. I run to find why.
Queen passive-aggressive, she sits there and stares
Until I feel guilty. She silently glares.
I check on her food – only half full the dish!
I pour her fresh water. That wasn’t her wish;
She still has that look! In the bathroom I check:
The litter box maybe? Yes, there is a speck.
I scoop and I clean, and she, pleased, walks away—
She just wants it nice to use later today.
She squeezes right next to me onto my chair,
My pants and my sweater get covered in hair.
But she is so sweet and has such a soft fur,
And I like to stroke her, and hear her cute purr.
She made me become what I swore not to be:
The crazy cat lady- I think that is me.
January 3, 2018
For contest Crazy Cat Lady
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
The difference in saying you,
a great big unseen pointed finger, or we.
I didn’t know. Some figurines
wave while others scrutinize with wizened eyes.
The analytic panics, hairs raised by static.
The simple leans in to catch butterflies. One is cynical.
The other sensuous. One slaps your hand away.
One squeezes it. Personality
like the word itself broken in pieces, a flotilla.
In the storm the words like jigsaw waves.
In placidity, the sun’s too hot or doldrum’s ebb and flow.
We will make it!
Still, even in this exchange, coarse sand,
a castle with a moat. Your motives sought - there I go again
“Y O U R…”
Sisterly size-up. Am I trying to win? I didn’t know
we were preparing to arm wrestle. I’m unshaped,
neither the flat piece of a puzzle or linked.
The dreamy sky from the beach. Salt in the air,
eyes on the horizon, lap of the waves —
the same lift I feel when swinging high and higher.
The excitement of adventure, no one’s judging
my every word. I’m breathless…it’s breathtaking
when my feet float above the ground.
There I’m in the arms of love. There I point
and God answers with his digit reaching out, touching mine.
I am reborn by the finger of God.
We will make it!
12/19/2020
Inspired by Edvard Munch's oil on canvas painting - Ashes (1894)
The fire of passion between us has burned itself out,
These woods taunt us with their vibrant whispers,
I am tired of listening to the leaves laughing
and the trees teasing us,
Oh! What have we done?
My whole life has come undone!
Shame squeezes my soul,
Despair clings tenaciously to my being,
Frustration at having fallen into this hopeless pit!
Look at me and answer -
Is there any redemption left?
Any way to go back to life as it were before?
Why has Fate tempted us thus?
My heart aches for all that is lost between us...
How have we succumbed to the lust of the flesh!
Beyond repair, beyond rectification!
My wild hair is testament to how I feel!
I stare blankly at my bleak future
(if there's any left!)
You hide your face now!
Why didn't you think of the consequences
before doing the deed?
Why did you lure me into your lustful trap?
Ah, Me! I know I am equally to blame!
What I thought was 'love' completely blinded me!
Now I am left to mourn...
No! now WE are left to mourn
this 'blazing' passion that has burned us,
this 'fire' that has consumed us,
this useless heap of 'ashes' left behind!
I wish I were an angel
To flood your world with my light
To hold, comfort and cheer you
All through long lonely night
I wish I were a fairy
To flit about your dear heart
To give it tiny squeezes
When about to fall apart
I wish I were a goddess
Of beauty a paragon
So you would gaze and wonder
Thoughts of any other gone
I wish I were a muse
Living there inside your mind
To offer inspiration
When right words you need to find
I wish I were a princess
Blessed with luxury so fine
I’d make you live in splendor
If you promise to be mine
I wish I were a star
Sprinkling stardust down on you
Guiding each and every step
Make your dearest wish come true
I wish I were the moon
Working on your inner tides
Drawing you ever closer
Till in me your love abides
I wish I were the sun
Burning to the very core
Searing you with my passion
Rays touching what I adore
I wish I were a flower
To bloom nurtured by your care
Wrap you in my loving scent
Make life beautiful and fair
I wish I were the wind
Caressing you every way
Enfolding you in my arms
Seductress having my way
I wish I were the rain
That wets body through and through
That sprinkles love droplets soft
But then drums itself on you
I wish I were the sea
Foaming, churning ecstasy
To draw you into my depth
Riding waves, unleashed and free
But I am just a woman
I’m as simple as can be
But if you give me your love
All these wonders you will see
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Inspired in part by Shania Twain’s song: “Jealous” I love that woman…She is awesome. Wish I could see her in Vegas…She is there performing now…Such great songs….
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=en4GjDEHasI
I haven’t been here for many many years. Finally I took the plunge to revisit my childhood haunts. I approach your deserted dilapidated old house where I'd spent so many happy hours with you and Grandpa – all I have left are precious memories. I can almost smell the aroma of freshly baked bread, which wafted from your kitchen.
overgrown jungle
where once red roses blossomed
faded memories
As we walk down the garden path, my young son looks up at me and squeezes my hand tightly.
emerald velvet
covering the cracked pathway
time taking its toll
Years have passed so quickly, but now I have returned to visit as I promised. Slowly my son and I walk to the churchyard where we find your gravestone. The only thing my son has is your photograph and my memories - he never got to meet his great grandmother.
carved in black marble
your name is all that remains
river of tears flow
07~11~15
They sit out on the front porch,
with the grand-kids running bout
As they rock back and forth,
they're still in love without a doubt
Many years they've had together
each one the other's friend
Their hearts are joined forever
though life, is at it's end
Beyond the age and wrinkles
they're still young and carefree
Hearts so full and happy
as the never-ending sea
Eyes still hold the flames
that have burned from long ago
Hand in hand they smile,
as they're rocking to and fro
His touch still warm and gentle,
he beholds his angel's face
The words so soft and fragile,
"I will always love you Grace"
Her hand he gently squeezes,
and in an instant he is gone
She looks at the empty chair
that still keeps rocking strong
Sitting there alone,
she sheds a single tear
For many years he's been away
and now, her own end is near
A gentle breeze begins to blow
she feels his fingers through her hair
The time has come to re-unite
and finally leave this rocking chair
Bravely, she takes one last breath,
her lonely days now gone
No more to part from her true love,
together.....they live on
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay -
from the poem 'Under the canopy of pine trees by Eve Roper
UNDER THE CANOPY
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay.
Fervent scent gives undertow noses a heady sway.
Four eyes closed, we swallow the coniferous forest.
Love thrives in our paradisiacal protraction of rest.
Blinded to adversity, verdancy thrives in aurora splay
As our minds run into the river of sunlight to play.
We make promises — nothing sovereign outside our love.
He squeezes my hand, our engagement rings think of
Only this moment, the splendor of our crashing lips.
Our bodies envelope each other like an eclipse.
The force of nature — the arcadian elixir, its bliss.
I shall nevermore forget the chill of reminisce.
4/10/2020
Poetic lines from a Poetry Soup Poet - Eve Roper Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Silent One
I crawl into a cave called myself.
It’s dry and dusty, cobwebbed.
So afraid to be, alone in the dark,
“Who am I,” is my cry.
Then Trixie’s best friend comes along,*
like a cowgirl set out on a romantic adventure.
This changeling becomes a pirate or
a faerie tale...mingling with the deer and frogs.
but not too sweet, ‘cause she’s a spark plug.
She squeezes out a saturated rag of tears and snot,
for this cowgirl spots the forgotten one -
a little child who needs a hug,
and she has a way of embracing the child in me.
...and her poetry like taffy pulls,
twists in a delicious way, half-cocked.
I’ve learned from her to grab the stars and fly
as if Tinkerbell dusted me with rare pastels.
In my mind we’re dressed in
kicka$$ gowns and fascinators
merrily sipping sherry in
the garden of Make-Believe.
And by the way, I love my souper friends. Don’t feel left out.
So many touch me in so many ways. God bless you all.
And one last shout out to Caren Krutsinger!
I do it often,
drag a perfect morning
in through the front door of myself
and make it a reluctant guest,
replace its colors with my own
dour palette, drown out
its soft voice with noise.
It has become a habit, trying
to confine the morning's
width within my space,
hold its edges so it doesn't stretch
beyond my reach. Its freedom
is almost an anathema to me
for it exceeds my own.
How small my world has become.
The distance from one side
of myself to the other is getting
narrower, the little room left
is depleting breath by breath.
The light squeezes through
ever smaller windows.
And yet, as it came upon me
this morning, I was met
with a bright abundance
that had gathered at my door,
carrying forgiveness
for my habitual ignorance
and an invitation to step
outside myself, once more.
The slap of sneakers on concrete,
Fill my ears with hollow sound;
Like my heart it has a beat,
Steady thumps against the ground.
My eyes are wide, to take in any light,
But not many shine in the dark.
I couldnt stand another fight,
Another sharp and mean-cutting remark.
I stop to take a quick bent-over breath;
Soon I'll start again on my run.
This adreniline is like crystal-meth,
It'll keep me going, when I just want to be done.
My eyes open again in the night,
Surveying quickly the world around.
For this action I wont feel contrite,
Otherwise I'd soon be burried in the ground.
My jeans are ripped at the knees,
My shirt-a tanktop of the color black.
This need to get away is like a disease,
With not an urge to ever go back.
The lights shine on the road, a pale yellow-white,
They catch my green-blue frantic eyes.
Even with no one around, my chest squeezes tight;
Afraid that they'll wake up and find me gone, though i never said goodbye.
The railroad is up ahead, right beneath my feet.
I reach out my hand, and feel the Runaway Train.
I have one chance, I cant allow defeat.
Around the handel I toss and loop my thick silver chain,
And pull my self up, up and off the ground;
I keep up and hold on, with one last look behind.
To open the door it only takes one pound,
Then im out of the wind, inside, in the darkness, blind.
For a moment, I have the chance to breathe;
Gone from everything I've known:
No chance of dysfunctional familys,
No chance of ever knowing home.
Runaway Train, I've runaway,
The night abducts me.
The internal disorder has led me astray;
my mind is clearer, soon youd see.
I had but one choice left,
I chose the Runaway Train...
City streets spew fire on sunburnt July day.
Dabbing sweat from brow, I meld into paved sea.
Mick cries out "Angie" from quaint corner café;
slowing steps, I search his stripped-bare poignancy.
Strangers strut in sync with street’s allegro beat.
Pigeons peck concrete, hungry coos offbeat.
Sullen faces fall, diverting weary eyes.
Souls emit loneliness lost in sad goodbyes.
Exhaust squeezes my chest with each poisoned breath;
choking on my tears, I smell acrid deceit.
Amid spinning wheels, a stranger till my death.
On wide city streets, crowds rush by in defeat.
A restless, hazy sun sinks to moonless night.
Senses become keen with city’s fading light.
Midnight hour comes to call, taunting my dark heart.
Angel wings span streets as nameless child departs.
......for Clark
Thoughts are more sure-footed at
Low tide, those he meets along the way
Are often stationary....sometimes stuck,
With a helpful curse, a hand reaches out,
Feigns retreat, chuckles and spares another
Mucklucker from the landsharks,
Towards sundown, God provides,
A daily dose of thanksgiving squeezes between
Epitaphs, well earned....
No bearing, the sea, nor desired, but the gems
Left behind sparkle forever,
Mental health central,
A
Moveable
Feast
10/4/14
the marked must go quietly in the night
without a word of farewell
through the trembled dust
down the dark road from which they say
no one returns
the gods who made Africa
strike fear upon the living
comfortless
vituperative
rampaging through our lands:
freedom is a hoax
we abandon ourselves
to the crudely dug dungeon
the pit is boiling like a volcano
dark blood seething ceaselessly
so many souls within its recesses
so many mournful eyes
so many broken hearts
we cannot cry, we cannot move
this pit is an endless pursuit of misery
there is no escape, there is nowhere to go
bit by bit our bodies are dying
and our strength disappears
we lose our sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch
hell lies about us in our innocence
we wonder who will be the last, the very last,
to seek this place for what it was:
they'd neither like nor believe
the horrors no God could have allowed
we are sure only that from
our true liberation movement
we have disappeared
we simply do not exist
no comrade-in-arms squeezes
a fake tear for us
noticing we are not there
when did he last see any of us?
he cries out we are disloyal,
have betrayed the cause
and all the while
we are labouring in the dungeons
we dig for him
we dig to be sure
he surely is next on the blacklist
the supporters deny our disappearance
and with the human rights watcher,
no record
nobody, it appears, misses us enough
to report
it is easier to die than to remember
and where do we come from?
where did the liberation struggle take us,
the combat,
the underground resistance?
prison? protest? mere conviction?
it was a time of revolution
there were no fantasies
there was simply the beyond-endurance
and then the fleeing-into-exile
we are the illicit cargo marooned
in dungeons guarded by scare-crows
The truth
It will destroy you
An August day
While you sweep up
rose petals
On our Sun drenched
porch
You look at me from
under heavy lashes
And say it's ok
You don't wish to be
without me
It's ok your always
want me
Your never stop
I'll bask in this
glory
Thanking God for you
loving me
As tears prick the
back of my eyes
The hand around my
heart squeezes a
little tighter
Until I am
breathless with it
In time
There is a
difference to us
Making love is no
longer rushed
After
I look at you,
looking down at me
But neither of us
say it's pointless
Your days a little
darker
A little longer
Things a little more
useless
The hand around my
heart squeezes a
little tighter
As the truth picks
away at your dreams
one by one
At Christmas we
pretend we are still
happy
Completely in love
While in the garden
with your sister
The truth pours out
of me in great sobs
She says it's ok
your get through
this
We both know she's
lying
Inside she's crying
I had no right in
making you love me
So the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart
Somewhere along the
way
Anger rises
The tension
surprises us
You begin to resent
me
Hate me for letting
you love me
And I am sorry
I stayed a little
too long
Cared a little too
much
I needed this
whatever it was
So the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart
Invisibly I collect
my possessions
Storing them
They lay in wait
Courage appears
At three in the
morning on a Tuesday
Quietly I get my
things
Wait by the window
for a taxi
As the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart
The knowledge
erupted
Watching you hold
your new Godson
Looking at me
longingly
Knowing I can never
give you this
Tears glazing your
eyes
Looking so proud
It's wrong for me to
keep you
With me this is all
your ever be
A childless man
In your hallway
You help with my
bags saying nothing
I will never be
wife, bnever be a
mother
Without you I'll
never be anything
As the cab pulls
away
You say your always
love me
I say I know
But I have to let
you go
I'm giving you a
chance of what I
can't give you
The most precious
thing
A family
So the hand
completely squeezes
my heart