Best Stages Poems
You're in the last stages
of lost wages,
of empty pages,
of spent rages,
You're in the termination
of inspiration
of imitation,
of expiration,
You're in the culmination
of emulation,
of exploitation,
of domination
of me.
Stage 1
Trick-or- treating long after dark, we knocked on an old lady’s door.
Her annoyed look clearly did not match our Halloween glee.
But that did not dissuade us from dashing to the next lighted porch.
Stage 2
I took my two small kids out in cute costumes Halloween night.
Once Trick- or- Treating was finished and my children were tucked in bed,
I busied myself sifting through their bags for the Snickers bars!
Stage 3:
Sometimes before 5, the Trick- or- Treaters appear at our door,
announced constantly by our barking dog. Although they may look cute,
after 9, I become the old bothered lady from my childhood.
Oct. 25, 2016 For the Halloween Contest of Eve Roper
First you learn to crawl around
Then give a step a chance
Bit by bit you learn to talk
And not to wet your pants
When it’s time to go to school
Get on the bus and go
It’s scary to be on your own
With kids that you don’t know
Then you enter puberty
And share that first time kiss
A few bouts of puppy love
Then a love you can’t resist
Wedding bells, a honeymoon
A family would be swell
Diapers, bibs, a rocking chair
Night time stories you will tell
Start planning for retirement
You’ve got grandkids all around
Wrinkles come from nowhere
You know you’re slowing down
Now you reached the golden years
It’s time to just have fun
Take a nap, do what you want
Your race on earth is done
1. INCIPIENT
the smell of burning body helps me sleep at night
i'd rather ignite this spark in my stomach than shove bread down my throat
singe this hollow home
choke these lungs with bone dry soil so nothing can grow
and maybe they brainwashed me
or i did it to myself
but all of my dreams lead to being skin and bones
the humming of crackling wood whispers
"starve"
i listen
the humming of crackling body whispers
"this is all your fault"
2. GROWTH
this skin is getting too hot to live in
i, the embodiment of a fire breathing dragon
i hunch over
choke on second hand smoke
and misconceptions
there are so many ways to feed into desperate
too many ways to swallow yourself whole
i let this esophagus sizzle and cry
i lie arms spread naked on the bathroom floor catching my breath
a slab of meat thrown onto a cackling grill
fatty and full of blood
sized up and bitten into
violated by my own opinions of beautiful
where bitter
where acidic
where a dysmorphic enemy does not linger
nibbling at my tonsils
3. FULLY DEVELOPED
i am engulfed in flames
these charred hands stain my body with words like
"bony"
like "thin"
like "sick"
this flesh can't escape the freezing creeping up on my being
the trembling of limbs
the chattering of teeth
is a physical trophy
"congratulations!" you are one flicker away from broken
winter almost melts me
christmas and thanksgiving
piles of food fresh like flesh mocking me
rotting in front of me
a mirror image of my organs and intestines
abandoned and squeezed
some sort of puzzle
pieces twisting and breaking
i sit quietly
they ask "aren't you hungry?"
i don't tell them that it is too late for this fire to be put out
or how often i dream of drowning
4. DECAY
a guilty arsonist
i toss my lights and my matches
sweep up the ashes
what is left of my home
and i start building
i blow out the candles
shove my hands into the wreckage and chew it up
i won't spit it out this time
i fill myself up
i introduce myself to my reflection
say,
"hello. i am healthy"
say,
"i've missed you"
a phoenix flies over a body she burned
a city she burned
a world that she burned
says
"go. go find out what happiness tastes like"
I
A spark is shot
Deftly, from between two fingers.
It sits, wavering on its bed
Like a lone star
Against the black,
Cold coals.
Chuckling, a candle flame shows
Its little golden head.
Sleepily, it reaches for its mother
And she, flickering, crackles her tongue
As the scorching hand upon her breast grows
And spreads.
Curious and hungry,
flamma explorat.
II
A fire is mature, suddenly
Superior. Its arms extend,
It works, briskly it burns.
Like a tiger
It inhabits its cage.
Laughing, a blaze rises
To greet a brittle friend.
For another
And another
Blaze yearns.
Alas! Any tears would hiss
If the glowing cheeks reminisced a kiss.
It is Love The Fuel on which its life depends.
Selfish and beautiful,
flamma vivat!
III
The embers sift, tenderly
Nursing the staggering
Foolish old flame
Who must be coaxed to nibble and feed.
No light livens the hearth, haunted now,
Merely shadows.
In faded fame, amidst dusty fortune
The patient lies.
And it ponders as all its dazzle dies
Who taught me to hate?
Was it lack of love or lack of life
That finally dampened my fanciful play?
Slowly,
Painfully,
The gargoyle face is smothered in ash,
The soft powder of its parents fate.
And death waits
Eerily
Still
Until another is born in the grate.
Tired and lonely,
flamma extinguet.
It cowers in the corner,
newly born.
I turn my spite-soaked back,
riddled with resentment
and pull the thin veil
to sink beneath its cover.
I will not watch it crawl,
but it breathes,
a shadow
at the edge of my own
threatening to merge.
It waits, as I do
for nothing
while I ignore its cries
and mine.
And I turn to stone
silently refusing
the darkness at my feet.
~
It screams
a piercing shrill
that grips my core.
It pokes and presses
every bruise,
clawing at my skin
with high-pitched scratches.
Enraged, I seize it.
A thunderous wrath
echoes within,
bubbling from the chambers
of my worn-out heart.
Relentless waves
crash with intent
to swallow
as a storm
unleashes its fury.
~
Fear consumes,
as the burning truth
nears the brink.
Boiling rage simmers
to a helpless desperation.
I plead for a reprieve,
a momentary pause
in overwhelming anguish.
My offers fly free;
promises,
compromises…
myself.
Left waiting,
tossing pennies
into an overflowing well,
only to watch
my wishes spill.
~
Rain cascades
from hollow black eyes,
as its touch
pierces my chest.
And,
the dam
breaks…
flooding the space
with the pent-up poison
that's been swelling within.
I swap my veil
for a heavy blanket
of fog
as hope is smothered.
Color dulls to gray,
and I surrender
to the haze.
~
It holds me
in its growing arms,
and strokes my dampened hair,
whispering comfort
as if to apologize
for its very existence.
It is mine,
born of a final breath
to dwell in my shadow,
and thrive inside a void.
I tend to it
as it tends to me,
embracing what remains,
just a fragment
of that final breath
to hold inside my lungs.
And I succumb
to its rise
from the isolated corner
as it walks beside me,
fully grown.
Your life through stages
By Michelle Morris
13/08/2020
In the morning of your life,
You'll feel like you have
All the time in the world;
You'll be enthusiastic and
Fearless, and without any
Limits unfurled...
Simultaneously, you'll be
Surrounded by people who
Want to mould you,
Shape you into boxes
That fit their world view...
Don't allow anyone to break
Your stride, limit you or
Harm your pride;
You need to take pause and
Focus on the type of person
You want to be -
Hopefully good and kind and
Generous will be your legacy...
In the noontide of your life,
You'll be looking back at how
Far you've come
And looking forward to see
If there's still time for
Dreams to run...
Don't be thwarted by the
Limitations of time or age -
You're never to old to learn anew
Or with life to re-engage...
No matter your circumstances,
You can always start again;
It just takes dedication and
Willpower that never ends...
Don't be put off by
Whatever challenges you face;
The race is not yet done
And the demons you've got to face
Won't be the best of you...
If you focus on
Always choosing good,
Because good always wins
And allows a conscience
Clear of sin...
In the evening of your life,
You'll be looking back upon
Your path, and hopefully wonder
If you changed many hearts...
To improve the planet
And life thereon
Would be the best of lives lived
And worthy of a song...
© Michelle Morris, 2020
You've reached the top, so
there's nowhere left to climb.
Enjoy the mountain view now
for there's a shortage of time.
With every step you take,
tread gently and stroll long
for bagpipes are awaiting
another moment's song.
Come down with graceful ease,
like an eagle, gliding low.
When you reach the sower's ground
there are mysteries below.
12-9-2020
The mumbles and giggles of a baby,
wobbly, shaky I soon stand maybe.
I frolic and prance with energy strong,
for I am youth and can do no wrong.
Life you are full of such sweet gladness,
yet, my adulthood is often madness.
Now, I stand alone on this life's stage,
frail, broken but happy in my old age.
__________________________________
December 27, 2019
Poetry/Couplet/Quaternion/Stages of My Life
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1211-885-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Quaternion is a poetry style where the theme is divided into four,
the word being derived from the Latin word quaternion, meaning
four by four. The poem may be written in any poetic form.
Written for FFI Blog Series 48 - Quaternion
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1
I began life as a gorilla – cumbersome and chunky.
I clunked my way into situations, abrasive and loud.
I also misrepresented and misspoke.
Rapidly became misunderstood and ostracized.
Life was not working...
So I transmogrified myself into a butterfly.
Flitting from place to place, not staying long enough for enemies.
Keeping myself safely out harm’s way
Keeping my emotions inside where they began exploding
So I blew up and had to reinvent myself....
Now I am a lively, happy mountain goat.
I butt people who annoy me.
Defriending them right and left on social media.
A warrior woman mountain goat.
Living my truth, my way.
Pleased to meet you!
Life is a playground, the fun never ends.
Not a care in the world, just run around with your friends.
Doodling on the walls
Playing house with your dolls.
Chasing boys around with cooties
But only those you think are cuties.
A scraped knee covered with a Hello Kitty band aid.
“There’s no monster under your bed, don’t be afraid”
Said Daddy, after a bedtime story.
Suddenly you realize- Dad’s jokes are getting too corny.
Life is an avalanche, no one understands.
Why does nobody get your obsession with this boy band?
Mom is too naggy
Your classmate is too braggy.
Chasing deadlines for essays due weeks ago
Procrastinating,contemplating; you’ve hit an all time low
You’re hungry, but you’re fat.
Each week there’s a new pimple to pick at
“I think he likes you,” whispers your friend.
But you know he only likes you for your backend.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re no longer updated with the latest trends.
Life is an overflowing agenda, it’s nerve racking
Responsibilities and bills just keep stacking.
The baby’s awake at two am again
You blink once, and suddenly he’s ten.
Now you’re Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter bunny all rolled into one
Did you really just make that lame pun?
You realize that you sound just like Mom.
When your son brings home a girl, it’s hard to remain calm.
Your husband finds a gray hair on you
And you can’t help but feel a bit blue.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re sitting at your baby’s wedding pew.
Life is a daydream, you reminisce about the past.
How long did eighty years really last?
Sour moods and achy bones
The children moved out, you are now alone.
Open a photo album, look and see.
“Wow, was that really me?”
The fireplace crackles, the rocking chair creaks
You sit your granddaughter on your lap and pinch her cheeks.
“I had pigtails just like you when I was your age”
Suddenly, you realize- it is now your time to exit the stage.
The pupa ready
To go for transformation
Indeed life is stage
as my pen positions itself
between my fingers and pillows itself on my hand…
…I know not why I write and still I’ve got to take this poem for a ride….
Thoughts spew inside my head – too
fast to articulate. Too deep to defend. Ticking like a badly timed bomb
infused with a faulty timer – I reach for the pen…
words align themselves as I walk Through the clutches of Pre-validation. My mind
is appeased – my will is at ease…until the stumbler opens his mouth:
“Poetry” he whispers and I’m thrown
Into the vapors of Validation wondering, perhaps, maybe? Could it be
that without will I have created that which could be termed
as poetry? The jury is out: the naysayers and the critics;
the conservatives and realists;
friends and foes –
torturing my mind, stroking my ego, making my blood boil,
soothing my heart…
tears I cannot cry…smiles they can not see…
anger spills out; indifference sets in;
I wring my mind and
pack my poem
slowly I embark on the
Wrought past Post-validation.
Baby steps in forming words I love. Twisting the poem in forms I’ve
learnt. Dressing it in different styles, shortening it, elongating it;
Snip, snap, cut, bandage –
Rhythm no rhythm. Basking in formless form.
Counting and discounting syllables
But still it’s not enough.
What’s the use of words if they don’t effect?
Diving into The plunge I reign in the words – the leader of my chariot-
My poem succumbs to my will.
Wielding, exposing, slicing, dicing, building, destroying, encouraging,
condemning
the poem breathes – a life of its own.
And I think to myself Oh please who am I to be the wielder of such potency?
I call it back.
Taking a stroll along the beach, I reminisce of things past;
The things I’ve done; the things I’ve not done;
The rot in the world; the love
that begs to be heard…
The thoughts start swirling in my mind.
….
My steps take me back to the beginning…
as my pen positions itself
between my fingers and pillows itself on my hand…
…I know not why I write and still I’ve got to take this poem for a ride….
For: Boomerrang Contest sponsor: Michael J. Falotico
Sitting by my open window,
watching moth at the porch light,
circling, circling, circling, never
slowing down his useless flight.
I am thinking of the many times
we sat on the old porch swing,
watching perhaps the self-same moth
just doing his aimless thing.
I was content to sit with wonder,
and as aimless as was he.
You were thinking of adventure
that was too extreme for me.
Go my daughter with my blessing.
Live your life and live it well.
I'll be waiting for the details
of the tale you'll have to tell.
There was a time I had my longings
and was eager for the new.
All my dreams were of the future,
but my future now is you.
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
This burden is so very heavy
But I can’t possibly put it down
I must carry it with me always
As a reminder of my love for you
Just below the surface it boils
But I can’t possibly let it out
All my prayers went unheeded
But that was obviously my fault
If only I had been there for you
But I can’t possibly be everywhere
I would have done anything
Now there’s nothing left to give
Life was blue skies and bright flowers
But I can’t possibly be happy again
Now dark nights and fading dreams
Screams of horror and despair
Life truly is a box of chocolates
I can make positive choices that define me
So many sweet delectable bites left
Mine will just half to be dark chocolate