Best Thought Poems
when all the words
inside your head
become those words
already said
and places that
you dreamt you saw
are places now
you’ve been before
is it that time
to call a day
on all what was
and walk away
or is it time
to take the view
that you should stay
to start anew
and use the past
to build upon
what’s gone before
before it's gone?
Am I dreaming
or have I dreamt myself awake
I can’t seem to discern
between real and fake
What’s right
What’s wrong
which direction
should I take
Am I reasonably responsible
for the many mistakes I might make
Backward bouncy walking
Crazy ticketed talking
Following the run
in a pretty girls stocking
Unafraid of anything
Willing to do what’s shocking
Sarcastically mocking
Listening to head voices
My brain has lost it’s sane
my body’s rocking
My mind skipping
from Idea to Idea
You weren’t there a second ago go
but now I see you
Wait a second
I can see right through you
Black isn’t white
Yellow is now blue
Bending over
To take a boulder
out of my shoe
They were old yesterday
and now they’re new
But instead of one pair
I’m wearing out two
The room is shaking
Momma’s in the kitchen
Half baked
Pieces of everything
Tender flaked
The tiles under my feet
vibrate to the beat
Hey momma
“Trick or Treat?
Give me something good to eat”
Suddenly I’m covered by a sheet
on a cold stainless table
being processed like meat
sliding on a rail
Door closed
Fire burning
someone turning up the heat
Bell ringing, ringing, ringing
WAKE UP, Wake up Rick
If only I could
That would be a cool trick!
I feel like I’m being beat with a stick
Shake, shake, shake
“wake up Rick its Eight,
you’re going to be late.”
Get out of bed you fool.
It’s time for school.”
Eyes open, “I‘m up, I’m up!”
But wait
You can’t hear me talk
Because I’m an unwound
broken old clock
no longer able to tick or tock
I only have hands
so I can’t even walk.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Things that make me go hmm. The second hand of clock or watch is actually the third hand. ;0)
"only a thought away"
only a thought away
to see you
to hear you
to feel you
still I search
with all memories
never faded
never gone
my eyes see
my mind feels
as I look around
comfort blankets me
shadowed by essence
of you
of me
of us
with this new way
I'll hold the belief
knowing what I have
knowing what we had
you remain close and
only a thought away
SkyWatcher
12-07-23
He knew how to turn up the soil and seed,
Before the sun got hot by summer's glade;
And on his lips recounting roses creed
He gently viewed them as they swayed;
Together in a garden built of tweed
A bloom-vestige of grace, softly arrayed;
And as the gardener drank his amber tea,
he thought of roses and he thought of me.
Lyrics start 0.05 - timed to the music
Pack your bags dear, there’s a Croc near
And he’s creeping, through the night
With his eye on - on our old stead dear
And it appears - we’re within his sight
You know when that Croc smiles - shows his teeth dear
Concrete jungles start to spread
Whips the grass from right under their feet dear
Scams now filling, each word he’s said
What no scruples you ask, well he ain’t got’em you should know
Seeks locations both, far and wide
Look he’s sneaking - sneaking down the alley
Is there no - place - left to hide
Another Archway, off the highway down the road
Golden handshakes, don’t go the mile
Men in black suits they make it all happen dear
Sanguine red soon, turns into bile
With our kids dear – it’s the buzz 'we gotta go'
Family meeting place, just come on down
Try these milk shakes - they're just like the real thing
And these burgers, the best in town
Bet you a fiver - oh that bun is barely fresh
Kids now falling sick - while their doctors frown
Green backs talking – they don’t give a nickel
Have our bags packed
‘Cause the Croc is
Look out Sneaky Croc is
Sneaky Croc’s back
Back in town
EPILOGUE
Oh these outlets they keep spreading far and wide
In a hurry, they just can’t wait
Food so tasty, don’t you wonder ‘bout it all
No time to ponder it’ll make you late
Good old family name – so familiar dear
Look out folks for, deceit and lies
Another archway - around the corner
Now that Croc is stopping by
Look out OLD Croc is back
Footnote:
On our recent visit to Japan I noticed the proliferation of Fast Food outlets. It is such a pity to see a country that was once so fastidious with their traditionally healthy diets and that of their kids, changing their lifestyle and falling prey to corporate fast food giants. Even the kids are now embracing this way of life.
It’s sad to see traditional food outlets also losing their livelihood as the trend takes over.
Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Chris Green on agreeing to spare some of his wonderful talent and collaborating with me to bring you this arrangement.
Thank you so much Chris.
Copyright © Maria Williams & Chris Green | 3 June 2017
I'm afraid
So afraid
Of being arrested
By the thought police
Their rules are many
Think this
Think that
Don't diverge from the normal
Stop playing on the street corner of tomorrow
Let sleeping dogs rest
Do not question
Do not burn on passionate bonfires
I watch as they ready their weapons
They display arresting warrants through clouded glass
Fifty shades of bland
Cuffs dangling from bulging belts
Bound in self rightous blunder
They wait outside my door
Screaming bull horns command me to exit my paper freedom
I am blinded by search lights, forced to use my third eye
Fearful of their uniformed presence
How long will they be held at bay?
I hold their preconceptions hostage
They cannot see beyond their script
Trained in the warfare of ignorance
They say "who are you, to question our authority?"
I answer
"I am the poet
The one who dreams beyond here and now
My words push through yesterday like a plow!
Yet I am gentle like the rain
Equal parts of pleasure and pain
A powerful detergent
I remove ancient stains
With my words I shake the ground
I will not be stopped by another's sound
Arrest me, yet you can't stop what I think
Within my mind I determine what I drink."
The thought police
Turn to another
The writings of our sisters and brothers
They wait, with cuffs in hand
Unable to understand
The few
The many
Who have joined hands
The poets
The thinkers
We take a stand
Inspired by Eileen Ghali's poem "The Hidden Woman"
Catie Lindsay's Heart of the matter contest.
We Had Time, Eternity Or So We Thought
We had time, eternity or so we thought
days of sunshine, picnics in flowering fields.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought
on and on, our raging love forever builds!
We had time, eternity or so we thought.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought.
We had time, eternity or so we thought
you with great beauty that would never fade.
In life's great illusion we both were caught
forgetting we were mortal flesh and bone made!
We had time, eternity or so we thought.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought.
Yes, about that time we both thought secure
those summers, when bliss came with the winds.
We swam in love, its clear waters so pure
treasured times awaiting around the bends!
We had time, eternity or so we thought.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought.
Yes, about that illusion we both held so dear
did we not see and hear its silent cracks?
More breaks in our shield that allowed in world's fear
with tragedy following up our well worn tracks?
We had time, eternity or so we thought.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought.
Yes, about past fantastic times of love's bliss
romance and its magnificent joys we had.
You and I shall hold onto that first sweet kiss
give thanks for blessings, no longer be sad.
We had time, eternity or so we thought.
In life and in love, nothing more ever sought.
9-25-2017
Catching sight of unwanted reflection
through my eyes I observe my murky mind
lifeless, inactive, defying action
just a blank canvas, raw, pure, unrefined,
desire to inject substantial color
inspired pastels to brighten the darkness
eyes opaque though restrict light, much duller
impulses, brain requesting less Starkness,
my poor mind is without shape or structure
until my thoughts turn to the one I love
blissful images, colorful picture
changing this abyss, no more mourning dove,
she changes my thinking without restraints
such beautiful colors my mind she paints.
When tons of doom filled nights fall on your head,
hot embers glow and fires burn unabated,
you recall her last breath and wish you were dead.
In a poem's sad lines you've been castrated.
From the heavens a voice thunders dire threats
about losses and breakfasts consumed without eggs.
Fumbling about, looking to hedge your bets,
you drink your cold coffee, down to burnt dregs.
On waking you find dawn's hard hammer fell
last night's burns are reminders of strife.
You stumble and look up from the pits of Hell,
recounting the reasons why you lost your wife.
Your clock chimes out vulgar curses at you
and your house bids you leave by peals at noon.
You think of the ancient, wicked dreams, too,
as night falls with its wretched lucent moon.
You dream of hungry tigers eating your boots.
Your house is perched atop two adjoining trees.
A hunter fires; but it's not a tiger he shoots.
Your second wife cuts off your legs at the knees.
With life's blood flowing from your severed veins
your heart bemoans that you married once more.
By morning you were free from nightmare's pains
but horrid memories linger behind closed doors.
What vast burdens you bear in fear of sleep
and hollows in your mind fill quickly with dread.
When your clock strikes twelve, I hear you weep,
" Odious anguish! I wish I were dead."
Shadows dance on your walls in candle light.
Dark images of her body pressed close to you,
waltzing in your arms on a moonlit night
but she vanishes when dawn's rays break through.
Which sort of dream scars your mind with more grief?
The ones in which you're butchered; burned by fire,
or when daylight steals her away like a furtive thief?
Will your penance release you from the leeching mire...
the terror you encounter each night as you lie abed?
Foolishly, you once thought love claimed your heart.
Therein lies the angst of what you most dread...
the vexing memories in dreams that tear you apart.
Co-Written with Robert Lindley based on the original
verses he offered in the open challenge on his blog.
Blessed in abundance that manifests in our
stressed daily interaction with our fellow man, and the sincerest
form of our inner wellbeing is the outpour of laughter.
Dormant in the face of adversity, while we empathise with
modern populace at large and try to bring some
modicum of humanity and relief of the pain.
We’d all experience this from time to time and this is
seed of essence in our reality that is forever fraught.
Felled by ulterior motives – punished like Sisyphus by our
fellow peers – as the dulcet tones of compliments, the sweetest
wrung encouragement that soothed our souls like songs
sung at our cradle; the melodies now forgotten. They are
symbols indelibly edged into our subconscious and those
cymbals that tend to want to drown us out so that
we spin in the vortex, but vector us towards the stories to tell.
Be it to explain the tumultuous emotions raging beneath the surface of
our designer exterior – this is by far the saddest
hour and we, eventually, rather opt for the dilatory thought.
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
I can’t believe I thought that there’d be no darkness when it’s dawn,
I’ll be your queen of hearts, even if the cosmos did crack,
‘forever’ exists as an unseen reality, and the sun will always sprinkle saffron crumbles,
upon vivacious petals of violet roses,
painted by poetic dreamers with writers block,
amidst sharpened thorns and thickened thistles.
But why do golden flares burn the selfless skin of silken silhouettes that swirl to his salmon streaks?
Is there no empathy left in cerulean spheres?
I remember the warmth of his solar presence,
and how he whispered sweet tales to the blue breeze;
he said he loves the storm that sits on
the edge of angst,
yet he chose to flee, in the quest of citrine light,
at the sight of roaring rain and raven clouds,
too reluctant to walk beneath skies engulfed in chaos.
I ponder, who am I to blame?
when the truth is, I assumed the splitting songs of this thunder-struck canvas,
would never be a reason for him to erase inked promises.
Perhaps, I should have seen, how the sparkling stars waned in silence,
and the moon veiled its pearl necklace,
tired of the monsoon monsters, mercilessly moving,
above seas so calmly awaiting~
cantaloupe wings of the compassionate sun.
So, today, I’ll follow our honey-glazed dreams,
still left along ivory shores,
adorned with seashell souvenirs,
while reminiscing how, you wove profound pantoums,
from refined refrains of rhythmic romance,
to calm the lawless nature of my inner-psyche. …
when my time comes round
let my last thought be loving
with soft light abound
(Free Verse)
When I am all alone
all I do is to think of
you my Love day and night all long
and on a silvered fluffy clouds
I go waffling along to you
filled with joyful dreams
of you and I my darling
and softened the misty
moon and the dotted stars
from heaven above seem
to stretch out their regal arms and
singing sweet lullabies of love
they sing to me of you
and how much my love I just
adore your face and your
heart of gold
with all my love for you like
eternal shining stars
from heaven just dancing for you
with all my heart thinking of
Just you
And up above a crimson sky
and clear blue sky my true love
for you just soars to your inviting arms
and with a very sweet an passionate kiss
our hearts will be singing
angels sweet lullabies of love songs
as warm waves of only love
for you so sweetly will go just up
and down with you just dancing
forever and ever in a true soulful
passionate kiss my love.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
November,17,2014
Always around
slightly small mostly black
think of my kids
that's what holds me back
cracks in my heart
such a delicate shell
tears fill my eyes
my eyes start to swell
try to be a new me
no drugs no liquor
now my eyes open wide
more reasons to pull the trigger
thought it was real
did you mean what you said
starting to see the truth
make the target my head
holding back so much pain
but still some leaks out
no one to talk to
feel better with cold metal in my mouth
no peace in my soul
it will not rest
another thought comes to mind
aim straight for my chest
even then I cry
thinking of taking a last breath
seriously thinking without me
would the children be best
feeling like a criminal
I've committed no theft
here is a person that's broken
I have nothing left
I'll walk away now
before I do something stupid
stop leaving it around
one day I might use it
no, no.... I can't
gotta remember my babies
this is a silent prayer I'm tormented
God please save me
there is a place of deep repose
where chasing Christmas never goes
along a path of fallen leaves
where autumn’s warm late beauty breathes
- a timeless tranquil silent space
that keeps at bay those rats that race
and frees the mind from mindless talk
so thoughts can wander while hearts walk.