Best Til Now Poems
FAITH IS A POWERFUL THING
Faceless fears. Trials. they seize and drain whence one let them sink . . .
Across our path are stormy hills and mountains that blocks.
Interest should kindle one to stand as one must avoid being buried alive
to sharp nails. Always wanting to escape, an angel's arm
herald as a saviour, possibly to render an ounce of relief. . .
Inked and embedded in my life are lots of struggles.
Some moments then, I almost gone to losing my battle and sanity
as even the persons I am holding onto seems to be blind and deaf.
Persecuted without even some questions on hows and whys.
Only I heard are nightmare words that seems even 'til now
when they fly by to my remembrance, tears do flood
eating my thoughts and freezing every muscle fiber, I have.
Reasons I recall, some I understand but some I don't.
Fueling me to search for something I need to hold onto.
Unheard and Unseen but I so believe in one God above all
Locking my thoughts as my life's key to His breathing words
Trusting Him with my mind, my heart, my soul and my strength. I,
Huntress not anymore of finding answers but rather
in again redeeming myself to survive and handing all to Him.
Nothing compares to His starlit immediate response to my prayers
guaranteeing me firstfruit hope and the best blessings!
_________________________
©
02:21 pm. January 09, 2015
So you return on silver wheels,
and the wheels are faster
than I remember them.
What memories you bring,
what joy,
what heartache, Brenda.
I had forgotten you 'til now,
but silver wheels still squeal
at the far side of my brain.
------------------------------------------------
"And thee returning on thy silver wheels" -
from "Tithonus", by Alfred Tennyson.
6/8/2016
Contest - Your own favorite poem
Sponsor - Carol Eastman
1st place win
Whispered promise...Ill keep it with me
Always devoted, you control my emotions
It stays this way, even as you left
left no breath passing sweet lips
I called those lips mine, even for this short time
Sobs push past false composure
breaking down now....she's gone now
Frailty in life I'd never realized
I couldn't fathom pain til now...suffocating sorrow
crushed under the weight of loss
In faintest silence I hear your golden laughter
as though you sent it in the wind
I feel the warmth that was our friendship
hairs raise as I sense your presence here
Your fragrance wafts through my mind
when passing lilac fields
The strangest is that of childrens eyes
When they smile sincere,
it reminds me of your shine
Death may seperate our paths...
This lifetime wasn't to be ours
Wait for me...I'll find you someday
This my whispered promise made
Love slave
Vs 1
I know now I'm her prisoner...
Don't want- or need- a deliverer...
I don't care people say- that I should make my escape
There's a strange allure- being shackled.... to the pain
Bridge 1
She's the only love-only love-only love...I've known
She's held me bound-held me bound-held me bound... til now
Chorus
Every move of mine- depends on gravity,
her moon controls my tides...
I rave like a lunatic when she's gone,
I break all the hands of time
As night slays the day....
I'M HER....LOVE SLAVE....
YEAH YEAH, I'M HER... LOVE SLAVE
Bridge 2
It may be cold and dank in this prison...
When she comes 'round light breaks in her prism
Bridge 1
She's the only love-only love-only love...I've known
She's held me bound-held me bound-held me bound... til now
Bridge 3
Ooh, Ooh, she makes me come...alive
Ooh, Ooh, she gives hope...that we'll survive
Bridge 1
She's the only love-only love-only love...I've known
She's held me bound-held me bound-held me bound... til now
Chorus
Every move of mine- depends on gravity,
her moon controls my tides
I rave like a lunatic when she's gone,
I break all the hands of time...
As night slays the day....
I'M HER....LOVE SLAVE....
YEAH YEAH, I'M HER... LOVE SLAVE
As night slays the day....
I'M HER....LOVE SLAVE....
YEAH - YEAH, I'M HER... LOVE SLAVE
repeat and fade
July 05,2019
John Derek Hamilton
In a weightless state of tranquility,
paraphrasing relentless thoughts of motion
in my head into words, which 'til now
have laid dormant in unsung verse, waiting
for you to shine brightly upon them.
Freshly painted impressions mark
the beginning of halcyon days, where gulls
hover just above waves that barely
kiss the shoreline, burying tiny toes
beneath the coolness of wet beached sand.
To what shall we compare thee or can
your effulgent beauty be measured
by metered stanzas of verse taking form
on rice paper and egg shells so that the yolk
slips out draining lucent into the earth's core.
Your wisdom surveys the high seas,
coursing through cavernous veins that harbor
quietly in safety channels, as zephyrs
challenge moist underbrush among youthful
lips, blowing innocent kisses in playful semblance.
Oscines sway in sync beneath heaven's domain,
bathing in rays of sweet luminosity,
as sun-drenched fossils rise, reborn,
reclaiming their gaiety to shine unobstructed,
teething along crevasses of incandescence.
Embrace these Sun days, reflecting
on fireside chats and old storybooks,
reciting euphonious tales that burn mellow,
rising to greet the eyes of omnipotence
with chants of celestial song and dance.
And to this place we call rapture,
let wings of sober doctrine reveal
where grace resides within Sol's castle,
waiting for the children to come forth
with clasped hands in joyful unison.
Such days will greet warmth openly,
without hesitation, so the orbiting
star becomes ever more pliant,
allowing whatever name you choose
to objectify it, to stand always...
Bright, within itself.
Many mistakes 'til now from then,
Many roads that might've been,
But I hope it's said I hedged my bets,
With a bountiful heart & no regrets.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Tweetable Poetry Contest", Scott Thirtyseven, Sponsor.
HIS BLUE PALETTE
~anacreonti verse~
Lonely moon
shed yellow light
in month of June
falling, falling
are the tears
carrying sad tunes.
Palette of blue
is the pigment
spilled to his ink
eversince the day
red, colored their den
at the lush grass
is his wife, sprawled
gasping, gasping
for some breaths
a deep hole seen
under her chin.
Her lips bit open
as if to shout,
eyes mirroring fear
was it too late?
They got her first..
There are questions
bugging, lurking
into his mind...
Answers he longs.
justice he craves
two years gone
but 'til now
It is unknown,
no one knows ...
_______________________________
9:33 pm, January 07, 2015
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
--------
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
---
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
…
..
.
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
...
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
KNOWING
...
..
.
Form:
I waited a long time
Many times after you said goodbye
When was your last goodbye?
When you said it out of time
I stayed a long time
Too many times after you disappeared
You left me alone in no time
Even when you said everything are all cleared
I believed in you all the time
In all things you showed me
I believed in your precious time
In many times you swayed me
I will believe you for all time
Because I love you the way you are
I will love you for all time
Because you are a promise that you are
I never asked you to promise me
To be with me all my life
But you reneged your word to me
Leaving me all my life
Now you are coming back
Making me believe you are still the same
How can I love you back
Make myself believe you are not in shame?
Many years passed and wasted
You have forgotten me
Through the years I waited
You have forsaken me
Tell me now
Are you a real promise I must keep?
I kept you from then 'til now
Are you the real one I loved deep?
Stacks of Aloneness
by Odin Roark
He wandered here among the longings
And the forgotten,
Not many remaining properly covered,
Their dust jackets of protection
Long gone.
Worn and torn,
The many leaned fatigued in their shoulder to shoulder exile,
With an occasional entombment in plastic wrap
Sweltering in the heat of its many paged passion.
He saw there was something for every kind of aloneness,
Requiring only to be read,
Not bought and placed on another shelf,
But made companion,
A redemptive power for continuing,
often singular journey of aloneness.
A sudden draft from the entrance door
Fluttered the pages of an ancient pyramid travel guide,
The open page 86 sent miniscule sand afloat,
Including its stowaway squashed flea,
Having once bitten the privates of the book’s looting bandit,
Now reduced to but another powdery remnant of history
He gazed upon the shaft of light spotlighting the settling dust.
Such never-ending stacks of tomes, he thought.
A mix of direct and implied philosophy of time,
Some read and pondered,
Others once he knew were but color-matched bindings for
A decorator’s intellectual pandering to
A 5th Avenue looky-loo,
Someone wanting the perfect life,
A delusion her inheritance
Could ever accommodate.
And then…
There was this one opus, ‘til now he knew not of.
Here, the fortune of lovers lying side by side
Beneath the weight of print and paper,
Shared a vial of death, now empty.
A desperate love wanting only to be read,
To be understood as prohibited emotion
Reduced to a finite repose in the darkness of closure,
Like the unopened book now about to have its long awaited embrace.
From his hand he placed the worn book down for ring up.
The clerk opened the cover to reveal its eye-pencil message:
“To my love. May you live long enough to finish this.”
Smiling to the obviously homeless man,
the clerk said, “Just a buck, including tax. Gotta love a bargain, eh?”
“Yes,” he said. “They say the bard knew aloneness needn’t be lonely.
Think he was right?”
She shrugged.
He handed her four quarters.
We called it Decoration Day
When I was just a kid
And up ‘til now, I never knew
Exactly why we did.
I always thought that it referred
To stripes that soldiers earned
Or stars and bars for officers,
But that’s not what I learned.
I googled it to double-check
And found out I was wrong.
The “decorations” were for graves
And have been all along.
For each serviceman who fought
And lost his life in sacrifice,
Just a marker on his resting place
Would simply not suffice.
So as tribute and remembrance,
With a flag or a bouquet,
We should beautify a soldier’s grave
On Decoration Day.
No matter what you call it,
When our flag is flown half-mast,
Take a moment for reflection
On our soldiers who have passed.
taking a class on
being assertive with love
I've been so confused
mixed up passive with
whimpy and aggressive with
assertive 'til now
no wonder the life-
less devestation I've left
in my dreadful wake
passive/aggressive
is my middle name for sure
been without a clue
childhood needs unmet
caused me to rush about to
make up for lost time
blind reality
in a huge fog of smoke
lost lil girl searching
for a better way
without losing all I thought
that I'd been learning
To alliterate
or not
it all began
then
to rhyme
perchance
in time
to find
a cinquain
vignette
peut-etre
cinqku
or crystalline
monoku
broken
of course
in two
half-cinquain
(lanterne)
to you
Ekphrasis
new
betwixt
a perfect
six
plus
crosswise
spaces
into
the mix
'til
my cartoon
art
plays its
unique
part
upon
my stage
with
footle wit
'til now
free verse
at ease
I
knit
The other day I wore your shoes in the rain
They fit so well but still brought pain
Someone asked, “Why wear them then?”
I answered, “They bring me close to my son again.”
I wore your shirt the very same day
It was a Volcom shirt in a shade of grey
A touch of your cologne and it smelled like you
It gave my heart something to cling to
Remember the thirty cents you left for me
It’s in my pocket to set me free
That quarter and nickel you last held
Binds our souls like the strongest weld
Your baseball hat with the sweat-stained brow
I never really appreciated it til now
It’s too small to fit on my head
So I wear it proudly in my heart instead
Yesterday I finally turned off your phone
I cried, son, it made me feel so alone
Today I’m using it with my number instead
It ties us together like the strongest thread
Your music is the best gift of all
For in it I can hear your heavenly call
An un-silenced voice always there to hear
A love that draws me ever near
With all these gifts I hope to move on
Like the sun rising upon a new day’s dawn
I will think of you with every step I take
And in your shoes lessen my grieving ache
One day
Social Worker came
Said, received a call about me
Reported someone harassing me
Answered, worry not, “I’m fine”
[Eternal] God’s taking care of me.
Couple of days
Police detective came, Katie
Interviewed me
Took a copy of Cris picture
Even his son’s picture
Very worried
Brought 2 Social Workers
I took a test, told them the truth
She said, “Oh…He got scammed”
Told them not to worry,” I’m fine”
Said depending with test result
They’ll contact me
Never heard from them ‘til now
Told them “Father Christ got my back”