Best Tomorrows Poems
Oh beloved,
I'm like Rumi without Shams.
A shivering summer soul,
secretly stalked by wild white winter wolves.
A chiffon child chiselling chimerical calligraphy,
cursed with invisible ink, silent in sentimental sighs.
I've become the son of solitude,
tired from torture and torment,
descending like surreal sinking sunsets shaded in scarlet,
yearning for a dawn where we can blend like sunrise.
I have no desire to write, but you cut my veins to bleed.
What is pain without pleasure,
or a poet without his poetess?
Oh mistress of the night,
I'll forever wait for you to adorn my garden,
to finally inhale the fragrance of my roses.
I'm the oil lamp in all your blackness,
sometimes I may flicker like a candle,
but I will always reignite to create a spark.
The day you stop reading my musings,
my pen will forever slumber.
Oh daughter of darkness,
let me salvage your light, place it into your eyes.
Guide my quill to engrave upon your shores.
Together we will sail away from Satan's spawn.
I'll shield you from twilight's beasts,
protect you from demons with crimson claws,
emancipate your wings to fly from an illusionary island.
Because,
you love the moon, but it's the stars you gaze at,
hoping their stardust will illuminate your heart,
before they fade into nothingness.
Oh my seclusive sweetheart,
I will strum strings of serenity,
so you release tears of tranquillity.
I may not be the most handsome blossom,
nor the most popular prolific poet,
but I gift you my art and alliteration.
Some may say I'm romantic,
but I am no judge of what is exotic or poetic.
We can't put all our faith in petals and poetry.
I'm no emperor who deserves an enchanting empress,
merely a broken butterfly in your precious palms.
Life is an absent bride,
so I'm not afraid to bleed to death,
in the hope of soothing tomorrows.
Silent One
4 December 2022
Unborn tomorrows..
Disguise unknown sorrows
Leaving hearts full..
Not empty and hollow
Unborn tomorrows..
Always send a rainbow smile
After dark clouds..
Have had their while
Unborn tomorrows..
Leave room for dreams to grow
Even ones forgotten..
So long ago
Unborn tomorrows..
Give all a second chance
To rekindle..
Lost romance
Unborn tomorrows..
Provide opportunity to say thank you
I love you..
And appreciate all you do
Unborn tomorrows..
Give a chance to say
I'm sorry I acted that way..
I don't always mean everything I say
Unborn tomorrows..
Are like life itself
Breathe in and out..
Nothing else
Just assuming the next one will come
Until the last one and then it's done..
So breathe deep and let it go..
If tomorrow doesn't come, you'll never know..
For God is love....
©Donna Jones
* I heard the phrase unborn tomorrow a long long time ago on an old western show when I was a kid..I thought it was beautiful and still do...
I ask you now is this my plight
I cry out to you all through the night
My tears run dry, my heart still stings
My soul seeks solace but no peace it brings
Words expensive hang in the air
They wound so deeply,
The air so thick
On the thorn of a rose
Did my finger prick
A drop of blood from innocence lost
Can't be regained no matter the cost
Is this my lot to live and die
To find no comfort when I cry
To seek with all that is within
And know I must begin again
A brave new world
A hard new truth
A past that I will never elude
The things in life that cost me most are the things that came for free.
And what I thought I was,
Was not what I would be.
And what I thought I was looking for
Was not what I could see.
And every time I got close
I threw it all away.
And the price of that keeps going up
It's more than I can pay.
So I keep trading my tomorrows
To forget my yesterdays.
And every time I get close
I throw it all away.
And I know I'm gonna do it
But don't know what makes me this way.
And every time I get close
I know I've got to pay.
And every time it changes
It always stays the same.
I couldn't wait when I was young
To get away from home
I've spent the rest of my life wishing
That I had never gone.
Chasing my regrets
They're dragging me along.
Willingly unwilling
To forget and just move on.
Driven by the things
That keep me all alone.
Taking comfort in the pain
Knowing every time that I get close
I'll throw it all away.
And I know I'm gonna do it
But don't know what makes me this way.
Like a secret life has kept from me
To dry me with the rain.
Drinking life like it was whiskey
And chasing it with pain.
And the things that cost the most
Are the things I got for free.
And the ones I need the most
Are the ones I throw away.
And I know I'm gonna do it
But don't know what makes me this way.
I just keep trading my tomorrows
To forget my yesterdays.
And there's not enough days ahead
To pay for the days pre-spent.
That prize I've chased in life
I just don't know where it went.
And the things that I've loved most
Are the things that came for free.
And the ones that I need most
Are the ones I throw away.
And I know I'm gonna do it
But don't know what makes me this way
And the love that cost the most
Is the love I'll throw away
And what was given to me free
Had a price I wouldn't pay.
She was the star in his velvet night
The steady beat of love's drums
How distant is that gleaming light
Too far for love, tomorrow never comes
She was the bloom that welcomed spring
When the winter cold succumbs
A fragrant rose with love to bring
Would it be there when summer comes
He found her there within his dreams
With kisses sweet as sugar plums
Lost again in an elusive scheme
Would she be there when dawn comes
Too far a dream for him to reach
Too sad the song of dawn becomes
Melodies with lessons to teach
But the lyrics say, tomorrow never comes.
--
11-16-18
Tomorrow - Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Tomorrow is another day, a fresh start.
You manipulated your way and stole my heart!
I try to focus on self, but I'm seriously failing.
You took my emotional wealth, and now my mind is sailing.
Drifting along, needing an answer as to "why?"
You would rewrite my song, look me in the eye and lie!
Tomorrow is another day, a new beginning.
I kneel and pray for all this sinning.
You dragged me down to the lowest point in my life.
Take off that crown you're no longer my wife.
I will carry on and refuse to look back.
I'd rather be alone, I'm serious as a heart attack!
Hearts don't break they just tend to bend.
I took all I could take now I'm gone with the wind!!!!
03/10
Between yesterday’s memories
And tomorrow’s expectancies—
Lies the today
Yesterdays bring sweet wistfulness
With tomorrow comes hopefulness—
Verity stays
While the hours-days- months-years parade
Quietly moves forward and past fades—
Clocks ticks away
There remains a dream to fit in
Somewhere; somehow; someday begins—
What can one say?
Between past participation
And future’s anticipation—
Mind is at play
There must be a day that transcends
When yesterday-tomorrow blend—
Until – someday
She The Ravenous Queen, That Can Have All My Tomorrows
Ah that creamy chocolate
swirl
of gold-blasted passion,
it fingers roaming and
gifting deep titillating pleasures
with both our lips
that gift honey-breaded
sensational
love
a steaming arena
of delight
your body
its sexy curves
and ravenously
hot
hidden
oasis .....
O' my this soul
seeks none other
than you
my princess
with
that raven-black
smooth hair
luscious lips
ten mile
long
tanned legs
come with me
to our oasis
let us drink of
passion's sensational fruits
whilst
the Heavens
our song plays....
and watch the
fingers of dawn
gently caress
our beating
hearts
as we
seek what our
bodies
so need
you my dearest
my angel
my beautiful
queen.....
shall we forever
see the
rainbows
hear the
melody
and wake
to
dawn's
hot swirling '
breath.....
as we walk along
our white
sand beach
nothing around
but blue
ocean and
birds
we strip down
and upon
the white sand
make feverishly
deep love
just
you and I....
may we
have all
of our tomorrows
be as today
together with both
arms reaching
for that
golden cup of love
and exist in
our
Heaven
upon
our wonderful earth....
tonight dearest
the stars
will shine upon
our two bodies
entwined
upon silky satin sheets
with purest bliss
within
our
two sweet
beating hearts....
Robert J. Lindley, free verse
9-14-2023
Note : This poem is dedicated to the memory of my dear sweet wife that passed away
right at eighteen months ago. I miss her and so deeply and truly love her with my all. RJL
day by day
as far as the I could see
the horizon
the line between hedonism
and brain injury
***
This is no illusion,
Time is never still.
If you were blind before,
What hope can the future bring now?
In this time of loneliness,
There is nothing but segregation.
Nothing more than the existentialist,
What hope can the future bring now?
Now that we stand guarded,
What will the new dawn hold?
If eyes can pierce a beating heart,
What hope can the future bring now?
In this time of bitterness,
Of exceptional cruelty and hate.
Could not the wise ones say,
What hope can the future bring now?
For scholar and learned man alike,
Can spout truths, facts and figures.
But amidst the pomp and spluttering,
What hope can the future bring now?
Rise then and be heard wistful,
No one has our stance and holding.
We are comfort in a sick world,
We are today, tomorrows little dream
Your angry voice tells me
you are tired, tired not just
physically from the drain of
responsibilities, but from feeling
forced to continue to trod the
same burdensome path—
A path that steepens as the
years close in and you feel you
must stretch yourself beyond
the point of knowing how far.
I hear desperation in your
angry voice, and I see that
little boy who stifles his
cries to act like a man in
a world that has no room
for the dreams of a child or
for the dreams of a tired man.
It is easier to let your angry voice
speak to tell me these things.
© 2012 Connie Marcum Wong
"The Ghosts of All Those Lost Tomorrows"
voiceless Munch seen laughing
when all the ghosts of those lost tomorrows
come stampeding into dreams
like a forewarning, carrying the colours
of their ever changing empathy
jokes
seen through
kaleidoscopes
of dead others
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Have you ever stopped yourself
when thinking of your present life and
wishing for a better tomorrow?
Then realized tomorrow is elusive.
Indefinable like an illusion,
as tomorrow is always close
but too far to reach,
yet with patience tomorrow always becomes today.
Tomorrow, the savior of yesterday’s guilty misdeeds
and cradle of our hopes and dreams,
is vindicated by the Holy One who spreads the coldness of warm dirt
over our tomorrows to comfort beleaguered hearts.
All those yesterdays that depleted our strength
with the daily tedium of everyday chores
tolerating the many crosses one must bear
amid the many prayers inculcated with hopeful expectations,
Those dastardly tomorrows that consumed our waking hours,
where are they now?
Mostly forgotten, as children forget old discarded toys,
but we cling to other embedded memories
that sit and fester like malignant sores.
Someday, our tomorrows will be used up
and all pain and queries will dissolve
into the abyss of nothingness,
and we will experience a new narrative
That at that time of final repose, we will rejoice
and kick our heels and sing the old ***** spiritual
free at last, free at last, good God almighty, we're free at last!
(last two lines borrowed from Dr. Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech)
Ah, tomorrow and tomorrows!
A procrastinators’ catchall
future days that he will borrow
freely to do nothing at all;
but presently those days will dawn
calling due his declarations;
promises he’ll not keep thereon:
deliberate fabrications.
His wishy-washy character
lacks effectiveness and purpose;
his favorite word is “later”
which can be defined as fruitless.
Is there any hope for him? No!
as long as there are tomorrows.
Our ashes have settled on the cliff of pride
while the seed of today sprouts your frailty beginning.
We have at last seen the face of our god
which you have not even learned to utter
or never will at all.
Your intelligence gave you power that
failed the comprehension of our yesterfathers.
You built humans in just a sprinkle of semen
on to the skin of alligators and ants
on to the stem of a bee and the sting of a plant.
And you called them your sons
And you called them your kind.
The burrowed earths have no more riches
and they are left unpalatable to worms,
no more worms even
for even these decomposers
learn to tire feeding on your greed
no more shades of blue in the putrid waters
to which this bottle was thrown,
to which this letter longed to swim with your same species
that can never be in our family tree
for it has grown dead atop the impotent soil.
How we wished that your sons wished they
were with us in the time when
sparrows roared in the Kamagong tree when
wild boars chirped in the dancing bamboos when
the snow-like smokes breathed in the cone of Mayon when
the bangus and tilapia worshipped the nets of the singing fishermen.
How we wished they wished they knew.
How we wished they wished they saw.
© 04-11-13