Best Too Late Poems
L i f e
I sense your perplexed pulse
within pirouetting pearls,
steeped in sinister streaks,
while fading sparks
of dulcet stars
swing from threads of darkness
on the verge of vertigo,
living in minutes
caught in the crawling contradiction
of tainted t i m e…
O’ f r a g i l e hummingbird,
I hear the hushed hymns
hovering through the ebony haze,
awaiting unlocked gates
adorned with regal rubies,
reflecting heaven that
sings of the sacred.
For in your lonely serenade,
in bittersweet solitude,
you raise fatigued feathers
to the alluring azure,
to heed the heartbeats
of the halcyon haven,
amidst your spirit
drowning in dreariness,
soaked in sadness,
counting cursed crystals
as blessings from the essence
of this endless enigma~
d r e a m gliding in drowsiness,
drenched in midnight terrors,
flowing between technicolor tercets,
etched in obsidian tears
within the raven prose
of Edgar Allen Poe,
oblivious to the table set,
serving chalices
brimming with
moonbeams and hope,
as you’ve long tasted
toxic embers from hellfires,
in a satanic sphere that knows
not the ingredients of peace,
consumed with hate and prejudice,
perhaps prewritten
from ashes seized
from the Hades inferno,
a spring stolen from the
valleys of dancing daffodils.
So let me waltz
beyond constellations of cruelty.
It’s too late to save the world,
to color the globe in lime green
and blooming blue,
as there is no winning
when the devil sits
on a throne of fickle flowers,
where snakes slither
through the narcissistic eyes
of the emperor~
dressed in deception,
eager to rule the weak and naive
with nothing but the scorching
heat of the serpentine sunsets,
bleeding venomous verses
upon your canvas
that pleads and prays
for compassionate clemency.
I feel the rising
of the merciful moon,
embracing the wolverine warmth,
filling the emptiness between
wicked lines,
k i s s e d by the weeping wind,
as purple phrases across pastel pages,
immortalize the poetic need to
paint the world with l o v e and lilac...
Being Young
What is "young"......do what you want
regardless of what others think .....
Young....."wise", inexperienced and a lot to learn
Not sure or absolutely certain
No duties and no considerations to take,
just think of the day
Free as a bird, spread their wings and fly where you want
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
Spending the day with good friends, sleeping under the stars
Not sure or absolutely certain
Today`s young people are not so simple,
there are liabilities - they have to go to schools
to keep up with modern society
School, work, homework and have time to social gatherings
They are not free as a birds, they can not fly where they want
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
For those who are young at age
Being young, young in body and soul
It`s never too late.....Fly Where You Want.....Fly...
Have a wonderful day
Flower Power
Make Love Not War
Peace & Love
24. June 2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
WHEN ALL THE WORLD IS QUIET
(It’s too late version)
When all the world is quiet
And the night is fully deep,
A mystic moon is watching
All the places underneath.
My thoughts like panthers moving
through the jungle, they do creep.
Among the lingering shadows
lies a naked hairy beast…
When all the world is quiet
Amid the pine trees night is dark,
The Hunter charges east-southeast
As Venus makes her mark.
But its not these welcome visitors
That wretched me from my sleep,
For they have come, the moving lights,
It’s their secrets I can’t keep.
When all the world is quiet
People would not believe
The shower of light, the dusting
Of illuminating cosmic debris;
“Not of this Earth”, I tell you,
“Embrace the night”, they implore.
But they often go to places
I’d rather not explore.
When all the world is quiet
Hairy beast meets Neo-man
They’ve been coming here for millennia,
Our consciousness to expand.
Too many gods, countless laws
And many borders defended,
The message they send is simple,
Life as we know it has ended.
When all the world is quiet
Listen if you can
Peace and love resound over
The noise of clumsy man.
Aspire to the Divine, my child,
Let children lead the way.
The music of the spheres is love,
Oh, let the music play.
If you have to apologize, it's already too late
What you've done is unfixable; don't think you're so great
If you feel mere words can mend a broken heart
Then you've learned nothing, you fool, from its tearing apart
if you've fired a person and want to make amends
Find him a new job; that's the right message to send
If you've screamed at your kid, reduced him to tears
It'll take years to overcome what you've taught him to fear
Whatever you've ruined, be it a life or a love
Can only be mended by Mercy from Above
April 30, 2019
Entry: "APOLOGY" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Pitch black is the night there is no moon in sight
while she's standing there with the sea’s tangy air
silently inhaling, her raven hair cascading
alone by the shore, pensive, like before.
However tonight, you won't be by her side
to lose yourself again in the pools of her eyes
neither will you open any door to her mind
as she valiantly saves what remains of her pride.
You will never know how many times she has read
your words she longed to hear, yet remained unsaid
'til they came too late, for she, too weary with the wait
has now laid your love on the seaside catacomb's bed.
2 September 2015
Kim Patrice Nunez
Trashed #2 Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Opinions never veer,
Nor acting deem you wise.
You're branded now with fear
Behind a thin disguise.
Behavior layered deep,
No fantasy can hide.
The wounded at your feet
Your conscience won't abide.
A fire too great to quench.
Has spread too far within.
Were you to turn an inch,
You'd face what you have been.
Gene Bourne.
09-10-14
one day you'll look for me to make amends
the weight of what you've done too much to bear
one day you'll ask for grace for what offends
You'll search for me but I will not be there
You'll come to me with heart and words exposed
a plea to start afresh and be at peace
You'll come with promise new that you've composed
and hope that guilty heart will find release
One day you'll come to know that you were wrong
and with the thought will come the awful pain
for you have robbed of me my inner song
and brought to me a grief I can't contain
One day, I know that this will come to be
too late will be that time for you and me
Forbidden lipstick;
Detrimental to the soul
Powerful than any sword
A near death foretold;
Changes in lifestyle took place
Thanks to God's amazing grace
Half my soul shadows his reflection
leaving me with silent voices and vacant thoughts
But the other half , the other half lies hidden .Hidden and lost !
Lost in days of sending postcards,in months of sealing letters
lost in years of our laughter ,of warm long distant calls.
Lost in time and moons before ,
when it wasn't the spirit that moved me to bleed
nor my passion of fresh ink upon the rose ,
But it was an unsettled muse,the same muse
that captured my existence ,and obsessed me
to need it desperately all along.
Now this muse who left my world without identity,
who abandoned me , abandoned me when I needed it most
has made a return, an unexpected return with a will to belong.
It came back to me , and how it seduced me with its competent flame
outshining all the other stars ,Carrying me back to once upon a moment
where him and I left off . My muse came back ,
It whispered beyond unforgotten salts , and waves that dried my lips
that crushed my still heart back and forth.
It pleaded for re-union , for remembarance , for compassion ,
It begged to renew our vow , just oncemore.
But , it is too late,too late for empty chapters to be filled or be continued
too late for questions , for answers , for music ,for perfume and songs.
Its too late for wishes to conquer silver dust
when these nights do not dream about him anymore.
.
Inspired by the movie ' Il Postino ' (fiction poem )
Too late I learned the Supermoon had been around.
Another chance I missed to see some magic in the air!
To see it red, I ran fast to my yard and found
A plain full moon that looked down at me in my underwear!
Written 10/1/2015
For Supermoon Eclipse Contest
It's never too late to ask questions.
Or sing songs.
Or write Books.
Or be happy trying new things.
It's never too late to start fresh
Or cry sometimes.
Or laugh.
Or wonder if this is it?
It's never too late to visit a friend.
Or go somewhere you've never been.
Or take on hobbies that interest you.
Or just get out of being blue.
It's never too late to fix a flat
Or wonder when he'll come back.
Or play a tune.
Or listen for my call at noon.
All these things you can do.
Or even try something else new.
It's never too late.
She thought it was nothing and broke it off,
But despite her feelings, he took it rough.
The love that seemed unforeseen to her,
Taunted him each time he dreamed.
Although he did his best to forget,
He hadn’t been able to forget her yet.
Passed his breaking point late one night,
He found a rope and tied it tight.
Not long after he stepped off his bucket,
He was found with a note inside his pocket.
“I will love her until the day I die,”
Were his last words and final goodbye.
With that, she realized far too late
That leaving him was her worst mistake.
Struck with grief, she grabbed two bottles.
Orange first, emptied it to the bottom.
She washed ‘em down with the bottle of rum,
His picture in her hand as she went numb.
A personality fertilized by favour to be heaven’s pet
of her creation, on tenderness, maturity and beauty flirt
flexible and elastic but no one’s puppet
a mountaintop of womanhood to make existence wet
her smiles of perfection, sweeping nature off a heavy carpet
eyes of fantasies, drawing all butterflies and bees in a jet
with skin moisturized by virtuous and vitalized oils
to put love and lust to a heated bet
a million hearts looking up her warm welcome to get
to her acceptance, a multitude of minds are ready and set
yet, clean and white is her huge public pamphlet
the reflection of the galaxies are entrapped in her net
to enjoy the refreshments of time, dine with life and eat omelet
as her future stands to no surrender of bullets or dirt
she’s a passerby to my heart but a lasting cutie my mind has met.
Dedicated to Dr. Uche (A colleague of mine)
You said you were gonna live
But all you did was sleep
You said you wanted to be heard
But you never made a peep
You said you weren’t afraid to cry
But you never let yourself weep
You said you were gonna see the other side
But you were never willing to leap
You said you’d do it all tomorrow
But now your six feet deep
Autumn is a thief! She stole my gown of gold
She let it fall gently onto the ground out of my reach!
Naked …I'm totally naked, denuded of my fabulous fallen frock
Now I'm at the mercy of the wild wicked winter winds
I’ll shiver until spring brings me a new dress of vibrant green
Not posted in time for contest
11~13~16