Best Truth. Poems
I used to be naive, I used to trust
but then that trust just crumbled into dust
the world at large is so unkind, it's true
there is the world at large, and then there's you
You are the one on whom I rest my soul
my naked thoughts reveal without control
You are the one to banish every doubt
to make me see what trust is all about
You are the one I tell each secret fear
the one whose fragrant promise lingers near.
You are the one who knows my hidden ways
Who fills with love the moments and the days
You are my fortress sure, my anchored dream
I lie still in your arms in flowing stream
You are the one who loves without degree
the one whose smile erases history
You are the lover's hope avowed in pledge
A sure security when life's on edge
You are my truth, my strength, my everything
Because of you, my heart and soul can sing
Eileen Manassian
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
I will not dim my light so you can shine
I will not still my voice so you can scream
I will not quench my blaze so you can burn
I will not hush my thoughts so you can dream
I will not stifle truth so you can preach
I will not slink away so you can claim
I will not be demure so you can boast
I will not bend my head so you can blame
I will not hide my thirst so you can drink
I will not stave my wants so you can eat
I will not follow, just to let you lead
I will not stand so you can take my seat
Equality is what I’m striving for
The days must end when men demand to rule
My voice will not be silenced; all will hear:
A woman is a blessing, not a tool
She is the beauty of bejeweled night
She is the wonder of the dawning day
Her wisdom she can temper with her might
She is the one to show Compassion's way
You do her wrong when you suppress her song
When callus hearted-mind sees but her form
Her virtue is her gentle loving soul
Tranquility is she when not the storm
I will not be untrue to gendered grace
to fit the manly notions of your mind
I’ll speak and love and laugh, and yes, I’ll thrive!
With pride I’ll see you bow to womankind
Eileen Manassian
Betrayal devastates your trusting heart,
severing the bonds of love from the start.
And depression slowly entraps your soul,
as disparaging lies exact their toll.
Chameleon clouds change to match your mood,
releasing teardrops, sad emotions brewed.
And at the crossroads of sane and insane,
your heart breaks, under the weight of your pain.
A fickle Sun no longer shares its light,
sulking in the shadows, gathered by Night.
And feigning feelings, you struggle to cope,
for a broken heart cannot harbor Hope.
At the end of the tunnel, there's no light,
everything appears dark: obscured by fright:
And the specter of fear festers in dreams;
fueling night terrors and silent screams.
The promise of tomorrow made to youth
was written on yesterday's fragile truth.
And like a vino, decanted in haste,
love's a premature wine with a sour taste.
I took a walk with God today,
His pace far more casual than
mine. His voice a bit softer,
calmer. His visions, far more
loftier, but not views to impress
me...more like, to bless me. Not
stepping to me out-stride – more like,
to lovingly guide. His tone to instill in me
self confidence, and not His awesome
dominance. I took a walk with
God today...met Christ along
the way – and together we made a turn
toward Home....
I race for summer's setting sun
as crimson bleed the alder leaves
and still I run. And still I run.
My rival, time, is yet undone.
Past pyramids of flaxen sheaves
I race for summer's setting sun
across the low unbroken run.
Each cow out in the pasture grieves
and still I run. And still I run.
In late September’s crisp blazon
my heart to fragile hope now cleaves.
I race for summer's setting sun.
With slaughter of the calves begun
I fled beneath the killing eaves
and still I run. And still I run.
Our time on earth is under gun.
My burning chest now breathless heaves.
I race for summer's setting sun
and still I run. And still I run.
10/24/17
I was taught the true meaning of kindness
From the very best
That kindness comes in all shapes and forms
Has substance pure and honest
Kindness is a blessing
Both to those who give and those who receive
It comes straight from an open heart
Without conditions or deceit
there's too much sorrow...
don't you know
we are all going to die
a starting point always beckons a finish
sooner or later
no matter how
peaceful or painful
that final moment may be
you see...
it will come
for you
for me
There's too much sorrow
war
betrayal
so much I have seen
sickness sapping away
the mother-daughter moments
meant for me...
She struggled bravely
to set my fears free
But MS wouldn't let her be
My Mama left me
There is too much sorrow
the pain of being unloved
of trying to fit in
of trying to play the game
of success and fame
it all comes at a cost
so much is lost...
sacrificial moments
meant for family
There is too much sorrow
refugee misery
nowhere to be
no home
no destiny
just abject poverty
hearts left hungry
for a love
that the world
will not let them see
There is too much sorrow
tonight my heart is heavy
I'm tired of goodbyes
I'm tired of trying to fit in
I'm tired of pretense
I'm tired of...me
There is too much sorrow
Eyes are blurring
I can't see
the last lines I'm meant to write
Too tired to fight
Survival more than it's pumped up to be
Sleep....obliviousness of a dream
sweet it seems to me
you see...
There is too much pain
So write...
write for me
of happy
of make believe
of heaven
and eternity
of no pain
or misery
of no abuse
or fatality
of no tears
or cruelty
no more death
for you
no more death
for me
can't you see?
Write of happy...
Please, there is too much sadness here
for me....
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The brave are more than ones who battle on
in fields of warfare, showing valor true
The brave are more than those that wars have won
There is a truth that must enlighten you:
the ones who fight the battles in their minds
who daily strive to keep their fears at bay
the ones who chose to draw away the blinds
and force themselves to face another day
the ones who have the courage to keep sane
are ones who need the medals to reveal
that they are striving hard to deal with pain
though they are taught their battles to conceal
The brave are those who struggle to survive
They are the ones who fight to stay alive!
Eileen Manassian
To be loved
is to be a wildflower
blooming in springtime.
How wondrous to be much desired
by all the honeybees in the meadow.
There's no greater wealth on all of earth.
That feeling,
that inexplicable feeling
is like being all wrapped up
in warm satin sheets.
Oh, what a thrill it is
to be loved, unconditionally.
It's like being sung to all at once
by the robins of the universe;
words can't possibly describe it.
Is it crazy to imagine
it feels like a walk across
heaven's pearly gates?
Is it but the loveliest of dreams
one would rather die
than awake from?
Oh, I bet it is.
I know this much is true,
it's heavenly to be loved
by you.
Poem of The Day on 03/09/2021
(PoetrySoup Format)
Perfect,
always aligned alphabetically
(even the space between you and me)
is proper
and positioned,
Precisely
Clearly,
clothing is optional
(as continents collide)
It is certain
that,
our connection
is defined as definite
and,
meant to be
_____________
* A simple Scribble *
Souls sweetly Serenade . . .
an attraction always aligned
If truth had a color,
when twilight bleeds
burgundy rivers,
you’ll find these garnet
eyes pleading
to be heard through
poetic sunsets.
For I’ve been swirling
and twirling
through nomadic illusions,
like a goddess of
thunder with a tiger spirit,
never letting go of
the history of hurt,
left by the unkind mind
of inhumane humankind-
which throbs deeper
than the sharpest thorns
in peacock feathers,
that I’ve danced to -
in flawless frequencies
amongst abstracts
of an architect.
If truth had a tune,
It would be too ferocious
to be unraveled,
the kind of fire that
dares to burn,
the hellish tombs of terror,
constantly pushing
every contrasting dream
to be feasted upon
satan’s last supper,
painting every salvage sunrise,
with strokes of petrichor scent
dipped in astral rain-dreams.
As I’ve been the
queen of the night,
longing to soar
across the horizon
where unconfined
eagles and golden dragonflies,
shall tranquilize
this publicized heart caged
as a motionless mannequin
in a glass mansion.
If truth was covered in furry skin,
to glaze skeletons veiled
beneath crooning clouds,
it would be the beginning
of an unstoppable ending,
of an immeasurable
brokenness resting as
irreversible numbness.
As I’ve seen storms
brewing bruises
through seas of sorrow,
amidst illusory lakes
of rose quartz,
streaming down
emerald hills,
hiding the grotesque
kingdom of fragmented gates.
But what if truth
never was a matter,
as it’s all but mere myth
floating along golden ripples
in a pool of sentimental stars.
What if truth was
once a maiden in distress?
What if truth was
once a shadow in search of light?
What if truth was a fool
hoping to be dressed
in dancing dandelions?
what if truth is what
has got this onyx heart on fire?
Perhaps, truth lays in
the arms of a clock,
waiting for it’s turn
to make time stop,
when lovers destined to meet,
rebuild chess of life in ruins,
as footsteps on
glistening glaciers
reveal the secrets
left by snow angels
leading us back to
an unbreakable moon affair.
I was walking with two friends of mine,
when we saw a woman
who was tall, beautiful and black
They spoke lewd to her,
so she didn't speak back
In their rejected anger,
they cursed her in a cruel, mean tone
That's when I interceded,
and said leave the poor woman alone
My two friends looked at me
like I was some kinda traitor
That day we parted ways,
there would be no more days of "see ya later"
In a moment of truth,
will you stand up for the truth?
Or will you back down,
and keep your mouth shut?
It's moments like those
that reveal what manner of person you are
Will you be naked or clothed?
Will your spirit be dark,
or will it shine like a star?
Nobody ever said friendships are forever,
not when you have to compromise
your integrity in a matter
In a moment of truth,
don't keep your mouth closed
Let your voice roar
like a lion, strong and bold!
socialism communism fascism despotism
buddhism catholicism hinduism zoroastrianism
territorialism colonialism imperialism expansionism
positivism relativism behaviorism existentialism
adventurism escapism negativism nihilism
puritanism fanaticism extremism terrorism
sexism chauvinism ultra-nationalism jingoism
hedonism epicureanism ~ stoicism asceticism
patriotism heroism altruism idealism
activism idealism individualism exceptionalism
atheism deism monotheism paganism
optimism pessimism cynicism romanticism
atheism secularism humanism utopianism
hypnotism mysticism exorcism surrealism
~ and what if there were a schism in each and every 'ism!'
Will You See Truth Beyond That Dark Stone Fence
Can you feel true heart in early dawn's light
soft grace and gentle winds in Spring's new flight.
Can soul feel Nature's benevolent course
from open mind, mankind's weakness divorce?
Hear morning doves as they sing out soft calls
let kindness escape from imprisoned walls.
Gather knowledge, true strength from mother Earth
seek truth in doing right with all your worth.
See brilliance in every golden sunset
cease striving for all earth's wealth you can get.
See Nature, its great eye-opening gifts
let grace come as your spirit it uplifts.
Will you see truth beyond that dark stone fence
find calm over world's chaotic suspense?
R.J. Lindley,
April 14th, 1982