Best Wanting(A) Poems
I am a character
In search of my author
Walking great distances in a circle
Wishing for a plot
Wanting a destination
Perhaps a soliloquy
Please fill my lips with your words
If you wish I will play the fool
You be my King
I am yours to rule
For too long
I have been without a script
From a confused heart my thoughts have dripped
Within your story I wish to be gripped
The Author of me
From whom I have roamed
Through your scriptures I will comb
Till I learn the lines that lead me home
As I study please capture my mind
Till within my spirit we are intertwined
Light from light no longer blind
You are the beginning and completion of me
Apart from you I cease to be
Thankyou, Thankyou for helping me see
The part of Your story written for me
Love feels like it has gone far away
She used to exist everywhere it seems
Now she hides in fear of being used up or let down
Most now, don’t even remember what she feels like
I remember long ago
Love used to have big bright colors
lightening bugs would soar through the night sky
with dancing white beams that glowed in the dark
four leaf clovers would spring from green pines of grass
but would ever elude being found and plucked
by those wanting a taste of its Irish good luck
floral beach balls and pink rubber kick balls were the center of summers delight
camp fire girls adorned navy blue vests and strutted proudly holding red white and blue flags down main street on Memorial Day
lazy polka dot burnt orange black lady bugs
would sleep under the sun
waiting to be scooped up
each child hoping to find the lady
with the most dots
to win the game
cotton candy colored May Day dances held in the public-school yard always on the hottest and sunniest day of the year
each student excited about dressing up in colorful garbs from different cultures around the world
Love was innocent then...
Love had the best aromas too
tide detergent, vanilla extract
talcum powder, wonder bread
sweet potato pie
hot dogs on toasted rolls at the public pool
Chanel #5 on Church Sundays
lots of Chanel #5
Love had the most wonderful sounds
the rustle of fall leaves under your feet
the crunch of plastic sofa covers at grandma’s house
sitting on the porch listening to night crickets on dad’s lap
Maybe love is actually still here
Waiting for us to love her back
She has not been treated well lately
I hope that she will give us all another chance
And come back soon
Hopefully this time
She will stay
Butterflies
Clouds passing away swiftly.
Like the desert sand.
Laying peaceful on the ground.
Seeing the worlds silent stand.
Breathing faintly with no sound.
While my life slips back into Gods hands.
Counting each beat from my heart.
Leaving behind this shallow land.
Taking one last glimpse in my eye.
Something came to carry me away.
Without giving me a chance to say goodbye.
Not wanting a reason to stay.
Gliding away into the blue sky.
Fully departed from my body where I lay.
My life in front of me revealed.
Blessing all those days I would pray.
God protecting me with his shield.
Kept his promise to take me back one day.
Now I am back where I belong.
Pass the horizon of the ocean sky.
Living among the butterflies.
Reunited with my love ones.
Who where also carried by butterflies.
For you I will wait beyond the sun.
Somewhere deep inside the skies.
When your life on earth is done.
You will also be carried by butterflies.
If for some reason you are carried of by bats.
It is your own fault.
You will be put in a dark cave with the rats.
All alone locked in your own vault.
I.T.
S.K.A.T. POETRY
Children growing old and fading
innocence shattered with the curse of abandon
frozen between the first stage
of a baby's breath and navel,
desperate to live in real homes
after years of return and exchange
thrown from garbage to luggage…
foster home mother,
unit mother,
nun mother,
volunteer mother…
what’s a mother?
And I watch broken toddlers come and go
some small, a few tall, others weak,
most climbing inside tears or curling inside fire
nonetheless, they are all the same...
they just want to be loved as normal kids;
and I feel how they crave to belong
in a nest of stars without love’s regret.
I cradle their dreams with healing balm
pouring grains of future's summer dreams,
as I watch them come and go:
these, my “children” fly with kindling hope
playing as if to forget the numbness of dragged pain
steady still in the passing of riddled uncertainty…
"When will you come back?"
"Am I pretty or not?"
"Will my nightmares stop?"
And I watch broken toddlers come and go
changing, always changing my own truth…
Oh there’s so much more I need to accept,
for I can never have one of them as mine
being single and mostly alone ,
like these children... wanting a family.
.........................
For the toddlers of an orphanage where
I volunteer as a counselor.
...............................
The Poet's Ache Contest / Sponsor: Greg Barden
Re- submitted 8/1/2017
"War and Peace in the Days of Love’s Retribution"
All is fair
in Love and War
they say
Lost are the
gambling angels
who walk tight ropes
from the point
where time departed
the jewel stolen from her crown
sacrificed for
something better
a child’s happiness
another fallen
goddess
tripping between
the cracks
pinned to a wall
in a sunless place
where light tries
but fails dismally to get in
suspended heart’s arrow
caught forever bleeding
in betrayal’s
sticky web
Failure’s warrior
wanting a sword for
cutting tongues
War and Peace
lost and found
unconditional
In the time
of unjust justice
follows freedom
wearing a new light
darkly burning in
the time of Love’s retribution
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
gvlm
"Hurts Like Hell" / Fluerie
https://youtu.be/Uil0L-0F4no
"“Once I was brave
enough
to leave home,
I discovered
splendid parts of me
I had no clue existed.
I, then,
realized
where they came from
and hurried home.”
BUYING CONDOMS
I was desperate to buy me some condoms
On a Wednesday morning in June
My girlfriend had made me a promise
And we were meeting up that afternoon
For she'd noticed that in my frustration
My flat....which I kept fairly neat
Now had fingernail marks on the ceiling
And teethmarks on the toilet seat
So she promised an hour of pleasure
As pleasurable as it could be
She wanted fifty eight minutes
With the other two minutes for me
Now you folks are probably thinking
Splitting an hour like that was a crime
But in my mood of complete desperation
Two minutes seemed like a long time
So I stood in a queue in the chemist's
Hoping to be quite discrete
While the lady in front bought and paid for
Corn plasters to stick on her feet
And when my turn came I was gutted
I though 'this must be a joke'
For a gorgeous young girl came to serve me
I was wanting a grizzly old bloke
Embarrassed I picked up some aspirin
But her smile put me quickly at ease
She said as she took the box from me
'Would you like some condoms with these?'
'We have them in black, red or tartan
And ribbed ones to last a long time'
'Do you have a favourite flavour?
We have peppermint, strawberry or lime'
'Flavours?'........ I nervously stuttered
'Strawberry?.......'Is that what you said?'
'These things are to go on my winkie'
'Not between two slices of bread'
She chuckled away as she wrapped them
She'd decided on tartan and lime
And smiled as she gave me the packet
Then wished me a really good time
I dashed around home in a frenzy
The minutes were ticking away
My girlfriend was coming here shortly
For our sixty minutes of play
My clothes hit the floor in a heartbeat
I put on my condom with glee
And the first that she saw, as she opened the door
Was my tartan condom and me
She screamed as the door closed behind her
Her face like a deathly white mask
Then pointed and silently shuddered,
'What're you going to do with that flask?'
I chuckled 'It isn't a flask it's a condom'
Tartan and flavoured with lime'
With disgust she turned and departed
Walking out for the very last time
So my day of passion was stifled
I didn't make it as far as the bed
And as my condoms were lime flavour
I had them with corn flakes instead
It took on a life of its own,
the writing.
Wanting a voice to speak
of the way it had been,
was and would be,
all the yesterdays,
the now and tomorrow.
Like nature,
like god eternal.
A voice so powerful
the world would listen
and talk of this writing.
The sublime craft of it
discussed by all
who knew such things.
But, in the end,
no one read that he was dead,
the writing ended,
the voice stilled
in a forever place ... and fame,
that fleeting human need ... ?
Words remembered, written on a page
with a life of their own, its all
the lasting fame ever known.
WHEN TEARS TOUCH
The twelfth of November reminds me of the day
when our paths first crossed then came to grow on trail.
Soon... all the days like waves rolled into years
as we reminisce our pasts: joys and tears for fears.
A pad with pen I hold to write what pops by;
Each tint and curve a bell that says, you and I.
The words are mere push and pull medley of thoughts
shaping a circle melody of heart shots.
Learning flower our way as our cultures shared;
gem writings topically crafted are compared.
Feelings flood colours to our world, closer we became--
Creeping longing is "our meeting" as this both our aim
Beep and peek are lace ladders to higher trust grounds,
every tap and trade a thread fortifying our bond.
The lasso tying our heartstrings to etch some rhymes,
vital signs checked normal but awhile raise second hands
Can it be that this a fruit of stardust's grand wand?
Or a rose waiting to bloom and behold upon bosoms?
Now the day has arrived, suitcases packed, I smile
a journey, I have dreamt about, many many miles.
Nervousness cocoons but it's normal to feel this;
for this my long wish as I enter the coming hours.
Distance and differences our silent enemies!
But... It did not stop us from thinking sound strategies.
Interest and love gleams as our loyal company
enabling us to draw verses of harmony.
Broken bridges we cross by grace of felicity~
yearning to meet eye-to-eye an intensity!
Along the wires we jibe to friendly deal
that as crisp December sings we will make it real.
The cool December made our wanting a tip-top exhilarate..
and from somewhere, a song plays:
"When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow
Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow.
When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close
Cos you know and you know that you know...."
_____________________________________________________________
*** the last stanza are lines taken from the song: "WHEN YOU KNOW" by Shawn Colvin from the movie Serendipity.
©J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo
October 29, 2014; 10:05 pm
Your words lance through to bone, acid sizzling into every hole
I haven't filled in, yet I dig, and ponder, and dig, filling in.
I still rock where the echoes of door slammed shut, bounce around
like a crazed nut of truth, crazed distorted view, walls where none existed.
The lifeline of my life was a frail strand on the morning breeze
I could pull into view, ride like a youth jumping the ocean waves
that you sucked into the cold vacuum of your jealous ways
and not ending there, you stole the skate board, stole the waves
locked me into a endless stuffed food binge where doubt could be sweetened
but locked me further into a closed room, like a finished book
that no one wanted to read the first time or the last or ever
because it answered no questions, kissed no lips, hungered for nothing
gave nothing back to the children of the wave, children of the clouds
and then squished all the children into little mushed piles you ate
and then complained they had no blood left. I dig, with this trowel
wanting a mirror of burial, where the skies can rain down upon the muck
and quiet your words, quiet your harping, quiet your blows upon pride
and leave me a trowel upon which I can live out or die, piling scar tissue
over endless lies, over the cries of hungry children, over the cries
of forgotten waves and restore someday the laughter and surprise of life.
News Flash! Dragons Back! He’s the News Hog of the Day.
No one can print, without him, becoming entangled in some way.
He heard that there’s a new newspaper lurking, around the bend.
He wants to know… if he can pose as the new Super Hero, therein?
He’s already has a cape, and cell phone, so those in trouble, can call.
But beware, of his landings, he’s known to knock things down, even walls.
Still he gives a striking pose for the paparazzi, who always following him.
He’s been made a junior fireman, because fire simply, doesn’t bother him.
He saved a cat form Old Lady Moores’ burning barn, just the other day.
Don’t believe the rumor, it started from a stray spark, one of his, they say.
Remember don’t say that, it makes our little Dragon cry…it was the wind!
Our Carpenter Trolls are building a new one; to replace the one, he did singe!
Acorn Falls is our town; Dragon seems to have put it on the map, to stay.
Folks in town are wanting a name change, to Dragon’s Mayhem Falls, today!
If you want an exciting vacation, let me know, I’ll tell you where, it’s at!
Here are the numbers to call, to contact us, and we even rent hard hats.
The carpenter Troll’s are 1-800-555- Repair & Fix
The town number has become 1-800-555- Mayhem Falls
My number for a joyous write is 1-800-555- let it rip
To Rent a Super Hero Dragon is 1-800-555-Dragon Here
Just remember that if you call Dragon, Please keep the other numbers on hand.
There’s a free coupon given, for first time services, if things don't go as planned.
And remember, if repairs are needed, a free barbecue, can be on the house.
Especially, if that’s what’s burning, so be prepared, eventually it'll be, put out!
Written 10-18-2014
It is so hard to say goodbye. The end has come.
I knew it would . . . someday. Such a good cat;
for twelve long years, my Grumpy, always there for me,
wanting a pat, a lap, a snack to make you fat.
I recall our first meeting on a freezing winter day,
cold, unfriendly eyes of a stray, rejected by the world;
alone and afraid, hissing. Slowly a trusting friendship,
and eventually in my arms you were curled.
How can I endure this cruel world without my friend?
But of course, I must go on . . . I imagine you;
in a beautiful garden, lush and green. Sunshine streaming,
bird songs filling the air, and a sky azure blue.
You are busy grooming your shiny brown tabby fur,
amber eyes twinkle, a little pink tongue busy curling;
a paw, a face . . . something catches your attention;
you jump up to swat a passing butterfly whirling.
Rolling in the cool grass, you curl up for a nap,
with a sigh . . . and death came to you like a thief;
till I draw my last breath, I will hold you in my heart,
the price I pay for loving you so much, is grief.
But, I would not change one moment of our time together,
you were a gift from God, to last me all my lifetime;
never to be repeated . . . as you drew your last breath,
I whispered in your ear, till to heaven I climb,
and I placed you in God's loving arms in the meantime . . .
__________________________
Written at sixteen years old
Posted, April 27, 2017
Elegy/In Memory Of Grumpy Cat
Copyright Protected, ID 895903
Juvenilia
Ceclia Hopkins-Drewer
__________________________
"All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small:
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all . . . ."
(Mrs. Cecil Frances Humpreys Alexander, 1848)
Man-made drugs
Induce an altered state
A psychedelic paradise
Of euphoria
A burst of colors
Impaired reality of dreams
A fix of blissful forgetfulness
Married to ecstasy
What need have I of these?
When I have you
My drug of choice
I will not touch any of the others
But you, I long to touch…
To feel you under my fingertips
To caress before I ingest
And let you posses...
Every way I can have you is good…
I inject
Inhale
Take you in orally
Taste you laced with everything
Under my tongue...
There…ah….there….it begins
I start getting high….
Climbing and climbing
My roller coaster rocketing high
On your words
On the scent of your emotions
On the presence of you in my mind
Who could ever find
A more wholesome or better stimulant...
Yes, you stimulate every part of me
You excite me
Make me delirious
Bring fire to my veins
Drive me insane
Make me oblivious to the pain
Leave me wanting more than the time before
Wanting a larger dose of you
More dangerous
More hallucinogenic
Unaware of my surroundings
I climax on this induced trip
You….my drug of choice
The drug from which
There is not even an iota
Of hope for rehabilitation….EVER...
Every cell to my very core is under your control
I want you coursing in my blood
Flooding my brain
FIX AFTER FIX AFTER FIX
More often…more intense…longer…stronger…
What drug can compare to you?
My ever present addiction…
Opiate of my obsession
Drug of my choice….
YOU!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Was struck by a bolt of inspiration on this one! :)
Belt it out with Amy Winehouse…..”They wanted to take me to rehab, but I said ‘NO, NO, NO’.” ;) When I teach my students a rule or so in grammar, I say, for example, "Can you use a comma to join two independent clauses? Is it enough punctuation?" Then, in answer, I belt out with Amy..."NO, NO, NO!" They laugh!
WHEN TEARS TOUCH
The twelfth of November reminds me of the day
When our paths first crossed then came to grow on trail.
Soon... all the days like waves rolled into years
As we reminisce our pasts: joys and tears for fears.
A pad with pen I hold to write what pops by;
Each tint and curve a bell that says, you and I.
The words are mere push and pull medley of thoughts
Shaping a circle melody of heart shots.
Learnings flower our way as our cultures shared;
Gem writings topically crafted are compared.
Feelings flood colours to our world, closer we became--
Creeping longing is "our meeting" as this both our aim
Beep and peek are lace ladders to higher trust grounds
Every tap and trade a thread fortifying our bond
The lasso tying our heartstrings to etch some rhymes
Vital signs checked normal but awhile raise second hands
Can it be that this a fruit of stardust's grand wand?
Or a rose waiting to bloom and behold upon bosoms?
Now the day has arrived, suitcases packed, I smile.
A journey, I have dreamt about, many many miles.
Nervousness cocoons but it's normal to feel this;
For this my long wish as I enter the coming hours.
Distance and differences our silent enemies!
But... It did not stop us from thinking sound strategies.
Interest and love gleams as our loyal company;
Enabling us to draw verses of harmony.
Broken bridges we cross by grace of felicity~
Yearning to meet eye-to-eye an intensity
Along the wires we jibe to friendly deal
That as crisp December sings we will make it real.
The cool December made our wanting a tip-top exhilarate..
and from somewhere, a song plays:
"When you feel in your skin in your bones and the hollow
Of your heart, there's no way you can wait till tomorrow.
When there isn't any doubt about it once you come this close
Cos you know and you know that you know...."
_____________________________________________________________
*** the last stanza are lines taken from the song: "WHEN YOU KNOW" by Shawn Colvin from the movie Serendipity.
© J. A. Fraser and O.E.Guillermo
October 29, 2014; 10:05 pm
Olivia for many decades
you have been my number one
in looking back over the years
these SUMMER NIGHTS were such fun
But so quick like GREASED LIGHTNING
we would speed along BANKS OF THE OHIO
thinking of wanting A LITTLE MORE LOVE
we would feel such a PHYSICAL glow
We were at such a height of MAGIC
that TAKE ME HOME COUNTRY ROAD fast
as indeed we sped along like GREASE
making light of all we passed
YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT
because BEING HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU
wishes you would MAKE A MOVE ON ME
to make my dream come true
Such a hit in the movies too
a festive cracker with CHRISTMAS ROMANCE
XANADU so full of music verve
Olivia GREASEd us with every chance
August 8th '22 is a real sad day
indeed was when the music did die
for that distinctive amazing voice
cause without it makes one cry
Olivia Newton-John was sheer amazing
every boy loved ONJ to be his girl
now gone but never will be forgotten
Olivia's beauty and voice brought such a thrill!
For my days fall away
But I remember you
I want to touch the memories
I just don’t know what to say
As my days fall away
I vaguely remember the chicken pox
Colored popcorn
And my first grade made
Robotic cereal box
The hen and the fox
I remember wanting a fire truck one Christmas
The marble red paint
The glass window in which it stained
I remember my foster mom saying it’s this one or nothing
I remember being too stubborn to accept the smaller version
Its these memories I daunt
It’s these reflections that constantly haunt
These were the highlights of my life
These were the only happy moments I knew
Yet I left them, moments so few
I remember where the wild things are
I remember marshmallow peanuts
Trick or treating and roasted pumpkin seeds
I remember visitation days
The beach-less sand the way we as children once played
I remember the door that never closed
Mexican casserole and never getting enough
Being afraid to swim
Yet finding my way to the roof of the house
With no way of getting down
I remember my first field trip
The dinosaurs and wanting to be an astronaut
I remember my San Francisco 49ers jersey
Number eighty, jerry rice my favorite player
Now days I tend to only clash with the mayor
It seems that images follow a window of time
And after it’s exhausted
We summon them our memories