Wicked chocolate slab
Marking a milestone
A table for two indoors
Missing the threesome
Not there, three decades
To jubilate from afar
Toasting another year
Wishing her more power
Torn apart so long
Strangers in the dark
Genes beat reality
Ties that knit tightly
The golden child
Mirroring the original
On top of the world
For a slice of cake
calling you the golden child is rude of me when I know your going thew your own kind of pressure. mom and dad want you to be perfect and excel where they failed with me. they see a future in you because they don't see one in me. they put pressure on you to be perfect because I'm the family disappointment and up. so mom and dad see all the perfection they can put into you instead of me because they have given up on me and that's fine because I'm going to rebuild a name for myself and I hope one day you can be proud of me Jericho I don't understand but your's and dad's approval or being proud of me means the world to me I only care what you tow think. I hope one day we will be close. I hope one day I wont be in you shadow or anyone else's I hope Jer Jer that one day you can be proud to call me your sister and I hope one day dad can be proud to call me his daughter.
The leaves, long gone, each golden child carried
on autumn draft to reach a season's death,
portends bitter squalls will blow the harried
vines with long, cruel winter's icy breath.
Now slumber long beneath the warming banks
upon your tender roots deep in the earth.
All while stillness patrols your sentried ranks,
you strengthen sap to bring a new year's birth.
The spice of burning wood pervades the air
as gentle snipping of the pruning shear
sets free your limbs for summer fruit to bear;
from tender newborn buds, which soon appear.
And so the cycle starts for wondrous vine
to once again turn sunshine into wine.
O little girl, my darling,
You grow too quickly.
You were the golden child,
The lovely Sydney Grace,
Now rushing to be a woman
Long before I am prepared.
How can I keep you small?
But grow you must
And blossom in your time.
That sweet blue-eyed infant
Will live in my heart
Till the end of my days,
And beyond.
He had always been her hero
She his golden child
The youngest and only girl of five children
He was completely beguiled
He loved and treated each equally
A good man to them all
He was kind ,loving and protective
To them he was ten feet tall
She loved him like no other
A bond never to break
He ….would always be her hero
Her ….his treasured child of grace
Now she sits in a chair opposite him
Her eyes welled with tears
Angrily he asks her “Who are you”?
“What are you doing here”?
This society is quietly infusing love inside of me,
Though testing my sobriety and everything that I believe,
A good man what I try to be while suffocating trying to breathe,
I wish I had a time machine to change my past cause honestly,
The future don't inspire me I wake up then I cry from dreams,
Mouth to pillow hiding screams smiling trying to hide these things,
This life is but a trial it seems must separate from childish schemes,
Growing up without the means to be myself it always seems,
That I can never find relief my heart been searching hard for peace,
Around most folk I hardly speak I only talk through art discreet,
If life a play my part is weak the golden child who's scarred beneath,
Looking at the stars I seek a way for me to starve this beast.
What wind cannot respect a dying leaf
Whose gentle whisp goes on a raging spree
And rips the fading foliage from a tree
Then tears away without a faint remorse
Nor stops to mourn with stricken bough
Nor hears the barren pledge a solemn vow
To save next autumn's golden child,
But slashes on to raid another's arm
And set another writhing in alarm
What wind cannot respect a dying leaf
Whose presence only serves a bitter grief.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's "All Yours" Contest
Poetry Soup
When once my Kayleigh
And Bianca asked
Uncky Chris why is our sister
Schade treated different better
than us
I had to hide a tear welled and my
eye's glassed
As truthful the honest answer was
She is and was the blue eyed
golden child
And still today my replies both
hurts and stings
Because what is one to supposed
to say put in that situation
And given my beautiful niece's
are not fool's
Otherwise why would they have
felt the need to raise the question
And they do know as do i
My retort and response will
be a lie scrambling to pave over
They will never be treated the
same as the sister they refer
to as she called Princess
Because sadly she is the one
prized and loved most above
of them all
And thought i understand and
accept we all amongst us have
our favorites
Please dear god never make it
So damn patent
Children feel the need to ask
Sleep, New Year …..
Sleep New Year, in cold Winter’s frozen grasp.
From deep slumber dream of the coming year;
Give Old Winter's end to March’s last sharp gasp,
Let playful Spring banish false Winter cheer.
Past the equinox in chilled slumber’s dream
Tell the year’s gifts, set in harsh Winter’s hand,
Which, given to Seasons in turn, will scheme
To let bold Summer play upon the land.
Then, in her turn, show fair fragile Autumn,
Golden child of Winter now come of age.
Dream New Year, in blanket of cool mists cloaked,
White shrouded against the harsh season’s rage.
Foretell, when the tired and ageing year wanes,
How spent seasons pass and then sleep again.
01/08/2017
One sister is wise
And infinitely older
The other is recent
And still learning
At one time she
Was admired and respected
But now the golden child
Takes all the love for herself
With waterfalls she
Creates a rainbow
The other uses pixels
In which we can view anytime we like
One kills thousands with wind and rain
To gain attention
While the other
Simply shuts down
One was original
Appearing at the very first
The other was a jealous girl
A half baked idea
The hippies will eat all organic apples
on their way to the Apple store.
At the same time we poets type on our keyboards,
"And oh how the seagulls soared."
We can't pick our family.
We love them both.
In the furnace of her belly deep
The makers spell is cast
My Golden Child is set to sleep
'til mother shines her last
Only through her deathly leap
My child comes to pass
My Golden Child to make you weep
With craving wanton grasp
She's a heart breaking
Bitter mistress
My Golden Child is hypnotizing
Such dazzling beauty you can't resist
You can't resist my Golden Child
In her reflected glow your hearts go weak
A white flag up the mast
My golden child you'll want to reap
Seductive poison passed
Eleven days before Christmas, as we were singing, " A Child Is Born"...
fluffy snowflakes came down and they were as big as white popcorn.
Surprised mom yelled, " Run to the window, they are more beautiful than snow flowers
and daises... " Go, catch some into your warm hands and dream of Bethlehem's stars!"
Astonished as those shepherds watching their sheep under the starriest sky,
we saw pretty snowflakes not a wondrous star followed by the three Magi.
They kept on falling and floating like dry leaves on a December's cold evening...
when carols were played on a church organ that was taller than any ceiling.
Merrier than angels announcing Christ's birth, we stared at His bright stable...
and what we felt was the humbleness of a King whose love was so ample.
Once again, we ran back to the snow-dusted window and looked into the quite sky,
among the gleaming snowflakes: a golden child appeared asking for a happy lullaby.
Entered in Francine Robert's contest,
" A Winter Couplet "
My theme: First Snowfall
Finished before start
Colts fans leap from Bandwagon
Peyton Manning's hurt
I met him in the town's local cafe
A young adonis working the railroad line.
Long blonde hair, eyes so blue,
with a strong muscular body too.
He asked me to meet him the next day
Agreeing, this became our first date
A local fair was in town that day
Hand in hand we made our way.
Together we climbed a high hill
To watch the horse races run
He leaned over and kissed me long
My heart went flop and it was done.
Young hearts giving it a try
a few moments between a young girl and guy
That first kiss from this golden child
All thoughts began to run wild.
It ended at the fireworks that night
He was leaving with the morning light
The first kiss, remembered forever
The first date an extreme pleasure.
for Carol's contest
07/08/11
Phyl
Since im an overbudget million dollar man
i should know how to act out one of the perfect lives
three of them a part of a matrix of pulling off a utopia
what life lessons do these actors need to act out
for the audience to understand which part of the holy plan we are at
which part of the rapture for peace can we all act out
the golden child metaphor no longer leaves you walking a red carpet grave
the hand you are dealing yourself you learn to stack your own deck
Muse of inspiration of such an elaborate plan
of writers, singers actors, working together in unison
step by step
scene by scene of three perfect lives that pull of world peace
the big plan for the planet to watch the show, and cheerlead them by song
if you have a job or are alive
either way you are hired to do this
a plan you cannot fail
because you will get it eventually
the world is a stage
welcome to the planet
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