I walked with thoughts in reverse;
Bairn of old suffered feat;
Dancing consciously as lunatics;
Made my pace run from me;
Then everything looked evil...
I smiled with thoughts in reverse;
Moments to cherish in bitterness;
With so much love for the pen;
The past taught about me;
Then everything looked evil...
I dreamed with thoughts in reverse;
Super human from a dead planet;
Heavy as crane, wings of an
airplane;
Trudging on a seeming ground;
Then everything looked evil...
I awoke with thoughts in reverse;
Super human from a dead planet?
Moments to cherish in bitterness?
Bairn of old suffered feat?
Truly, everything looked evil!
Movie
Folk's seem to be having a grand old time here tonight at Sam's place
The liquors flowing good time rolling while the band's singing the classics
Play it again Sam,
I wanna ask that fine looking dame over there to dance
That was the scenario playing out in my head
But its really just a line from a movie
Instead old blue eyes just exited stage left
As rejection is a dish best served cold
And quite frankly my dear I doo give a damn
There was an old man, a collector of sorts
Who made his living off of the dead
Through the obituary page he'd earn his wage
Buying things that others had shed
Though some said his job was just morbid
Preying off of the people who died
It wasn't a natural death that took their last breath
But those committing suicide
He bought the things that nobody wanted
For most were scared of a haunting or curse
But he didn't care he would always be there
The same day that they emptied the hearse
He was the only buyer at the auction
For everyone else was afraid
He just couldn't wait to steal their estate
And count all the money he made
'Til late one night while sleeping
Awakened by a bump in the night
At the foot of his bed stood a multitude of dead
As his heart stopped beating from fright
Death had returned to collect his debt
For the reaper would surely be paid
He auctioned his soul for the things that he stole
Until the highest bid was made
The old man had turned up missing
They found claw marks deep in his floor
The people couldn't wait to pilage his estate
For karma had knocked on his door
An old crinkled piece of paper
Yellowed with age laid in a box;
Sixteen Indian-head pennies
(Their luster as if newly mints)
Were strewed atop the aged pulp.
Being a curious fellow
That I am (more aptly a snoop)
I slipped the old stationary
From the seemingly ancient box
And began to read its content:
Dear Master Robert Hemingway,
Enclosed in this small cedar box
Are the pennies you requested
Each dated eighteen hundred sixty .
Yours truly, Abraham Lincoln.
Blind am I?
My sight is gone,
But blind? Not I!
My ears can hear,
My tongue can taste,
My nose can smell,
My eyes though broken
Are still the windows to
My soul!
I sense your movement.
I memorize your place.
I see your face through my hands
Through my skin;
I sense with in.
I move quicker than you.
I see more than you may think.
I see your cluttered room,
The fly on your window,
The day old pizza under your bed,
The old spice perfume fuming from your pores,
I sense your playful arrogance in front of my nose.
I am not blind, I merely can’t see.
For the love of God Evie,
Please give it a rest,
After last night you should know,
That I love you the best.
That Lilith thing I had,
Was ages ago
And no apples got eaten,
As I'm sure you must know.
Because you bit it first,
Then you gave me a bite,
And Then I jumped your bones,
For the rest of the night.
That evil old Snake,
Guess he wasn't so bad,
Though it's his fault we did it,
I feel kinda glad.
'Cause here in the garden,
It's really been swell,
But to be loved by you,
Was worth risking Hell.
So quit weeping old girl,
For your virginity's loss,
We both gotta Figure,
What we'll tell the Boss.
Now another day's dawning,
Please Honey don't cry,
Let me lay here and admire,
The curve of your thigh.
What's been done is done,
Our Sin can't be reversed,
Our prayers and apologies,
All sound rehearsed.
But if we're to be punished,
By our Master above,
I'll face it enraptured,
To have tasted your love.
Synopsis: I am not in old age, and won't be for a long time. In this poem, I'm trying to
explain how i want to go when my time comes.
I've always gone through life, living to my best ability.
Now I'm on my bed, in my old age, and I know it will happen.
The cells in my body are tingling now, and the dark is beginning to be lit up from a divine
source.
My mind is frantically jumping with joy, and my heart is beginning to skip around crazily.
Inside the light, the veil is immediately torn, and my dear father is leaning towards me.
The years I've missed him are over as he leans toward me and kisses my face, wet from
tears, and helps my spirit safely leave my body.
I immediately feel joy and happiness.
My youth has returned, and music is gracefully sounding from the eternities.
"Work is to be done!" I hear a voice call, as I help prepare the world for the baptism of fire.
Driving into town
church his destination
Body weak and weary
in need of inspiration
Just a retired handyman
short and rather stout
The Lord's been good to Jim
since surrendering his doubt
Started reminiscing
'bout a visit way before
in this same old church house
forty years ago, or more
Large cabin, high beamed ceilings
same pews to break his fall
Back then Jim didn't trust a soul
even maker of us all
What a long road it'd been
since he was last here
So much pain and tribulation
loneliness and fear
Running down a weathered face
were tears he could not hide
'bout 'foolish spent' vitality
when youth was on his side
Wondered if he stole a piece
of the church that he revered
Would it restore vigor past
if he held it near?
Startled church was over
Jim stood up with a grin
"Fancy, wishful dreams made me
forget why I came in!"
While walking through the lot he spied
an old oak by his truck
Jim cut a snippet off a branch
and brought it home for luck
The old woman has the magic eye she can foresee things
She informs people when they visit her what the future brings
She is dressed in a flowing swathe she has a crystal ball
She can tell you your fortune she can reveal it all
Gypsy blood runs through her veins from the old days
Her mother used to have the same fortune telling ways
Handed down through generations to the gifted few
They can reveal your future and the things you’re going to do
Is it magic or is it just weird how these women have the gift?
What they say will make you sad or give your spirit a lift
Cross her palm with silver and she will let you know
Everything you want to hear and how your future will go
The wind was howling and it was raining hard
My car had stalled on an old country road
Finding an old house in the darkness, I knocked
Asked to use her phone to have my car towed
She said It’s bad out there, my name is Laura
Please wait a second while I get the light
I live alone in this old house
I’d feel better if you spent the night
Later she came to my room
After dreams had filled my head
That longing in her deep green eyes
She crawled into my bed
She loved me like no other woman
There was a wild streak in her cries
And I found myself lost to this world
As I entered Paradise
The next day the storm was over
I left for town to get my car
It wasn’t quite finished yet
So I took a walk to the local bar
I asked the bartender if he knew Laura
If she ever came in to town
Did he know anything about her
Did he ever see her around
He said he only knew
Of the stories that others told
How her husband died in the Yukon
Prospecting for gold
How she cried when she got the news
That he was never coming back again
So she hung herself in that old house
In the year of 1910.
It lived in the toy box
It lived under the bed
It lived in the closet
And under the shed
It lived in the basement
All musty and dark
It lived in the hallway
It lived in the park
It lived under the bushes
That grew by the fence
It lived in the woods
Where the trees were so dense
It lived in the attic
Where old trunks were kept
It was stealth and quite sneaky
It attacked when I slept
Dad would come to my rescue
When I was afraid
He would check out the closets
He would close all the shades
He would leave on a night light
Outside of my room
He swept under the bed
With mom’s old battered broom
He would hug me and tell me
I was big and so brave
Then he’d yell at the boogie
And make it behave
So tonight I was called
To my little ones room
I smile as I walk in
To defeat boogies that loom
You'll see the truth
when it comes in on the breeze
Caught in the
moving winds of time
Old realities
pass us by
and we are suddenly
ready for a
sea - change
Deep flagons of
wine
await us at
journey's end
let's move
down the path
with a jaunty
air about us
After all, we have
just gained self
knowledge
Like the sun cutting
through the clouds
Our new songs will
replace the tired old ones
Drink deeply of the fruit of the vine
Laughter is a friend we can count on
For three generations, I have rocked
The old and young to sleep.
Lulled by my gentle motion,
They'd no need for counting sheep.
And as I've rocked they've told me
Many secrets I have kept.
We've sung lullabies together
And sometimes we have wept.
The years have passed so quietly,
I did not see them go.
I've been so busy with my work
Of moving to and fro.
I've grown old and tired
And am fraying at the seams.
Only a grandma left to rock
And dream old lady dreams.
Her busy children tell her
She's too old to live alone.
She must move to a care center.
I will be on my own.
I can hear them whispering,
For they don't want her to know,
She cannot take her furniture.
It really has to go.
They're saying they will move her out
And then they'll call Goodwill.
Perhaps some poor folks could find use
For that old rocker, still.
inspired by Deborah' contest. " The Chairs Tale"won hm
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