The worst of all:
the nestled dream.
Escape the first
with stifled scream,
but all is not
restored, it seems...
You try to flail
or move about,
but none can hear
you thrash and shout.
At last, you find
an exit door;
your thoughts of sleep?
Not anymore...
With one eye fixed,
the gods implored
to stay awake
but as before,
the cycle loops;
you start to snore!
the cleansing tears of stratus sky
the silver tress as death draws nigh
she implored her loves that cry
to not regret ~ do not lament
for all her days were heaven sent...
May 29 ~ For Nette's Color my Mood
They asked "Can you come and help us please"
"You are to far, to far to see"
They said " We are lost, starving. We need something to eat."
"The apples don't fall far from the trees. You must come closer and see"
They exclaimed "Excuse me, but they are just out of reach!"
"Then get off your knees, get off your knees!"
They proclaimed " These apples are black and filled with disease."
"Then just raise the ovens to 400 degrees."
They implored "Excuse me, are the apples ready for eat?"
"GET CLOSER AND SEE! GET CLOSER AND SEE!
For the millionth time I implored
the memory that I adored,
the only girl for me,
"I'll love you as long as I'm alive,
but, alas, how can I survive,
as you, from me, your love, deprive?
My love is all for thee."
For the first time, it gently spoke,
memory's ghost to a heart that broke,
"Listen close to me.
No one else can from you, deprive.
Your true love is within, alive.
It's time for it to grow and thrive."
And thus, it set me free.
you're
damaged goods,
people say
many
implored me
to run,
not walk,
far away
from you;
they told me
loving you
was a sickness,
but I'd take
my chances
fighting
against
the beast within....
a feeling
that keeps on
b l o o m i n g
in my heart
for you
I'm deaf
to all entreaties.
it's me and you
v e r s u s
all of humanity!
if my devotion to you
is indeed...
"a sickness"
then...
I want
no cure,
I need
no doctor,
and I'll take
no drugs;
I'd rather remain...
sick.
I sould not stop for Death—Impatience—
Spurred my footsteps on—
His carriage lingered at the gate—
But I had long since gone—
--
The daisies whispered at my heels—
The wind implored me stay—
Yet Time unbuttoned from my grasp—
And swept the road away—
--
I met the dawn with breathless haste—
Too swift to turn—too late—
A wee little biscuit softly implored
a gruff, hard-hearted and tuberous yam,
"oh, why, my dear friend, must you be so hard?"
and the yam replied, "I am what I am!"
"In my kitchen, I will not have this chat",
I said, as, into the oven they went.
"Now I'm soft", said yam, an hour after that.
"But I'm hard", I heard from the oven vent,
"...if, my dear yam, I might beg your pardon,
while this heat made you warm up and get soft,
I had to wait, and burned up to harden",
said the biscuit as the black smoke did waft.
Poem idea? Don't make my mistake,
or you will burn your house down while you bake.
When Grandpa died and his clock still ticked,
he fell from a ladder by a tree -
nor could that clock on the wall predict
when I died at age twenty-three.
A traveling artist, who, out of luck,
implored gramps (...how'd he know his name?)
My grandpa was kind. A deal was struck.
Soon his picture was in a frame.
The parlor portrait's eyes would follow
me, conveying every feeling.
Kindness and cheer, I could swallow,
but remonstration sent me reeling.
A frisbee stuck in a tree, so high,
Grandpa said he'd retrieve it for me.
Just hold the ladder, please, small fry?
and that's all that he asked of me.
Nobody knows that story but me.
I sway gently as the wind does blow,
from a branch on that sycamore tree,
but the eyes on the portrait know.
When dragons ruled the atmosphere
gliding here, and then flying there.
No battle waged on kingdoms where
the magical beasts made their lair.
The wind blew strong beneath their wings,
whispering wise, wizardly things.
As though angelic chorus sings,
their smoky song of solace brings.
Calling for calm against the wrongs
that other beings flung in throngs.
Let us live and sing soothing songs!
This land to everyone belongs!
"Peace!" They implored throughout the sky.
In formation, they flew close by
signaling in soft lullaby
that fearful others heed their cry.
Though they flew throughout darkened set
of sun and rise of moon – not yet!
Scathing hate spewed from whom they met.
Unwilling hearts to live and let!
Hunger, all I know is hunger
Is all she would say
As she slid the blade
Sparking off the concrete
Hunger, all I know is hunger
In a trance she would sway
Phantasmagoric cartoon reel
Missing picture framed
Perspire breath you sea
Hunger, all I know is hunger
For nibble of a meaty treat
Playing hide and seek
Scarlet necklace adorned
Crimson choker implored
Garnet locket she slays
Ruby waterfall your grave
Hunger, all I know is hunger
The last words you hear
Before your light fades to gray
Hunger, all I know is hunger
Bone cracking permeates
She is no longer hungry
Yesterday’s Wishes 6-25-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yesterday’s Wishes
Yesterday’s wishes never grow stale,
Immortal dream walkers glint in platinum.
Fresh hope with wings, like moonbeams in a mason jar,
Nudges wrinkled wishing stars
To capture a prayer implored on the first star,
Slipping through starlight on a chivalrous quest
Determined to take destiny outside the ephemeral.
One fluttering penny never scarred by disbelief
Lives in moments of perpetual could.
A breath, ever new, kisses Heaven
On a still pond without wrinkles
With a heartbeat that shakes time and astronomy
By blasting beyond algorithms and black holes
Into the unexamined fantastical.
Ever youthful wishes charge past the iron will of probabilities
When heartbeats flutter outside of mortality.
Possible stomps on the impossible in resurrection
Grabbing Eden’s fragments, fancies of faith,
As yesterday’s wishes belong to eternity
And live in a forever dawn waiting to bloom.
No matter nature’s placement woes
Of ears and lips and eyes and nose
Or beauty’s plan for symmetry
That makes us each a you and me
No matter fingers, hands or feet
Or weight to lose and scales to cheat
Of length and girth for short or tall
Appendages a size too small
The heart of kindness knows no rules
Of gracefulness that’s learned in schools
Instead its beauty rests assured
Its favor need not be implored
For love which guides a gentle soul
That cares and carries love’s patrol
Needs not to worry form’s design
Most beautiful is love divine
Working on borrowed time
Sleep a passing memory
Creation a chain to be forged
Crunching out the keys of the board
Alone and tiresome
Confused but implored
We seek the strength to know more
The delivery is an finite art
Of complication requiring a simplified start
Where the idiot and the fool do play its part
In the transfer of ideas where you suddenly feel smart
Light bulbs and blank stares
A culmination of time passing
As the droning tone becomes a morgue
Or salvation
Judgment is powerful
Pressure is clear
You stand always naked
Before all of you peers
The I don't knows
The I need helps
Become a stoic road block
In your mental health
Success is measured
Not by your own stick
But a governing power
Unwilling to share tricks
You live, you breathe, you die
With all that you know
Sometimes not enough time
To put on a show
I was wondering what a painting about one of my poems look like
Grimly gathering of gnarly letters
So take this one would it
slipperyness of eels in heels
Would my light one haze of neon faze
Would oil slick inks hint of tyres hanging cliff
Stuck between being and bee spell
Check one Czech too
slathering like squidwards tongue
Could you imagine if an artist paints your words
Would colour be redily available
Tones scared of the zones
ReaDy this inbRed distuRbEd if you
CaRED imploRed deRavED REaD
ErR closED follow the road
Penguins in trees with silk people sleeves
Peppered with sir and the gents
Belittle a little be
I mean we’re
would ewe start
I was wondering what a painting about one of my poems look like
Grimly gathering of gnarly letters
So take this one would it
slipperyness of eels in heels
Would my light one haze of neon faze
Would oil slick inks hint of tyres hanging cliff
Stuck between being and bee spell
Check one Czech too
slathering like squidwards tongue
Could you imagine if an artist paints your words
Would colour be redily available
Tones scared of the zones
ReaDy this inbRed distuRbEd if you
CaRED imploRed deRavED REaD
ErR closED follow the road
Penguins in trees with silk people sleeves
Peppered with sir and the gents
Belittle a little be
I mean we’re
would ewe start
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