Long Achingly Poems
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Nothing comes,
no words, no phrases, no lyrics song or hum,
no ink flow from the pen,
no matter how hard I try, no matter when.
Even my fingers hurt
slipping across the keys in random spurts,
and the keyboard letters skip
coming more then than now, a tiny blip.
An emptiness lies pushed down deep inside unrecognized
and in my alone-ness this is where I hide
waiting for inspiration,
some inner revelation.
Once it was able to live and come alive
long ago and once before now wishing to be revive
but for the moment, long and tempting
I am empty
The verse and prose once easily flowed
but has lost its way to the unknown now achingly slowed
Patiently I search for cadence, rhythm, wording and rhyme
hoping that it is only lost for a time.
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
From the beginning our shaky love was fated.
We had met and I fell, but patiently waited,
a fact for which both of our families were glad.
Even though we spoke with words insinuated,
I will always wonder what sort of love we had.
I wonder if we were a curious dyad.
Was this acerbic love become hate belated?
Only God will decide if this is good or bad.
I was naive and blindly infatuated.
Love faded rapidly after we had dated.
I wondered if I should remain calm or be mad,
I questioned guilty feelings that were created.
You were seventeen years older than I, and sad.
You were time-worn, emotionally armor-clad.
I understand now you would never be sated.
You bore the spirit of an unsettled nomad,
from the beginning our shaky love was fated.
Achingly romantic dreams I had created,
a basis for lifetime togetherness’ launchpad.
Alas, I have become confused and frustrated.
Tomorrow, in a renewed search for Galahad,
I will always wonder.
Melancholy, like a tipping light
Receives its glory within the spite
An hour of unrest bringing with it art
The wind blowing perils while seas do part
Like ransomed thought trimmed off the track
The gloomy, murky night does snack
Upon the weak that slowly fade
Into nurtured arches of gentle jade
Worlds apart have we become
Unified by scum of garish glum
Building word into world like brick upon brick
Worlds that commune—worlds that stick
She lifts her body into the tide
And curls up billions deep inside
Like a transparent ghost, see her flash
Scented winks through coated ash
Inspired by naught—yet risen from afar
A throbbing for purpose—a dying star
Beat of drum does not quake her being
Lashes close, too wet for seeing
Withered rest never falls on her days
The night closes upon her as she sways
Under bridges festooned in moss
She feeds on diseases, pain and loss
Where she goes, no one truly knows
Where she goes, she truly grows
Bird and beast find no arrays
Of her blackening faerie gaze
But of man does every smile count
For their minds do linger in and out
Grasping onto her rigid quintessence
Nearly failing upon the evanescence
Lacking all and full of dour
Man accepts its only cure
A flask of clear—of ***** agile
Tempered by tempests recruiting the bile
Howls of wind have blown its course
Emotions caught inside her force
None do sway so achingly free
Except the ever-living Melancholy
I need to;
Lay on the beach and feel the wet sand on my skin.
Wander through a field of sunflowers.
Believe in the power of love.
I need to;
Swim naked in warm blue water.
Walk a path in the woods saying hello to everything green and alive.
Sit amongst the roots of a giant tree and just be still.
I need to;
Feel simplistic joy, and not let anything stop me from feeling it out loud.
Feel the earth between my toes.
Feel there is no reason I can't do anything.
I need to;
Dance with abandon to a drumbeat around a midnight fire.
Be with others who are not afraid to be completely in the moment.
I need to;
Feel connected to humanity by a hand held gently to my face,
or the achingly sweet press of lips to my forehead.
Feel the warm and wonderful hands of my children held within my own.
Fall asleep with a smile on my face.
I need to;
feel.
L. ruby Meyer
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire,"
drawing an ambience for dreamers to dream
with watercolor whispers and acrylic zen ~
amorous, magnetic, and achingly alluring,
dusted in mauve-winged wishes,
as the moon’s crown sparkled in gold…
O beloved crescent ~ that stirs my ink,
love me like sultry sea waves,
rippling through Cupid’s veil ~
a surreal sketch of sunset soulmates,
destined to dance beyond time’s thistles,
oblivious to the jades of jealousy.
Meet me where memories fade,
and pain is an unfamiliar poem,
for I wear your love-stained letters ~
breathless, spellbound, and intoxicated
by the scent of handwritten heartbeats…
But if stars could sing, and dusk could speak,
would you heed the tunes of twilight,
like rain tracing fire along your skin,
while night hangs silent, and the breeze unfurls~
a ballet of butterflies in sync,
with the pulse and kiss of lunar lace…
on a hot summer afternoon,
dreaming silently, wistfully, achingly…
a frosty dish, glistening…
chilled by the freezer cold
ice cream, blended with heart shaped
scarlet strawberries, sweet
silhouettes of promises…
scrumptiousness sliding over my tongue
making me sigh, breathless
as the whisper of soft white clouds
gliding through a smiling azure sky…
giggling, laughing, delighting
in the luscious beads of satisfaction
bleeding joy from my dish,
awakening my heart…
dancing with joy, like a wish…
for one more spoonful!
Ice Cream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
June 20, 2022
Sitting in his favourite cafe
Latte in hand
Engrossed in the words
In his familiar newspaper land
Startled by a loud rumble
Dark clouds loomed above
The heavens suddenly opened
His thoughts turned to his true love
She was a free spirit
He was conservative
Their differences worked beautifully
Compromise and consideration being the alternative
She loved the rain and how it made her feel
She was at one with the rain
She showed him how to embrace it
He never viewed the rain the same
A lifetime together walking in the rain
Playful they laughed and danced
They swam in the wild raw ocean
A time of precious love and romance
He achingly missed her
Though felt blessed to have had those years
She was and will always be his one and only
His memories welled his eyes with tears
Jolted back to reality
Composed once again
With a smile and a happy heart
He stepped out into the pouring rain
Will event of creation be revealed
By the James Webb telescope
Concentrating time
Like a kaleidescope?
Galaxy after Galaxy
Slowly being revealed.
Will the moment of Creation
Always remain concealed?
Will we ever see the glory
Of the birth of timespace,
Can James Webb ever show us
Creation taking place
Or will that event remain
Tantalisingly out of sight
So no Theory of Creation
Can ever be proved right?
Is the James Webb Telescope
Just a step too far
Should we not accept
We are what we are.
Just because we can
Doesn’t alway mean we should
Maybe sometimes a mystery
Can be for the common good.
Should the thirst for knowledge
Remain achingly unsated
Do we really need to know
How such beauty was created?
Are we unique sentient beings
Set here to record and investigate
Or an accident of nature, by chance
Unable to accept our inevitable fate?
James Webb Telescope enables us
To less blindly search, to grope
Towards an understanding that may
Give our species future survival hope.
Gaze into the battling fire - a whisper in savage red,
And into the clouds that travel at the blind and cyclic wind's behest.
When the murmur within starts to weave its frail thread,
Calmly, let your soul rest in arms, as both alchemist and martyr in your quest.
Don't ask if it's allowed, or if it's right,
Nor if the advice of scholars tightens its grip in your palm.
Or if Zeus, Christ, or Vishnu might smile with delight,
As you drift from the world to your infinite realm, so calm.
There, in the cradle of fire and dreams, midst the heart of the blaze,
Your echoes build palaces from whispers of silk, so faintly humming.
Your conscience grows vast, and the desert, thirsty for rains,
Answers, achingly alive, to their call, deeply drumming.
Let thought cross from the sacred to the profane,
Make a hymn of the spirits that voice your inner sanctum’s domain.
For teachings are maps of dreams, not fate,
And in the sea of knowledge, you're a diligently wandering wraith.
The leaf bows in the wind, and the star in immensity,
Just as you, before your own flame, reverently incline.
Don't ask for permission to heed your own words set free,
Their scent is sacrosanct in your temple, no door shall confine or undermine.
Listen to your voice when it sings, when it wails,
When it writhes in your chest like a serpent, or like an angel prevails.
It's more than just a flutter, it's a charter divine,
A personal testament, a chronicle of your path, through the fog and the wormwood entwine.
Shooting stars penetrate the midnight sky
There is an unexplainable wonder that space fills inside
An astonishing sight unveils itself before my eyes
Not only from the stars, but from the night against the light
The achingly hollow cold—the marrow of my delight
Has slipped ever so soundly in my soul
The fog blankets the ground and reaches our feet
I feel the chilliness taking its toll
The ground shakes violently, perturbing uneasy life
And we witness the lightning flaring up the heavens
We see bodies collide in the distance. . .
Tons and tons of fear choke us all
And I can only watch the sky
As the innocent souls wither and die
I marvel at both natures—fellow man and creation
Muttering to myself nightmares of veracity
My eyes cradle the beauty left in the scene
It blows away everything once explained
I continue to shield myself from the light above
The stars can only pour over me for split moments
As my abjuration seeps like blood into the reveling soil
Shattering like glass
Piercing us like arrows
February 20, 2013
A collaboration with my sistah, Laura Breidenthal (awesome poet) xD