Long Almost certain Poems
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I’m on a twilight stroll with my beau,
we take a route we’ve often walked before.
Mystical moonlight flickers in the trees,
“whose woods these are, I think I know”*
A hooting owl startles me, I fall and twist my knee,
I try to stand, cry out pain; I cannot walk with ease.
We can see twinkling lights in the distance,
perhaps someone’s at home who can help me.
My beau covers me with his warm coat,
He hurries away so he can get assistance.
I pray that he doesn’t have too far to go,
and that the cottage is not too remote.
He soon returns with another guy,
I know his face, oh hello Steve I cry.
I was almost certain he lived close by,
as he sells wood carvings which I buy!
Lines to Awaken your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
*Chosen line - Whose woods these are I think I know - Robert Frost
02/27/20
There are no truly blue flowers.
No, not one.
Hydrangeas or tulips can be green,
an odd color for flowers, I think.
Brown ones are dead.
Brown and green are the colors of human eyes though,
and blue too, but that’s rare as eye color goes.
Almost everyone has two eyes, or at least one.
There are those whose eyes don’t work correctly,
and some unfortunate souls who have none at all.
Every pirate ever known had just one eye.
Yep, just one eye and a black patch.
(I may be wrong about this.)
There are cave creatures,
salamanders and roaches and fish,
that have no eyes at all, and live in total darkness;
evolution has done away with their eyes.
Why would they need eyes if there is no light,
not even that spectacular light from the sun
in fluorescent (which means “shining through”) ribbons
between clouds on stormy days?
There are other eyes too, on potatoes, certain fabrics, needles
(Each needle has one; there are no two-eyed needles that I know of.).
Personally, I have two eyes, both blue,
which see correctly only with assistance.
I often wish I had the third eye in the center of my forehead,
the one that symbolizes a state of
enlightenment, clairvoyance, out-of-body experiences.
However, I’m almost certain I won’t have one in this existence.
Perhaps I will in the next, assuming I’m not reincarnated as
a snake or, even worse, a dung beetle.
But then, I’ve been decent and reasonable most of this life,
so maybe I will have that third eye the next time around.
It’s worth thinking about.
Guarded and closed off, that's what he knows best
It just takes a noise to peak his interest
Don't bother to knock, 'cause he won't letcha in
Caution encloses the world he lives in
Four cats are his passion he keeps them well fed
But fear sends them running back under the bed
He's gone beyond trusting, I'll never know why
He's jumpy and nervous, alertness on high
Drawing the curtains, unplugging the phone
He's almost certain he's never alone
Peering out windows from behind the chair
'Cause he never knows what's lurking out there
He sees his newspaper out on the walk
Won't open the door or unlatch the lock
In this wary obsession, he can't help but feel
a need to distinguish the false from the real.
FarmerJohn took Tractor Weekly
Sat and avidly read it all
Even cut out tractor pictures
And hung them on his wall
FarmerJohn loved his tractor
Prized possession of his life
Some said he loved it more
Than He loved his darling wife
He would clean and polish it
Regard his reflection with pride
And John really enjoyed
His every tractor ride
Then one day it exploded Causing
Him much actual bodily harm
And Farmer John banned
Every single tractor from his farm,
He took his Tractors weekly
And burned them one and all
Even took down the pictures that
That had hung there in the hall
And Farmer John retired
With his darling wife,
Started to enjoy
His newly tractor free life
Took to his retirement
With the greatest of pleasure,
Took to taking the odd pint
Which he drank at his leisure
One day the pub was filled
With toxic fumes and smoke
A dangerous situation
Not in any way a joke
Standing there calmly
In the centre of the room
Farmer John slowly inhaled
Every bit of smoke and fume.
Then walking to the door
Slowly let it out with his breath
Thus saving many people from
An almost certain death.
How did you do that asked
One grateful surviving man
FarmerJohn ruefully replied
I’m an ex Tractor fan
I don’t remember every small detail
Some have been lost along the way
But the way you made me feel
From the first bit of time we spent together
There was just something about you
That made me feel some type of way
Something about you drew me in
And thru all the time that passes us by
I continued to find my way back to you
I don’t know how and I don't know why
But no matter where I ran to
From you I could not hide
And what I felt down deep inside
I could not deny
Believe me I tried
And yet you never did give up on me
No matter what is was I put you thru
You always stuck by my side
I've heard people say
If someone can be there for you at your worst
Then they don't deserve you at your best
Before you I never knew just how true that could be
But for whatever the reason
I'm glad you found your way to me
And even more that we made it thru all the storms
I know it's not over
Even though things seem to be so great
But I have faith that with you
There isn't anything we can't see each other thru
Together we have seen the best
And I'm almost certain the worst has already come and gone
So I have no doubts
That when it comes to you and me
We truly are meant to be
And together this world we can conquer
Hand in hand
Side by side
Always and Forever
You and me
We can do it together!!!
Of Life Unknown
Those nights simply vanishes along
A memory of her only remains now in dreams
In exchange, is of lonesomeness whence love begone
Alike some thoughts, taking upon stolen wings
Somehow time amazes me much still
Little by little, I’ve forgotten how to love her
Time, probably being the best medicine to heal
Else some passion isn’t that of comfort so dear
I needed some form of isolation I lack
As I remember those words which had drawn me some while ago
Pondering once again, was he a demon himself I’ve met?
Am I forsaken even by him, or must I await yet another morrow?
A shimmer to every passing hour remains
Awaiting in silence, yearning for company like never before
Yet, time is withering away like it never became
Beyond eternal realm, are you not to appear once more?
With the whelming silence echoing the night
Of shadows gracing the walls, seemingly much livelier than I
A moment to be, a moment enchanted of unearthly delights
I suddenly felt unnaturally calm, almost certain I could fly
“Am one not to know, of my presence you solemnly seek
Is not summon upon a wish, in turn, I am only to response if
tranquility will permit
Perhaps this engiven enlightenment might aid you to further understand
Where spirits travel lone, better wizen is simply through timeless when
I sense one’s awakening emotions of anguish withheld
Be in acceptance to embrace for one’s thought to be read well
Welcome that of which need not guidance to be heard
Surrender oneself wholesomely and answers will unveil through
unspoken words
Time and time again,
I feel I've reached the end,
A kind of deep dark hollow,
Which self-pity soon doth follow.
I feel like a piece of ****
Useless material , disposed seen fit.
So many stones I've left unturned,
So many bridges I shouldn't have burned,
What is the point of this thing called life?
All I see is pain and strife,
Though sometimes you feel you've dealt a good hand,
It always comes down, crushed in to sand.
I may not be the perfect person,
I've lived, and learned, and almost certain,
Somewhere in this crazy place,
Maybe here or outer space,
There's a reason to why were all here,
And when we get there I will cheer,
For we are only human, now pass me a beer .
The author hears a collective effort to fulfil his idea, and instantly realises that it is not quite what he had in mind, or even not at all, in some places. But realising the mediator's costs, he may admire it in somewhat contradicting way, just as the average person sometimes wholeheartedly supports the team that beats his idols. Upon a closer look it turns out that the dilemma known as the performer's mishap is not so contradictory even in its extreme incarnation. The author might ask himself whether, on this particular day, his music should really be played in this way, as if inviting his parent to admire his child's independence. I am almost certain that the author will not find an unequivocal answer to his question. From what the hell you've done here to oh well that is even more interesting in terms of dynamics the distance is short - it doesn't seem to me that these opposites can come together, but they don't seem extremely far apart either. What does the listener hears in sum? A moment of his life, or, if you like, a moment of his listening biography. Whether this experience will be remembered, whether it will be distinguishable among thousands of other experiences, seems obscured.
And it all shall come to fall
Falling for us all to never once see
As do silence shall whisper its hall
We enter where shadows never be
And we do not see ourselves for who we are
We only see to another to be someone alike
Mortal beings beyond Gods so far
Can I identify someone like me before my sight?
Lost to oneself but found by everyone else
Almost certain I'm leaving myself every bit of the way
Even memories were forgotten when so strongly I held
Did I once again unknowingly led myself astray?
Have I already come so far to begin again?
When so far I have come to have a need to start anew
Forgotten memories for never life to remain
Can I once again recall what it is like to once more feel?
And it falls with barely a whisper in my hall
Falling to remind me of the mortal I can only be
As I silently watch... I remember its singular fall
Falling upon shadows I shall never see
Late one night walking in rain-hit New York,
Full moon kept watch as I measured my way,
shops shut, such silence unknown to city,
world in grip of scary virus menace,
my ears were pricked to every eerie sound,
They told me of the psycho cat’s demise,
encounter kill with predator unknown,
my stiletto shoes break peace with their clicks,
soft prattle of foot steps behind me like,
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach,
Slowly I turn to confront my stalkers,
million eyes glitter in darkness of street,
dark brown hairy, big street rats of New York,
gnarl fierce as perhaps gnarled at psycho cat,
they ripped enemy to end his tale!
I knew the danger that I was faced with,
I reached into leather bag for weapons,
with prayer and courage I could summon,
lit my lighter and filled my mouth with wine,
blew a fountain, sprayed them shouting you swine!!!!!!!
Screaming and spraying the burning spirit,
mean rascals ran like they confronted devil,
So I escaped from almost certain death
thanks to cheap drink I carried in my bag,
The label I hide on the wine bottle,
inflammable mixture not fit to drink!
Suddenly screaming I wake up in bed,
sobbing next to my dear concerned husband,
have had enough of dreary pandemic,
this mask, isolation and long late walks,
if away for few months all should be fine,
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine!
Written 8/October/2020
‘Collaborate with me poetry’ contest
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
in bold lines Kim’s lines
10 syllables per line