Long Amicably Poems
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It is that time of the year
When everybody comes out of their fears
Every Soul is enjoying this phase
For weather is too good these days
After the freezing winters
That sucked last drop of blood from every Splinter
Gale is no longer gale
It has become a pleasant Breeze
So good it feels when it touches your skin
A bit cold but delightful like a cozy inn
You close your eyes and you feel
As if Wind is penetrating in your veins
Substituting all worries
With a glint of warm fuzzies
Sky too is dark blue these days
Stars emit more brighter rays
Moon looks bigger and more bewitching
Driving you crazy and do unhitching
Long walks under the moon
And enjoying solitude’s tune
Along with shadows of the trees
And sweet, sweet sound of the Breeze
when it is awakening the leaves
From their tiresome winter sleep
How amicably the World walks and sings
While paving ways for the Spring
Can you feel it??
(Paghunda Zahid)
She was selfish, bad mouthed, fighting with him endlessly
He tolerated it patiently after all she was his wife, his duty
She insisted on a kid, he thought maybe that will change her
His child was cute looked just like him, he was overjoyed
She had gone to her mother's place for delivery, refused to came back
He kept calling her, asking forgiveness for things not done
Letter after letter pleading again and again
He missed his son, he couldn't leave him with someone as bad as her
He spent many sleepless nights thinking of his wife and son
She finally agreed but laid some atrocious conditions
Standing in front of a sea he reflected on them
He thought even if he agreed they wouldn't live amicably
It will bear upon his own son
He made a paper boat
Wrote her name on a piece of paper
kept it on the boat
Placed the boat on water and watched it float
She was gone from his life forever
After divorce one day he went to see his son
When his own son called him uncle he was heartbroken
Date: 1/7/2021
Life is full of oddities
Which can give it variety
And every now and then
Even cause soe anxiety
He was a man of character.
He trod his own path,
Kept his undies in the fridge
And his coal in the bath.
When she moved in she,d
Found that rather strange
But she hoped in time
She could help him change.
Her background after all
Wasn’t all that posh
She could just about manage
With her weekly strip wash.
And every other month
He’d clear a path from the door
As he shovelled all the coal
Onto to the bathroom floor,
And he very quickly learned
Rinsing the bath was a must
Otherwise her bath water was
Full of floating coal dust
And so they’d proceded amicably
Until things got a rather strained
She’d tripped on a lump of coal,
One ankle being badly sprained.
But, theres always compromise
If you’re willing and you”re able
And he started storing the coal
Under their kitchen table.
He found it rather strange
That she now bathed every day
But finally accepted that
It was her own peculiar way
And he so very quickly went,
And changed his own attitude
When night after night, after night
She eagerly displayed her gratitude.
Thus they progressd to
A happy happy life
And very soon after he
Took her to be his wife.
The moral of this little tale
You can walk your own path
But if you want to please your bird
Dont keep your coal in the bath.
now there are no battle of wills
now there are no feeble attempts to spotlight and emphasize
now there are no empty benefits that result in crystalline nothingness
now there is just us....pure and simple....back to cool via the agreement
we now take it light and watch the nightingale go crazy until death kicks down his door
we now wait to take flight for a few last hurrahs before we amicably part ways
the rain has now come yet so we kiss the unseen rainbow and return back to golden
the rain has not come yet so we have a few laughs while preparing ourselves secretly in our respective minds
now there are no accusations and unneeded advice
now there are no pillows thrown on the doghouse sofa for the effect of showing power
now there are no second chances left for we will soon pack our bookmarks and exit....stage right....
I’ve been feeling like a stranger in my skin.
The last thing I remember is an argument with that jerk, inner critic.
We both went to bed with many words left unsaid.
The next day to my regret, it woke up earlier than me.
I guess peace couldn’t stand its company.
Started off with an earful of negativity.
Of course, it was about who I could never be.
Because I have only one worth, for you to destroy me.
And why this rant so early?
Oh, yeah all because I wanted to sleep in past 417.
You called me lazy.
Said the greats never sleep.
Critic, you couldn’t pick a more convenient time to be a dick to me?
Yeah, this sounds about right.
All You ever do is wake me up, or keep me up at night.
Just to tear down the parts of me, that are starting to feel alright.
Nothing positive, nope not from you or I.
Only ruminating thoughts of yours, that I do not claim as mine.
Always only about how much I suck.
Yet you never can give me a real reason why.
Also, please come up with better lines.
I’m tired of taking your words for mine.
We are literally in the same body, you and I.
You do realize if I quit, we both die?
Is that what you want ?
Just tell me why.
I am the only brain, and you are only in my mind.
So why can't your message project positivity instead of that, sermon critic preaches in your head?
They both support a stream of energy, only one is better equipped for success.
While the other keeps you reliant on trauma, your critic won't let you forget.
So how can we evict that squatter from our mind, from our head?
We can't, it’s forever.
But tools to live amicably together well, those shouldn’t be hard to find.
First things first, I’m Sierra and this skin sacks mine.
Reclaiming and taking control over my life! Deleting one little lie at a time.
One orb and only one shines on in life
You are much warmer than the morning sun
Remember the volcanoes at Tenerife
Canary Islands paradise adrift in fun
Hanging there upon a limb of golden time
We conjure elements of joy forever
What favors in the mind recall unwinds
When in our orbits moon pulls down its lever
But there within the walls of love light sealed
The glow of life can’t hide inside forever
There in the wicked world concealed, revealed
That Winter breaks for kinder weather
My love with sun and moon gathered family
Their fortunes shine on together amicably
Entered Poetry contest: Winter Wonderland - sponsored by Emile Pinet on 12/27/18
*"A tribute to "Pops" (Joe), (04/23/31-01/20/24) though what pans below mirrored life in the States for me, not Pops, but for two years at The Home before he passed, I'd drank tea cause he's unable to have strong or spicy etc. Once a month, though the last few months I drank alone. It was something that he shared, for you Pops." ... by Poet
'Twas a relatively crispiness in the clambering yawn,
a consortium of sorts setting up right across the lawn,
as duskiness drew up her covers relinquishing the day,
embossed intricately recently polished grace silver tray,
atop bears a quaint setting of Old Country Royal Alberts,
ah, yes, tea cups, dually statured and ushering desserts,
if you would please pour just a cup for me, for as you can see,
my 'friend's asleep at the wheel, engine's off, eve doesn't agree,
a host to vividness terms of circumstance circulated,
guesswork nature that entertains the uncoordinated,
the fumbling hands placed to the left or right be it a catchphrase,
a righteous smile of approval amicably gifts it weighs,
astir Pekoe, instants an intrusive bay fronts pleasantries,
prompts us of our intimacy adds value to home's sea breeze,
a nose full of redolent tea defines memories of us,
of times he drove us to school, then to doctors, still drives the bus,
a nodding gesture non flirtatious enthusiasm rises,
occasions an exceeding specialized intrigue comprises,
be a tea for two, Broadway Avenue, a smothered venue,
food cart with mixed tarts, lined signs of sweet kinds, beseeches of you,
I and my friend, who sleeps now and then, had two cups of Pekoe,
tea for my friend, it's not Pekoe, health-bot boy, it's Almond Joy,
'tis a pleasure, airs like a loon, trends sans measure, depth crescent moon,
he won't mind, he's sleeping--are you sure, yes, we're having friends soon,
they're here, ambulance? send them here--no rush, their skills aren't needed.
He felt his life poor--driving, "Pops, we made it--you succeeded."
Feeling like a lost soul I sit, as the train rocks me to and fro
the woman next to me is jovial and pleasant, with a glow
We chat and pass the hours sharing amicably without restraint
then she tells me she is heading for London to marry, oh how quaint
Perhaps your marriage will be blessed from heaven? this I say
as the gentlemen across from me smiles, cool as the month of May
I can see from his polished shoes and his gray fedora hat
that he's a man of well to do, much accustomed to small pratt
Later in the evening as I sip my tea with clotted cream
I notice how he stares at me, as if I were a dream
Feeling lonely and quiet daring I invite him to sit down
it is then that I do notice, that his eyes are chestnut brown
"Going to London to visit my grandma" I say, "she lives by the sea"
"I can escort you Mademoiselle," he says, then tips his hat at me.
Chose # 3 a passenger on a train
Dear Sisters, because we are one
in that we share our DNA,
I put you all together as the “You,” that I love.
I love you for the fact that we all were raised together,
facing every turbulent event in our mother’s younger years:
the days she suffered with a mentally ill husband -
the father we adored who did not know how to love us back.
Together we played in our own private world,
comforting each other as our mother weathered storms
which eventually caused her to flee back to her home in the Midwest.
I recall our days on our grandparents’ farm -
the walks along the lane bordered by raspberry bushes
where we filled our pails eagerly with berries,
arriving home with red berry faces!
The games we played, the way we raced
through Grandpa’s corn fields, discovering
secret meadows and streams.
I recall the days when we moved with our mother to town.
How we walked everywhere we went without a car:
the walks in frigid temperature, the walks holding bags of groceries
and getting lost sometimes as we accustomed ourselves
to our route to school.
I remember playing at the pool, swinging on swings
at parks and playing all the time with each other
and the friends we included as our social circle grew.
The day our mom remarried, we welcomed new children
into our circle of friendship, but nothing compares to
the original sisters, the ones who came from our mother’s womb.
Today we are all different in many little ways,
and yet we are also (in so many ways) the same!
The way we chortle or use our hands to gesture:
I see our mother in those things.
The way we talk and talk and talk.
Endless conversations, squabbles (which always end amicably),
and that deep understanding in each other’s eyes.
In your eyes, I see my mother and I see myself.
You, my sweet sisters, are the love of my life!
March 8, 2023
For the "For You, Love" Contest of Regina McIntosh
When you are in love
When you captured my sight I heard a song
Evoking a symphony of feelings quite strong
As cadence of quest reached deep in my heart
Urging in your embrace for the music to start.
We exchanged affection without a spoken word
Falling in love imminently as emotions stirred,
When rhythm of hearts made a passionate claim
As your mature frame seduced my budding flame.
Though you warned me with an adorable plea
I never considered age when I set myself free,
For you adorned me with a grace of sapience
Comforting in intellect derived from experience.
And you bestowed upon me a life of relevance
Ornate in the virtues of brilliant significance,
Treating me like a queen of ardent dream,
Adoring me as if I'm the source of your gleam.
When we encountered a hint of dissonance
You rallied to my aid to console my innocence,
As maven hands ably shaped our relationship
Reveling how amicably you steered our ship.
First time we met, I knew we were meant to be,
Since then it has been a life full of joyous spree,
For age doesn't matter when love writes the lyric
As passion resonates sound of angelic music.
December 11, 2017
Age doesn't matter when you're in love
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
First Place