Long Amiss Poems
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The same striking man, the same lush, green land,
cushioned and delighted her heart in sleep.
Her romantic dream of senses was most grand
unless repeated fears began their slow, dark creep;
drowning and stabbing frights would often expand.
She would then wake, shaken, and try to understand.
This consistent dream had always just been.
Each night, the familiar reel repeated
with new chapters unfolding now and then.
Six sweet, white roses were never deleted
and repeatedly appeared at her dream’s end -
always pure white of a love intense blend.
She touched the new, glossy travel brochure,
ran her fingers along the pictured tree,
reminding herself that she was quite sure
it was the same tree her sleeping eyes did see.
This tree of certain enchanting allure
is what urged on her travel towards tomorrow's tour.
**********************************************
The guide led her slowly to the charming tree.
Its presence moved her into a faint-type sway.
When her trance-like eyes finally broke free
they took in surrounding nature’s breathtaking array,
and paused at her dream recalled mound of clay
where six, white roses lay in a love intense display.
Visibly shaken, the guide sat her gently down.
Sitting, too, he began sharing an ancient tale.
“Centuries agone, the prince loved a poorly
maiden from town. Family, foes and doctrine bid
this love to fail. They eloped, cloaked by soft darkness
draped all around. He wore armor and his beauty wore
her plain gown.”
“They returned after six love-days of bliss.
Only hours back 'fore his true love vanished.
No sign, no clue, the prince sought all amiss
and threatened the guilty would be banished.
The prince finally found her in the sea’s mist
with stab wounds he would not ever dismiss.”
“He buried his love and also a spell in this clearing.
He left no marker but a white rose for each day
he and his wife had shared perfect, loving, pairing.
So sure his spell would bring her near with love revered,
he vowed to watch over her grave using spell's sway
and to join her within three moons after she appeared."
The guide asked, “how much longer do you plan to stay?”
She glowed, “I must linger at least three moons after today.”
So once again, with grim countenance, the ship sailed on with all bemoaning their woes
Till calm seas prevailed, with balmy sun, sweet zephyr song, they came to Helios' shores.
Helios, calm god of the day, smiled upon the lads, gave of his land free rein, but with a caveat-
Helios pride was his golden herd, indolent and fat,"Do what you will, but don't touch that"
Well, as was their wont, like a terrible refrain, full-weathered from woes and want, but yet unwise,
The crew, overcome by gluttonous greed, slaughtered a heifer, for raucous feast, not sacrifice.
Wild was Helios at this blatant deceit, with terrible curse, banished them all, to wander once again.
So with Helios' curse (and Neptune's help), the ship was tossed and soon lost, all crew were slain.
It was Odysseus alone who was alive, afloat on flotsam, floating about, with fervent wish of death
But sweet surcease was not his lot, more plight was his fate - his tryst was due with Charybdis yet.
Perhaps Scylla was a better bet, in it's slavering jaws a definite death, I think he'd rather have it
But caught he was in Charybdis' thrall, a vortex which ate him whole, and threw him out as spit.
Past the maelstrom's outer whirl was our hero tossed clinging to life's last hope, verily a straw
Floated, the wasted carricature of a man, denied of food and water, no sustenance he could draw.
But perchance the Gods smiled on him, wearied of their devious, puerile games going too long
Odysseus fell on land once more, where restored were life and limb, bewitched by Calypso's song.
Now Odysseus, all said and done, was a man vulnerable to worldly women's wanton wiles
And Calypso was full besot with our hero's lusty frame, his wit, his deeds and charming smiles.
For seven years did he taste bliss, ensconced in Calypso's arms with thought of home amiss
But one day, after seven years, did Caypso, with heavy heart, let him go on pleas of our Hermes.
From Calypso's isle did Odysseus sail on raft, through storm, as was now his habit, and came to Sceria
Where Nausicca, on Athena's urge, gave succor, till he sailed with Phaecians who had trade with Sumeria
The Phaecian ships soon landed Odysseus on fair Ithacan shores where Penelope had travail,
But my dear laddies, I must hie hence, for the Dawn is nigh, of Penelope and Suitors, is another tale.
Concluded
This is the bomb! Wait until you
Here you will read hear about the
Tick of tock of tick the clock is
Gone lawn the mow now show
The glow a phone it groans.
Then moans
Time it is almost to the hour now
The bombs have dropped the plot
Thickens and rots
Now what but WAIT! The gates
Are locked! Hot trot slots sure shots
Casinos we know get rich quick
Schemes we know. What the WORLDS!?
We have the pearls. Unfurl reload
The goal? Unload gun load here we
Go you know the GOLD! it has slivers
Of silver. I confess I digress. Do not
Be BOLD your blood can shed.
Though you might not Ever dream
But muse and know deep think
Contemplate visit a shrink yeah
Concentrate if you must do not
Trust all that you see but believe
Some dreams to be reality, which
You think you see, do not believe
Only some will dream the daze
Away figuring to think on, long.
Forward on to the path of what
You believe to be real. All of those
Fascinating fluctuating facts you
Think you have? hear is the deal.
It is not real. So I say hey how have
You not known this throne round
Golden glorious crown I have found
On sacred ground. I have found
I have found! I can here the echoes
Of the Tick tock tick the clock is
Here the block is bare. I ask why
And where and bone Crushing FEAR!
You are scared? You dare not be
FEIRCE? SPEAK your WORTH while
You are on this earth do your best
And confess your worst thirst. On
This sphere this here yeah! Do no
HARM here the WORD! you your
Selves be heard with freer there
Then the Sun flares it glares then burst the
Glint and flint a spark forlorn first
Gong the bell tolls something is
Wrong! So since nothing else Amiss.
First the munch of lunch. A brunch
Bunch bun. I fill my girth. It is TIME.
The clock chimes DO NO HARM!
The bombs fall blistering all.
Oh! DETINATION! DESTINATION!
Complete DEVASTATING Fluxlng
DESTRUCTION! frightening furious
Flames absorb everything Nothing!
Nothing! At all REMAINS the Whole
Hearted horror of HUMANITY!
AAAAH HAA the TREACHERY!
Those schemes the will that be.
The alarm to late. HUMANITY is
Gone tick of tock the clock has
Stopped. NOTHING NOTHING AT
ALL NOTHING! REMAINS!
REMAINS! REMAINS! REMAINS!
AT ALL REMAINS! REMAINS!... remains.
NOTHING!
where is the LOVE LOVE
LOVE?!!
Was this a dream? Became a
NIGHTMARE?
I want to make you laugh God
Have you ever laughed so hard that your belly hurts?
I want you to enjoy my poems because you deserve it God
God you know we earthlings always think we know what we are talking about
But a lot of times we have no inklings of what we debate about
We have a tiny idea of what we believe in
And we try to prove our point
But God, we only have just a little enlightenment
But we grab a hold of it and try to make it into a grand theory
God what about the time when we are so sure of what we are doing
That we begin to think that we are in control
Then boom - something goes amiss
And we call out to you “ help us”
And You come to our aid
So who is in control?
You
God , how about our belief in ourselves that we think we are so sufficient
That we think we can do all things
Make all things
Think of all things
-The grandeur of it all
We think we can make it all happen
In our systematic ways
We plan, organize, sketch out
Everything going down to the minute details
We have it going
But we forget that you are in charge of it
And we take the credit that you deserve
Like when we say we love you
But we don’t spend time with you
Or think about you
Or talk to you
Or show you
How many times God?
How many times we said that we will do that for you
But we put it off
We don’t have all the answers but we think we do
We don’t have any possessions but we think we have
We don’t know that
-the only possessions we have are stored up in heaven
We can accumulate them here on earth
To be stored by you
And You will show us how to get it
Do it, actualize it
You are the perfector
You will complete what you started in all of us
Organizer, Redeemer, Achiever
Accomplisher, Planner, Executor
You are all in all in us
Faithless, faithful, undecided
You are the Creator of us all
And you are forever faithful
Forever exalted and glorified
Forever Our All-Mighty, Absolute Being
Our Jehovah, Infinite Spirit, All-Knowing
Forever our Greatest King
Magnifier, Justifier, Amplifier
You are all
Oh, our Good Shepherd
We lift up your name
God you are
All
And here we thought we are all
That is my contribution for today
Hope you enjoy it
Will make you laugh more tomorrow
Love, your reserveless admirer
Insistent analyzer
Persistent assister, attainer, attempter
Forever love
-Yours
Setting: a cafe, chamonix, in hand a tea.
Across- a woman, seated, not seeing me.
Embarrassed I am,
that I, a questionable I,
like a lamb: 97 and 1 kilogram,
am engulfed by her,
like Noah by heavanly mer.
Can I help it?- No!
That this Helen
this doe
or maybe Annabel of Poe
has transfixed me so
No!
For she, unbeknowest to anyone but me,
has -- like a jockey to horse--
narrowed my vision, my every decision.
My goals, my independent roles,
are all now but foes
Dürers'crows
to that of this woman,
to that of this Syren;
A homeric vision calling my name,
my thoughts [set completely in frame].
For she is Femme French,
whose lip, whose tongue, whose
unequaled gaze,
melts hearts, muffles minds, and
spirits sets a daze;
She is a picture Romaine-
a poetic refrain-
a Cloud Loraine-
Tout l'univers(se), turning perverse-
all those once sane.
And when you, pardon- she
speaks; «please, more tea»
she, unknowingly, speaks to me,
wow, she trully speaks to me.
Votre langue francais,
what can I say.
We in the west, at our best
butcher and hack at our speach,
yet you- lyrically spue- a harmonious
coo,
a ventricular breech....
Our « (c)(h)(o)(c)(o)(l)(a)(t)(e), »
americanized, anglasized,
Is not as sweet as your---
« chocolat »--- taste that
mmmm-hmmm
tis better, the way you pronounce every letter
as in decrouver, or illuminer.
To think, that this, your verbal kiss,
turns me so amiss.
But lets ((focus))- back to the Now,
sitting in chair, starring at her hair-
tied back, pulled back, let's get abstract:
lips parted, bangs parted.
Her cheeks lifted- my heart uplifted.
Facial confusion!
Her eyes whisper, « mister, »
maybe sinister?
Who knows, maybeee... the nose!
Striking a pose-
Running, twitching, creating true woes-
in a heart that weeps, reeps, but rarely sows.
Now you can see what she does to me.
my mind is adrift, but who cares- What a Gift!
To be lost in her presence- a humble
peasant- in the present is a present.
So- I'm sitting in a chair,
staring, glaring, intimately at her,
seeking, searching, for our eyes to
meet, to greet, in lustful heat,
for her to return my gaze
and to be lost in that haze till the
end of my days....
But wait.... What is this.
Something is amiss.
A realization, a *****?
OH GOD....
I have a *****...
****. I'm just another creepy loner.
Form:
I was out walking my dragon, when I came across a Dogasaurus Rex.
It really wasn’t so bad until; they got into a real life-pissing contest.
My dragons’ roar was way less than his, and spitting fire, he couldn’t do.
So they squared off, eyes aglow, and yep, a true pissing contest did ensue.
Now, that was really icky, and flooded my neighbors whole lawn, ewww.
Well, it smelled awfully bad, but when they got going, what was I to do.
And a pooper-scooper does not work here, so I had to wait till both were thru.
If there wasn’t enough testosterone, now my neighbors’ was added, to the brew.
A mean old codger lived right there, and now, even he, was royally pissed.
Watering the lawn wouldn’t send it away; it would spread it more, amiss.
I ran to get my neighbor witch, who was laughing her head off, yes, indeed.
I’d need her help to save the yard, and with the old codger, to finally succeed.
The old codger amazed, started adding, held in, bubbling laughter, to the brew.
Seems he’s a lonely old man, with not enough fun added in his life, it’s true.
He tapped his foot, as his dogasaurus Rex did more, what was I to do, in truth?
I became worried, it would be the death of him, if he didn’t laugh out loud, forsooth.
I ask the dragon, to burn the yard, to save us all, but he just snickered more, thereon.
How, you ask, was I to extradite myself? I went home to put a fire retardant suit, on.
Coming back I kicked, the dragon in his butt, for always being so crazily, put upon.
That quickly brought his fire on me, as I took it into the middle of the yucky lawn.
With the taunting done, the icky stuff gone, the witch put the grass back, with great skill.
Then, the dragon started laughing, his butt off, while thinking I’d owe the witch’s bill.
Hah! He was incredulous, as I said; he’d do the witch’s bidding, till it was fulfilled.
Then, the silly dragon, down right cried, as I told him, the walkies, would now be nil!
But, Grandpa Troll intervened, with us both in timeout, again, facing across the lake.
And, the old codger, spent the rest of his life happy, entertaining the town, with our fate.
From then on, the dragon and dogasauraus, were seen everywhere, as great playmates.
And me, I always carry an umbrella, so Dragon can never rain on my parade…
He made them in a hurry, He made them in the night.
He had other things on His mind, and forgot to paint them white.
A woman planned to fix this error - she was a woman of notoriety.
She saw the problems that this mistake had caused in society.
She beckoned to her female counterparts, to help her if they can.
Medical practitioners and scientists, between them not one man.
Now to decide what colour this future race should be.
Lets not make them blue, they wont be happy.
If we make them green or yellow, they may be jealous or cowardly.
We cant make them black, else they will have to fight to be free.
They pondered. They cant be red, others will take their land.
All colours were suggested, white was rejected as being too bland.
It was decided by unanimous vote the next generation you see,
will be of a delightful purple hue and all the ladies did agree.
They toiled for years to create a race of purple people to inhabit the earth.
Purple mothers everywhere having purple babies when they gave birth.
By the time all humans were of the same colour, peace now reined.
Harmony befell upon the human race and no bigotry remained.
It seemed they had found the answer, but Utopia is hard to uphold.
Soon discontent and aggravation among the population did unfold.
It wasn't long before rebels demanded to be different and not the same.
People demanded a choice of rainbow colours which seemed a shame.
Unrest developed within the race and soon the movement grew.
People stated that they were tired of being all just the same purple hue.
They began to chant a ditty from the lesson learned from a story.
by a young writer named Mary Shelley who found fame and glory.
Everything seemed quite amiss,
And their chant went like this:
A ghostly apparition?
An ill-reputed disposition,
A legacy to educate?
For all to meditate.
His ghost may be heard.
Frankenstein utters this word.
Notorious as a creator,
Of the monster, nothing greater.
A total disappointment,
After its deployment.
He showed it no respect.
It was a victim of his neglect.
His health declined during his search.
He left his monster in the lurch.
His ghost will forever teach us.
The lesson is there to beseech us.
Leave nature to do the creating.
A ghostly message, with no debating.
A welcome sight the lights ahead - like misty globules on ink black foam
The billboard elicits a sense of foreboding - Welcome to the Midnight Bazaar
A lack luster moon adds to the mystery – nervously I enter to ask my way home
A familiar song plays in the somewhere, the name eludes me - how bizarre
Somberly dressed people scurry past- eyes focused on illuminated screens
Refusing contact, shoving past rudely as I ask where this place would be
One of them in riddles tells me - this is home - the place to be it seems
I wonder if the scales of reality have tipped in favor of insanity
A stall arouses my curiosity and I look as a butcher of sorts places
Bleeding hearts getting desired effect - starts a pushing jostling frenzy
Uninterested in the clowns on stilts with their painted morbid faces
Children walk with sullen looks - expressionless eyes that fail to see
Crowds clamor to buy sea food - how absurd - especially as a smell of decay prevails
Fresh produce on sale with dyed color bleeding and truffles of mud is there something amiss
A man wanders around with passports on offer - Buy yourself a Life - his sign displays
Relief at last - a stall with books and maps – here is my escape from this tainted Abyss
This God forsaken place is not where I wish to stay
And I must strive to leave it before the light of day
An exorbitant sum I pay eager to escape his cloying breath, his black toothed smile
A commotion at the far end - some sort of bidding - curiously I venture courage giving me wings
A sign proclaims ‘Souls For Sale’- in rage I scream ‘you cannot sell souls - This is so Vile ‘
Dark soulless eyes in chalk white faces – Bore right through me – Look right through me
I run screaming, falling, clawing the map that shows all roads lead back to this Hell - I scream
Waking myself - knowing the name of that song still in my head - Shaking from this macabre dream
Footnote:
This was not meant to be a pretty poem. It exaggerates the state of a world that has seemingly lost its focus and empathy. Let's not let this happen
Take a bit of Dean Kontz, Stephen King and the unnatural things going on with food enhancements and you have the stage set for a macabre nightmare!
Your presence AMISS
From this soft gentle hand
There is only permanent space
Where once I could feel and caress your polite face
I am alone in this Room,typing away a Sad little piece
When we were LIKE THAT(my fingers snapping)
The Bond was there and real for comfort
You brought the Poet out into the light to shine
Every little verse became magical yet true
When THE POET wrote of life..he meant it for you
There were days that I felt like an ugly duckling
WHO WOULD EVER WANT TO BE SEEN WITH ME
This part reached out to me because it was from your heart
Sunshine and the wind blessed our selves
Autumn bowed to applause
JUST BECAUSE..
we knew what we had that others,unfortunately,had not
Moments,between the Sun(Rising forth and Lying back)
Your entire body kept me warm from the night breeze
Silhouette and Gold
5ft five inches that told
The entire Novel of your life,in kisses with a silent scent
As suddenly as you leaped into my life
The next instance,there was nothing more
I am alone.CRYING on this hill
Season is changing but without YOU now AMISS!!
Form:
He never thought; tho skilled in the art,
how anyone could understand.
And so he kept his wayward heart,
hidden in the palm of his hand.
Going back to a lonely bed,
not comforted by the clock.
The tormented life that he had led,
a mind that raced nonstop.
I have seen this; in my mind,
the tossing and turning each night.
Waiting for some open heart's sign,
with promise to feel the light.
So; he trudged thru weary days,
struggling to breathe.
Not knowing peace; but confusing ways,
deciding not to believe.
She always dreamed; tho not out loud,
of that special kiss.
Every time she sang for crowds,
something was amiss.
The social life that she had known,
was coming to an end.
And every night she slept alone,
needing more than a friend.
I have watched this; I have prayed,
trying to help her believe.
As she struggled to just stay brave,
wearing her heart on her sleeve.
So; she worked faithfully,
to keep the wolf from the door.
Not having much security,
but she knew there had to be more.
One day she met this stranger;
his merriment sprinkled with glee.
But in his pretty eyes she saw danger,
and whispered,"what's happening to me?"
From here on out she couldn't turn aside;
not that she even wanted to,
her feelings could not be denied,
she had to think this through.
Meanwhile; his heart was enraptured,
though he never said a word.
Her cute little smile; his lost soul captured,
others thought this absurd.
She brought him chips; a coke, and seemed
to just always be there.
They felt like they had met in a dream,
they had so much to share.
So; by and by through much duress,
their secret could keep, no longer
Late one night,they had to confess,
together they were stronger.
And now their days are blue skies;
for sweet love they have found,
and she is lost inside blue eyes,
and forever he, in brown.
"Happy Anniversary"
to 2 people who HAVE FOUND the magic..
I LOVE YOU BOTH FOREVER...
Mom