Long Blue green Poems

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Premium Member The World of Expectations Words

The world of Expectations

Expectations, do – in all likelihood – become frustrations.
They, in their painful anger, do become manipulations,
of both – both the aching heart and the fragile soul
and of the one’s you seem to want to know
and would prefer to show.

So, what one must do , is set them free, let them go
so that the seeds, one needs, in order to sow,
might have a chance – into something – grow.
Expectations, therefore laden the load, hamper creation,
making for uncertainties and difficulties in any situation.

WORDS

Words fly upon gossamer wings of invisible angles,
from sources of universal / internal, unseen energy,
to and through the fragile tips of my crystalline,
clear fingers, like specks of light, fireflies
out of the darkness of my mind, to light up,
- in shades of gray or rainbow colours, bright -
the empty spaces that wait to be filled.
Those pieces, - eight and a half by eleven – of paper,
pages I write, - for the sight of others – of shadows
that are cast upon the retinas of the minds that look,
upon, read, see, understand the essence of this old man.

Dawning of this day has come to us in untarnished,
Salvador Dalí, blues, chaperoned by a blinding glow
– that bright, life sustaining, golden orb radiating down –
giving light to this early mornings life, life in this tiny,
portion of this great blue planet – my multi coloured tomb,
my four cornered room, where loony size orbs , of violet,
indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red orbit, slither,
– in their cloak of rainbow colours – these coloured comets,
their tails streaking  across, upon, all-around an ocean
of material objects, objects of historical value,
objects – a visual representations of , pages of my history
basking in the light of beautifully coloured flakes of rainbows,
drifting, rainbow specks, coloured splotches splashed across
the eggshell white bars of this prison I sometimes inhabit,
this tiny little universe washed in history and colours.

This beautifully coloured day was brought to me by crystals,
chipped at – pieces cut away by the hands of artisans –
by the hand of man to allow light – white and clear –
to be refracted, reflecting, releasing to sight, that which
the human eye is unable to comprehend, to see.
Rainbows filled my day – too bad they could not stay.
Then again, that would be asking to much, isn’t that the way ?

B. J. “A ” 2
October 27th 2002


Visions and Wonders

Your laughter’s echoes are like a broken record in my hysterical brain
I misplaced my journey-like notebook, written in pen and pencil prudently and sincerely
Solace sunrays are embedded in your blue-green eyes and it’s driving me insane
Change is a challenging chore, but as someone once told me, “No one ever stops progressing, but it’s your job to improve frankly!”

Confined to this Depression wars, I feel like I’m frozen forever in his ribcage
Don’t accuse me for committing atrocious felonies – my intentions don’t lean on greed
I love God’s Wonderful deeds indeed! I loathe this fast-paced world, especially in this day of age, sponging up avarice and rage
Be careful what you watch, say, touch, hear, and taste – nourish your family seed

Visions of unforeseen, unforced miracles is a memory I hold dear honestly
I recall years spent on pondering about the tragedy in this fast-paced world and its many crimes
You scan my verses as if it’s a short story, catching your sheer curiosity
You have read me several times like a children’s book with silly Mother Goose Rhymes

I resemble shrouds of misfortune for cat’s sake...Now, am I worthy to be compared to a children’s tale? Am I the cause of the world’s calamity? 
The dusk has dawned upon me…unearth the mysteries in the hollow, tacky atmosphere
Man’s plans were destined to be a fail from the beginning of time – why’s my heart thumping with pride and vanity?
Why should I rely on Man when I have God by my side? He’s the one and only that makes me have tears of hope, not frantic fear!

I’ve seen his wonders, so imperishable! I’m a witness to God’s phenomenal, faultless Work!
Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror? Let’s face it – we’re all playing roles in this world’s tragedy!
Why are you throwing the blame on me? You resemble an irrational jerk!
I can’t bear being that individual who speaks his mind deliberately – I’m not acting immature! Straighten up your mind; stop acting so silly!

~!@#$%^&*())(*&^%$#@!~

Inspired by Jake Ponce’s poem: Ephemeral and the verse (entitled: The Key To My Heart) written by Jan Allison! Check both poems out and you’ll be amazed and it feels as if you’re placed in their shoes. It’s remarkable. Do look them up and read their works. You won’t regret it. 
^Written by David William Breidenthal^ 
***Date this was written: Thursday, May 29, 2014***
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stained Glass Pane

One day—
The sea will be my backyard
Every morning, standing upon the deck
Of the one called Going Numb
A “Greatest Dad” mug in one hand
My last vice burning orange in the other

I will watch the sun rise like the formidable Phoenix
Warming the blue green sea with her touch
As tender fingers of a salty breeze
Run through my silvery hair

A time worn wharf will serve as my threshold
Warped planks and crusted pilings 
Proffering a story of victories against the storms of sea
Aromas of fish and diesel oil
Making promises of resilience yet seen

Seagulls as nameless neighbors
Charmingly silent until beckoned
By day old bread and salty crackers
Perched upon the strakes of the Going Numb
Black eyes praising me as they wait
To devour the next gratis morsel

A galley will greet any wingless visitors
Who happen by
Barstools for three, plus me
Wait obediently before the coffee-stained counter
A toaster and tea kettle from yesteryear
A hidden bottle of rum
Is all this old man will need

With but a few steps, travel with me astern
Over the worn colorless carpet
Past the curtain of puka shells
Hung by stranger before I knew her
A sturdy cot with too many pillows
Serves as my nighttime rest
Where the sea’s gentle waves
Lull away loneliness
And Adele whispers love songs to my soul

Between the galley and my humble nest
A room where I attempt to do my best
A small writing table with pad and pencil
A beige shaded lamp provides the rest

Nostalgic bookshelves of cinder blocks and planks
Against the portside wall
A stage for those who have inspired—
Hemingway, Atwood, Tolkien, and Plath
King James and Lewis as bookends
Hold it all together

Three windows each, port and starboard
To look out
Or in
One with an untold story
I will never know
Or tell

A stained-glass pane
Cracked and old
Beauty in a way
That will never be told
By prose or poem or
By me

One day—
A new chapter in my life will come
Closing the pages of before
My purpose complete
Children grown
Now with ones to call their own
Having moved from a time of needing
To the days of occasionally calling
The old man on the sea
One day—
I will stand alone
On the deck
Of my new home
With seagulls as chaperones
And briny air in my lungs
I will watch the sunset
Through stained-glass pain
© Jim Hirtle  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Caring Bridge

The caring bridge was very unexpected 
why I'd survived a horrific traumatic 
brain injury an yet my mind was desperate 
to learn everything all over I was so 
excited when I noticed my flaws while 
holding a fork at my favorite restaurant 
I forgot how to hold a fork I was so 
embarrassed finally I got it what an 

achievement I hoped no one saw 
as I lifted the mashed potatoes to 
enter my mouth to my surprise I 
kelp missing my mouth hitting my 
cheek my eyes were wide I knew 
everyone knows my flaw now my 
cheek covered in mash potatoes 
it was in that moment I knew I had 

to reach out find my peers people 
like me broken injured filled with 
faith and there it was a bridge 
connecting family of all ages 
races cultures traumatic brain 
injury groups many spoke of 
loved ones still in a coma hopeful 
that they would spring forward 

traumatic brain injury changes 
you forever I never thought I would 
forget to tie my shoe now my 
beautiful children whom I taught 
to tie thier shoes was now teaching 
me take the loop around ma you 
got it good job what color is this 
ma it was purple it hurt my brain 

I could only recognize yellow red 
blue green primary colors nothing 
as fancy as teal my favorite or 
maroon these colors sent my 
emotions soaring and it frightened 
me that's okay ma we can try again 
tomorrow brain injury affects the 
entire family I was so happy to be 

apart of the Caring Bridge family 
hearing others speak out about 
tragedy survivors faith courage 
relearning excepting fighting 
to keep my brain alive i wrote 
uncontrollably constantly at 
least ten poems a day maybe 
yes my grammer was off missed 

spelled words poems broken 
sentences i would cry I realized 
I was three years old pouting 
sobbing coping with pain when 
I reached out it was so amazing 
a bridge of compassion kindness 
finally that caring bridge connected 
across America a caring bridge 

of hands reaching out giving 
supporting sharing caring amazing 
generating lot's of hugs with simple
kind words completeness feeling safe
unafraid unashamed to be broken learing 
to smile again laugh at your flaws and 
get right back up embracing comfort 
and joy that built this unstoppable 
caring bridge connecting healing 
hearts and minds by just caring
Form: Naat

The Game of Drive Troy Crazy

Never stop even when i say i said
when i signed up
and no matter what 
never give me my money back
oh boy do i ever miss my lazy boy and couch now

Just how far would one boy go to proove to his social class
grade seven that yes indeed we live
in a dictatorship
and free democracy is the same thing
thus the fad i am 

the game i have become
mainstream which cannot be lost
cannot be won
the game of drive troy crazy

Some play as though they need to disagree with everything i do and say
some play as though they have to thwart my every attempt at love
some play as though there is a prize to be won and they win it and im not allowed 
to ever win
some play as though they must make sure i fail at everything
oh the drama and how my life is a show
and no one must tell me 
say it isnt so

prove to me im not god i say
yellow blue green
orange yellow black
and start again in the fashion idustry pof pink plaids and ducky yellows
sing to me my names of games for i am your ultimate weapon of psychology and 
god
going to the mental institute to prove they are brainwashed not crazy
and the jig is truly up
did hitler really lose the war
and has the tricked message been sent 
or am i fooling myself?

or should i sit here and cry wolf as the papparazzi in control of the propoganda
threatens the psyxchiatrists
and ths the game of drive troy crazy must go on
andf the boot camp torture nightmare goes on forever

YES YOU FOOLS
i know exactly what i am
and i am proud to have made it this far
to round four


some mess with my head as if they can hear my thoughts
everything bad happens to my friends
and my enemies are all well off
but oh what a wonderfull object to crave i have become as i scream and beg and 
plead on the internet for amnesty
that even mensa geniuses cant figure out
for the game of drive Troy crazy is far too much fun!!!!

so now the tables have turned
and youre eventually going to realise who i am 
and what wolves are circling around me
and the nonexistant crimescenes i point at
welcome back to level on eof how we can all belong
of drive troy crazy
and prove to him he isnt god
and no there is nothing there in the spelling mistakes written in english jibberish
but perhaps piglattin japanese if you were smart enough to figure that one out


Premium Member Divine Appointment

There lies before me a portrait most captivating and divine.                                                                                                   I am arrested by it, and the very site of it is spiritually penetrating.
Were I asked, "What say ye?", perhaps I would be awestruck and silent.

I tell you, when I gaze upon that portrait of a beautiful open sky, 'to me it looks like God!' I SEE a head protruding up and outward, signaling to all humanity an infinite pathway to eternity.
I SEE no darkness of night nor light of day.                                                                                                                               And I SEE no clouds nor shadows of grey.

I SEE the right shoulder with the hand reaching out.                                                                                                    I SEE the left hand extended toward the stars of lights,
so divinely picturesque in colors of blue, green, red, and purple.                                                                                        I SEE an open sky filled with an immense array of stars alive and bright 
with a few larger ones that sparkle to cast an even greater display of color and light.                                                                                                      

That imposing image mentioned above appears to be introducing an even larger and awesome figure that speaks to me like a "John The Baptist" heralding the way for a greater one than he-The Christ of God.  I SEE this Presence filling everything with its immeasurable reaches.  I SEE, and it's rather interesting to me, two figures standing in a vast domain of light unencumbered by colors of any kind.                                               

Presently, I SEE no wrath of falling stars of destruction.  I SEE no folded arms speaking 'No Admittance" but all arms opened wide for all to see and draw near.  I SEE a smiley face from one longing to embrace long lost sons and daughters.  I SEE no angry face but standing stars of grace, love, and mercy, waiting and pleading for us mortals to pause, be still, be healed, be changed, and experience lasting renewal.  I SEE.........!
21219PoSoupContest, Tell Me, What Do You See, James Edward Lee, Sr.; 1P

An Ode To the Lands I Call Home

Sitting here at my desk
Two hundred meters above
I watch the bustle of life below.
The slow moving traffic, the crowd at lunch-time
Pedestrians at the traffic lights
Heavy blue-black glass blocks towering to the skies.
 
In this austere concrete jungle.
A few patches of green in-between asphalt ones
A blue gum tree here and an ashen eucalyptus there
At the corner of the street.
 
My thoughts flee from this stifling claustrophobia
Thousands of miles away.
To the sugar sands where once we walked
In the warmth of an ever-summer sun.
 
Blue-green waves tumbling with unrestrained energy
Shores framed by coconut palms dense green
Stretching in an unbroken line to the horizon.
Cries of the seagulls mingle
With the deafening roar of the waves.
 
The shells were still white-foam laced
When we picked them from the wet sand.
Salty breeze carrying our laughter away
As we watched the fishing canoes come in
Riding on the waves.
 
Remember when we walked through
Golden paddy fields of ripening grain.
To sit under the ancient banyan tree by the river
Watching the canoes slide past
Carrying coir and spices from villages afar.
Trekking up mountain-paths
And down lush tea slopes.
We gathered wild jasmines and gooseberries
And sat by gurgling streams listening
To the cow herd's flute in the distance.
 
Returning at the peep of stars
We stood by the gate
Under the deep blue velvet folds of the sky
Listening to the rhythmic clanging of heavy chains
As the local saw mill elephant
Passes on her way back from the woods.
 
The air is heavy with the scent of gardenias
Only the chirping of crickets, the hum of mosquitoes
And the gentle brushing of palm leaves
Breaking the cool stillness of the night.
 
And, I return to the vast plains of this southern land.
Breezes that blow unchecked
From coast to coast
Over blue mountain ranges
And great red monoliths
And the sun at its mightiest here.
 
Unique life forms, sweet smelling gum trees,
Picturesque shores that line the coasts.
Countryside stretching to the horizon
In the flattest continent of the world.
 
Special this land in every way
Its beauty and curiousness of life.
The land I have come to love
The place I now call home.
Form: Ode

Her First Homicide- Part Two

I tried to stand by my only love, I tried to understand until
The morning I stumbled in to find another woman beneath your covers.
It was the day I couldn’t believe my ignorance because I now saw
That when I threw drugs into you, you were just like my mother.

I told you that and your face paled at the ice in my words.
I turned away as you stood up, proving to me what you’d done.
At that moment I was so torn apart, and angry
Livid that I could have been so stupid to think you weren’t like everyone.

I left you naked and pleading. I refused to answer any of your calls
I tried to pick up the pieces of the girl you left broken.
I tried to pretend you were gone till I heard your voice on the machine
It had been weeks since we had spoken.

I’ll always hear your voice in my nightmares, begging me
Soft at first, then screaming, asking why I won’t take your call.
I listened to four messages, before you said you were ending your life
And I heard you smash the telephone against the wall.

I called you but I kept getting busy signals, so I left my house.
I ran all the way to your building, and slowed as I approached your open door.
I pushed it the rest of the way open to see you lying on your stomach
When I ran to you, I saw the needle on the floor.

When I rolled you over, your blue green eyes were lifeless.
I clung to you, screaming, Asking God is their any end to my pain?
I’ve never known sorrow that could compare with holding you Corey.
If it was okay for people like me to poison everything, hell and earth are the same.

I closed his eyelids with my fingertips, and gently kissed his cheek.
This would be the first man that I murdered with my disease.
I arranged his beautiful hair around him, I hadn’t noticed I was still screaming
Until I looked up to find my self surrounded my police.

They tore me off him, he was swarmed with paramedics.
They questioned my presence, all I could whisper was suicide.
His family was there now, his sisters and mother.
When they asked me why I was there, for them I lied.

I have to live with the guilt, of it being my fault forever.
You’re still some of my best and worst dreams.
I gave you my innocense, my heart, and part of my soul
The biggest part of me died with you when I was thirteen.
Form:

...Collaboration of Inspiration-Stevie Nicks Dedication

...so to the red rose grows the passion in the Enchanted Gate and Garden there 
Whenever you call me friend and I believe I've come to understand that I'm the 
Kind of woman with for whom you don't blame for having a Wild heart but you 
know that you can always Talk to me you can set your secrets free you have given 
me your Leather and you have taken from me my Lace I am stronger than you 
know it all comes down to you lighting strikes maybe once maybe twice and you  
see your Gyspy but  you have to Stop draggin' my heart around because baby you 
could never look me in the eye and say you didn't love me you buckled with the 
weight of the words and looking at Rhiannon who is like a cat in the dark and 
then she is the darkness and knowing that even in Dreams when the rain 
washes you clean Sometimes it's a witch and no matter what they say Love's a 
hard game to play you may need to Stand back in the middle of my room my 
Bella Donna riding high a top her pony cause not everyone has Crystal visions 
nor will everyone with their capes pulled around them tight cry for the Nightbird 
some will see their refection in the snow covered hills until the Landslide brings 
them down and even the Gold dust woman with her heartless challenge will pick 
her path and for her we pray although on the Edge of seventeen things may Rock 
a little and sadly enough Some will become strangers you will always have My 
heart I never again want to Fall from grace even if time cast a spell on you never 
will you forget me and in years past I tried to love you before but you would not let 
me I am ready now to be your Silver spring blue green colors flashing and yes 
I'm Strong enough remember I'm your Beauty and you are my Beast poet priest of 
nothing Has anyone ever written anything for you in all your darkest hours did you 
ever hear me sing listen to me now I sing for the things money can't buy me and 
long After the glitter fades I will still be here you said If anyone falls in love it will 
be done to us most of all I have to know when I can see you again because I 
can't wait yes I know you though we've been out of touch...

...this is a collaboration of written words inspired by
Stevie Nicks...

Death of Zhentiah Siatchier

"Please don't cry,"
I said...
"I want to be there to wipe your tears away, put them aside
and make everything better, think of some happy thoughts
and make you smile and laugh like no one is even watching 
and hope for the best tomorrow."

"I feel like something is wrong."
he said.

"Would that something wrong to you be talking to someone who is younger than 
you, but understands you completely...always listens to you,
and would always want to be there for you when you need a shoulder to
lean on?"
He sat there quietly and motionless... his face so still, the amazing
jaw lines so accurate, his face as smooth as a roses petles, his eyes...
as blue green as the tropical oceans. This boy made me speachless.
Finally, he moved lips to speak,

"No no... it's nothing like that at all.. it's just... I feel like I need to be with you every 
moment, every day... and I don't know how to let go of that feeling...
I don't want to let go of that feeling... because well, I love you. I always have."

As shocked as I was, I wasn't going to keep him waiting there feeling like an idiot
because I won't say anything...

"Wow, I.. never knew you felt that way about me, its actually shocking...
Zhentiah, I love you too.. but... your like a brother to me and it would
be intensely awkward to date someone or love someone so strongly that you've
known since you were ten.. Im sorry, I do love you.. I really do."

The hurt in his face made me hate myself for what I said, but living my whole
life knowing that what I was going to say was a lie... no, I couldn't bare that thought.
Few days after that night, I got a phone call from the police reporting to me that he 
died from loss of blood cutting himself.
Until that heartbreaking day, I started to realize how stupid I was...
His death made me realize that he meant much more to me 
then him being a brother... he meant everything to me and I wouldn't have ever traded him
even for the world.
I love Zhentiah more than anything... he is gone, but not forgotten. Why?
Because he always used to tell me to look up at the stars if I ever felt alone,
or if I needed something to remember him by.

I love you Zhentiah Siatchier, forgive me... watch over me

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