Long Climbing the walls Poems
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As light plays upon the dark, that moon through stained glass windows
cutting a swarth across cobbled floors.
It seeps into the cracks like it's found home at last
How a distant piano to a curious ear attracts
a de'javu moment and yet it is unwritten.
You follow the fleeting seeking some origin
reaching out for inspiration as if it were original sin
All recitations from what remains unwritten
Those words hidden under the tongue just below the surface of a heart.
Contour of an image meant to be lived, yet remains unchanged, namelessly forgotten.
Its a melancholy of indecision climbing the walls of narrow passages like wisteria
you adhere to the impulse to cover all that once lay bare.
I drag tired fingers around the next bend, the next barrier
is more impressive than the last.
There’s an attempt to grasp something in the lapse between thoughts
to trade abstract beliefs for the tangible, it is enough to inspire devotion.
a shadow climbs the wall only to stall in its climax
abiding but a remnant of the unwritten.
Something is always left in these corners where candles aid their illumination
and thoughts drift elsewhere in the dancing theatre of undefined movements.
The unknowing becomes vagabond to the warmest of comforts.
You find yourself in these blankets of cloud cover observing holes in the disguise.
The veil suddenly lifted, experience immediate, no longer a stranger
so you can gaze upon these mirrors and hasten that journey toward home
Home, your feeling is kept fleeting, A temporal haven so you can continue repeating
these steps that lead you towards the perfect escape.
Always almost there... In this world of smoke and mirrors
Trapped in illusion that holds time obscurely
"The Unwritten"
So we bend beneath the wing of watching eyes.
Trenched in the words of silver tongues, frozen by the voice of awkward edges
For if the unwritten were to be before its time, If it were to flee,
to break free and roam; Become the breeze through these hallowed halls
of desperate belief.
To write the unwritten...
Then though they'd cry and shout and leap, No wall could stretch from sea to sky
Nor any kingdom stop it.
It is etched on the soul more deeply than stone
And we have given it a name...
Our Destiny
'Twas the night before Christmas, I’d forgotten the sprouts
So I sent out a plea to the local boy scouts
I’d remembered the crackers, the turkey and ham
but my guests would expect sprouts, so I was in a jam
The scout leader admitted that I was in a pickle
and he said my family were all somewhat fickle
I said Uncle Bert just adored eating brussels
then he’d fart for days with his lax sphincter muscles
The scout leader had a plan, it is so well thought out
He'd call each scout’s mother to donate just one sprout
Every scout hurries round with one sprout in their hands
soon I have plenty of veg to sate my guest’s demands
On Christmas Day the relations ring my door bell
Pat barges into my kitchen; she makes my life hell
At one time she cooked meals for guys in the Navy
So she has to check if there are lumps in MY gravy
On the stroke of one o’clock I dish up the food
Uncle Bert belches loudly, that man is so rude
They devour all the turkey and round stuffing balls
By the end of the main course I’m climbing the walls!
They don’t offer to help, so I fetch the dessert
Uncle Bert drips brandy butter all over his shirt
Then they guzzle the cheese and finish the wine
Bert then farts profusely, he’s a disgusting swine
Then we sit round the TV to listen to the Queen
Bert’s eaten too much, his face has turned green
Pat gives me a present, of a hand knitted jumper
It’s three sizes too big, I just want to thump her
They’ve descended on me these last fifteen years
I ask if they’ll reciprocate, my words fall on deaf ears
They never say thank you, they drink all my booze
Next year they can whistle, I’m booking a cruise!
(A lone voice whispers)
There's a hidden secret room I go to
In my cathedral of dreams
Whenever I sleep
Where a white candle burns
In The Great In-Between
As Yesterday lives wild
Fed on memories and crawl the broken walls
While favourite ones stand up tall
And in amongst the grey clutches of Yesterday
There in the middle
Amongst the cobwebs and ivy
The weeds and bits of creeping moss
Is my old shrine
To all I've once lost
A long time ago
As white as snow
But now grey
It shines and gleams
As Yesterday
Crawls up the walls
Like a banshee
Wearing a black shawl
In its centre
Made of now dull silver
On its table
Is a black and white picture left by Yesterday
For me to remember
My only love
Lost in December
And as I pause
And Yesterday
Feeding on memories
Stop's climbing the walls
I hear her sweet husky voice over the top of my beating heart
It breaches the weed filled nooks and crannies
Cools my fast flowing bloodstream
Then in that moment climbing through the atoms of that sparse air
Comes her perfume drifting
From somewhere
A much loved fragrance from the past
Filled with sweet moments as I remember and prayed would last
Then Yesterday moves
And the scent is gone
The voice disappears
And in that room of no living creature
Where I sometimes appear
To remember
Yesterday's memories
Which I hold dear
That white candle burns
Brighter each year
On the 28 of December
When I return to remember
My beloved Lucinda
Who I lost
One fatal day in winter
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
“Cream Pie”.
We never took a chance,
We wouldn’t make the time.
And I just didn’t care if you were mine?
No now you’re here,
and now I'm there.
You took his love, and his name,
then you married him, to get out of the rain.
And I just don’t care, is there something wrong?
With me?
You’re with him now,
but you can’t say, why?
There’s mud on your feet,
and there's semen on the curtains.
and he dirties up, the floor,
smearing greasy fingers on decaffeinated walls
and down the hall, the road is overgrown,
all your butterflies have died.
Your river of love, has run dry,
I never said hello,
You never said… goodbye.
And we danced through the
And we danced through a dream.
I've lost all your letters.
I'm staring at the calendar on the door?
Cheap wine burns holes in my memories.
Climbing the walls with my fingernails.
But I just keep falling down,
again, and again, blood smears,
no tears on the ceiling…
I feel your burning embers,
A storm in the distance.
I don’t know what to say as, I walk through the sunset,
the darkness into the rain, again.
When the raging river, runs free,
and the wildfires have died,
you'll have no love,
and you'll have no pride,
Wake me up from this dream,
Only then will I eat… your cream pie….
in the rain.
I wanna eat your cream pie,
in the rain.
(c) London F. Buss
All the children were excited, climbing the walls
Time for Annual Fall Festival at Crabbe Elementary
Corn shocks and jack-o’-lanterns decorated the halls.
The public invited, so at the door stood a sentry
Checking identification and issuing free passes
Time for Annual Fall Festival at Crabbe Elementary.
Responsible for a game were each of the classes
With prizes provided by the local mercantile shops
Checking identification and issuing free passes.
I never thought for a festival I’d see so many cops
But “the times they are a’changin’;” a swell affair
With prizes provided by the local mercantile shops.
Once kids could have fun all day long at a school fair
Parents always enjoy getting to know one another
But “the times they are a’changin’;” a swell affair,
Until I saw a four-year-old trying to find his mother
All the children were excited, climbing the walls,
Parents always enjoy getting to know one another
Corn shocks and jack-o’-lanterns decorated the halls.
Written October 24, 2022
I saw a light shining down on me
Thought it was the end of time.
And I just couldn’t let it
I turned to face the bringer
But he just walked away
Maybe now I can live to fight another day.
Wax and feathers won’t stand the test of time
Falling like a stone only to be shot out again
If you can’t stand your captors, then don’t do the crime
I can’t walk away this time
In silence here I stand alone
Climbing the walls is the only thing we can do.
Then darkness fell all around the town
I heard the sound of heartbeats all at once
Screams rang out long into the night
Voices rising and falling
Now after all, it could all end here
Then I heard nothing but the sound of silence.
All of a sudden a light began to appear
A million eyes all opening at once
It was nothing like anything I had seen before
But there was hesitation and apprehension
It all seemed to land on one man’s decision
I want to believe, I want to smile
And then the doors open and I see a new Eden.
Form:
Oversight,
Final romantic aviation aspiration destiny.
Only for impossibility to cruelly belly ache against man,
Because encompassing the heart seem mystifying lost.
Myself,
Prayers come with moments of emotional bondage,
Caught in a web of entanglement me.
Never getting into the simple Heaven,
So it seems event every.
Mute communion this morning,
Climbing the walls of the horizon coloring of one,
Birds of darken prey,
Trying to shake me,
Nevertheless this has to be,
Journeying beyond me & everything under the sun.
Hanging for dear life of soul bound,
Spirit determine to carry on,
Stakes are high,
So is Your reach,
Praying I know is enough,
Sometimes one most enter the insane of the matter.
Caressing the otherside floor with my lips,
The place You tread,
Simply "Thanking You" with kisses.
Time You only know what I have done with,
No hiding the facts under the earthly rug,
Here I am,
Honored for life I have on Earth-
Christmas gift to the Lord-
Form:
Being pulled under.
Like a lily pad going ‘boop.’
Bobbing around, then nothing.
No amount of clearing my mind will undo it.
A spider whisper.
He likes me.
Prickling like his legs.
As if I’m in a dome.
Pulled under.
There are other people who have the slobbering feeling under their hair.
Faded out.
Like a pinecone with its edges shaved.
Fingers focusing.
With gripping finger pads that do nothing.
And the kitchen is always a mess of weird things.
Bugs and things.
My edges shaved down and caved in a little.
Grappling under the ice, but there’s no water, just feet of ice.
Someone else used to live here.
He was like a centipede to me.
Everyone is like a centipede to me.
Climbing the walls.
So am I.
Always around in the basement.
Depression.
Is when you are a spider, centipede, lily pad, or pinecone.
And could get crushed any moment.
But you don’t.
We should only eat six sprouts at Christmas
Deem the council who are in Leicestershire
Its no joke, it’s a serious message at Xmas
To reduce waste and not make it higher
We must cut back on crisp pigs in blankets
And should only have three stuffing balls
Also cut back on spuds and fluffy Yorkshire puds
Gee I’m going to be climbing the walls!
I love to eat sprouts at my Christmas dinner
There will be NO sprout restriction for me
I’m rebelling; you may call me a sinner
There'll be piles of sprouts when I eat tea
Yes I’m going to load up my plate
Those officials can just go to hell
I’ll eat sprout after sprout after spout
And then let out a disgusting smell
The council’s intentions are honourable
Of that there are no doubts
But Leicester County Council
Keep your mitts off my Brussel sprouts!
12/21/17
Is it over, is it really now over,
Are we just dreaming or simply misled,
Can we resume the rest of our lives
Outside these four walls and the shade of our bed.
Can we now fill our lungs with fresh air
Breathing no longer through layers of cloth,
Or must we endure that little while longer
Protected indoors, cocooned like a moth.
Exhausted from watching show after show,
Tidying closets, climbing the walls,
Snacking in boredom, growing in girth,
Constantly texting, washing our smalls.
Hair growing longer, nails more like claws,
Roots ever greyer, solutions too few,
Pampered and spoiled, lost in a haze
Reliant on others, but whoever knew.
So tell us it's over, we pray and beseech,
Bring back the life we knew and adore,
Life's little pleasures all gone in a flash,
Staying cooped up is now such a chore.