Long Come to the fore Poems
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'Helpless' is an adjective I never thought
my hand would write to describe the despair
that's wound its way deep inside my heart.
Honestly, I'm only the catalyst of my own life,
the taproot that strengthens my mindset,
my cornerstone, my anchor, my backbone
when I wobble in the wind over matters
that I deem too serious to contemplate.
Lately, my thoughts swing back and forth,
from heights and depths, highs and lows.
My conscience cannot abide the seesaw
on which it rides up and down.
It wants to get off but can't find the right stride
to control where my troubled mind goes.
What fulcrum will serve as a bulwark for me?
Today I turn away from the bitterness and strife,
but tomorrow my mind will again pivot upon life.
I am a pendulum, swinging in the air,
but I have no counterweights to spare.
I try to bury my worries, but I still hear them chime.
There's no place to hide from a revolution.
Persecution of the innocent is a wretched crime.
What can I do to ease such chaos and lament?
I pray for Divine intervention with the intention
that God's mercy will help humankind
endure their banes and lessen their pains.
But is it His plan to save man in this way?
I've become unsure that He will intervene.
With so much folly and corruption in the world
I wonder... should I keep my sails unfurled
and take flight so that I might never see
horrors in the night and the bitter blight,
the tragedy being inflicted upon each other.
Or should I stay to fight with my brothers?
Given my druthers, there'd be no choice to make
if greed in fiendish ones, they would forsake.
What hub could serve as the center point,
a crux where minds meet to ease the tension,
and erase the apprehension in our society?
If there is an answer it has not come to the fore.
Must that mean war is the only solution?
Is there no resolution, something awesomely sublime,
to be a lever of sanity and give proper perspective
to a world standing on the edge of fanatical unrest?
I've no answer that would end the volatile upheaval
or staunch the flow of blood driven by an evil ego.
To negate the vile ones who are assailing humanity,
will take a mind shrewder than mine has to reveal.
March 8, 2022
Consciousness Fulcrum Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each others arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
15th April 2014
Jan Allison and Darren Watson - 'JaDazzle'
Please also read my Blog about our collaboration
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each other’s arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
15th April 2014
If you throw like a girl is it because you’re a girl
Or because the boy is more practiced?
And if you do practice, if you do care enough
If he throws a ball harder is it because you’re a girl
Or because he has more muscle mass,
And if another male throws harder that I
Do I throw like a girl? Mark me down simply
As one who seeks to enjoy whatever I do. You should too,
I promise to only love you more for it, but
Only fools wreck their bodies for adulation of others.
If I cry, does that mean that I cry like a girl,
Or, as I suspect, are girls always more practiced
And if I practiced might my tears perhaps bring me less shame
How does one push feelings down and still remain human?
A man that can kill? Well is that human gain?
Though men hold the reins, whose hand rocks the cradle?
To keep family safe should all men become drones?
Perhaps women need to play bigger roles too
And more gender equality come to the fore.
Beautiful, tough and outstanding is self-knowledge
What the world thinks not worth two wooden nickels
If it does not speak to your heart. and only to pride.
Smell nice for me and love being a woman,
If you can love that men love you, love your magic shape,
Love the compassion in your heart, love man’s innocence,
Love that there is strength in the length of your hair,
Bring poetry into your sexuality and always be loved.
Trust that being a man is not always that easy either.
Embrace your potential but study weaknesses as well
For weakness understood properly is future strength.
Don’t drive men wild though instead drive men sane.
Help men to understand that needing you is OK,
That some kinds of weakness in men strengthens love.
The next time you ask me to help in the kitchen
Respect too that men have ideas on where things should go
After all babe I am the man of the house…
Hear me roar!
Brian Johnston
April 27, 2015
Poet's Notes:
I am hoping to make this an Echo poem by combining a poem called 'Like A Girl' by "Poet Destroyer A" with the poem you see here. Wish me luck!
So Much and Yes More
As she let slip her gown to reveal a shoulder so white
Her head she turned round with lips full, luscious and teeth oh so white
His lips trembled as they touched her flesh, the gown rippled to the floor
As he kissed her, his mind was planning to do so much, and yes more…
Knees trembling with a desire as the heat started to rise
His kisses rise up from her chin to each fluttering closed eye
Her hands did a walk round his body, she found twas no chore
He waited and he wanted her do so much, and yes more…
Burning now with desire, tongues battling with lust
Flicking the lips, the white teeth, tongue running round was a must
Teeth that shone in the blue light last night on the dance floor
Although they may be false they still wanted to do so much and yes more.
Knees that had trembled in that first shy clumsy embrace
Were strong and steady now he felt there was no need to chase
Because the walking frame is away they are leaning against the door
Wrapped in each others arms and wanting to do so much, and yes more…
New found love, the twinkle in the eye of each lover of fun
Misted eyes not with love, but a cataract on each one.
They exchanged words of love; they were going to have a drink next door
Holding hands under the table wanting to do so much and yes more…
Hearts were pounding a magnetism drew them so close to journeys end
The new induction cooker finished off the would be lovers that were now friends
As they leaned against it in a passionate embrace - neither saw
A warning about induction and pacemakers, that damage so much, and yes more…
The sparks they did fly and the couple reveled in their final burst of lust
But it was very short lived as they both then bit the dust
So take heed as you age and your passions still come to the fore
Avoid making love against an induction hob as the damage is so much and yes more…
© ~GG~ 09/10/2102
In a cloudy dark night I lay restless,
My dreams speak my heart out, so I am afraid to sleep,
Because when I sleep I know the things in my heart would come to the fore, to my mind,
And I would be intent on following my mind which would have followed my heart.
So here I am, in a cloudy dark night, lying restless staring at a starless night.
Is it true? Is it real?
I think as I walk into my dream world touching the delicate glass like perfected world that shatters as I try to touch it.
A warmth felt like never before is the atmosphere of this world,
A feeling like never before is the aura of this world,
I walk on the meadows full of morning dew, the touch of it brightening up my face.
My hair caressed by the windy blows makes me rejoice the misty world.
I pray for this eternal bliss to be with me forever as I get enchanted by this mystifying spell on me.
I have been waiting to be in bliss like for a thousand years and here I am living it all in a just the blink of an eye as everything around me starts to turn back to what it had been!
And there I lay staring at a starless sky in a dark night that again triggers into my mind my world, my very own world of reality.
No, this was no Cindrella story, but just an incomplete story that could be true someday!
Until that day I would lie, staring at a starless sky, trying to find out one little twinkling star that struggles to shine in a dark night and would lose myself in the mystic spell of this dark night each day, because I believe that after a dark, stormy night, the stars do come out and shine, ruling the sky!
There once was a robin who flew
somewhat strangely down my chimney flue.
When I asked if she missed
due to morn's heavy mist,
she said, "That, plus I'm fighting the flu".
Unhappy with how much I weigh,
for a long time I searched for a way
to get rid of some weight.
This was well worth the wait:
to fruit smoothies I add powdered whey!
She prays to her Father most holy,
while adoring His worthiness wholly.
For long hours she'll kneel
by her new husband, Neil.
So that's why both their pants are so holey.
Though he couldn't look me in the eye,
the cupcake thief said, "It is I".
When I asked, "So you ate
every one of the eight?"
With a fierce stomach ache he said, "aye".
A new singer has come to the fore
though I honestly don't know what for.
Her light dimly has shone
(as her critics have shown) -
her "cringe" songs I could name three or four.
This poet tells bad jokes (puns, too)
every minute he'll tell one or two.
Now this half-funny bard
from all bars is now barred
till his victims who passed out come to.
My sailboat I towed down the road
to the bay; at the helm my son rode.
But no breezes were seen
at the smooth-as-glass scene -
to our destination we both rowed!
Twelve donuts I opted to buy,
as I nibbled on them by and by.
Now they're gone - who knows where
(my new pants I can't wear)
With this mystery I'll sign off. Bye!
//Homophones - two words sounding the same but with different meanings //
Written 26 Oct 2022
As I lay me down to sleep.
Off to dream land without a peep.
Magic seems to fill the air.
As I dream that I am there.
Never have I seen such a place before.
As magical creatures come to the fore.
Unicorns so pure and white.
Disappear mysteriously out of sight.
I come to an opening and into a clear.
I see colourful gardens every where.
And up on a hill top , way up high,
A magical castle seems to touch the sky.
And off to my left , a water fall.
I hadn't really noticed before.
And strange little beings , with butterfly wings.
Flying about , and doing all sorts of things.
Through an archway and down a path.
A beautiful angel is playing a harp.
I come to some stairs , that seem painted in gold.
No one would believe me , if I ever told.
Up the stairs as I come to a door.
I knock once , twice , three times and four.
The door seem to open by it's self.
I tip-toe inside quiet and stealth.
Over by a window is a beautiful white bed.
All I can see , is the top of a head.
As I look around the room , a little bit more.
I see a beautiful white unicorn on a dresser draw.
And strange little beings with butterfly wings.
Hanging from the ceiling on pieces of string.
And over on a shelf , near the door.
Is the angel I thought I saw before.
And the castle that seem to touch the sky.
Is down on the floor , by the bedside.
What seems to appear before my eyes.
Is a room I recognize.
But am I awake , or , asleep.
As back in my room, I now creep.
Dead man
in a recliner
The father I love,
Gone to meet,
His Maker above
Grizzly sight,
Face contorted in pain.
A scene I hope
To never witness again
6PM "Popeye" cartoons,
Rush to greet Dad,
Now dead in the recliner
The only father I've ever had
Pizzas on an English muffin,
Sat. night treat,
Mashed potatoes every day,
It was cheap enough to eat....
Archie Bunker on TV
Dinner burger and fries
Living this life
Of truth or of lies?
Dead man in a recliner
Someday will be me
And some other lost soul
Will be the first one to see
Un-needed wallet,
$2 in change,
Cold room grows dim,
I'm feeling real strange
Got one foot in this world
One foot in the next,
Ready to step off,
My mind is now flexed
Dead man in a recliner,
I see, it is me....
How is that possible?
How could that be?
I'm here, I'm here,
I'm lookin' at me...
Dead in the recliner
Now I do see...
Lights approaching behind that body,
Shadowy figures come to the fore,
People long gone,
People I adore....
My father in front,
No longer dead in that chair
Puts his hand out to me
It's time for us to share
I'm dead in a recliner,
As he has been too,
I'm ready to go
And travel with you...
I'm dead in a recliner
Alive to a new world,
No dead fingers a' grasping
They're open, unfurled.
Come cover me with taffeta blue and and my cello's hue
and let the warmth rub onto you
when they join the cotton of my handkerchief
Nature's discards in their pure state are put to good use
I love the touch of man-made materials
the feel becomes pure joy when cloth unites with painted wood
with its contours, the touch is overwhelming
my heart becomes raucous
When I speak with my cello silence prevails
I play my cello silently, it groans in soft delights
the audience wiggles in their seats
heaven itself can’t contain the beauty of the subtle pianissimo
The audience rustles impatiently
"Hush," I say to the multitudes
they become quiet
in the silence a tender peaceful note on high is heard
I play a blue cello, a golden muted trumpet accompanies me
the piano enters with soft arpeggios blending in
pianissimo notes intertwined with the lilting melody enter quietly
a melody that carries one forward to soulful reveries
Long panoplies of chords flow like water into a placid lake
flutes come to the fore filling out the symmetry of music
the colorful composition is manna to the ears and the heart
after an excursion through time music flows hectically but
Gracefully from their beginning strains resolving to the tonic
to the soul
to its peaceful rest
and its final respite.