Long Dark hope Poems
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down the path of broken promises
up the stream’s misguided dreams
shoulders burdened crushed and rounded
by all accounts tallied and squared off
countless breaths and tears held back
while chilling fears explode unhinged
tossed plans and schemes to wispy clouds
deep in marshlands of futility hope lies
armsful of useless forgotten treasure
fistsful of dust cast out to all four winds
tomorrow’s sunrise stretching
over stray clearings of blue skies
but tonight under the canopy of stars
love no longer will be denied
Read on air by invitation ~ April 9, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2021
POTD - March 30, 2021
Submitted on March 28, 2021 for contest PHOENIX RISING sponsored by UNSEEKING SEEKER - RANKED 4TH
For me burning daylight invites me to the black
It's not that I don't like daylight, for I'll never lack
If I'm ever to prowl whether it's amidst the dark, light
It's being the cleverest, within either I'm out of sight
Have you ever walked behind someone oh so quiet
Can you simply imagine, their strolling quiet riot
To even stand beside, in an Otis lift, we're alone
We in burning daylight, whom does whom belong
Sitting in a restaurant, all alone with no chaperon
Whether it's burning daylight, who does who own
For me burning daylight invites me to the black
To venture into the black, then I'll soon relax
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
white was first color scheme.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
I looked and loathe where I'd been.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
even in the dark, hope is seen.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
my slate wiped clean.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
on sheets of white, a positive beam.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
One and only One light on the scene.
I have gained everything
with white supremacy
A love so supreme,
each and every soul could be redeemed.
*
It Happened Quite Some Time Ago,
this Story I'm about to Tell,
Way Back a Long Time Ago,
When I Lived in the Depths of Hell.
I Drank Potions and Elixirs of Death,
for Life I Had No Care.
I Lived for the Ultimate High,
My Soul Icy Cold and Bare.
There Was No One I Knew to Care.
I Was Aimlessly Drifting Through Life,
and Caring for Nothing at All,
When I Was Stabbed by a Knife.
It Was the Knife of Desperation,
the Loneliness Too Much to Bear.
That Was the Day I Walked out of Hell
and I Fell on My Knees in Prayer.
It All Happened Sometime Back,
My Troubles Blew Away like the Sand.
I Got up off My Knees That Day,
With the Help of a Nail Scarred Hand.
Connie Moore
May 4, 1997
A candle burns its life away;
sacrifice to it, is sweet;
it is a candle’s lot in life.
Candles gift, a light dark cloaked;
beacon burning bright;
candles warmth and charm are unmatched by
anything else, man has made.
Candles birth soft memories;
lend rest to the eyes and romance to the heart.
Candle has sung many centuries;
a companion in dark ages; on dark nights,
its glow can hold childhood terrors, at bay.
Candle songs kept aging sailors company on raging,
storm-ridden seas. No bullying leviathan
would ever cross candle’s path willingly.
Even sea monsters fear its burning breath.
Candles glow, a dancer on the air,
dances for everyone;
candle-tango brings passion to lovers.
No one is alone when candle is near,
such a light-companion,
draws others to its domain.
Candle has gathered friends together in
taverns to celebrate;
in hovels, for warmth and at parties of celebration.
By candles gift, we find our way home;
its welcome warmth, a song of love on an empty, cold night.
When you burn, burn bright and long;
your light is the warm love that you leave to the world.
No bulb, LED or solar panel can bestow your gift.
When your flame is gone, when your torch has been passed;
your legacy will light another’s way to
faith, hope and love.
there's little sunshine these days,
and despair blows like a cold wind.
It rains, and rains, and rains.
state of affairs go from bad to worse.
Innocent souls perish in a war-torn nation.
the fog of hopelessness hangs in the air
for a downtrodden struggling to survive
in the mean, unforgiving streets.
a child's life hangs in the balance;
accidentally struck by rat-a-tat of gunfire.
what is going on in the world?
all birds, but the mourning dove...
keep silent in the meadow.
the praying mantis has seen better days;
It's arms folded in hope that
tomorrow is a brighter, better day.
However we seem
To consider the world,
Broken, messy, haunting
We deem.
One thing remains.
How terrible,
Frightening, and
Heartless creatures
Humans can be,
One thing is constant.
The beauty of humans
Discovering anew
With each passing day
Like never before.
As the world
Grows darker
There remains
A simmer of light;
We call it hope.
Something out there
That will be found,
Discovered, adored,
Forever yearned for.
Meeting new people
Who will someday
Love or hate you,
Even just grow apart.
Music you never knew
Was the taste for your soul.
Authors and poets
You begin to succumb to.
Your collection of favourites
Adapting with each new discovery.
Food you’d never tried
And hobbies that light
The spark in your life,
The one the world dimmed
When you were only ten.
Dancing and dreaming
And singing off-key,
Laughing so hard
You’ll snort milk out your nose.
Chasing your dreams
With nothing more
Than genuine support;
The kind you wish you had
When life sent you through it.
The world only darkens
As the calendar moves,
But there is beauty in humans
As they find ways to cope.
As the child in them
Comes back to life,
Happy to find
You haven’t given up.
Winter Hope
When Winter winds begin to whirl around
and whisper through my long and lonely days,
I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem
and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.
When flowers in my garden turn to seed,
and all the trees stand naked in the field,
I’ll plant a poesy on my window sill
and hope I find contentment in its yield.
When daylight seems scarce as a fresh-cut rose,
and darkness settles in for months on end,
I’ll write a song to keep me company
and hope the melody will be well penned.
The winter chill will not discourage me,
when I can create hope with poetry.
between new nightmares
and day dreams
of a better life
lay reality resurfaced
tight with taut brutality
unspeakable thoughts drift
down through time's flash
triggered not there
not then
but now and here
her mind digs through fear
as she sinks
slight form down
crisp skirt's rustle sound
folds with her
to ground
and she says to herself
I will lay here
in this hollow
it fits the curve of my spine
holds the shape
of my hips
and the grass padded earth
cups itself a little
around my waist
hugs me
till I sleep
I am still alive
I am dead
to the world
tar roads
pavements
are too hard
concrete
cannot hold me
the same way
they resist my shape
press flatness
hard
against me
leave me sore
unrested
complaints unheard
where may I sleep
With fragrance
of grass and earth
maybe
in a garden
a cultured space
thoughts arouse
aroma once known
from those past
yet still present
places
so pleasant
maybe then
I will fall into dreams
of painless light
sunshine will soothe
I will feel bright
flame red flowers
in free fall
Will not burn
as they engulf me
float from arms
branches
blue sky stretched
they will caress me
in potpourri perfume
memories mock
her senses
she yearns to block
their burn
when I sleep
I'll not smell
petrol fumes
flared up
I will not hear
the shudder of bodies
breaking down the door
I will forget
the screams
eardrums pierced
my own
I will not feel
my body burn
in hell hound fire
twisted hatred
from ordinary mothers
fathers sisters sons
bizarre beliefs
turned my skin
from brown silk smooth
to outlandish patches
pink and brown
how will I
become
familiar
with who I am
now
she falls asleep
dreams
of sunshine
tree shadow dappled
nature cradles her
in dark and light
she breathes low
drum sounds
bring her back
there
next to eyes
awakening
her fingers
delicate drummers
play the earth
With firm tips
tap tapping
a well known song
her long gone
mother's lullaby
hush my child
hush now
don't cry
sleep sweet
against my heart
hush now
hear the beats
of my love
for you
hush now
so angels
do not sigh
hum drum
hum drum
hum drum
she starts to cry
Posted:15-12-2018
Note: "Sister" poem to "thin skinned"
A nobody cast into a sea of duties
Drowning in confusion and being dragged
By the turbulent tides
A vulnerable thing tossed
By the waves of prejudice.
Opening my mouth—
to scream a single word
Stretching my hand—
to reach where nothing holds—
Bearing a sense of emptiness
Pressing into my spine.
Struggling to retain my sanity
with a single thread—
A rotten rope
stretched between various dreams
While suppressing nostalgia for
The golden silhouette of the wrinkled past.
In this small patch of blue,
With a wave of her hand
I could say it....
clearly, without doubt—
She's my sky.