Long Dramatize Poems
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With the tremulous dark vista so far and yet so near
Abandoning my defences ~ I stand in awe ~ not in fear
Virtuoso Maestro unleash
a Composition Grandioso
To Overtures of a Symphony
herald the raging storming Tempo
Staccato Strains cascading
rapid torrents of Treble and Tremolo
Rhythmic Beats a Prelude
to an intensifying Triple Time Scherzo
Silken sail unfurled I embrace the storm of your tempestuous symphony
Crashing~ drifting~ floating~ flowing~ tasting ~awakening my melodic epiphany
Effervescent chilling thrilling air as
Allegro whelms Allegretto
Electrifying sizzling Musette ~
Trills a mesmeric Capriccio
Registers booming Bass Notes
rumbling within your thunderous Vibrato
Echoing claps of thunder Prompt
a spectacular Cadence Crescendo
I release my Spirit to gratify every phantasy in its sight
The soaring Tempest of my Soul liberates its own Philharmonic flight
Inhibitions abandoned as I succumb to your Music of the Night
Footnote:
By way of musical term allegory, I have endeavored to dramatize and romanticize the Awesomeness of an Electrical Thunderstorm and simultaneously likening it to the rush of tactual Sensual, Sexuality and Emotions experienced in romantic instances. I felt that the instrumental rendition of ‘The Phantom’ Musical, aptly accentuates the trepidation, anticipation and elating sentiments portrayed in the various elements of my poem.
Near the last few days of moving, my parents came to me. I knew that at this time
with their pleading looks, they were asking for the decision that would change
everything. It took all of my strength to tel them, yes we should move. After they
left, tears rolled stained my pillowcase. The only thing I could think about was
James. Why did it have to be now, that I feel so strongly about a boy. At the time it
seemed so unfair. As a young woman I tended to dramatize everything, and
definetly could not see the full picture.The full picture that fate really interferes
with life. I think its very wierd, how for all those years of my youth that I had never
really developed any form of relationship with any other boys. It almost makes it
seem like he is the one. Because I had finally found him, and then it was time to
pack up and leave. Despite everything he and I have made it through. Its funny
how things work out.
The hardest part, was telling James. We walked to the beach, and I stared at him
and he knew I came baring bad news. I will forever remeber that moment in
time. "James, my family is moving to Toronto. I am so, so sorry." I felt as if I had
just ripped out my own heart and handed it over to him. He looked away into the
lake, and I could see the sorrow in his eyes. I looked the other way as tears
rolled down my cheek, and I remeber hearing him say that everything was going
to be alright. At the time, nothing seemed as it would be ok.
Form:
I am here to let you know.
The most important things in life.
We can live our lives together girl.
So come stand next to me.
I am here to let you know.
To try to make you see.
The most important things in life.
Were to look you in the eyes.
To tell you all my hidden secrets.
The things that make you cry.
To search for a thousand ways to love you.
Search forever more.
Climb to the top of the highest mountains.
Sail to every shore..
So I am here to let you know.
The most important things in life.
And we can live our lives together.
Together side by side.
I am here to let you know.
To try to make you see.
The most important things in life.
Were to hold you in my arms.
To tell you a lot of little stories.
Stories I dramatize.
To find a million ways to keep you.
To keep you next to me.
To search for burried treasure.
Down at the bottom of the sea...
Important Things-Song Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1983,2015..ALL rights reserved..
Please, stop, and look me in the eyes.
You are all flustered, I realize
But I am not willing to hear your cries
Until you settle down and look me in the eyes.
I know this came to you as a big surprise
But the situation here didn’t just vaporize
It didn’t drop down upon us from the heavenly skies
You knew I wasn’t satisfied; there were no lies.
Now that I’m leaving, you won’t hear the whys
Instead you would rather just criticize
It must be MY fault is what you surmise
Because, after all, you are such a good prize.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize
That you and I shouldn’t visualize
A long future together to materialize
The love we share is a convenient disguise.
So, please, stop and look me in the eyes
I want to be friends after these good-byes
There is no need to over dramatize
Its just time we moved on with separate lives.
Piecing together Harris/ Kuritsky tattered family tree
(Betsy Ross would beam at unflagging effort)
Ah, here all along yours truly
thought himself an abductee,
and/or zoologically
linkedin with chimpanzee,
hence imagine my disappointment
flipping laminated pages ye
ja undertook undoubtedly
painstaking effort,
plus wireless subcommittee
stitched together plain to see
helpful input thank you Amelie,
plus unnamed, undaunted,
and informed cousins
contributing to digging
into archives to help free
some unanswered nagging questions
only to generate others re:
garding ahem little feet
legs skinny as spaghetti
this haint no phallus si¿
lodged within me
noggin, which effort crudely
analogous fitting
prosthetic to amputee,
who understandably loosing limb,
would find her/him
screaming like banshee,
which one with diminished hearing
might sound like
suite (sweet) firebird stung
explaining flight of bumblebee
nonetheless, the bundled, compiled,
and detailed genealogy
courtesy eldest sister prithee
perhaps inspire "FAKE"
trumpeted voluminous tome twee
starring pooch donning
windblown heir spade fur -
or sporting canine toupee
with apt title regarding petsmart
bonafide muttering dog gone pedigree
hump backed es
in heat making whoopie
would become best selling fiction,
whereby Hollywood
might come calling
of course anonymous
actors/actresses,
or training one or another Arctic monkey,
where production costs
totally tubular less money
versus famous Homo
thespians portraying
long gone i.e. bissell mishuga
characterizing deceased exhumed
(figuratively) ghosts
might be (like...y'know...really) eerie
yet, a possible windfall
after signed contract
once all parties privy
to dramatize ancestors
unilaterally abide and agree
this unsolicited barkback feedback
countless many shindigs
witnessed predictable
yours truly absentee
soul (and sole) brother pulling
no shows claiming lame excuse
ah betcha I inherited emotional uncoupling
generations ago dirt poor peon,
perhaps unwitting creator
of peanut butter and jelly.
From whence it came and for what purpose, completely mystifies.
Could be from earth's galaxy with The One God to look toward
or another universe, though those with degrees say such is jive.
Perhaps, said denial is one omnipotent wisdom has long adored.
Here it did appear, causing humans to endlessly, painfully agonize,
as it senselessly, cruelly, ever stains us to deny us an Eden accord.
Hate is why we are here, we are to love it away, make it vaporize.
God made egos sick prone so hate lessons come and are absorbed.
To aid this, He put truth in our souls that further nudges us to realize
all hate guises and love alter them radiantly, spiritually restored.
First hate likely fast flashed with potential to pass ignored
but due to an attention need, first man chose to dramatize.
Seeing his feelings fed, others wished to feel likewise preferred.
Egos grew and began dramatizing all happenings under the skies
as if all time brought was for just one person's discord or reward.
Since, selfish, hate based fallacies have destroyed peaceful lives,
caused horrific wars and nightmares harmony cannot afford.
Earth and mankind are saturated with violent blood and soul cries.
Some do not even know why they were handed a gun or sword.
Still, back and forth, hate ever slithers towards peace's demise.
I finished moving into my residential college as a storm began
- fat raindrops, as big as coconuts, falling from a black and fouling sky.
These northerners were acting like a "tropical storm" (Henri) was a big deal.
“Surely New England gets storms?” I ask, from behind my mask.
“What about NOR_Easters?” I say, like a meteorologist.
“Those are different.” I’m told, with no other explanation.
“Did you bring this storm from the “SOUTH?” I’m asked, accusingly.
*(This was after I told them about coming from one ”bulldog-college-town” to another.)*
“Yes.” I reply, “It was in my luggage.”
A silly question but they have a point - the storm feels like it’s involved and fulfilling some obligation to dramatize my college move-in story.
“Time to quarantine!” I’m informed - “Yep, can’t WAIT!” I lie.
One disaster at a time.
In the depths of thought, where memories blend with dreams,
I walk a path of shadows and lights, where experiences weave in silence,
A voice whispers of the trap of generalization, a labyrinth of illusions,
Where each personal story is a distinct universe, a solitary galaxy.
That woman, with eagle-like steps, turned her love into guidance,
Seeking truths in messages and shadowed street corners of uncertainty,
But each of her gestures, a metaphor of fear, built walls between hearts,
The advice given to a friend became an echo that shattered the silence of love.
A coffee thrown in the tumult of a business meeting, a symbol of mistrust,
Turned into a storm of tears and reproaches,
Bitter words and rash gestures, a play without a script,
In which unseen details rewrote the ending, a divorce that closed chapters.
Understanding, an unfathomable labyrinth, where each detail is a key,
And ignorance, a monster that distorts reality,
In the flow of consciousness, I wonder how it would have been if we had looked gently,
If we had allowed mystery to tell its silent story.
In a world of mirrors and reflections, where nothing is identical,
Experiences melt away, like snowflakes, unique and unrepeatable,
And perhaps the lesson is to look with open eyes, to listen with the heart,
Not to dramatize absurdly, but to embrace uncertainty as an old friend.
Autumn's moon truly radiant and full
in a stippled and rapture blue sailcloth
of inward bliss. How fragile is the troth
in nature's errs that's hurled into the pull?
Alter of light dramatize trembling leaves
drifting throughout on the gravel below.
Shadows cast across the ground in repose.
Silence surge as darkness draws, heed for thieves.
Snappish breeze spring up slicing through darkness.
Wet mist and fever dew glimmer and press
earth's unturned heart yet bizarrely ageless.
Then, gently kiss in soft fading stillness.
Winters day lull in early calm slumber,
veiling life into a frosted wonder.
2/26/2019
al·ter
verb
change or cause to change in character or composition, typically in a comparatively small but significant way.
Haven't you stolen enough kisses
and broken too many girls' hearts?
Haven't you played crazy games
with beautiful and rich dames?
Playboys never apologize,
they stand on their pedestal...
until lies make them fall
and sorry looks dramatize!
Charm lasts through youth,
then it fades from the eyes
and becomes bitter untruth
as age is shown on the faces!
Playboys never apologize,
they stand on their pedestal...
until lies make them fall
and sorry looks dramatize!
What can happen to a playboy
who still chases after women?
Will he be satisfied completely
and settle down with one woman?
Playboys never apologize,
they stand on their pedestal...
until lies make them fall
and sorry looks dramatize!
After a playboy has fun with a lady,
he searches for more, he will ignore
the one who loves him and waits at home;
and betraying her, he hurts her deeply!