Long Fall over Poems
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Come February
This is the last day of January 2026
It has been a long month; my surgery took
more out of me than I thought
I have shrunk the trousers' legs too long. I have
to fold them so they do not fall over
I have been thinking of Ernest Hemingway
He had a gun and knew how to use it
I never had a weapon; one needs a license, but I could
Say it is for protection
If I ask for one bullet, they will say I need
a clip, how many bullets are there, six?
I'm painfully sober, a glass of red wine wouldn't
Come a miss, I'm optimistic with a drink
Again, I think of Ernst Hemingway, who avoided
the indignity of old age
In my dreams, sitting by the fire, listening
To the sigh of winter’s whispering
Just beyond the window, a mystery
Breathing laughter through the heavens
In stars, shimmering messily, like they
Know what it is to be glowing just beyond
The reach of the sun, in the shadows
They erase every doubt with their brilliance,
Shining in echoes, inspiring prayers
I know the meaning of whimsical
As my paw presses wistfully against the miracle
Snow falling, flakes glistening in the distance,
Reminding me that, even in winter –
Beauty from His blessing tree fall over the earth,
Silencing the doubts that linger in autumn
When all around, trees are losing their hope,
And dreams start their early hibernation
Like me, feeling the weather’s chill, the still
Cool winds and storms, the season
That brings me into a deep sleep is the same
Season that brings me such sweet peace
It happens just after the snows begin,
When the gentling of rainfall has changed
From dripping liquid to drifting, gliding, glistening
Graceful flecks, like music notes, coasting
Aimlessly – wandering over the mountains,
Across the meadows and, sometimes even
Through the entrance to my abode, the cavity
In the mountains, surrendering to me…
A home…
Where the deep sleep has brought me
From the dark days of winter into the serenity
Surrounding this wistful piece of nature’s
Reflections into what only God could have stirred
In the heart of an animal as wild and eager as I,
Taking me from the desolation of winter’s bitter cold
Into dreams that forsake every storm with a kindness
Only found in the rich life of a dreamworld,
A dreamland where my heart is inspired, my soul
Delighted by the imaginings of an early spring,
The reminders that tickle me awake some days…
As I forget the winter and evoke the image of spring
Because it is true – that in every life –
Winter is not forever and my slumber, though
Pleasant, will not last either…
Afterall, just like you – bears like Spring
sunbathing too!
Winter is not Forever Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
January 21, 2023
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)
Spring whispering through sunlight and hope
Plowing rich soil in rows – dirt awaiting tender seeds
Beginnings of lettuce, corn, tomatoes, cantaloupe
Breeze kissing cheeks, soft caress supplying needs
Promise of blessings raining down through the haze
Warming prayers on gentle hearts who God reads
Mild brown eyes from a cow whose milk will amaze
Sensitive to my Pa’s urgent nudge, liquid streams out
Enriching the spirits and nourishing calves who graze
Chickens peck the powdery dust sprinkled with doubt
Worms and slugs bring sustenance to the hesitant beaks
Roosters bide their time in the barn awaiting a handout
Seasons fall over the farm like an old quilt, thawing weeks
With joy that only comes to the one whose memory of home
Is like a vibrant painting splattered with tender, rosy cheeks
Breathless landscapes spoken into life by feelings who roam
The silence with songs of praise and beautiful rays of inspiration
Daring the dreams to believe and hearts to savor the honeycomb
Life on the farm is a wonderful world that brings great elation
It was here, on my Grandparent’s farm – that was my foundation
Writing Challenge - Past Memories - ''T'' Forms Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
October 11, 2022
She rides on a "star ship" high in the skies
embracing creation of her wandering star
cheerfully greeting her guests.
Some pleasant and chatty,
some on occasion she may ask,
“Please don’t fall over me.”
Hawaii is where her heart lies; “a poet’s gift”
and island of poetry that inspires her soul,
of orange sunset, against sublime radiant blue "ocean whispers,”
and "romantic reflections".
She strolls up and down the tan beach,
From "sunrise to sunset shadows"
enjoying the feel of warm grains of sand between her toes,
breathing in the whole innocence of beauty
as tears of joy blend in with the cool briny sea.
A place of timeless harmony
In "God’s presence"
her peace of "heaven’s realm"
5/22/2021
Title Wave Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
A tribute to Connie Marcum Wong
Her poems are inspiring
05/10/2021 Star Ships
05/07/2021 Romantic Reflections
06/04/2020 Heaven's Realm
05/13/2020 Sunrise To Sunset Shadows
01/18/2020 God's Presence
07/23/2019 A Poet's Gift
08/09/2019 Ocean Whispers
She has red lips and dimples
round rabbit eyes
brushing hair
waving over a broad forehead
is coming
her slender legs are long
The ends of skirt sway over lap
Her waist is an ant's
Her breasts are making the softest curves
Her neck is neither long nor short, neither thick nor thin
Her face is as round as an egg
Her nose is neither arrogant nor servile
she come closer to me
moment passing by me
But my eyes still following her
i fall over I stand up without shame and raising head
Then a woman standd in front of me
sat down clouds from the blue sky
her head and saggy shoulders
Broken and worn jacket blowing in the wind
and hold in her right hand
She leans on an old cane
She takes a step that is difficult to take even one step
catches a breath for a while
she talks to me
a furoshiki in left hand
As she lays it down at my feet
she talks.to me
"Can you deliver this to my daughter in front of us?"
i get her gift
I take her hand and start following her
keeping the best distance.
I come to your bedside once more,
you've poured our photos and poetry on the floor
an act of apostasy, a grim admission, the room in dim depression,
laying on your side , cheeks heated and soaked in sorrow, your joy in remission,
Refusing to look at me, as if seeing this face would invite a fatal grief,
hating me yet loving me because I am the wound waking belief,
a living scar fueling faith in the survival of our love,
needing me to be your spiritual shove,
I lay along you, gripping your tender arm, still, you do not disarm,
the tip of my nose surfs the skin of your shoulder, I smell the tears of my harm,
trying to explain that love is never wrong, that in your heart is where I belong
you roll into my chest, a gorgeous heat of anger escapes your glare,the sting strong,
in a fevered whimper, throat bubbled, you ask, how can I dare love you in absentia,
how can you love a kiss that cuts, a breath that bruises, nails of nostalgia,
oh how love makes us suffer for the truth of our hearts,
I say, there is no absence within the Absolute, a fusion of soul parts,
The onomatopoeia of my heart is ready to be splayed into you,
I kiss bite the supple muscle of your neck, you release a searing sigh
the air spiced with the oil of a woman's want,
I need the salvation of your hot opening, I yearn to super charge your core,
my balls, plump and heavy fall over your thigh, breast spread softly,
your hands enveloping my back, heels hooking around calves
the root of my Being swells to true and thick form
red oak stretching into your moistened magenta earth,
tenderloins contracting, pushing, smacking,
a metamorphosis matures to cure our crisis,
I can see in your eyes a soul that flies
on a light beam without ending,
one touch more and death will be a thing of lies,
rebuild love with me and find warmth never wanning,
we become Angels with no age
lovers without rage or confusion,
a new universe of raw pleasure and instincts sage,
dreams witnessed in the sweat and steam of sacred revolution -
J.A.B.
I stand in the aftermath
between the oscillations of time
wondering idle thoughts of you
I feel my mind haunted by
the passing moments of you
like passing effigy’s funeral parade
idle images n bright photographs
only your shadow hides in my mind
as time lingers on by
these moments caught in apathy
have you seen the leaves drifting in time
turning the colors of Crimson, amber, sublime
see orange fires, a hue of Oblivion’s season
watch then fall over and over again n again
thinking only of you, only of your hue
have you ever seen
the snowflakes suspended
in time, caught in the cold air
before it leaves this moment
down, down, flutters, and spins
melts away
how can you dare
Not understanding what I bear
all along my stair
I see you in the flowing night
It jars my mind
filled with ruminations
deep in my eons primordial form
I stand in the glare of the oncoming light
floating in your eyes, drifting in your smile
I stand in the aftermath
between the moments
of you n seconds of my wrath
linger the idle images of you
dividing the turns of the hand
into moments divided
into some infinite
infinity of parts
the black flock of the clergy, pass
I see you there in the snow
as it drifts upon your hair
the church is bare
all have left the service
streetlights flicker on
I stand in the twilight watching
wander away, not saying a thing
feeling the snow, fleeting
linger in the air, feeling your shadow
linger on quietly n despair
I stand in the aftermath
between the oscillations of time
wondering idle thoughts of you
I feel my mind haunted by
the passing moments of you
Laughing, lasting violet truth
Conspires to rest in tender youth.
Embracing the silence, delighted
Feelings trembling, so excited.
Wherever she goes, her heart knows,
Joy fills the night as the wind blows.
Stilling the skies with softest starlight,
Gentling the words that poets write!
Quiet thoughts, soft words who smile,
Rest on the feelings meant to beguile.
Singing of a destiny filled with joy,
From a heart, a soul, who’ll not destroy.
Quivering and quaking, her heart soft,
Reflecting on the music – a tender waft.
Glistening into the night, eternal moon,
Resting with stars God’s hand has strewn!
Restoring peace with His soothing grace,
Knowing a love that time won’t erase.
Budding hope from the seeds, always growing,
Abundant love in the heart, softly glowing.
Wintery blessings fall over my dreams,
As inklings of light rush over rolling streams.
Never a snowflake more thrilling than now,
When wherever I look, I see an ashen bough.
Pulsating like the bird’s breath, I arise,
Lauded by the night – stirred by the skies.
Even in the darkness, there is a beauty,
Potent pleasure beyond what’s her duty.
Stilling the kisses of an evening’s mercy,
Blowing soft against the star’s controversy.
Wonders in hues of cobalt shadows,
Pouring over spirits – for bardes to compose.
Wherever I go, I know I’ll meet with gladness,
Because there is no doubt, He’s taken all my sadness –
Left me with a heart so full, I’ll surely always comply,
Knowing that, because He lives, I shall never die!
Thankful to the One who lived and died on a cross,
Without His saving grace, we’d know the darkest loss.
Thankful for a love that gives me a way beyond this dark,
Into eternity, where His love is heaven’s hallmark!
As day breaks for one and all
for i see the gentle snow fall over the grounds
i take your hand
we walk for miles upon miles for our smiles never go
as you fall the gentle snow seems to tell a story
your eyes so blue
your face look so new
the smile seem to laugh out to the world
our body's in twined to each other
a powerful thought
love is for one and all my friend
as i hold you i never want to say goodbye
for i don't want my tears to fall once more
so my love please stand bye my side .
5th october 2010
I guess the question begs for an answer,
at what age does our life start to plummet?
When do all of those eager years of youth,
reach the peak and fall over the summit?
I wonder how old do we have to be,
before we will begin that downhill slide?
Towards that predictable river’s bend,
where uselessness and old age now reside?
Someone tell me exactly when it is,
that I will be knocking upon death’s door?
Face the fact there’s no hope for a future,
and stop asking for just a little more?
I have to admit some good days have passed,
maybe I am far from my youth filled prime.
I’m not going to sit and watch the clock,
waiting for it to sound its final chime.
Some people say I am over the hill,
others say that is being way too kind.
I say that growing old can just kiss my ass,
because age is only a state of mind.