Long Hoping Poems
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I am not a minority poet,
though I have known them on occasion.
Those who write a poem for school
or some brief love encounter
then never to pick up a pen again.
I am a majority forever poet
who writes or tries to write every day
at every chance or opportunity of inspiration.
Hoping to stir the mind and fibrillate the heart
in desire of expressing and revealing the soul.
Sometimes held hostage by some unknown, inner blockage
that releases when least expected but so welcomed.
I am my own poet
writing and rewriting until I get it right.
Trying to reveal the world
as it lives in pain and glory,
attempting to relay life’s wonderfully sad story.
I am the landscaper of emotions
seeking solace and laughter.
searching for that happily ever after.
I sent a message on a pristine cloud passing by
Hoping it won’t disperse in miles across the sky
Then, I heard you speak of color illuminated by the sun
I knew it was received with all the happiness and fun
Distance that feels vacant isn’t all it is said to be
Feelings reside in heart, dreams swept by wind to see
It is the knowing, like the constant air we breathe
Musical notes that always find a way to weave
Thoughts and emotions in melody that keeps on playing
Reigniting warm feelings that will always be staying
Far or near through storms and weather torn fear
Turbulent skies pass through, until they open up clear
In the silence of the last fallen raindrops to the ground
It is always amazing what can be seen to be found
Pristine clouds float with change into colors that shine
In a widespread open sky that is always yours and mine
Heidi Sands
10/29/17
Captivity-bound…I’m bound to be neglected for life
Without a single sound, tears concealed
I’m lost and found…juggling precious peace and endless strife
Left upon the cold ground, cheers unhealed
I’m still crazy and I’m proud
I’m still lazy and hazy and loud
I’m sorry I’m not that vigilantly hard working
At least I don’t spend my time, shadow-lurking
Hidden timidity…
Never gave me pity…
I want You to save me
With your loving glee
I want you to hold me
Knowing God will set me free
Longing for His affection
To lead me to His direction
Longing for His affection
To give me spiritual rejuvenation
Longing for Christ’s ressurection
To set me free from lamentation
God is my rock, my helper and shield
I’ve been spiritually healed, tears concealed
Over the years, I have been on the pillar of sand,
Hoping you’d understand where I truly land
I’m still crazy and I’m proud
I’m still lazy and hazy and loud
I’m sorry I’m not that vigilantly hard working
At least I don’t spend my time, shadow-lurking
Hidden timidity
Made me feel rather ty
I want You to save me
With your loving glee
I want you to hold me
Knowing God will set me free
Longing for His affection
To lead me to His direction
Longing for His affection
To give me spiritual rejuvenation
Longing for Christ’s ressurection
To set me free from lamentation
I’m a foolish man who longs for wisdom
I’m a youthful boy who longs for His kingdom
To give me spiritual rejuvenation
Longing for Christ’s ressurection
To set me free from lamentation
Longing for His affection
To lead me to His direction
Form:
Love can be blind if and when she chooses to be.
And I have come to know at least three types of love.
May I not rock the boat, but have I really seen blind love?
The love from above sees nakedly, and loves anyway.
The love from a true friend is like a custom made camera that developes a picture of you, but exposes far less than it sees in you.
Perhaps romantic love is most vulnerable when she refuses to see.
Romantic love, emotionally charged, sees through clouded lenses.
Nevertheless, it’s clear to me also that love sometimes serves us best,
when she withholds that which may well shatter our stable nest.
She will often reveal 'in part', in the interest of what’s best for us.
She opens the book of facts, but leaves some things to discuss.
She delivers from deep darkness, but withholds the brightest light.
She takes a back seat, more willing “to love” than “to be right”
Loves sees both weaknesses and strengths, but continues to build the bridge.
She hears rumors and tastes the bitterness; but still finds a way to make it sweet. She sees the imperfections and feels the pain, but loves just the same.
No, she’s neither ignorant nor naïve, and knows the danger of being deceived.
She’s just willing to keep believing in you, never giving up on you, ever rooting for you, ever coping with you. Ever hoping.
03262016 PS Contest, Free Verse On Love 111, Laura Loo 10/28/17; i st Contest, July Standard, Strand, NA
Diagonal snow
Glides effortless through
the countryside of the
Amputee windshield
For the passenger side
Has always had a reticent view
Steam rises loftily
From a topless treat
Of gas station coffee
That which further
Obfuscates the scene
Mousey and silent
Each flake falls
Like the wings of
An owl unhurried
Speckling the air
With flurries of tiny
Feathers
If snow is a blanket, is the
Earth a frightened child?
Is there a force, a specter
So haunting it summons
A crystal storm that beguiles,
Sure, a burden to some
But a spectacle for all.
High beams undress
The night, slipping away
Its silken onyx sundress
In its unblinking gaze I
Recall conversations with
Someone I no longer see
Hoping for fireplace romance
Surrounded in snow globe scenery
I try not to live
in the squall of regret
Even if every drop
Falls so softly, I must
Simply keep my foot
On the petal, and listen
To the engine’s counsel
Its kind whispering pistons.
When I look back at it now,
it seems we’re so far away,
from how we were baby,
back in the day.
When each moment was filled,
with either great joy or strife.
Stomping through existence,
filled with angst and rage,
like an epic novel,
when each turn of the page.
Brought another chapter,
springing into life.
We’ve had our share of smiles,
heartaches and tears.
Joyous encounters,
crippling fears.
Yet it was you and me baby,
just rolling through the years.
Those old days are gone,
don’t care if they come back,
because there’s nothing I need,
there’s nothing I lack.
Nothing I’m searching for,
nothing I’m hoping to find.
I’ve got all that I need,
just you loving me,
holding hands in the sunset,
sitting in the shade of a tree.
I’m blessed with happiness,
and lots of peace of mind.
We’ve had our share of smiles,
heartaches and tears.
Joyous encounters,
crippling fears.
It’s still you and me girl,
just rolling through the years.
I see clear skies and smooth sailing
until the end of the line
with you in my arms
every things gonna bet fine
as long as it’s you and me darling
and we keep rolling through the years
Don't you cry tonight
"Give me a whisper and give me a sigh"
Those soft words following the emotions in your eyes
exhale poetry on my whimpered dreams
Take from me all that I can give while
reaching for that sunset…a distant prism of light
"Give me a kiss before you, tell me goodbye"
Soft lips in sad shapes, downturned towards darkened fears,
moist as they meet in wilted wishes
Walking away…a silhouette of that which I long for
as tears drift on silent zephyrs
"Don't you take it so hard now and please don't take it so bad"
To know this feeling, I swear I don’t,
still calling out in echoed chants flowing naked valleys
Hoping you hear, praying you smile, asking you to listen
before the moon fractures in cosmic sorrow
"I'll still be thinkin' of you and the times we had...baby"
Eternal visions find you and me, hand in hand,
dancing on quiet shores, melodic surf rhythms
In memories of what once was, what should be
and the stars drip into anguished teacups pleading
"Don’t you cry tonight…"
Written with a little help from the Guns n Roses song, “Don’t Cry”
The italicized lines are lyrics from their song
Roses and lies
I need your love
Not your troubles
I need you in not out
Too long I knew you lied
But I stayed hoping
Life is beautiful
I knew that before
You took my love away
And left my heart beating
Waiting and crying
Roses and lies
I gave you me
I traded your heart
For my love
Nothing more nothing less
So don't leave me so cold
Life is too short to cry
My intension is true
I need your love
Not your games of lies
So Give me back my roses
With true love
Roses and lies
Despite you look beautiful
Yet the ugliness of your heart
Makes me bleed
I wonder what more you need
Cos I don't want to be
Who am not
When you lie to me
Am a man with a true soul
Please give me back my roses
With true love
Cos truly am in love with you
His hat sat
cocked,
toward his chin
like a swainish boat,
afeared in masculinity,
not coy; cocksure,
but rebuffing
the skeptical in-laws.
Sharp, his uniform,
raven-black, white t-shirt,
seriously buffed oxfords.
Did he even move his lips
when he spoke the script;
she remembers hers,
insistent on the promise.
“I do,” delivered. I doubts,
reserved past the honeymoon.
White the glare of the moon.
Spectator stars
keep their mouths shut.
An angel, with a sure smile,
rests her hand upon her chin.
She knows it will take a while
for claws to retract, to polish
their tongues. She has time;
they think they’ve none,
but they do “I do,” looking ahead,
looking back at the good times,
looking at future generations.
Hoping that the kids keep
their promises. An angel
has her eyes on them too.
War had proved granddad tough.
He told me never to bluff.
He said that living well is the best retribution
And a temper was rarely a solution.
But he said something else too
If there's no choice but action, here's what to do
Don't show your hand, even if your seethin'
Don't get mad, just get even.
My brother and I went to a Jersey town in our guide
Indians signed a treaty there under the oak tree big and wide
We started walking down a street, a teen looked mean and rough
I was afraid, so I forgot I must not bluff.
He asked me what we wanted, I later found people come for meth
But I was quaking in my shoes, afraid of pain or death.
So I said to my brother "Don't hit him!" hoping that would scare
The dude looked amused, blew a whistle in the air.
Three other guys appeared, coming from the hood.
One punched my brother in the head, but my brother stood
He had turned his head to see, that protected from the blow
The drug gang let us leave, but I had to eat crow.
My brother didn't get mad at me, but I was grievin'
Because he told the family, equivalent to getting even.
I was embarrassed, my reputation beyond retrievin'
I had tried to bluff a bad guy, with an act he won't believe in.
I saw that Jersey street in dreams for quite a while
That amused whistle and that mocking smile
I guess this is a story I should be concealing
My brother's bruise healed, but I can't repair the feeling.