Long Leading role Poems
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A fine adventure awaits,
Divine ventures of fate,
Propagating experiences,
To grow and advance,
Each chance you take,
Makes waves in the expanse,
Dancing among our decisions,
Precision placement,
Meant to be on time,
Primal emotions drive,
Striving to fill needs,
Thriving within entities,
Surviving was meant to be,
This present moment,
Was sent from Eternity,
And meant for you to see,
A glimpse of your journey,
Learning you're truly free,
Earning who you want to be,
Turning the key to the heart,
Restarting the engine,
Envisioning a fresh start,
Taking part in reality,
Knowing the Art of Duality,
Individuality my best skill,
Each hill a different climb,
The adventure of a lifetime,
Sublime in all its ways,
A Divine Venture in which we play,
The Leading role everyday.
In response to my fellow poetess, dearest friend and soul sister, Jennifer Proxenos, inspiring poem “I am Virgo”
I am Virgo too
A September woman
thriving in her Autumn
learning not to sigh over her spring
and summer too!
A gift of Faith
willing to heal her aches.
Her mind, a master in deafening woes
tracing what is fake and low
dwelling in the borders of her heart
making a permanent entrance
nostalgia, dreams.. with a sword
crossing out!
Growing in the shade of Beauty
a giver, her leading role
a leafy tree behind the stage.
Silence, a joyful companion
Time, her friend and foe!
Human connection of a spiritual dimension
What a painful perfection!
The passion within
empowering, awakening
denying her Self a life!
Fine, wise souls
ever attracted to
her beauties wouldn’t for granted take!
Perpetually restoring Self and peace
With Love
I am Virgo too!
Stallion
Mighty, was his look,
rendering tall, as he provokes.
The attraction that he emanates drawing to its taming,
which we sought.
A stallion as he stands,
the silhouette is what we have seen.
It was that of a wild horse
waiting for his taming to prevail!
The stallion's tone took when the animal did near,
wanting to be the tamed horse, captured, he is safe.
A depth that can take,
when there's something to be profound in, it's deep!
Alas, we come to an end;
there comes a disruption in this snare.
It's what he felt from the enclosed corral,
though he hurls out from the gate, did he escape?
The stallion gave flare from his stance,
which the tamed horse,
a leading role of the animal, he did ride.
Revised Edition February 3. 2021, 4:45 AM (EST)
The soul has many facets.
It can feel empty, can feel whole,
Broken or mended...
That's the tenderness of soul.
When a heart bleeds for another,
When hateful deeds turn one cold,
When love compels kind actions...
That's the tenderness of soul.
When attachments form,
When compassion takes the leading role,
When the bonds of love grow stronger...
That's the tenderness of soul.
When one feels tired and weary,
When poor health takes its toll,
When one begs the purpose of their fight...
That's the tenderness of soul.
When nature makes a spirit soar,
When a sense of humour finds things drole,
When two hands join and fit just right...
That's the tenderness of soul.
Tenderness is vital.
It's a quality of old.
Tenderness makes us human.
It will make ours an appealing soul.
Written 17th November 2021
For the "Soul" contest.
Sponsor Robert James Liguori
History paints a cruel and atrocious picture of human failure.
Unbelievable acts of hate leave a trail of pain, tears, and shame.
Mankind has behaved like the animal kingdom in many respects.
Acknowledgement has been granted for much of our human evils.
Nevertheless, we must continue pursuing human rights with diligence.
Religion, admittedly and unfortunately, has played a large and leading role.
If the truth is told, religion, especially Christianity, is also a healing force.
God is Loving and Good, entrusting his creatures to act in good faith and love.
Harmony and unity require taking ownership, and not blaming others.
Time is a friend to all who are willing to change and make amends.
Selfish acts of greed and hunger for power are pathways to destruction.
120421PSCtest, Human Rights Poetry, Robert James Liguori. 3P
We fell in love but could not see how roles for us would change.
Until a child was born to us, and the “us” was rearranged.
In came a little child and my role became “producer.”
With so much more to do, things just are not like they used to.
I lost the role of leading man, I am center stage no more.
The time and much attention, is on the baby she adores.
It is hard to fight the feelings that accompany the change.
I’m a father now, a server…what we had seems so estranged.
I truly love our little girl and the time and care she gets,
Yet I truly miss the times alone and the nights of tenderness.
I love to hear her laugh and see her grow so tall,
Yet I miss the dates and closeness that was ours throughout it all.
I feel blessed yet I regret to lose the place I used to hold.
Blessed to have my family, yet I miss my leading role.
Please remind me you still love me, tell me I’m your leading man.
Let me know that I still mean as much as when we first began.
I know this sounds so selfish, egocentric, full of “me”
But I think you too remember just how close we used to be.
There is a way to draw us closer; we must fight for time to share
Because together we are stronger than what only one can bear.
Lord, give me strength and servanthood, to live my role again!
In self-pity I had left the stage, Lord bring me back to when…
I courted her and cherished her; when romance drew a spark
And passion burned our hearts anew to love like from the start.
Give us both a fresh renewal of the love that lives within
And help us to remember, we are “one” to live for Him.
I feel that old rekindling of what drew us both together,
It was time together, just for us; always and forever.
Time to understand and learn
by changes that not return.
Applicable and unforeseen
remembrance of what have been.
Giving the selfish shadow a rest
and nourish an ethical best.
The force of life the gift to care,
replace that machine what keeps you stare.
Time to return to a sacred glance,
taking the leading role in the living dance.
Enrich those smiles as long as you can,
with tears of joy where it all began.
The waters of integrity carry every reach
while the waves of false hope dissolve at the beach.
Time and all one can give so silently,
living stardust by the future to see.
Then by natures law in splendor swore,
this sacred dust carries on and nothing more.
When in doubt in all that gaze,
to remember a rainbow in that haze.
The individual light is the myriad of a struggled world,
where the great soul knows to dwell impearled.
This genteel lady contemplates,
A pensive glance across each page.
Her book by choice; deliberates.
This novel from a bygone age,
A sad romantic love affair.
With wistful smile, then vacant look,
Partakes the comfort of a chair.
As perfume lingers on the book,
Imagination will impart,
This fantasy inside her head.
A young girl with a broken heart.
Her handsome suitor, she thinks dead.
Some time goes by, more teardrops flow.
With gentleness i brush her face,
A smile appears and then i know.
Once more she's played with style and grace,
An actress with the leading role.
Sweet memories, are fading fast,
This library, it soothes the soul
Since days of splendour, long gone past.
She waves and curtsies; no ones there.
A far off voice inside my head,
Broke memories we both did share.
Wake up! It's time to go, it said.
8/ 10/ 2015.
The lines written in happiness are now flames dancing within me,
A leading role that turned me into a ghost on divine stages.
A forgotten radio play, without a director to guide its way,
Piano notes float inside me, echoes from a particular realm at bay.
Is it pleasure or fear that I feel in the depths of my profound being?
The awakening of madness, a mix of cries and deep silence, agreeing.
With trembling hands, I cling to the thin threads of reality,
A paradox opening my path to the labyrinths of eternity.
It's a bewildering paradox I live with every passing moment,
A book written by me, yet burned, leaving cold ashes in atonement.
How long will I wander this road, without a place to rest my head,
Always moving, knowing there's no home where I can be led?
I am a traveler lost in time, a dreamer without a clear aim,
In search of meaning, a longing in my soul that never fades, never wanes.
In the stream of consciousness, a silent song is born, struggles, and breaks,
And in this silence, a melancholic magic, a destiny that never forsakes.
Where did she go
I knew of her, had seen her in adverts wearing short hair
being, sort of dubious sex, let them guess and smoking
a cigarette with the fragrance of the oriental express, yet
here she sat in a pavement café drinking Pernod, and as
Russian tanks rumbled through the stone cobble streets
she coolly beckoned to me to sit on the chair at her left.
I had a cold beer and lit an American cigarette, feeling tired
had carried a heavy suitcase across the town for a woman
claiming to be an actress, I had hoped she was a spy and
I needed information about troop movements and all
I got was stalk about her upcoming film “La Strada.”
On the opposite wall across the café, a movie began
a film about Rome and a gang of youth stealing bikes
Vittorio Gassmann had a leading role that was delivered
with aplomb about the question of the value of morality
in a society that has lost its bearing and is crippled by war.
A sudden blackout it might be caused by the Russians
but the restaurant used to this stoppage, producing candles
and the flickering flame from hundreds of candles made
the night romantic; the Monte Carlo woman had vanished
like cigarette ads on the TV screen.