Long Let bygones be bygones Poems

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Listen To the Warm

Below is a quote written by one of my favorite authors Rod McKuen. He has been one of my greatest inspirations and his book "Listen To The Warm" changed my writing style. I wrote essays about him in high school and have read all his wonderful books that took me on a journey where no one else ever has. Unfortunately he passed away February 2015. I decided to write a poem based on his quote.


"It happens just because we need to want, and to be wanted too,
when love is here or gone to lie down in the darkness and... 
listen to the warm.”  -Rod McKuen



I hear it so gently; the warmth of our silence.
For me and you, yes us two, we grew…
after all we’ve been through....

Be still, my love…

The observations we saw while sitting in our room,
reminded me of the yesteryears; old days of yore.
Let bygones be bygones and follow the warmth
we created in silence beneath two lover’s sheets.
"I'll always need you, my sweet."
As days go by and the nights come too quick
I hear your heart beat as I lay on your chest.
Ears connected to hearts, and hearts connected into
one, forever dreaming of sweet tunes only we
can sing.

Let there be stillness in our laughter, yet 
tears in our smile, expressing all the magic we have
built up over twenty years of warm silence. 
I may be clamorous during the day but
as the night closes in I will always be speechless
in your arms. 

Lay with me during the cold days and walk with
me in the warm. Feel my hand entwined
with yours as lover’s do so often. The only difference
is that me and you…yes…us two…
will always calmly subdue….

I’ll rest myself on your lap and you can hold
me until our daily routines begin. 

Please don’t go just yet, stay with me here,
I need you to breath and you need not fear.
I always had wondered and now I know why,
we were meant to be us since that night in Versailles.

So hush…sweet man…let’s do what only lovers can…
stay by my side, hand by hand,
Tonight we shall lay together as one,
and we shall wake up in the morning
as still as the sun, waiting in anticipation to 
hear with readied ears…

~listening to the warmth of our silence~

Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: April 8, 2016


Native Speaks Truths

Native Speaks Truths 

She's not your princess or your squaw;
She is respected clan mother of the Chippewa.

He's not your chief, buck, or redskin:
He is a proud warrior of the Algonquin.

We're not your fashion trend or mascot;
We are the original peoples, have you forgot?

Racism comes to us in many ways;
Often disguised with passive aggressive praise.

You demand that we forgive and forget;
And with your good book you preach and beset.

You say to stop living in the past;
But continue to treat us as social outcasts.

You claim that you've learned from what your ancestors did;
Yet you repeat it world wide and the truths forbid.

You judge my frustration and anger with ease;
But continue selfish ways and to do as you please.

You celebrate men who massacred my tribe;
Your holidays confirm your need to inscribe.

You cry that you are the current day victim;
That reversed racism is your affliction.

You moan that we don't understand what it's like;
But your greed has caused the mistrust and dislike.

All the while you refuse to admit;
That what you ignore is what you permit.

Are you so different than those that turned away;
While my people were the cavalry's prey?

How much have you really changed;
When history repeats and so much is still the same?

Perhaps you only wish to silence my voice;
Because guilt today can be a weapon of choice.

Does white privilege still exist today;
Do you still want us to assimilate and obey?

If I am bitter it is with good cause;
It is because you continue with hypocrisy and faux pas.

Should one day you learn that all lives truly matter;
I will consider forgiving the lives you have shattered.

When you can learn to love the brown, black, yellow, and red;
I will then forget the broken promises and the massacres you've led.

Until that day do not patronize me with lies;
I will only believe what I see with my own eyes.

When colonization is no longer forced upon;
We can then let bygones be bygones.

By:  Darlene Doll Smith
Form: Prose

Africa

Africa the continent…of incredible wealth …?
Through exploitation, corruption…and stealth…attrition felt…?
Called the mother land…are you a fan…?
The significance of tribes…the subject of their lives…
The stark of their marks…to the ranges in their talks…
From the spears that some bear…to the people who cares…
Reflections of hate…significance of faith…
The origin of slavery…where is your bravery…?
Colonization in nations…for western distributions…
With forced migrations…the development of other nations…
Transported in ships…landed on the tips…
Areas like North America…to Jamaica…and the Caribbean…
With barrels and cans…how to explain the master plan…?
A nation in fusion…an education in illusion…?
The mining of gold…many stories untold…
The illegal extraction of diamonds…is there any lies man…?
Large deposits of oil…is this a spoil...? 
Several dictators…who are the creators…?
The mind of the people…limited in steeple…?
The statistics on crime…no nursery rhyme...
Scars of many civil wars…like tumors…no rumors…
The bases…to the places…and the faces…
Some children…god's help them…
Spawned in the games…where is the shame…?
With rifles…their freedom stifles…
From Angola…to Nigeria…to Zimbabwe…international reports say…
From time immemorial…is this a constant ritual…?
Take stack…majority blacks…what are the lacks…?
How many states…do we have to wait till late…?
What is my date…is this what culture creates…?
United States of Africa…?
America…the Mecca…
How can you copy…the era of the floppy…?
Is it not gone…how to eliminate the scorn…?
Let bygones be bygones…move to the lushness of lawns…
Look beyond the dirt…search for your true worth…
Try to look within…and live without…
The violence…so intense…does it make sense…?
Africa…to whom will we call…
Mamma…?
Form: ABC

Premium Member Monopoly Poetry Contest

There once was a poet named Neumann
whose bile went as white as albumen.
He emailed a missive,
his ire derisive, 
attempting to yoke fellow humans. 

His target would not come to heel,
so then it became an ordeal.
Disguised as a contest,
he tried a new conquest;
to poets he made his appeal.

“Go public,” he thought to himself,
“and make the responses my wealth.
Solicit opinions;
Make poets my minions
to injure his confidence’s health.”

“I’ll leverage my feeble position,
a mathematical-poet magician;
They’ll write what I want,
and hopefully blunt,
because it’s the contest description.”

“To him it will seem that I’ve won,
with many usurping the one;
I hope he’s not clever.
I hope that he never
decides to stick to his guns!”

Now, what was this kvetching about?
What was it that made Neumann pout?
Contests galore!
Each day more and more!
From one he neglected to out;

I haven’t a clue who he means.
No monopoly here, that I’ve seen.
The contests are fine
(too slow, in my mind).
Not terribly sure what to gleen.

The authors will choose who they wish
from this bowl of colorful fish
that swim in the soup
and go loop di loop
when one of us says they’re delish!

As far as the soup going cold,
and quality starting to mold. 
It’s never been great,
not now, or of late.
A handful are more than so-so.

It’s all about writing for fun
and passing the time with a hum.
Now, more than ever
with Covid and Bad Weather,
our lines are more than their sum. 

So give this poor sponsor a break;
there’s really no damage at stake.
We’re all having fun.
Let bygones be bygones;
enjoy the contests you make.

Monopoly Contest
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
4/12/2020
Form: Limerick

What Can I Do But Forget and Remember You

Recently I haven’t had my mind in the right set,
had no relief from the anger and grief, 
a time to forget full of regret, 
swept me down like the Barrier Reef. 

It hurts not knowing where I belong, 
let bygones be bygones but bygones bite on,
exerting and showing me I’m in the wrong, 
but why would I try to supply hate all along.

You see I had a dream of white friends having a black baby,
it was meant to be black that’s how they’re born, 
funny innocent confusion made the dream crazy, 
they’re expecting so I didn’t tell them in the morn.

I told someone else, whom told them, making them mad,
they didn’t understand this stupid dream I'd had,
took it like I want their situation to turn bad,
and messaged my mum, telling her, I'd made them sad.

My mum not me, my friends they be,
told her, tell me, stop behaving horribly, 
so I just went and deleted them all,
they’d speak to me if they were my friends after all.

My mum carried on messaging, I was accused of being a liar,
note, a week had gone by and it was out of mind,
they accused me of taking the piss and acting slyer, 
but, I hadn’t thought of them, I did none of the kind.

And though I didn’t tell lies I did apologise,
I’ll make allowances cus she's pregnant, but she went to my mum. 
I’m insulted and confused as to how I'm seen in their eyes,
so for now, I try to forget, but think, is this the final outcome? 

Friends for years, close ones too, 
like a family was our little crew,
I must be seen different by you,
now weeks later, we still haven’t spoke, so what can I do.

What can I do, 
but, 
forget and remember you.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Africa, Refrain From Prejudice

This is a spanking New Year,
A year to voyage with greed of peace and affinity.
Let not your mutable hate blind you from good
But be good to let your hate transmute into humane neighbourhood;
It is time to part ways with the dark forces now
It’s time to live free –
No human soul should mourn no more. No eyes
should be shedding any more tears.
All hearts ought nought be hefty of unjust racial animosity that 
may lead to gratuitous xenophobic outbreaks no more too,
Or end up to a massacre of innocent blood that 
would stain and defile the soil of our land sordid;
O Messiah, prithee, I do beseech thee!
Aid this nation of Africa to refrain from prejudice and
immorality. And teach them never to harm those who are 
innocent for the deeds of others but to reconcile;
And to depart from wrong,
And to let bygones be bygones;
And teach them also to put paid to this obsession of calling their fellow 
brothers and sisters from neighbouring countries makwerekwere . . .
A name that’s convenient enough to answer their whim.     
Nor should they sacrifice their saintliness in order 
to satisfy their vindictive blood thirst:
Instead, in this beautiful year shine’st thou the sun
at midnight…The sun that would perish and subdue the threat of
shameful grievances that might befall my nation once again.
And rain thou the rain that shall slay this futile nationalism which subsists within 
the borders of Africa, and thus free the oppressed of their perpetual servitude,
So that they too can learn to trample down the moisture of 
continental freedom –
And so help AFRICA be, for no one wills to flee.

Unconscious Love

Romeo

'When truth can't help someone,we have to lie'
Until the moment our chance is denied

Mistress put Romeo's life on hold,
The volume key to his life low,
Romeo seems to be like a sheep, polled

It would well be said, he had been invited to the dance yet he lacked good shoes
A different path she chose

Their affection had been a clouding hanging over his shoulders,
Emotional turmoil he bears

Love cannot be clung to hope, for hope is for people who do not already live in grace
Hope hurts and love's painful, they both help us grow, yes

Life isn't life without pain

Romeo's window closed on the first day he thought he was born
On the day he met the 'Mistress' to cause him distress
Ahem! Indeed he bore

Romeo has lost 'them'
He has lost everything, he was chasing a ghost. Khem

Follow your heart
And it will betray you better

Girls, girls and women..Mothers
Absurd,wild personalities
Take a gambler's chance with these personalities,
Find yourself in the presence of many presence, realities
Dreams falling short, telltales !

Romeo, 'd'you wanna get back to the drawing board?'
D'you still wanna paint the picture on the board?
Well, the colour-blind is hanging with her

Keep your chin up Romeo,
You cannot find precious stones in a grocery store..Oh no!
Just let bygones be bygones for resentment gets old
Show no mercy, it is for the weak

Apologies for bringing sand to the beach'
And if I'm wrong, them I'm definitely trying to fix something that isn't broken.
And you truly have to specify why you think my imaginations deviate from reality
Form: Lyric

Blame Game

You want to play the blame game, I'd rather let bygones be bygones
But let's do it your way and just say I was wrong
I don't want to go back and forth, tit for tat, let's be grown up
Even though it ended bad, we should just be happy we've known love

Love turns to hate quick, but the hate is a cover up for sadness
The hate is on show to hide that we're hurt
It's easier to pretend we don't care, while we move past it
But we can't have a clean start if you keep bringing up dirt

These days when couples break up they act all the same
I don't want to be like them, going back and forth calling names
Let's just go our separate ways and accept we aren't meant to be
Don't hold onto things that didn't work, let your heart be free

I don't want to play games of who won the relationship or who upgraded
You're an amazing girl who I'm glad I've dated
Any guy will be lucky to have your love or see you naked
I don't want to go back and forth with games. Let's just create our own breakup playlists

Can this be it? Can we now go elsewhere without any pain in our hearts?
Our love was beautiful but there was a change in the stars
No one is to blame sometimes things have to end
I hope you find everything you're looking for my friend
© Alex Duffy  Create an image from this poem.

A Little Hope For An Addict of Dope

each day of living i let
go of the hands
that i called
when i should have bet
or remembered
when it was best
to just forget
gave away
with nothing to get
back 
stayed where i was at
when i should pack
my stuff and just move on 
let bygones be bygones
left it at that
squeezed and not pulled the trigger
aimed a little better
wore a t-shirt and not a sweater
turned on the tv and checked the weather
kept a friend
instead of just passing by
laughed when i wanted to cry
could have but didn't try
told the truth but it was a lie
walked away from a homeless man
when i should have fed him
or just gave a helping hand
turned the other cheek 
when being struck
gave it my all
when i was down on my luck
on my last buck
shirt torn and untucked
i can go on and on 
and on and on
with these things i regret
but i don't
and i won't
let them get
the best of me
i'll move on
adjust fire
live another day
to get up a little higher
because life doesn't 
come with a receipt
or a warrantee
there is no
money back guarantee
and i agree
enter at your risk
make a few mistakes
hope to grow
give and take
and pray
and pray 
and pray your heart out 
for the wisdom
and learning
to not go back in anger
Form:

Time To Grow

We are capable of so much more, is it not time for us to soar? New times ahead, we must look up high, and question ‘is our limit the sky?’

To stare at a glistening shimmer, refracting light like a mirror to turn our perceptions inner, and stop things getting dimmer. Look past the face to find a whole new space,  beyond vanity, shame or disgrace, a cosmic reflection of all that you are, the truth we are made by dust from stars. 

Not random and meaningless or without purpose, a frantic free-for-all, some chaotic circus, but serene and holy, divine and sacred, something special with intent un-wasted. As we progress to see a new dawn of time, self-loathing should become a crime, bowing a sin and judgement a taboo, if I had my way it’d be mandatory Kung Fu!

We are better than this, and that’s a fact, let’s let bygones be bygones and drop the act. We must evolve as nature intended, mayhaps we can become ascended?  Onward with confidence we reach the heights of the spirit, to look back and see when we loved, that we meant it.

I think it’s time to put on a show, show how far humanity can go, back to the source we’ll never know, unless we decide it’s time to grow.

© Copyright Ash Grimshaw 2013. All Rights Reserved.

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