Long Lone Poems
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Title.
Grief
(A sad voice whispers)
And so beyond all what God or gods can even say or do.
We, too, will all someday mysteriously die deep inside.
Every day, when we're forever apart.
From those whose sweet memories we still in good faith confide.
From those, we truly love, living or dead, without any known religious or spiritual relief.
Those invisible ghosts to all known mortal watchers.
Depending upon your spiritual beliefs.
To become lone soldiers like so many others.
In a vast never-ending army.
At one and serving the non-judgemental grey lady.
The true queen of all broken hearts.
Called and known to the selected few.
The true goddess we are born to worship from the start.
Dolor.
For everything dies.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
She gave me a heartfelt glance.
I melted at the sight of her.
An antidote to my calm
Anxiety flowed through
As sweat oozes from my skin
Like an addiction, I kept wanting more.
Lost in thoughts of wanting her more
The fume of her fragrance filled my nostrils.
A lady of my wildest dreams
In my lone state
All I saw was her elegance.
beaming at me
It shredded my courage.
She was my weakness.
My Achilles' heel
My source of hidden happiness
My intoxicant
Tell it to the world.
She's going to be my kids' mother.
She who i build my world on
She's my kiss from a rose.
The light that brightens my darkness
Why am I the only soldier fighting in this war?
Can anybody tell me what I have been fighting for?
I have decided I need a break to do some self reflection.
All I have ever wanted is love, loyalty, and a little affection.
He acts like I am not even worth arguing for,
So why am I the only soldier in this war?
I am a P.O.W and nobody seems to care.
Don't they understand this pain is becoming to hard to bare?
I am starting to feel like I am the lone ranger,
I swear the man I fell in love with has become nothing but a stranger.
I don't want to be the one to walk away.
If he would just give me a sign that he wants me to stay.
I can't keep being the only soldier in this war.
My wounds are so deep and I can't take the pain anymore.
harsh cold wind howls
steel gray clouds low over head
racing quickly torn to shreds
merging coldly into the sea
whitecapped waves flung by the wind
ice cold spray flung in the sky
crashing down upon ancient stone
of ruined dock vacant there
pitted stone pillars of ancient stone
baring lint stones falling down
as the wind howls between
tearing at banners of what once was
empty square of weed choked stones
lined by buildings fallen in
devoid of people who once were
city empty locked-in death
long lost road passes by
overgrown by lining trees
pitted with holes of missing stone
a lone traveler passes by
traveling on a lost errand
cold and wet from passing storm
seeking shelter from the cold
see no hope in city dead
wondering of the city dead
lying upon the angry sea
lying in death no people there
wondering of what once was
how did the great city die
and stone harbor abandon be
what of the people who once here was
passing by not knowing why
It’s summer in Georgia, yeah, it’s warm.
In high school, they said Shakespeare
once called Georgia, "sulfurous and hot."
He wasn’t wrong.
The careless sky is letting in all of the heat.
We saw a TV news crew chasing a lone cloud.
The humidity is so thick, that the air is too dense for lungs,
but we bought a tool at Home Depot that cuts it into usable pieces.
Today’s ‘Webster word of the day’ is “glade,” which is funny, because
if you see an animal in a glade, it’s probably dead from the heat.
I saw a bird in flight burst into flames when it drifted from the safe shadows.
If you want me, I’ll be in the pool - or a friend’s pool. I taught Lisa
an old southern saying, “Lawdy Miss Scarlet, it’s hot out HE-ya.”
I love summer’s honest freedom.
My motto for the next two weeks is:
“Don’t give up on your dreams - keep sleeping.”
.
.
A song for this:
Don’t forget the sun by the explorers club
Don’t worry baby by Carrie Elkin
Cloud of despair rose from the seamless sea of sorrow,
storm surged from the dismal horizon of mind’s visage,
melted in many streamlets of tear to torrentially flow,
like the rolling rills of rain drops on the face of foliage.
All the dark clouds didn’t dissolve in the deluge of grief,
in a lone clump froze splinter of memory in emotion deep,
like the rain drop lying concealed in the fold of sodden leaf,
waited in me to wail for the promises I could never keep.
Before the ending of our pledged journey you had gone,
left forlorn, I crumbled within the debris of the fallen sky.
Hidden cloud clump melted in remorse, remotely known,
as it upwelled within me all the restraints I felt it did defy.
The spent sun set on strewn spoils of my shattered heart,
from dust of despair shards of my life couldn’t rise anew.
As the destined time came for me with the call to depart,
the cloud of memory shed the last drop of tear for you.
September 1, 2020
Contest : The Last 1
Sponsor : Anthony Biaanco
You walk on the winter wasteland for years
Reach the arms of warm sea with azure grip
Get cradled in embrace of happy tears
That is where you will fall in love so deep.
You see lonely moon span night sky hollow
The day dawns bright the sun arrives to lure
The dew drop on the lone grass tip to glow
That is when you will fall in love so pure.
After days walk on the garden path ends
Touch of hand gone emotions endure
Attachment grips the heart the feeling sends
That is how you will fall in love so sure.
If you know how to open the heart's door
In fond depth you fall for whom you adore.
September 10, 2017.
Help Me Fall in Love.
Some know love
from very early on --
a dedicated father and
mother, to keep a ship
right inevitable many a
challenging youthful storm –
First steps were
wobbly, but with parental
support, and caring steer~
the child grew steadily tall,
morally fit, a child who had
been loved from the onset
as others saw was quite clear --
Then there are those that for
one’s self had to mostly do;
relied on trial and error to haplessly
see a lone body through – little help
from outside caring source...and
if not for one selfless stranger
a child of God would have remained
tragically fallen, always to rise
stumbling, perhaps to go through life
hurting themselves and others for sadly
spiritually lost.
If of sound body and
mind, be alert for a soul less
fortunate as Love commands
us to find. When possible, be that stranger,
fate’s one hopeful spark, offer a hand
to a brother or sister passing – a plead
coming from one
once captive of the dark.
Who names a traitor? I will name a heart,
For hearts alone forsake the sought-for good.
The Captain Will surveys his seaman’s chart
To plot a course to guide his ark of wood.
Yet he forgets each sailor is a man.
‘Gin mortal foes a man be brave and strong.
Whoso is valiant, bid him join the van
To prove his manhood in the battle throng.
Yet, what fears that combatant beset,
Who, standing lone and single in the ring,
Beholds the trident and ensnaring net
Of him that is the ocean tempest’s king?
Aye, some outwitted Neptune’s rocks and ire,
Yet perishèd. What man resists the siren’s lyre?>
"and, as treason begins in the heart, before it appears in overt-acts, so he accused you as a traitor on that account, and therefore insisted you should be put to death" Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's Travels, Chapter VII
Making Love ???
Does it come from the heart ?, from a need ?, to create.
Is it biological ?, psychological ?, this desire to fornicate.
Is it Mother Natures, need to procreate, to perpetuate ?
Or is it man’s desire to feed Mother Vagina, to saturate ?
Could Love, be a deep seated desire ?,
to set the heart – lonely, a lone – on fire ?
Is Love, the gardeners need to plant a seed ?,
a wild child ?, that may become a bad weed.
The need – regardless – to feel is to love.
Making Love ???
Is all we overlook ?, tolerate ?, or rise above.
Soaring with the angels, flying with the doves,
reaching in, touching with tender, kid gloves
no matter the pain that tells of past, lost, Love’s.
B. J. “A” 2
June 7th 2004