Long Mostly Poems
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IF ONLY I COULD
If only I could turn back the hands of time,
at bends of my journey those mistakes done
or mandatory works whichever, left undone
might be sought out not sure, making life sublime.
To turn back the hands of time If only I could,
so many hurried decisions I had taken
under compulsion, situation to be shaken,
might be rectified not sure, to do what I should.
The hands of Time If only I could turn back
I wished not to let you go ever at any cost.
Nothing could compensate what treasure I had lost.
In sports of life I was thrown ruthless out of track.
If I rewind my past to analyse profound
I see, mostly I was victim of circumstance
beyond my capability and competence.
Even going back, I couldn’t change my background.
10/08/19
Second Place
'If Only We Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time' Contest by Silent One.
BRUTAL COLD DAY EARLY FEBUARY
Almost as cold as the week before
Six feet of snow fell late in January
Please Mr. Winter, let it snow- No more
BEAUTIFUL COLORED DAISYS EMERGE FREQUENTLY
Mostly throughout the season of spring
When most everything is green- completely
When eggshells break and birdies sing
BEACH CARNIVALS DELIGHTFUL ENJOYABLE FUN
Young ones playing games outside
Sunbathers tanning 'neath the sun
A nice time for a summertime ride
BEAR CUBS DIE EVERY FALL
I found one dead out on my range
One died last year too, if I do recall
Must be something to do with climate change
Madagascar where did you go
For weeks you came to my picnic
My sanctuary
Unceremoniously and unwanted
And mostly uninvited
Like the proverbial red ants
Like a lover I once knew
Everyday ... there you were
A lemur
A chameleon
Perched on my blanket of poetry
Staring with those curious eyes
Yearning for validation
And perhaps a future visit
I must admit you're a nuisance
A pop-up, a laugh, a nightmare
For weeks on end I saw your faces
Burning in my memory
Trolled and uncontrolled
Now that you're gone
I look out the window
I imagine lions, giraffes, and rhino's
Running wildly towards my picnic
connie pacheco
10/20/22
Note-for weeks on end, I would come to this site and be inundated with ads. The Madagascar ad takes the cake. Lately it's gotten worse.
So small about 9x9 feet
No running water, easy to keep neat
The churn set next to the chimney
There was I, anger within me
Come butter come, isn't this fun
I don't like doing this
When will it get done
Finally dipping out tasty yellow
Yellow butter to butter biscuits
We could not afford toast
Definitely not Triscuits
Sometimes pork roast
Life was hard and mostly lonely
It helped me to make it in life though
If I had known how life would flow, if only
In understanding I could grow
Up there on the large old farm
When I was so very young
Where life could be a charm
But there my childhood was hung
The test of time
When they look down on you
Just let them be
They don't deserve your worth
That is if they know your value
Don't get angry over every rejection
Some are also in your favour
Take a time to study who you are
If you found out who you are
Grow it and go for it
This is the biggest remedy
Of life
The test of time
No all that glitters are gold
But use every good chance properly
Some times we can't be up to date
But make sure your mind power
Never lose focus
We are meant to grow by time
But it depends on what you will grow with
Challenging time are always around
It doesn't take time to be in them
Despite how good or strong you are
You can't run away from
Yourself in life mostly
From the act of
The test of time
It was a summery San Francisco evening.
Dressed in tight jeans, I was the modern mother
taking my daughter to the first and last concert of our youthful days together.
Though we sat back in the general admission seats of a huge amphitheater,
the excitement all around us was palpable.
The audience, mostly women, screamed with delight
each time we heard the first few notes of our heartthrob’s songs
exploding, immediately recognizable, from the speakers
strategically placed around us.
The sky began to darken as lights played upon the stage,
enhancing our idol’s chiseled features on the wide screen above us..
No longer able to contain ourselves, most of us were on our feet.
As the beat from the band pulsated through us, body and soul,
we became a mass of swaying flesh, uniting ourselves
with this enthralling performer in the only way we knew how.
Unable to stop, I let the music guide my hips inside those skinny jeans
as I stood there grooving to hit after hit after hit!
That night I was sexy, free, and forever young,
and I was one with them all
in pop rock paradise.
Oh I remember when I thought
I was in control and could see
Then the Lord showed me
How blind I was not being free
Now that He has opened my eyes
I want to cover my eyes
And just listen to His voice
For mostly everything else
Is a bunch of clanging noise
This is for fun I could not resist this picture
But indeed this is how I feel in the deception
Of all that is going on around us that many can't see
To much division and religions to adapt to mankind
The gospel was not intended to pick and choose
To accommodate the corrupt ways of man
But to separate one from their old self and evil desires
Their lustful hearts and minds,
To be changed with the spirit from Christ
Into a new creation with new mind and hearts
Purified of all impurities so He might reign within
The gospel of Paul living in the spirit
Should be what one shall aim for
To have instilled those thoughts and spirit
But I understand we must all try our way first
Hopefully it does not go so good you become
Your own shrine to give praise
I thought my life was going good
Until I began to read the words of Jesus for myself
Then I was in awe of what's going on
What are your most winterish
critical trauma events
in these most recent
three millennia?
Why
just my traumas?
Why not their corresponsive
therapies
for restoring EarthJustice?
Please go on
and on
questioning my questions
seemingly without end,
like an arctic wind-blown
starless night
in eternally restless January.
As you say,
and, but for this grand analogy,
you would pay dearly
for your unsprung youth,
Back in pre-colonial daze
of sacred tribal glad,
mostly naked clad
reunions
Fall harvests produced fertile gratitude,
more of a positive
win/win attitude.
In those last warm and golden times
of nature nighttime naivete
some Governor,
a Wise Elder, perhaps
No matter how Patriarchal,
would deep dream
to set defenses against
each sacred Other
Yet pantheistically inclusive Mother Earth
could not feel ripe
or right, apart
Summer fullness
and winter dormant absence
fail to positively correlate
Earth's spirited spring minds
and physical womb-falling bodies
with metaphysical,
sacred bipartisan,
deeply thoughtful
yet hibernating
frustrated feelings
failing to confluently
and competently understand
Communicating
and excommunicating
across seasons
and present seas
of sacred vulnerable immigration
integration
creolization,
followed by thoughtfully transparent
slow-grown emigrant sacred status
rooted in wisdom
and freedom to grow copassions,
not mere freedom from
some other kindless
kingdom
Immigrating/Emigrating EarthTribes
exhaling summer's sway
away
migrating winter's WombDream play
back in to sacred circling
and recycling stay.
Thanks for that,
Aunt Eartha.
Sounds like less of a summery answer
and more of a deep wintering question.
Yes, my dear,
and what does winter taste
and look
and feel like?
Restoring Earth's
not-quite-so-everlasting
seemingly endless
cold white privilege,
Thawing into
more spring/fall balance,
green/blue global
hibernating
matriarchal,
yet apparently dormant,
sacred honed ecologists.
Sorry, Aunt Eartha,
drifting off,
wandering in winter wonder
EcoTherapy, once around again,
regenerating global
GoldenPlaying Peace
Within this silent wintered star's
bright prolific night.
These days my home is a disaster where no neatness is
mastered. For years I did the spic and span scene for a
spouse who notices only the TV screen and our part alien,
completely annoying teens. I eventually deciphered my
efforts made none of them nicer or wiser.
I realized that to remain a cleanliness and organizer striver
would sooner than later require I take a daily tranquilizer.
In time, I learned my bed was a welcoming desire and the
art of long naps was my perfect mood equalizer. So, why
brood over other family member’s feelings when my own
felt much nicer.
There was a time when dust bunnies reduced me to shame
but, now they’re just fluffy cuties that I individually name.
Whereas I once frequently behaved like a total grump
because all treated our dining table like the local dump,
I now idly ponder when the pile will style a solid ceiling
thump.
Home-nest chores with potential upset tests no longer
interest my new style, but soaking in the tub attracts
my delight worthwhile. My bathroom has become my
private, pampering isle. Magazines to thoroughly savor
tempt me in a dream-flavored pile. Within that little
room I’m managing a pampering cocoon.
Once upon my stress time, I would be cryin’ over clothes
not ironed and family tried neither soothing or inspiring
me. These days my ironing policy is that such is pure folly
and that only washing machine clean attire need be desired.
I no longer grow vacuum sore ‘cause rooms are too trashed
for dirt to hit floors.
I am learning to keep my child-like, spontaneous smile
despite any and all house or family trials. If in this lesson
I succeed, that’s all I really, truly and mostly need. I wish
to live and love centered in a state of relaxed ‘cause that’s
where my spic and span are truly at.
The only thing I still see going in you
is a small piece of your heart
That love for one another
left behind for your own dart
Where all you knew of love
was a simple plan
Just to love a man who loved you
and a fold of land
While you never stopped to wonder
what of love unplanned
Where the others all around you
were the grapes you fanned
And the wrath of God who'll tell you
that there's other men
Who you opened up your heart to
Who included then...
Were the brothers of your heart
who you'd kept it for
All when dating your own man
that you left for more
When your love was never worthless
and was meant much more
And your trust was never faithless
as you're worth much more
As the love for who you loved
was never meant as sure
When your love for all your God
is a love you're sure
And he'll take you to a man
when he's filled you sure
That your love for only one
means your heart is pure
And the one you chose to love
isn't meant to match
But see through you for the loveless
where your failure passsed
And to take you to the higher ground
where you won't ask
Does he love me for the moment
or is he cost task
For your love to flourish mostly
from the knowledge dear
That your kept by love who'd rather
see you free to fear
When the love that you are feeling
is a love quite grand
All encompassed by the lord
and his holy hand
So you go on to his living
in a world to stand
For the love of one another
where your love is fanned
By the flames of all the others
who would see you pale
To the love of only one
who can see your tale
Where your love is all for him
in a package frail
And you stand up for the wind
in a love he'll sail
For a love for one another
where your sure to be
Just the only one who loves him
just for being he
And you go about your business
being all he has
When the love you feel for others
is the love he'd pass
Every moment that your with him
for a love to last
For the moments that he loved you
for all you are cast
And you're solely loved for you
up until you're clasped
By the love you feel for others
filling him with bast
When you know all love's for others
when you hold him tight
And you know no loves a man's
till you see him right