Long Out of sight Poems
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I know so well the warmth of cold moonlight,
For night is home to all keen thought, blissfully unmaligned.
Helios holds no sway with me, his journey out of sight,
Selene, my muse, guides my sweet nocturnal mind.
Supine, I float, and watch my ethereal phosphenes fly,
Till epiphany alights and I feverishly spring to write.
Mellifluous the ring of ink, as the paper I glorify,
Eloquent with ease, till the sharp break of Aurora’s light.
The ephemerality of my life seems with my heart to brawl,
Under shadow, ponder I, if unturned I leave life’s stone.
Yet Nyx’s reign inveigles me like sonorous siren call,
And so I sit, to on paper bleed, on my solemn wooden throne.
To live and write in lonely dark is my god-given right,
I’d rather live to shine in shadow than disappear in light.
He is silly that Billy...a flow walker ...joy talker
He trots along so sweet some days
but then just turns and bolts away
He is an ever-ready arm embrace
but not so much for the long haul race
He is dashing as Santa and his sleigh
as you watch him keep you...... well at bay
His smile "how it twinkles and his dimples so merry"
lead you to believe it is true love that he carries
Oh the torch! How it glows and your feelings they flow
but as soon as he knows...
out the window he goes!
You fly to the rooftop to watch him ...drive out of sight
and crushingly learn he is more of a blight
than a heartthrob magnificent to hold close at night
So Go TO YOUR walking ...OH Billy BAH O
I am tired of talking ...to a big zerO
It is a poem nobody wants to write,
About what will never be right,
About those who think they have the right,
To take from a child all that is bright,
And make the sun disappear out of sight.
When something is so wrong,
Where do those who do this wrong belong,
And for how long.
It is beyond my understanding,
With the sun in my childhood mostly shining,
How one could contemplate this kind of undertaking,
And think they have a right to belong,
In the world free of any thoughts of wrongdoing,
When so many look forward to hearing the sound of children singing.
Yet we must write about this wrong,
Put it in a song,
For to reach even one, before they do this wrong,
Will encourage a better song,
About one less wrong.
That moved us further towards the light,
And a future that is bright.
out of mind out of sight.
it’s just my luck that’s tough luck.
Next thing you know Im down one.
Slow to erupt.
observing society fuss.
anxiety it’s all love it’s me it’s you equals us.
we all we need that’s enough.
told me to hush.
Sensitive to much.
it’s just my luck that’s tough luck.
absorbing everything like a sponge.
So we always in touch.
this that about such and such.
now it’s an impasse talk too much.
like attracts like,I am the company I keep.
still sleep. really. reemerge
show concern. how to discern.
value in disperse
I adjust debunk
it’s just my luck it’s tough luck.
If Mother Earth came forth today
she'd throw her hand up and would say.
"Oh, my dear world what have you done?
Look closely at what you've become."
Humanity with no regard
to live in peace can't be too hard.
Destruction, pillage, selfish greed,
all comes from want, and not from need.
You strip the trees; the soil is bare
You mine my lands without due care.
You take and take, do not replace
You slaughter half the human race.
You poison waterways and seas,
and spread around filthy disease.
You cut the throat of fellow man
what once was good, now out of hand.
With dirty politics you fight
make sure that love is out of sight.
Instead, keep taking from the pot
quite soon you will destroy the lot.
So, when I stop and look around
there's little joy that I have found.
Despite the crisis in debate
you're still at war consumed with hate.
And so, I'll offer my advice
before you pay the closing price.
The future is all up to you,
will just depend on what you do.
Be thankful that your still alive
but change well needed to survive.
What legacy you leave behind
Will be the mark on humankind.
It seems I can’t escape this plot, this telling of the tell;
a mandatory element is a first-person write.
Just don’t make me the villain of this sordid villanelle.
I much prefer to narrate from deep down within my shell;
I like to lurk in shadows and remain tucked out of sight.
Alas, I can’t escape this plot, this telling of the tell.
It’s not that I’ve got much to hide; that’s one I can dispel.
But making much about oneself: a war I’ve had to fight.
Just don’t make me the villain of this sordid villanelle.
I’d rather paint a masterpiece or cast a magic spell
With heroes bold and brave and strong, with maidens fair and slight.
Alas, I can’t escape this plot, this telling of the tell.
Or tales about redemption from the fiery pit of hell
with pastures green to rest one’s head on clear and starry nights…
Just don’t make me the villain of this sordid villanelle.
And so, dear reader, though I strain to bring you in as well,
I hope you can forgive a man’s self-referential plight.
Alas, I can’t escape this plot, this telling of the tell;
just don’t make me the villain of this sordid villanelle.
----------
for the First Person Villanelle Poetry Contest
sponsored by L Milton Hankins
written on 08/26/2022
Find a dark room that keeps out the light
One that is cold and damp, now throw me in and lock it tight.
I want to be alone, I don’t care, out of sight,
For in my heart, there is no day, just night.
I have tow friends to keep me company, “Loneliness” and “Pain”
They cater for my every need, and are honest when they say “Sid, you are to blame.”
Let me cry on pain’s shoulder as she shows me pictures of you
And loneliness laughs repeating your words “We’re through”
I’m content with that, I don’t ask for much,
Save the caressing feel of heartache’s touch
I don’t want the friends that ask “what’s wrong”
Then remedy my situation with a “you’ll be alright” song
Just let me be
Nothingness is what I want to hear and see
They say love loss heals
Rubbish! I move from rejection to rejection with wounds that still bleeds.
So lock me away, throw away the key
I’m happy this way, this is where I want to be....
This gift of life I was given
was chance not a decision
drifted far from others living
a scaredy pants chances missing
So here I go writing about this life I'm given
the indecision the empty soul and painful mission
No Hell no that wont flow
I'm a has been and have been
unhappy because I haven't been happening
Stationary boots rooted in
it makes me vexed fused and spasm
relaxed myself out of routine
a complete loss of enthusiasm
I've gone to far to ever come back
have I suck I won't have that
negative air shows me false facts
positive air on a counter attack
I have ambition to climb the peak
though cloud hides it out of sight
I'm on one now though I am weak
salvage pride and out to fight
Been knocked down locked down at rock bottom
so up's the only way to go
I wont be stopped because life got rotten
coming back is all I know
So when I talk of suicide
it's just to give my mind a break
cus I feel how I feel inside
eternal Hell's what I can take
Cus hiding doesn't mean defeat
it's survival through the act of retreat
you can't turn the cold to the heat
but seasons rotate and heat repeat
So I may be at a loss and beaten
but fear my butt cus it's still breathing
and though my soul's slashed and bleeding
my core's a core you should believe in
I will fight despite the fear and overwhelming anxiety
I challenge it it disappears I'll waltz back to society
Though I'm mift I've more to give
I live this gift this life I live
I dig deep for reserves with which
I won't give up like a beech!!
I, Nick Trim, will never give in!
You know it kills me to see that sad
disappointed look upon your face
Knowing quite full well I was the 1
who put it there in the 1st place
Just like how you instantaneously knew
just by looking at my face that
you could tell when I was lying
Or making something up to use as
an excuse to try and justify whatsoever
stupid thing that I had done
Because you ended up knowing me so well
eventually even better than I knew myself
And why you had to leave once you realized
something so broken and missing cannot be
fixed not saved by love alone
And then you left with my full blessing
on the premise from that second on she
never looked back or gave me another
single thought
I just hoped and pray you would find
somebody who could make you truly
happy and worthy of your love
Otherwise love then just may well be
the most worthless pointless commodity
barely worth giving up or recieving at all
Part II
So I am ever so sorry and sincerely apologize
For being such an insufferable bore
But I desperately need company at
night
As I can't stand sleeping alone
So much so I think i am afraid of the dark
And without you here with me and
your body to hold onto
This bed now feels colder than a coffin
full of nails which is slowly burying me alive
And I am suffecating underneath the weight
of all our happiest memories disappearing
out of sight
And wish though I may I fear this what
I am feeling now isn't going anywhere or
anytime soon
Neither is why love's makes us do such
silly stupid thing's
As hide our true selves and feelings
away just incase we get hurt
Yet still end up anyway
The truth is love is in part hurt and once
born we all open our own individual account
and rarely get the balance right
They followed a star
As time and place has its solution for all,
those wise men knew, that a messiah will come to call.
Recognizing those celestial lights with their eyes,
that history and culture will change its destinies by surprise.
Traveling with the light so bright no doubt,
knowing the new born king is the paramount.
Speaking of love to the depth in eternal height,
when the soul can reach all when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of being and the ideal of grace,
showing compassion and forgiveness of every day’s.
The comet prophesying the revelation by tragic and fortune,
then other kings did already fear its spiritual procession.
Gold, frankincense and myrrh as protection brought,
then the magi knew the trouble in forethought.
They saw the child with mother Mary and worshiped him,
sensing the cosmic conclusion in the stable like a hymn.
The heavens declare the hands of God and the sky proclaims his work,
no speech or language or any voice are heard, but his word.
The answers are in the vortex of my son as gift of compassion,
for all shall know the true lovers revolution.