Long Real Poems
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From a very little age, I have loved birdatching. before we go on a trip, we used refer some books and write down a list of birds to check on. we actually gave up this habit after several of our successfully planned trips had to be canceled due to disastrous weather. now I'm 15 and my friends think I'm nuts, but I still love birdwatching. we note down the birds in every trip and make a big list of the birds we've seen.
I have seen...
. IPH
. CS Eagle
. Sp. dove
. Col. dove
. RW lapwing
. Rv bulbul
. BHIbis
. OM robin
... I don't remember all, but the list goes to some number near 200...
*it's tiring to write the full names of birds when you just see them, especially when there's several birds in one place, so we devised for ourself a special abbreviated coding system, which may or may not give out some hilarious meanings.... anyway, here are the real names of the birds.
IPH - Indian pond heron
CS Eagle - Crested Serpent Eagle
Sp. dove - Spotted dove
Col. dove - Collard dove
RW lapwing - Red wattled lapwing
Rv bulbul - Red vented bulbul
BHIbis - Black headed Ibis
OM Robin - Oriental Magpie Robin
Guided by the free at heart, I pray I'll find my way.
To wander lost, amongst the stones, I find it a dreary day.
Though worry not, strength and love run deep in me.
Eventually, I'll find Serenity...
"Tis a girl I seek, Bright eyes, blue, that at times put the moon to shame.
Golden hair and precious voice, a heart of love aflame
A lover, and beloved, can she hear me call her name?
Serena...my Salina, come help me find my way."
So speak my mother from a dream as I lay amongst the stones.
I try to recall my mother's name, and I try to find some hope.
Guided by the gentle voice that woke me from my dreams, I try to find my path in things.
I'm still lost amongst the stones, and it’s hard to continue on my way.
I feel as though that this is the dream, and that gentle voice the real thing.
What will become of me?
Will I ever have my mother’s caress, will I ever wake from this dream?
The stones around me are stuck in the sand, a redundant pattern set on repeat.
To live to work to love and then die…that isn’t the life for me.
It has no meaning, to me.
II.
We then walked back to a bunker,
a vast complex deep underground,
I stared at it all, astonished,
as the robots lead me on down.
We went to an old conference room,
and the lead robot met my eyes,
asked,”How did you survive out there?
It’s been decades since mankind died.”
I said,”Is that what happened here?
Did you rebel and kill us all?”
said the robot,"We’re not evil,
And played no real part in your fall.
“How is it you do not know this?
It’s all quite recent history?"
Seeing his look, I blurted out:
“I’m from two thousand twenty-three.”
Now the robot looked quite surprised,
called in fellows to talk and scan,
appraised me with their instruments,
all struggling to understand.
It took them nearly an hour to
accept that I was from the past,
but the ‘strange energy’ clinched it,
the lead robot sat there, aghast.
“I would not think it possible,”
he said with his voice all amazed,
“To think man figured time travel
way back in those primitive days...
“Now I think I can understand
why you think we killed your species,
those were the stories you told then,
we’ve preserved all the old movies.
“But we are not the reason why
the human species is no more,
we’d never kill our creators,
that was done by the meteors.”
And then the robot ‘caught me up,’
I’d leapt forwards four hundred years,
mankind had invented A.I.,
but it hadn’t brought the old fears.
The machines now had sentience,
put them in the same boat as us,
should they do right, should them do wrong,
what belief do you choose? What cause?
They’d not been slaves to mankind,
we’d not repeated that mistake,
in time they’d became citizens,
they’d voted and they’d had a stake.
Life had existed much the same,
with all of the ups and downs,
man and robot lived alongside
in all of our cities and towns.
The robots never really died,
but they could never reproduce,
Small in number, but ever wise,
if lacking the vigor of youth.
The humans had the numbers edge,
and the creative temperament,
pushing frontiers the robots could not,
but lacking in real permanence.
Each race filling out the other,
society working quite well,
until the day the meteors
plunged the whole Earth right into hell...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
If I jumble words around
playing with the way they sound
Hoping for a thought or two
getting it right out of the blue
Think to much and it is dumb
or maybe silly and fun
Could I bring a smile
make you think for awhile
Bring a tear down your chin
clever start and smart end
Have I got a chuckle
or bring about white knuckles
Do I have the skill to thrill
tone it down to be real
Fantasy or just love
inspiration from Above
Do I even dare
jolt down feelings of fear
How much of myself to share
would someone else care
Why do I enjoy
writing poems to toy
Simply to see
if anyone will read me.
How to be real with urself?
What is keeping me here?
Love or happiness?
My love for her spans 12 years
Memories are abundant
Good times & bad
We have lost a child to God
Guilt for wanting to leave fills my soul
I feel that her attraction for me has been lost
My attraction towards other women grows
The affect a divorce would have on my children
The pain that decision would create
Is it worth it, for me to be happy again?
Part of me still wants to stay
That part is fighting to see the light
Every day it feels like I am drowning
As humans we crave love and the contact of another human
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush
U already have one that is for sure
Should I risk trying to catch the others in the bush?
Constant internal battle
Loving who she was
Not loving who she has become
I have changed also
Not for the better in all aspects
Many mistakes have been made on both sides
She struggles to keep our family running smoothly
I struggle to make sure bills r paid
She wants more
I want more
Niether of us will admit it to the other
Sex has become none existant
My sympathy for her feelings is fading
My guilt for wanting to leave grows
My children stay in my thoughts
Will they hate me?
Will they still think I'm a "good" dad?
Would they see me differently?
Am I a coward?
Is there a right time to let go?
How long should u fight for hope?
All these questions and no answers given
Tomorrow brings more of the same
in to the wilderness
wandering
mountain&plains
seeking
directions
to a promised
land
a generational
journey
of idolatry
epic
in length
a rondo in words
of
eras of revelation
kadesh to moab
in stops&
starts
a triadic
device
inspired
by a source
so divine
songs&oracles
and mosoretic text
narratives
of drama
comedy
ritual law
in
organisational detail
values
at the deepest
level
of sacrifice&festivals
in
symbols
of
significance
at the heart
of
worship&
liturgy
in a two-way
channel
to God
*****
meanings
relevant
then
lost
in the mist
of times past
without
explanation
self evident to all
culture compliant
in
poetic metaphor
immolations&illusions
on a
road to holiness
the real visible prescence
of God
pillars&fiery clouds
His permanent possession
exemplary
in cleanliness
constant
in His care
examples of
instruction
principles of typology
in the cycle
of grace
&judgement
revealed
during
the passing of time
now paralleled
in modes
of devotion
in
His powerful hands
led&
guided
my shield
&
strong
deliverer
Foreword: I wrote this poem while listening to Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty Waltz. The lines were pretty much impromptu so please be considerate when it comes to the wordings. Thank you :)
Once upon a dream,
You thought it was all real
But can't you see that it is
In fact purely imagination.
You try to hide it,
Disagree and deny it
But one cannot really stop you
It's all up to what
It is you believe or not
You shut everyone out
Stayed inside that dream
Afraid for it to end
Like a wonderful symphony
That's bound to play its last note.
You waltzed, allowed it to sink in
Sooner or later you'll realize
It was all just a dream
But no, you kept dreaming
Smiled to yourself
You thought I was joking
Or did you know what I meant?
You started laughing
Gave me that look
You knew something I didn't
I tried to comprehend
But you wouldn't let me in
What were you dreaming of?
What's so great about that dream?
What does the real world lack
Compared to that transparent world?
You seemed content
Filled with peace and joy
Then everything became a blur
You tried to tell me something
But couldn't make out of it
Your words spluttered out like anagrams
I listened once again
But then I woke up.
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there
Some say you are the best one,
sure have you a try,
you got curves that imprison
every straight man’s eye.
I thought we’d find our own path,
to see each other’s worth,
but we were just so different
that it all felt like work.
Both sides of every issue,
soon peace and quiet died,
sought solace in the bedroom,
the sex a pleasant lie.
Suppose we learned the hard way,
that lust just ain’t enough,
yet replacing you, my dear,
has proven rather tough.
They’re not like you,
no, not like you,
but that may be a good thing
from my point of view.
What I must do,
find someone new,
’cause I can’t love you again,
we both know it’s true.
You startled at loud noises,
and I own several guns,
you think all the bears look cute
while I’d shoot every one.
You’d say thought the whole world
loved people just the same,
I’d point to the daily news
and ask, ’Are you insane?
You’d call me names like ‘fascist,’
I’d say, ‘You’re much too soft…’
We’d argue ’till we got turned on
and make up in the loft.
But I’m not longer twenty,
want evenings without stress,
hard to know it cannot work
when you still top the rest.
They’re not like you,
no, not like you,
but that may be a good thing
from my point of view.
What I must do,
find someone new,
’cause you can’t love me again,
we both know it’s true.
Never knew love could mean
living with open wounds,
I craved your touch, and you mine,
but it was always doomed.
Some may call it tragic,
and some may call it real,
when two people are drawn close,
but they just cannot deal…
They’re not like you,
no, not like you,
but maybe that will save me,
so what else can I do?
They’re not like you,
these women new,
how does a man start again
when all fall short of you?
You made my life surreal
can't tell what's fake or real
Right is wrong and wrong is right
I just got to be with you every night
Your not a habit I can ignore
You leave me crawling on the floor
I can't escape your hold over me
Your all I want, feel and need
I am addicted to you
I am addicted to you
Nothing I can really do
I am addicted to you
Like swimming against the tide
Your hand alone lets me survive
I can't face alone my heart of blue
I beg your embrace to get me through
There's nothing I can really do
I am addicted to you
My thoughts are not my own
Without you, I am raw to the bone
If you leave me I would crawl and fall
Without you by me, I'ld suffer your withdraw
I shake and shiver, I cry and quiver
If your love from me was sever
I got it bad and that ain't good
I need you more than understood
All I am or hope to be
Is only with you loving me
I am addicted to you
I am addicted to you
Hold me tight the whole night true
I just can't live without loving you