Long Snowing Poems
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The Christmas Cafe
I scratch my nails
against my head
and
ponder a while in thought,
but my soul turns bare
And Death twirls
his curled hair.
Taunting me
as my breaths
become caught.
Caught between
the living and the dead.
A cafe with dim lights,
like some sort of spiritual
dread.
Snow blankets the ground,
Raucous laughter is heard
As I see you cross the room
But don't say a single word.
Instead I conduct
A choir in my mind
And wonder if you'll come
To my own short demise.
But here in this place,
I swear to you it's safe
To whisper words of praise
to the left-behind days
Where you and I betrothed
We swore we'd never leave
And now that we're
Dying out in the cold
we can both pick
white lilies to grieve.
But you couldn't handle
the words and the ink.
And now that we're
a second out of synch,
Our very last winter,
for us, it crafts this;
A cafe caught in the middle
Of a wonderland bliss.
Where we can still meet our eyes
crossing over down the hall.
Where we can
Still
Pretend that once, we had it all.
But as I reach my gaze to you,
I seldom pass out of the blue.
You reach into your heart and pull
it from your chest to mix
with mine and the falling snow
And then, too late, you rise to go.
I pull you under blankets
Of death and grief and hell
And just before you go,
The door twinkles its last bell.
The shop is closing up, you see,
Except for its last ghost with me.
The pub empties
out into the street
The people socialize and scream
For they can still
ignite their dream
with our once burning heat
at the level of our true decree.
But none of that's found
in the cafe today.
And the door slowly closes
as you find your own way.
And the night starts to fall,
Gentle leaves flowing from trees
standing tall.
The branches are bare, and inside
there's decay.
But our souls still rot on
to live another day.
Just like our hearts,
As the beating won't start
But perhaps we can find some
Comfort
In knowing
That as we look out
at the cold winter snowing
That Christmas lights dim
And the faint choir hymn
twinkles gently on
underneath the same moon.
And perhaps the soul will at last
alight
As in different worlds, we
count the starlight.
Finally
Accepting
That we'll both be dead soon.
An old lady sat near a window, near a window looking out.
With her radio going she sat there sewing, with an occasional look about.
On her thumb she wore a thimble, as she pulled the thread so nimble, enjoying the
light,
While the weatherman’s voice was blaring, declaring a storm in sight.
She began to hurry, and to worry about her Sam.
Had he heard the early morning warning from the weatherman?
While she sat there stewing, the storm greater brewing, she thought about her
man.
“He could work much longer, if only he was stronger— he does the best he can.”
The skies grew darker and her thoughts grew starker in the afternoon.
“Upper air disturbance; expecting turbulence with night coming soon.”
While she debated, the storm accelerated from the north.
With clouds unloading her thoughts grew foreboding, as she paced back and forth,
Qualms of duress she expressed about her Sam.
“Was he wet and freezing? Was he cold and sneezing? Poor old Sam!”
The northern air was gusting as she began thrusting shut the door,
From freezing rain fast falling, while for Sam she was calling as she paced the floor.
Back at the weather station a strange situation was spreading forth.
Not so far away an arctic foray pushed from the north.
It hardly took a wizard to see the shaping blizzard hiding every star,
A whirling cloud formation showed its concentration on the isobar.
Suddenly she started walking, while talking to her Sam.
Once she stopped to listen, ignoring the snow that glistened— then she ran.
She must’ve been unsightly as the lights shown on her brightly from a car,
Driven by her daughter, doing things she taught her, searching near and far.
“Mother! It’s me, Mabel. You know you’re not able to be out in the cold!
Look how hard it’s snowing with the wind so cold and blowing. Forgive me if I scold.
Finding you not there, I looked everywhere up and down the street.
You’ve come too far, so get in the car and dry your feet.”
“Mabel . . . Pa went out this morning . . . but he had no warning the weather would
be severe.”
“Oh, my mother dear, please come here, come here. Dad’s been gone a year!”
Suddenly the old lady was weary, her eyes old and bleary, her body weak and cold.
She had no coat nor jacket, but in her hand a packet—Sam’s picture she did hold.
There is a Glass Sea, a dead ocean,
It is snowing again but it is barely September.
You blend seasons like colors because I want to breathe again.
A tantrum breaks the sky open
and oceanic shards
divide the sand up into billions of stars.
We lie against wet grains with soaked
bodies and we pull the lifeless masses
from the shallow.
We call ourselves saviors even
though we don’t believe it, you hold
onto your seashells and I think to
myself that I must love you.
The sun is full, the equators cruel
the equinox is fanatical as a phoenix,
gold leaking around a cold square persistently,
we praise the orange
like it is melting.
Something dark claws at my eyes so I’m begging,
"tell me who made to blind fold, baby
Lie and say it was someone else."
You paint your nails and you smell of marmalade and zest.
You call me boring and we laugh because
"I hate you, baby, and you are my best friend."
There is a part where I push you hard against my wall and you cry for me.
There is a scene I am ashamed of.
I need to be needed and I want to be seen,
so I admire your eyes as if everyone else is featureless.
There are heads of sand,
heavy dunes bulking up and protecting all
they’re aware I will cause harm to.
I don’t remember being violent, I used to share my dark chocolate
and made bouquets out of butter flowers.
You are here with your wide prairies and deep forests and naïve blinking-
You are an embarrassed catastrophe-
stronger than the underestimated should be.
You would pin me down and knock me out,
I don’t understand why you are here now.
I hate things I do not understand and I hate things I find easy and so
I slap you like you are nothing and so
I slap myself because you are something.
My intestines are composed by the weeds of this bay,
Irish moss inks into my skin like dirty periwinkles.
Snow dusts pillars by the hospital- I promised myself I wouldn’t think about the hospital.
Spring washes over me, I do not the recognize the air.
I stick my tongue out to taste for something invisible.
There is a pet cemetery in my front yard- I bury biomedical clones with delicate touches.
I hold my love out and you sit at my door.
Snowing tonight ~ whispering, luminescent, dazzling,
Air misty, heavy ~ wind calm, serene,
Sights outside blurred, indistinct through the hazy window glasses,
Rooftops getting blanketed with white laces ~
A picturesque winter wonderland,
Treetops embellished with silver ornaments,
grasses caressed by soft touches of snow,
My heart is with you,
Craving for the profound tenderness of your company ~
If only you knew.
At the first demure light of dawn, open my eyes,
It's only you I think of.
In between numerous mundane chores,
Multitude of unavoidable responsibilities,
Hours of running meaningless errands,
I ponder about you.
At the end of an arduous day, before retiring to bed,
who fills my heart with magical dreams?
You ~ and the twinkle of your eyes ~
If only you knew!
So far away, exuberantly exploring unfamiliar countries,
You are immersed, building a meaningfully bright future,
Surrounded by charming delightful folks,
Sometimes a mysterious dream may wake you up at midnight,
You wonder why!
I write and write, pour my deepest thoughts,
My innermost hopes and desires, pains and agony,
Spend sleepless nights until my eyelids droop in slumber ~
If only you knew!
October 25, 2020
For "If Only You Knew" Contest (Second Place)
Sponsor: Silent One
Snowing tonight ~ whispering, luminescent, dazzling, romantic...
Air misty, mellow ~ wind calm, serene,
Sights outside blurred, indistinct through the hazy window glasses,
Rooftops getting blanketed with white laces ~
A picturesque winter wonderland,
Treetops embellished with silver ornaments,
grasses caressed by soft touches of snow,
My heart is with you,
Craving for the profound tenderness of your embraces ~
If only you knew.
At the first demure light of dawn, open my eyes,
It's only you I think of.
In between numerous mundane chores,
Multitude of unavoidable responsibilities,
Hours of running meaningless errands,
I ponder about you.
At the end of an arduous day, when retiring to bed,
who fills my heart with the warmth of magical dreams?
You ~ the twinkle of your eyes, the passionate soft kisses~
envelop the breath of this forlorn damsel,
If only you knew!
Sometimes a mysterious dream may wake you up at midnight,
You wonder why!
I muse and create, pour my deepest thoughts,
My longings and desires, pains and agony,
Spend sleepless nights until my dreamy eyelids droop in slumber ~
If only you knew!
Edited " If Only You Knew" - Sponsor: Silent One
For "R" (romantic) Old Or New Contest
October 5, 2021
Sponsor: Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
living in this house gets weird in the winter,
we just live here now, the two of us, me and babby.
well, I guess it’s not just us, always sleeping is the cat.
whenever it gets a little gloomy outside we get out the split peas
something feels so wrong about making soup in the light.
whenever i ask if she needs help cooking she lets out a laugh
god, how warm i feel when i hear her laugh,
her smile and the soup makes a summer day in winter.
in our kitchen our landlord put up a light
that is absolutely horrendous and red. “i hate that light, babby”
“yeah, i know. but it does give a nice red hue to the split peas.
they look like blood clots” she laughed and that woke the cat.
stretching her black and white body, complaining, the cat
meows. drowsily, she almost falls out of her chair and i laugh.
“i thought cats were smart, but Eloise is dumb as those split peas”
“don’t be mean!” she scolds. i shut up at look at the winter
through the window. “it’s snowing, babby!”
i tell her. it’s coming down softly. “well the snow’s light
“and you know it’ll never stick if it’s that light.”
she’s such a realist. so instead i go ask the cat.
“i need the real news from you Eloise. babby
says the snow won’t stick. will it?” from the kitchen i hear her laugh
the cat meows and i smile. “she says it’s gonna be a white winter!”
“she’s just telling you so you give her a treat. these split peas
are too small. what is even the point of split peas?
peas are small enough.” she turns around to find the light
switch. she turns the blood clot light off. “winter
is harsh enough without that stupid red light. the cat
hates it too. i think it makes her mad like a bull.” i laugh
and think about Eloise charging up and sprinting at babby.
“do you think you’d be a good matador, babby?”
i ask but i think i know the answer. it’s no. the split peas
are really boiling now. “i’d be the best” and a little laugh
escapes. she knows she’d be bad too. i turn the light
back on. “turn it off” “one sec, i wanna see if the cat
would really charge us.” what’s not to love about winter?
each day inside we laugh. myself, the cat and babby.
the gloomy days of winter, stepping on spilt split peas
in the blood clot light, attacked by the charging cat
5/9/22
Let me change my toning
Skills mastered and others still honing
I am not droning
People to this day passed away from a stoning
Continually condoning
With no cease to cloning
It's become often and corroding
Occasionally exploding
All the while a struggle to break through the coding
Something worth noting
It's harmful not beneficial, yet constant doting
Still too much gloating
Evil agendas many have been secretly promoting
Originally got to the spot by boating
Then thrown overboard now saturated and soaking
The body would be floating
Due to bloating
But it was weighed down from others hoping
It'd never see the light of day, or an investigation probing
More or less
Cause and effect
Correct, I'm still pot smoking
Go ahead and ask me how my battle with alcohol is going
I start dozing
From overdosing
Little if any good that did like loafing
And postponing
As well as screens always loading
It's a joke, no I'm not joking
Still adding fuel to the fire with prodding and poking
Eventually leading to a struggle involved with choking
For one party the outcome was croaking
A process of life and death, living or decomposing
All this goading
And foreboding
Opportunity remains yet the door is closing
Either after it or just ogling
It's pathetic or engrossing
Having to do with an article of clothing
Or a sharp point dipped in a toxic coating
Meanwhile maniacal egos they're stroking
No I'm not joking
Like all the boasting
Is there such a thing as safety when danger is always approaching?
Treated like garbage it's gross to me
In the end it always benefits them mostly
Just the truth, not looking at it morosely
Homie
Pay attention closely
Instead of overlooking it all like it's bologna
Regardless of it being clear, rainy or snowing
The wind calm or harshly blowing
You're out of the loop or knowing
Impacting how waters are flowing
Endlessly on it's growing
Radioactive and glowing
Causing harm with no chance of slowing
This is what evidence has been showing
Whether or not it is the time of gloaming
To this day still roaming
It's worldwide not just in Wyoming
Like a rabid beast at the mouth foaming
Toward their desires always combing
With missiles that are homing
"Sometimes miracles happen when you're least expecting them.
Quote by poet."
It was the week before Christmas; it was a cold, bright snowy day
Told the kids we'll go sledging; unaware a blizzard was on the way
They all got into my jeep, and on the roof I fastened the kid's sled
Then in the large trunk I secured, our Bernese mountain dog, Jed.
I drove carefully for about five miles to where there were steep hills
We were well wrapped up from head to toe, against the winter chills
The kids and even my wife took it in turns going downhill on the sled
Then with bone chilling winds the blizzard hit; it filled me with dread.
I thought we must go home now or we might struggle to get back
Others had the same idea and were already driving down the track
The family got in the jeep, but I noticed there was no panting sound
Nobody had noticed Jed was missing and he was nowhere around.
I told my wife to drive the kids home and I'd go and search for Jed
I waved them off but I had some foreboding thoughts in my head
The images in my mind as they drove off were of all the kids crying
And what if Jed had met with an accident and he was slowly dying.
I searched through the dense forest, but he was nowhere to be found
The light faded and was getting dark; fresh snow covered the ground
I'd resume the search first light tomorrow, after a good night's sleep
But I was concerned it would be quite risky if the snow was too deep.
I didn't sleep very much, and thankfully it had now stopped snowing
Then climbed out of my warm bed and told my wife where I was going
For nigh on five hours I looked everywhere, but finding Jed wasn't to be
I drove home feeling very depressed, wondering what I'd tell the family.
On Christmas Eve we walked to our local church for a carol service
The kids were sad and they weren't singing; I couldn't help but notice
About nine o'clock we headed off home, it was a clear but cold night
Everyone was real silent and I didn't know, how I could put things right
We walked up the long snow-covered pathway, to our house in the dark
Then out of nowhere our Jed bounded toward us and gave a loud bark.
Written on the 4th December 2023
Falling, falling, falling
Always calling – softly, breathless,
On wings of flakes, so quiet,
Silence drifting, hallucinating,
Dreaming of the moments,
When heartfelt prayers are answered…
Falling, falling, falling,
Drifting in from the winds,
Soothing away the trembling ache,
Broken whispers of light,
Blessing away the darkest fates,
Alive, like the stars who ache…
Falling, falling, falling,
Always sure of the spirit’s wonder,
Arising, like the mists, winsome,
Blessing the truth who aspires
To color the heart in a moment,
When light fades, as the story worries
By pens of hope, pens of grace…
Falling, falling, falling,
Drifting through the maze,
A gentle music, playing
On the seas of white, tender
Like the music, playing,
Softest songs, peace all along…
Falling, falling, falling,
Snow like feathery wisps,
Seeking to shadow the hills,
Blessing the spirits,
Soothing the glitter of a sky
Promising the stars to decide….
Falling, falling, falling,
Remembering the promises,
An aching wind, glorious
Prayers prayed by hearts
Who see through the melancholy,
To the light, the forever silence…
Falling, falling, falling,
My heart soars through the skies,
On winds of blessings, wings
So alive, like the softest moonlight,
Pouring over the mountains,
In hues of sacrifice, words blowing…
Falling, falling, falling,
Stars tremble in the twilight,
Beautiful moments, fiercest words
Remembering the mornings,
When the innocent white glistens
Through the heart, through the silence…
Falling, falling, falling,
In wistful thoughts,
While spirits decide the fates,
Wonderlands, in hesitant praise,
Wishing, wishing, wishing,
Songs are written, stories fade…
Falling, falling, falling,
Descending, through the light,
Making their way, fates
Hesitant, like the praise, falling
From lips who can’t truly say,
Just how amazing His love, so I pray…
Praising, praising, praising,
As the night keeps awake,
By the flood of a heart who knows Him,
As loving Father, the way, the grace,
That is everlasting, like this praise,
Falling, falling, falling…
Everlasting, as is His heaven,
As is His love,
As is the wonder from God above!
WRITING IN A BLACK PERSPECTIVE
Why is it that someone's pain is felt pleasure to another?
I arrived with fears. I cared to find a friend, anywhere
But I wasn't taught to be my own; no school helped me to look within
I heard of God of deep blackness; with words, inciting light
One voice, one eye in our universe
My voice to converse felt crippled.
My family pools held many colors; warm as Caribbean sea breeze
Each person was of significance. Two were like gazelles, alluring
One was as dark as night, the other was near blinding white
Those in between were earth tones.
I looked out beyond decked windows. Multicolored Christmas lights blinked
Nonchalantly in dark of morning; snow was falling, and had covered bare
limbs of a cherry blossom tree- such picturesque view, i decided:
'On this most snowing, all white reigns supremely pure, as the black of night.'
The irises of my eyes were dark brown pools, merging with black pupils...
I was cinnamon; yet found solace in my shade of dark, no harsh light
Soft was my dark. No more depression lurked within. Mine eyes, my ears craved
Transparency; then came clarity. I understood triggers triggering depression
Revelations were as treasured as exercise. Fresh air, rain, sun, I was in awe of
My Higher Power's helpful hands- simplicity and clarity were blessings
I needed no Prozac.
At the start of a new day, I'd submerge in warmth, and baptize myself
I would bring soothing light to mesh with quiet dark
I would lounge, meditate, and pray. Sometimes I'd sing or hum a tune
I'd go fearlessly in the dark, knowing when not to rush
I'd go fearlessly near blinding lights, knowing where to focus.
Who am I? i am as soft as the sinews of you; yet steadfast
A dessert flower with dew of faith- even in winter
I am a flower, thriving like evergreen...
Amid histories fiercest touch to my roots
I know of grace, granted by the Source
Transcending me to live as never before understood.
I need not cry out my fears, in ways that let others fear
I must cry out injustices, so that others, too, may sing
I go fearlessly to face my fears, knowing scars are lessons learned
And good visualizations are as friends, not foes.
*