Long Struggling Poems
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O, elusive muse, mysterious and profound bruise,
you bewitch my soul, never to be found in the way of former use.
In your absence, I am left with bittersweet
caramello pain,
forever longing for your ephemeral archery reigns,
to stick your finger in and frost your tips, lips, hips.
With every plié, a heart skips a beat,
as feelings pirouette upon your rage
and bloodlust and cage.
Each soft tendu, a love story paged,
imbued with passion's fire, never to age.
But doth wrinkle rings around my heart like a chain,
loosely at first.
Then comes your tools of torture,
your sandblaster-twirls deoxyribonucleiy
amidst a dreamscape host given wage,
unfurls, serpentor,
hyour body, an instrument
for efficacies' grand gauge.
Through leaps and bounds, love's whispers
take shape, like an hourglass shaken
to be thrown to the Leviathan sea.
Given over to the carcinogenie of winds,
carrying own lamp of photosins seeding plans.
Your occulant lids, occupancy Inn
unfolding a tale stolen from Wonderland
with narrator mouth agape.
Like a hellmouth opened revealing iron rows
of oscillator teeth, of to then throe.
I know there is no escape, but surrenders
oasiatic retreat of blue snows.
From your sire nyour cover of cape.
Spellbinding me to the elements
like salt in the wound to taste and one to grow.
O, ballerina of love, your steps mesmerize,
evoking metamorphic fertiles,
lilypad touchstone monads of diodes and control pads and padded rooms of the matrixed "mad",
making us crystals of your rites,
constellate consulates of your Medusaic petrify,
metamorphed from pieces of coal-
fitted for pressure, heat of becoming
from your diamond bit drill.
But beneath the surface of t h i s-
frozen-heartless veneer,
y o u r c a r o m i n g d a r k n e s s
come to take me away-
lies a fire, a longing, a blaze yet unquenched
Ignited by the spark of hope,
a steal cable between your wench
the yearning for warmth
worked by passion match.
There eyes an unaided flicker,
Me, the Wicker-man
struggling against your vice grip,
your tangle of betrathed lisp.
I am tied by your poetry,
your visa drip, feminine W I C C A - Beltane slip
of slip.
A bridge too far,
of golden vistas burning,
now, there is no return.
For me, only to find your drowning sea or burn.
All the broken people
I see them always when I go downtown
begging for money or sleeping in a doorway
I really want to help
and although I have not much I give
and wonder about them
like what brought them to the bottom of the pit
these lost and dirty beggars are a mother's child
once a sweet baby
I stop and talk a few moments perhaps
they are always thankful and say God Bless
I am one of the broken people
I am a broken inside people
just another damaged people
the looks normal on the outside sorta people
I am a keep away and build a wall people
just another broken people
I volunteer
at the local food bank
and all sorts of people come for food
young families with many kids
single moms and the elderly
the unemployed, the unemployable, disabled
the homeless ones are too many
the fallen in the cracks people
we give them lunch and food to take away
they are broken people
it breaks my heart to see the young people
I ask what are you collecting for
food is what they always say
so I buy them a sub, burger, or pizza
a coffee or cold drink
and I talk with them for a bit
each has a story if you care to listen
each has hope
I asked a boy, why not go home
miss, he said, it is better on the street
and that broke my heart
I am one of the broken people
I am a broken inside people
just another damaged people
the looks normal on the outside sorta people
I am a keep away and build a wall people
just another broken people
I see the elderly struggling with canes and walkers
trying to get their groceries home
it is really a shame they have no one to help
no child or friend in their world
I do help an elderly lady in my building
taking her shopping but it is not much
it is just one broken people
_________________________
June 2, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/broken now, now
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1027966
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted into the contest, Best Free Verse April 1 - July 15, 2018
Sponsor, John Hamilton
Fourth Place
____________________________________
Written for the contest, People
sponsor, Richard Lamoureux
Third Place
Inspiration- Broken People by Richard Lamoureux
Broken People by Rags'in'Bone Man, Video
The Old Rusty Gate
Old rusty gate stands as guard without fear,
sightly slant at the back of my garden.
Blue bell creeper leans on as iits barden.
But it serves faithful since long thirty years.
Great watchman dutiful not yet broken.
Through day and night it acts as sentinel.
Perch for bird: Path for running squirrel.
It raises harsh cracking sound when opened.
Otherwise no complaint: Perfect watchman
I feel nostalgic and can't change the gate,
though visitors to garden get upset.
My oldest companion: I'm lts fan.
Old gate has captured thick reddish brown rust.
But it is still robust sturdy and strong
serving me sincere since thirty years long.
Struggling with time looses lustre, draws dust.
I am calling mason this afternoon
The gate will be repaired with new fresh look,
standing proud guarding garden at back nook.
To be painted and polished very soon.
07/10/22
Fourth place
Choose one of five
Contest by Joseph May
Title chosen The Old Rusty Gate
A Brian Strand Premier Choice
Contest by Brian Strand.
Hustle:
Is not for him,
Satisfying Success,
But value on others impact
Struggling!
His look previews mind,
Tightening ways to a new start...
Who won't work to live,
But earn money while age knocks-
The old door of timing noon.
His struggle with time,
Has life's check to balance sky:
Airy wings to fly!
Greater
You I pray, boss!
Behind all obstacles,
That wish to lock up happiness'
Pure thrill.
Forget the toughness,
Though it is life's enchantment
To suit all brave souls,
Of common pleas pointing God-
Leading to connect with grace.
Life ahead unknown,
Sings of weary thoughts: heart's plea-
To find grace cum plus.
Wonder
Lies in your acts:
Moral measures might's miles
Of genuine care to teaching skills
Mastered!
It's beyond learning,
Or mastering enough as proofs,
For six months or years,
But of value to climb high;
Cum relationship with clients.
It is the real treat
That distinguishes skills learnt,
And character built.
Memoir
Lights my joy whole,
To remember your worth,
And impact of barbing skills learnt
Aright.
You barber my hair
In the presence of colleagues,
That can do it right,
To promote humility,
Among us of closed hearts
Who is yet to earn
Repute but only grasp skills,
To promote field's scope.
Happy
To have meet you,
I am not mistaken,
For nothing can measure moral
Taken!
Celebrating you,
Is awesome to capture new
Old memories view,
Out of every morrow's blue,
Foaming up living so true.
Sing sweet song solely,
Surrounding scars' shift scents.
Sanctuary spell's spark!
Dear mama can I talk to you for some time
It’s okay I’ll yell if you can’t come
Mama I’m in this dream that I do not like,at all
I’m struggling to cope my life’s blocked by this wall.
Everyday I wonder how to break it down, it’s so tall.
It feels like needles punched right through my heart and I can’t let that slide
Because it’s so tall that I can’t see you, you’re on the other side.
I tear down every night hoping one day the wall separating us will also tear down
But those tears have built a well in my pillow enough for me to drown.
Wake me up from this dream, it’s too filled with pain
Hold my hand, save me from my own slovenly brain
Wake me up, I don’t want to have this dream again
Until then I’ll let my tears fall down along with the rain.
From another tree about 10 feet away, I, a sparrow,
reserved 4 powerful words for an insect in the midst
of developing. She would become a butterfly, but it would
take some time. The insect was not requesting any assistance,
because she knew the cocoon process necessitated her development.
But as I beheld the painful-looking struggle, I wanted to do something.
So, at a distance, I observed with anguish and tied hands.
I had but four heartfelt words for the suffering insect.
My heart ached when I saw her struggling". At first, I thought
there was but one way to relieve my heartache and the insect's
suffering. But as I stepped toward the tree, contemplating taking
matters into my own hands, I, just a sparrow, was reminded by my
Maker that freeing the would-be butterfly from her present pain
would only curtail or even harm her future development.
So, with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes,
I lit on a close by limb and whispered through the cocoon,
"I am helplessly observing, but I FEEL YOUR PAIN".
012323PS
Flashing eyes hot with fury
she stalked up to him
furiously they argued
as she pushed and shoved him.
Catching hold of her wrists
he rode out her fury.
As she calmed he kissed
her with desire and passion.
At first she weakly pushed
him, struggling to be free.
Then with gentle sigh
she gave into his demands.
Now matching him with rising passion
she voluptuously returned his kisses.
As ardent as she had been furious
together they sank down melded together.
Their tender cries softly whispered
as their volcanic love fiercely burned.
Then drained to the core they snuggled
each content in the other's arms.
Hot beauty
Like a rattling dove
Whirling cocooned in a flood
Like thirst dripped
Onto the furnace
Of hot galloping wax
Into my tingling
Expanding fibers
On that balm-coated
Trembling cloth of canvas
In that moment when the flame
Flares up with a great heat
As a bomb exploding
Drop of wax is pounding
Sensuous broth is boiling
I am covering you up
With beeswax
With the honeycomb
This glaze of love
Wrapping you like a shroud
A spoiled brat in a raging heather
Prince on board
With his bluish temper
With his depraved rampant
In Perverse abundance
Lid on the lid of lids
This ark of passions
Tavern decays
Delusional Grieving
Monastery of Struggling
Sine Diagram Cosine Graphs
In contemptuous arrogance
In the flight of excitement
Shackle stick me to the ground
The unsurpassable ratio
The Unstoppable Quotient
Horizontal constant eight
Let out a giggle,
In the delirium of
Snickering laugh
The sand is pouring,
The alarm is beeping
Time is running a race,
Can’t keep up with pace
My relentless robotic
Endurance overtakes
Dwelling in darkness
I've known all my life,
I learned to survive
amid all of the strife.
Alone, I arrived in the air I would breathe.
Alone, I would choose in the web I would weave.
Drifting along the American stream
blessed to be born with the right to a dream,
caught in the current prevailing of time
when reason was lost and we fell out of rhyme.
My life will have witnessed the end of an age
when all of the dreamers must now turn the page.
For the nation of refuge and hope to be free
is nothing like what it was once thought to be.
Where the good of a man is deemed just good enough
if he adds enough zeroes to count all his stuff.
His wealth he would hoard with more than he’d need,
starving the children to feed his own greed.
The children of darkness whom long for the light,
knowing our weakness yet willing to fight,
for the hope to survive where the people are free
from the darkness of heart being all that we see.
A struggling world, though it needn’t be so,
where people ignore the things everyone knows.
Where eyes could adjust from the darkness to light.
Where the lives of so many could lessen their plight.
Alone as arrived, alone as I breathe,
alone with the truth of the web I would weave,
my dying wish still lives to be
as a vessel of light for the world to see.
J Minor
December 2019
Thank you guardian angels, for being a bright light through this life, like the stars in the sky you shine so bright.
Thank you always for being kind, for sending thoughts of positive energy when down, like rain, you wash away and make a new path.
Thank you for the many unseen love influences you have sent, like the energy flowing all around.
Thank you for helping to prevail, when struggling through this life on the way home to heaven, may we all see our way there.
Lifting thank you to God, to all the angels that work for the good of the world.
May we bow down in love and prayer to God to bless us with power to overcome all life’s struggles.
May this day the power of positive prayer and good intentions, be spread around us all.
Continue to guard us all the way home. 444
Let us unite the children of God, and pray that we all see the light. 333