Long Surrounding Poems
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A black stone with diamonds inside
She shines but you would never know
They hit her but she never falls
They whip her but she never breaks
Speed in her step even though they try to slow her down
Make her fail, just so that they can beat her down
Again and again
But they never get the chance
They tell her she's property
Meant to be owned
Planting plants that their too lazy to grow
In their eyes she's just a cotton-picker
But she knows better than to believe their foolish words
Black as night
But bright as a star
Hard as a diamond
Hard to break
Locked in a concrete box
That's hard to take!
She writes with passion
In the shadows
Hidden from her captures
Writing the truth of her sufferings
Sometimes writing away the reality of her captivity
White clouds surrounding her
Caving in
Watching her every move
So clear but so dark and evil at the same time
She barely wants to move
But she doesn't have a choice
She writes with her heart
Not with her head
Writing is her release
Reading is her consumption
Breathing out then slowly inhaling each and every word
Falling deeper into someone else’s life and wishing it was her own
That’s why she started writing
To create a new reality for herself
Envisioning a world of peace
Released from the cage that she has been confined to
But the cruel world that she has been cursed with by God
Creeps its way up to her neck
Taking hold of any freedom that she had created for herself
In those so few minutes alone
Pulling her from her slumber
Stripping her of her innocents
Marking her with fire
Crippling her into ashes
Making her realize that there is no way out of this alive
She can only pray for that last day to come sooner
The morning sun taking her out of her trans, making her sufferings all the more relevant
With you natural beauty and your long blonde locks,
you first gained notoriety on the Ivory Snow box.
Yes, you were the young mother and not the baby.
In such a strange surrounding you would soon be.
Marilyn, we saw you in an X-rated movie.
After landing a small role in “The Owl and the *****cat”,
mainstream entertainment was not where it was at.
Working as a waitress and stripper left you bored.
It seemed all your work gave you no reward.
You finally got a break in “Behind the Green Door”.
You became a celebrity millions would adore.
We would be in an erotic vicarious journey
in just about every ***** flick we would see.
Yes, you became the sensual toast of the town.
Your age did not seem to slow you down.
Sadly, you left this world just recently.
Marilyn, you will always be number one with me.
A moment of tranquil repose, breathing in whispers of sounds and dreams at nature's ethereal doorstep. Quote _by Poet
I gaze towards the sky,
Among the snow white clouds,
And autumn sun,
Watching all the birds' flyby.
With outstretched wings
Flying so high, soaring
Into the vast horizon.
As I sit on the rock cliff
A calm hazy white blanket
Sea and sweet air;
A dreamlike atmosphere
Of harmony and tranquility,
Beguiles, just extremely unreal.
Whispers of sounds and dreams
Drift as time sweeps away.
With cold shivers
Running up my spine
Staring at the shadowy
Woodland and vast horizon.
It seems so surreal.
Taking a breath
And sighing deeply
Brushing against
Nature's ethereal doorstep,
From sun rising at dawn,
Until twilight seductive night.
I close my eyes and create
A unique imaginary
Art inspired surrounding,
Losing myself in its trancelike
Quiet serenity
Of the bluish sky fading away
Unseen into blissful fantasy dreams.
5/23/2021
Poetry Contest: Writing Prompt - Dreamlike
Sponsored by: Constance La France
dreamlike surreal
unreal hazy
imaginary shadowy
ethereal trancelike
If only there was a wizard
like Dorthy payed a visit.
If only for our wishing.
A far off land exquisite.
An emerald palace standing.
A place for all to come.
Along a yellow brick road
followed down by some.
A path into a city
where all the dreamers go.
A million tiny munchkins
surrounding you for show.
An Oz home to a wizard.
A great and powerful Oz.
A man to answer questions.
Dreams worthy of their cause.
A place where witches bicker
and evil's fought with water.
Where broomsticks are for flying
and monkeys for the slaughter.
A good witch keeping secrets.
Her wand for waving greetings.
And knowing ruby slippers
means home and not for fleetings.
Beyond a Pirate’s thought
It has nothing to do with silver and gold treasure
There is nothing in material value to measure
Surrounding love of pleasure
Not an intimate interlude
Yes, when you think on love follows soothe
But the true hidden treasure of one’s Inner self of goodness within
Sometimes you think of everything being a treasure chest from the attic
Here we are again thinking being a rich fanatic
The hidden treasure is actually your own heart feeling the joy
Breathe in all the admiration
Look high in the sky with all the appreciation
There’s your hidden treasure
Possibilities and purpose controls your realities
Hidden treasure you never thought about
Being the hidden treasure
Finding who you are, and where you want to be
Reflecting day in and out
Your own treasure to cherish
Hidden not
Good find
It’s the charisma heart being unhidden treasure that is divine.
Wind sighs gently, breathing her smile through the leaves
Whispers of light flow with each word, so I’m blessed
Praising and praying, with gentle hearts whom love believes
Oaks, elms and maples writing memoirs I’ve guessed
Autumn has a grace that can’t be written gone
It is with my last breath, I’ll sing her love song
Though I love her ways, I sometimes kneel to pray
For those who cannot see past the forest’s gray
Wind weeps as the snowdrifts climb higher, wilder
Ice paths cross through the darkness of this season
Seems I’m grouchy, hope winter will be milder
Hate this weather, who feels lost, without reason
Living through winter, one of life’s greatest feats
As the sun swallows up the darkness, she cheats
Leaving shy flakes surrounding me with night’s grief
I pray through the silence, met by one lone leaf
Wind heals me from the shadows who write me gray
As the heart knows, I feel the colors of His Son’s ray
Pouring over my soul, in glorious blessings who amaze
Stilling weary wars of dark who tries to muffle my praise
This is the music of a summer who rolls fast from time
Needless to say, the weather will never erase this rhyme
When I see the autumn waking, rising from the night
I finish the poem with a joy that leaves the soul right
My throat feels scratchy
I'm irritable and edgy
Coming down with the flu
Trying to go for success
I'm still pending
Reaching out to you oh Lord
Please don't make your ears too heavy
I'm ready to repent as my levy
I'm turning down the intensity
I need to proceed with caution
Too much chaos surrounding me
I need an exorcist
You're thinking poltergeist
I'm thinking of the mother of all heists
I'm disenfranchised
Officials turned on me too many times
Situations is becoming desperate
I'm desolate
I don't care about a wish list
It is going to be a bitter Christmas
Santa changed course
He is due south
Asparagus is stuck in my mouth
Isn't it ironic
Every new job I get
I had to have my tooth extract
No wonder I get this toothless aggression
I can't think straight
Every time I open up my mouth
You’ll see there is no more wisdom teeth
It is a clean slate
But I am keen to participate
On getting a break
A break into reality
Of a broken home
I might predict a bright future
Like Notre Dome
Without the hunchback
No matter how I lack
I'm always able to bounce back
Like a volleyball
I’ve been beat
fallen
I'm velocity and all
Crazy summer saying
Where is the one I recognise
But I won't cry for yesterday
Somehow I’ll learn to survive
Form:
1 November 2024 5:23 Pm
In the cold dark of night when hidden is the light
I sink into my mind and slowly loose my sight
My eyes reopen in a world out of time
The past the present the future all at once mixed out of line
I can not comprehend what it meant or should mean
Emotions surrounding me as my soul tries to scream
My scream sounds like laughter my anger feels like tears
Seconds, days, minutes, years all tormentous joys and fears
Roll over and over under my cover
My blanket becomes a field of clover
My enemy loves me, my lover hates me
Chaos is the order and reason aggravates me
Do I dream as I sleep these horrors and grief
Or is the dream my life and my life my relief
What is real and what is not
This world has us programmed and put on a spot
YESHUA help us and shorten the time
Before the time becomes the end of this rhyme
A red tail hawk perches on the rooftop of my adjacent building,
watching the activity at my window where I feed my local pigeons,
but not one pigeon will the hawk kill,
while they are feeding at my window sill.
The hawk waits until they all leave,
to relax perched in surrounding trees,
and then gliding high up above, very still, very silently
the hawk dives into the branches of one of the surrounding trees,
then emerges moments after from the branch's leaves.
The hawk has made its pigeon kill successfully.
The hawk flies off to find somewhere to eat in peace,
but is marauded by a murder of crows suddenly.
The crows harass the hawk, tormenting it relentlessly,
until the dead pigeon locked in its talons gets released.
The crows chase the hawk off and all share in the feast
of the hawk's prey that the hawk never got a chance to eat.
Outside my window this kind of drama will often play,
nearly every single living day.
I'm silently collecting my reflective thoughts
I write the words as I grasp for air
Breathing with rhythm as I write
Imagery sets in - beauty becomes me
My eyes are with radiance as I view sight
The hues on my face are mesmerizing
As the brilliant sun hypnotizes me , I see
Beauteous Be ! It's all quite contraire
Still the mood is surrounding my awe
The significance of beauty too becomes my soul
Warmth - I see color a phenomena
It intrigues me! I paint in my mind
The brush strokes blend on the palette
I splash the canvas - The virtue is ever ending
It is deep - even in REM as I sleep
Theoretically speaking I am charmed
A message reflects too that I am sending
I wake each morn - I relate to God
Nature nurtures my very well being
My personality glistens in view
The perspective is in my wounded heart
As I see the beauty of God's creations at will
And sit writing and painting by the window sill
I am appreciative! he built this for me
And as long as the precious sights I can see
I relate my reflections blessed with the skies above
And as God listens silently to my fragile brain
I come to terms with the audacious beauty with love
And best of all with terms of endearment
God's with me! I too am silently reflecting
A mind that is sane!