Long Tiredly Poems
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Days passed and still we did not take him
I was angry at everyone and stayed near his side
But one day he had disappeared
My heart skipped a beat as I searched the whole house
Calling his name despondently
Finally I heard a faint meow…
I found him under the couch….
He was alive!!!
Pentecost, the great and faithful…
Laying down on his side…still breathing…
And with effort lifting his head to gaze at me..
Wondering if there was room for two..on the floor
His eyes opened and closed slowly
Staring back, I swallowed, never looking away
I crawled half way under the couch and prayed “Please… please… don’t leave us…”
I sobbed looking into his eyes
He was so sad seeing me cry, yet calm
And it seemed like he was meaning to say… “It’s okay, Laura… it’s okay…”
I got up quickly as if the world was ending and got the music box,
Came back down and played it for him I hummed feebly, hot tears coming down
His head lowered resting tiredly on the carpet
His paw reaching for me
He fell asleep soundly as he laid his paw in my hand
Soft, tranquil and cold
Gently I closed my hand around him
When I rushed home from school the next day
That is when my mom stopped me to say he was gone
He had taken refuge under the house
Alone, he had found peace,
In one of his favorite spots in the summer…
Pentecost was gone…
And the entire family grieved his absence
Even my dad when he heard said softly, “Poor little guy”…
When I turn on my music box I remember the happy year with Pentecost,
I will never forget the smiles and laughs
Damasked in his charms, his light remains
So young he died, but forever he will stay
As the music faithfully chimes “It’s okay Laura…it’s okay…”
~Dedicated to Pentecost, a faithful and furtive feline with a heart of gold~
On Interstate 5 In A Greyhound Bus
mother pauline boards the big greyhound double decker
her freckled son goes before her wearing a cub scout cap
hurry up she says as they climb the stairs to the upper deck
the bus driver tips his cap and starts the greyhound engine
mother pauline tells the little boy they are going to redding
she gives him a batman comic book and a box of milk duds
nighttime is coming as stout pauline flips on the ceiling lamp
euthanizing elevator music seeps from an overhead speaker
jodi sands sings ‘kiss by kiss’ as the bus driver grips the wheel
the double decker dashes down alameda with taillights on fire
flashing by foggy neon cocktail dives drinking in the darkness
rushing now on life’s dream highway like an insane eel dancing
now rushing at 65 mph they ride on interstate 5’s scarred back
freckled boy tiredly yawns and lies upon the soft lap of pauline
tired mother peers out the window and sees the fast blur of life
she focuses her sight and sees her mountain of love sleeping
an hour of fast driving leads to closed eyes and driveling yawns
old men snore in the back as erect streetlights pass by unseen
mother pauline thinks of husband fred back home being alone
she wonders if fred misses her as much as she now misses him
wonders if he’s snoring in bed right now as loud as the old men
soon she will be in redding to find a house and to scout the town
soon the sun will rise when the yuba street bus depot is reached
freckled boy continues to sleep and dream in pauline’s soft lap
the greyhound speeds up interstate 5 like an insane eel dancing
His tired smile felt genuinely warm
It's the daily norm since he was born
Life is an endless loop of closed doors
Searching for hope among endless pores
Born into seaside harbor
Felt the wave of endless labor
Shouldering pain and liability
Sailing for honest security
Touching the mild ocean breeze
Smiled tiredly along freezing sneeze
Homecoming after relentless work
Grabs and sighs at dinner fork
Looking upon paled door
Grabbles within open pores
Shut the lights hoping for relief
Dreaming upon hopeless beliefs
A continuous cycle day and night
A tired smile without light
*Beasts of burden*
Then I couldn't grapple the hand
that held onto what I hinged upon
Never 'ld, instead I reached for its head
Mortal-minded, neither soldier nor lord
or rather, faux,feeble, too torn
Long I stood, living in graced faith
Nature denied me a knife or dagger
But a soldiering destiny waited for death
at hefty times when all didnt query, yet,
these souls ran Godly errands afar
In the morning we equally laid tiredly
Thought I was gone too long to return-
nooks 'n crannies, moonlit-sanity.
Me, death with feud on a bale of hay
discreetly left on a tomb for liason
Strongly gave out , solely a sacrifice
We passed!, Feute'de'mieux, to die
looked down as far as I could, just ice
under the haystack, I failed to age.
Death entertains beyond prying eyes
*(LANCELOT)*
*Beasts of burden*
Then I couldn't grapple the hand
that held onto what I hinged upon
Never 'ld, instead I reached for its head
Mortal-minded, neither soldier nor lord
or rather, faux,feeble, too torn
Long I stood, living in graced faith
Nature denied me a knife or dagger
But a soldiering destiny waited for death
at hefty times when all didnt query, yet,
these souls ran Godly errands afar
In the morning we equally laid tiredly
Thought I was gone too long to return-
nooks 'n crannies, moonlit-sanity.
Me, death with feud on a bale of hay
discreetly left on a tomb for liason
Strongly gave out , solely a sacrifice
We passed!, Feute'de'mieux, to die
looked down as far as I could, just ice
under the haystack, I failed to age.
Death entertains beyond prying eyes
*(LANCELOT)*
I Always wonder, who's the girl in the mirror,
Who seems so calm and composed of herself
and showing no emotions or sentiments.
I usually see her staring at me
and replicating whatever I do.
She seems to have nothing of her own.
As if she has lost her everything in the deep sea of sins.
I see her in the morning, with messed up hair.
I see her at afternoon, with a clumsy face.
I see her tiredly yawn at night.
And, sometimes I see her cheerless, helpless smile.
I know she does, whatever I do.
I know she can't feel anything on her own.
But I feel pity for her. And that is why I decide
To be happy, to make her feel good.
contest finalised on- 7th April, 2016
poem written in december 2015
White snow squalls shift to frigid icy sleet and rain
Coated tree limbs dance and sway, crackling in the wind
Sleet pellets pummel metal rooftops like a steel drum
Desolate roads glisten like mirrors under streetlights
Night winds loudly howl and angrily sing away
As Mother Nature’s roaring nightly chorus
Tall pines tiredly surrender and fiercely fall in booms
Early morning sun calms as amber rays peak out
Slowly warming silver frosted trees and roads
Birds chirp and perch at frozen feeders pecking at seed
As tree branches awaken and emerge toward the sun
12/25/22
Contest: Winter Storm Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Carried forth between two trees
It seems the wind has got the best of me
Pushing me off of my two feet
I crumble down into the soil
The sun licks at me
And I gaze tiredly towards the sky
Alone between two trees
The gap where the sun lies
The sun lies
Your soul dies
Lost it seems, but the direction is clear
I suppose the only thing holding me back is fear
I try to pull myself back up
But the soil sticks to me like glue
It beats upon me, abusing my mind
My black clothes swelter, I wasn't ready for this
The two trees grin upon my woe
The dread stays and your soul goes
The sun grins
Your heart thins
I wish I can reach between those trees
To stand upon the air - to see what God sees
As my woe deepens in the soil
Would I not look down upon myself...
Only to see me spoil
I suppose you can stay where you are
After all you are too far
To find me and heal
I've fallen between two trees and the sun cannot feel
But tear the heart
And scorch the soul
I was carried here
Could I be carried once more?
Would anyone out there find me?
I suppose the one that's far
Can heal the scorching scar
If one could mend a scorching...torn-up soul
If one could bear this heart to hold
By Sashi.Prabhu(ZEAUOXIAN)
21st june 2012 (goa –mumbai jet flt)
Restlessness crept within as I waded through moments without a miss,
The dusky vista bathed me serene as my mouth within itself salivates.
Longing and yearning for her warm presence and her passionate kiss.
Shiverous joys of my heart and geese pimples on my skin impatentiently waits.
Unbridled passions erupted at her sight,
Our hearts melted into a pink flame
As she embraced me as firm and tight,
My pulsating body turned feeble and lame.
The furious rise and fall of her voluptuous breasts,
Amidst rhythmic panting of our melted hearts with notes high,
Pound mercilessly against my gladiator chests
And the warm exhales from the nostrils clasped on to the yearning sighs.
Dull strains from brushing cotton and denim,
And moans from gyrating bodies as one.
From dark dusk to dawns beauty filled with cream,
Both under the watchful skies passionately groan undone.
Cannot remember how into slumber land we did tiredly drift,
How before our eyes into each other we did merge.
Entwined in each other s arms deep in love, we were drenched in mist.
Our bodies thrived on potent dosage of love surge.
On the brink of bursting were our loves ramparts,
Bubbling within lusting pleasure.
Flooding water of love within our hearts,
As those moments I will within myself capture and fondly treasure
Freely forming metrical mainstays
poetic occasion to phrase
the fairer and gentler sex,
thus the following turns of phrase
to bestow acknowledgement
regarding wonderful wise ways
of collective she who assays
to create safe/secure home/ hearth
as bedrock and fount of ample
maternal duties tiredly sashays
with keeping house receiving praise
the second Sunday each May, her
tired body sprawled on chaise
lounge, perhaps basking in solar rays
communing with Gaia, who whiz
bruiting with sky goddess
defying forecasters prediction, no slate grays
pose dampening effect on huzzahs
regaling torchbearer diploid as amaze
zing newlife, where loving labor pays
more than fine spun gold cherishing
offspring in her nurturing ways.
Paean dutiful daily deference, I dole
ensconced with pineapple getup
surfing the cyber sea, this hyperbowl
lee, yet deserved dignity deifying dames,
who bear brunt whole
ding potent biological reproductive role
de facto duty honorably decreed
tribute paid despite commercialized
money making hyped up rigamarole,
nonetheless yours truly accentuates sole
sans, progenitor of human race
saddled with disproportionate/ unfair toll.