Long Torn asunder Poems
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What if this strange, tired, sleeping world
Should one day waken from its slumber
And like the cold hand of death unfurled
Revealing dark secrets that lie among its number,
Exposing in the clear light of truth
How childish innocence was taken as plunder
And how preyed upon the fears and doubts of youth
And all the foundations broken down and torn asunder,
What if the death knell has already struck
And all our precious freedoms are denied
Crushed underfoot with a proud and contemptuous look
And our great civilisation has already died.
O forbid such thoughts even in my fearful dreams
That this dark hour be not what it seems.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2021.
26/1/21
beneith the phantoms of the deep
a wretched grave yard where love sleeps
all but forgotten loves of time
covered in fiction, rumors and lies
decay did whither their werry bones
and unrest bothered their hearts left alone
suicide and murderous mist
malace and for thought of a poisonous kiss
for each they sailed the sea of love
clear skies and ocean above
below lost vessels that once rode the sea
smothered by waters that pulled down deep
trusting the ship they begged to sail
where calm sea's often become strong gails
and tossed are sailer to and fro
from the bow to down below
suffering what they didn't know
the sea's anger and ability to show
Is there a god to which can be prayed?
where is Poseidon, can he be paid?
for safe passage through the rocks
take from us this state of shock
where every wave would cover thee
and silence prayers and every plea
certian distruction awaits this ship
being torn asunder by natures grip
thunder peels across dark skys
like a truth it is a light
but darkness denies it's pressence still
lightening cannot change the will
where fears would scare, the sailor steals
tighten the ropes secure the sails
love demands the highest price
certian risk and sacrifice
the abyss has claimed a myriad of lives
who's death for love was satisfied
sailing on the sea of love
glimpsing the phantoms from up above
a sad sanity can calm the sea
and then rage takes over and destroys what be
we cannot hide from love what love see's
the bigger the ocean the deeper the sea
the deeper the love the bigger the greif
no matter who or what they be
the ship is the hostage of the sea
you can sink in it's depths or to its shore flee
there is always a risk when you tempt the sea
and there is always a grave waiting for thee
1963
By then "we" knew
Our country's leaders knew
(Before that, really - the intelligence was clear)
We were in a war we could never win ...
More money, more resources, more troops kept going
Billions and billions of taxpayer dollars
Given almost freely and continuously to a lost cause
President-after-president, leader-after-leader
Supported the effort that they knew was inane, futile
All for the sake of embarrassment
Husbands, sons, brothers, friends, fathers
Priceless lives given so administrations could say -
"Not on MY watch! I will not risk failure!"
"Let the next POTUS pull out and be called the loser!"
Countless families torn asunder
For an effort that was lost before it had begun
Literally.
I pray ...
Every night I pray
That they did NOT sleep well ... ever
And that EVERY lost soul that died under their watch
Is waiting before the Pearly gates to greet them
And ask them the question ...
Why?!?
I turned away to hide my tears when his eyes were blurred
and frowned with a sigh each time his words were slurred
Foolishly, he thought by closing his door I wouldn't know
that he'd given in to the demon causing sorrow and woe
He was drowning himself in whirlpools on the Vodka Sea
I wanted to save him from the haunting plague of misery
I begged and pleaded for him to get the help he needed
but my pleas were met with blank stares; left unheeded
When sober he said, "I love you. I'm sorry for being weak"
I smiled as my tears spilled, but no reply did I try to speak
I swallowed the words that would sound condescending
but no longer did I say, "It's ok." I was tired of pretending
Pensive at finding bottles he thought were cleverly hidden
I cursed the temptation that should have been forbidden
In loneliness I lived, although he lay sprawled on the floor
in the room he shared with a friend, behind a closed door
He once told me that before seeking help, he'd rather die
My heart was wounded and scarred when he refused to try
It was a bitter day when I walked away; sullen and grieving
The hardest decision I ever made was staying or leaving
I've often wondered if there was more I could have done
But reflected that each day would be a continuous rerun
of his fight against the demon that ruled his mind and soul
In time I realized that his addiction was beyond my control
How wretched a prison it must be for him to wander alone
Willing or not, he forfeited love that had been deeply sown
I wept for what could have been a marriage, forever shared
but torn asunder by harsh words when his temper flared
Now, when I hear Adele singing, "We Could've Had it All"
I'm engulfed in sadness knowing he couldn't stop his fall
I heard he nearly died a few months back, and what I felt
was pity that he still played with the hand his demon dealt
December 26, 2020
Addiction Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Levasseur
One-ply, two-ply, three-ply, four:
Whether you are rich or poor,
This is something that you need.
Substitutes won’t do, agreed?
Extra soft or without rolls,
Every brand has matching goals –
Do the job and help us wipe.
We don’t need the extra hype!
One conundrum makes folks nuts;
They won’t stand ifs, ands or buts.
(Pun intended) – This harangue
Regards which way the roll should hang.
Is the next-to-follow strip
On the top for you to rip?
Or perhaps it’s lying under
Waiting to be torn asunder?
Everyone thinks his way’s best.
Please comply if you’re a guest.
When you’re on another’s bowl,
Use his method to unroll.
One last thing I’d like to mention –
This is one superb invention;
For without its grand debut,
I can think of one word – EEW!
July 31, 2012
Untitled
As we reach into dawns early light,
dissipating sleep, sleep being the blindfold
covering our conscious eye from sight
of hidden truths - stories to be told,
we might just find, if we remove sleep
from our subconscious, cast off that blindfold
so that we might be free, to behold
that which – in you and me – lies deep
within the cracks, the recesses of our soul.
Seeing, is for you and me, a way to know,
seeds to sow – blossoms within, not to keep –
blossoms to show, grow into freedom
so that – uninhibited – to the kingdom
we may go – as innocent as we came,
leaving behind all we learned in the game
of mortal life with all it’s strife – rife
with all that tears mortal man apart,
his spirit, his soul, into slices by Fate’s knife,
laying him prostrate, torn asunder.
Pure energy, a new life, new ways, a new start.
Is this what is to be ? , I am left to wonder ?
B. J. “A” 2
March 5th 2003
Can't go home again? I hope that will not prove true
Open arms will be welcoming; helping me pull through
My heart was betrayed after I left. Now, I'm on my own
Insecure and all alone; I'm lost and tossed... windblown
Numbed by grief, I'll find relief among family and friends
Grateful to journey back home, where my path wends.
Being around familiar things will heal my wounded heart
And I'll weave closed tattered seams that were split apart
Chasing a dream was a mistake I'll never risk taking again
Knowing my emotions were torn asunder. I loved in vain
Home is a haven where I will find solace in each embrace
Oasis in the desert of my pain; my roots... my birthplace
May I never forget this time of homecoming while I grieve
Exclaiming my thanks for the loving support I will receive
February 13, 2021
Coming Back Home Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Forgive me not my dear
Even though apart feels like a tearing of flesh
And even now
Our hearts already lonely before we do apart
Let me walk away my love.
Some men are meant to journey alone.
True a lovely thing we had
But
Now before us is my mess of all our hopes
Pain is all I caused in the end
And
What of all awhile? Promises of a single lifetime spent together
Whispers spoken in the heat of passion
Always
Torn asunder, between loving me
And
Wanting to walk away.
With time I changed, did I not…………but
In the beginning did I ever deceive you?
Did I lead you on with lies?
Regrets is all we have now
Was I worth all that pain I caused, all your sacrifices?
Need I convince you to let me walk away my love.
To let me shy away with my shame
I'm no lover to abide
Move on and find your happiness with another
Maybe then my regrets will fade to old memories
And vague recollections.
We can build other hopes and dream on them if we dare.
Memories will with time perish,
Some as I write this verse
I shed off my memory with each tear I shed for us.
Doubtless some will recline with me in eternal slumber.
Forever cherished, a lifetime’s reminder of love
And Its high cost in heartache.
To stop you I will not try dear, I hurt you bad I know
I love you is not enough to answer for my crimes nor is it even a worth excuse
I of all people shouldn’t be the one to hurt but care and love
In all sincerity nothing justifies or redeems my actions to you
You do not deserve that sort of treatment
As you walk away please learn that from my mistakes
And whoever he is, out there …………….
I hope he treats you better
I love you dear
, I was tired, I was angry, I felt worthless
I tried talking to you but you weren’t really giving me the attention I needed at that moment
So when you …………………..it wasn’t all for you. It was for him and for life
I also am needy
I'm sorry because I really do love you and I hurt you the most and now I stand to lose you.
Form:
There's a special man I call my "friend",
With a heart that's gracious without end.
He employs it fully to love or grieve,
Yet never shames it upon his sleeve.
When side-by-side it's plain to see,
That we're as different as men can be.
We're yin to yang, to be exact,
And I'm as white as he is black.
My hair is straight, his head is nappy,
I'm oft subdued, he's always happy.
He's well-to-do, I'm hand-to-mouth,
And tho' I'm a Yankee, he's from deep South.
I'm quite capricious, he's even-coursed,
He's married years, I'm twice divorced.
He's traveled as far as a soul can roam,
While I've stayed mostly close to home.
I'm a simple gent, he's a true "class-act",
Yet we roll as one, and that's a fact.
Now, with all this contrast you might wonder,
Why our pact's not easily torn asunder.
But see, what's important to him and me,
Goes far beyond what others see ...
The things that count, when said-and-done,
Are the ways we think and believe as one.
What matters the most, right from the start,
Is how we connect with a kindred heart.
For we have a bond that can't be seen,
That's timeless, precious, and amaranthine.
And it's true that we're born of different mothers,
But this journey through life we make as brothers.
True, I have no vision what's to be our fate,
But I'm sure we're meant for something great.
For we share an exciting and wondrous dream,
That requires a strong and devoted team.
And throughout our journey, day-to-day,
The good fortune will be mine to say,
That in all the ways that I've been blessed,
When it came to friends, I had the best.
Happy Birthday, Buddy, don't mind the sum,
For I'm wishing you many more ... to come!
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Occasional Poetry" Poetry Contest, Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer, Judge & Sponsor.
( For my Buddy, Partner, and Wingman - Robbo T )
The symbol of remembrance is the red poppy
When I look upon it, this is what I see,
I see courage, sacrifice and extreme bravery
See thousands enlisting to defend their country.
I see other nationalities, every colour and creed
Who came to help England in her hour of need
I see water filled trenches with deep mud and rain
I see flashes of gunfire and hear the wounded in pain.
I see and hear the big guns that sound like thunder
I see a Europe at war slowly being torn asunder
I see the deadly yellow clouds of dense mustard gas
Hear the cries of those poor souls breathing their last.
I see the battles that were won and some that were lost
I hear the sounds of victory that came at a great cost
I see the graves of the fallen who gave us that victory
Remembering the sacrifice they made for their country.
I feel the pain of the mothers who gave us their sons
At wars end feel the peace when they silenced the guns
We mourn all those that died and for them we must pray
But war is not the answer we must seek a better way.
When you wear your poppy always do so with pride
Honour two minutes silence for the brave fallen who died.
So the next time that you look upon that little red poppy
Just pause for a moment and tell me what you see.
Written 16th May 2018.