Long Up the road Poems
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"The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things (or feelings) but their inward significance" - Aristotle
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Janie ... Janie Rose
Bright fuchsia painted nails and toes
I was but twelve, a boy ... she, sixteen and coy
Summer mischief at camps on the lake
Warm evenings after dinner, down to the shore
I'd make "the call" - a youthful, visceral howl of promise ... and mystery
Around the misty point it echoed and returned, but much sweeter
(Like a callow phantom searching for straining hearts)
Her teenage version of a nightingale that meant "meet at the tree house"
Oh, how my bones trembled, exictement and apprehension coursing
Inexperience and the unknown dancing like goblins
Mocking me with anxiety, nearly paralyzing
But I HAD to go ... something deep in my marrow burned
A heat that pulled me, despite the horrid confusion and chaos inside
At the lake's edge I would look up at the moon ... swoon
"Watch over me", I'd say, dashing to the tree house up the road
As I got close, I'd hear the radio - her favorite song requested each night
"Why do stars suddenly appear ... every time you are near?" ... indeed
When I reached the rope ladder, I'd take a deep breath ...
And, shaking, aching, I'd climb ... slowly ... up
To a secret, tender world of fear and fun ... and young love, undone ...
The wonders, wild ... of Janie Rose.
Copyright © 2018 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
I didn't often get a birthday present,
Just a cake and a card my Grandma had sent.
But this year Dad came in from the cold,
He walked very slowly because behind him he was struggling to hold- A beautiful blue eyed, golden haired doll.
I took her everywhere and held her hand,
But a while later she was gone, I searched and I searched but I couldn't find her,
Then out of the window I saw my doll in the arms of a little girl who lived up the road.
I ran to my Dad and asked how this had happened, and he sadly told me he had to sell her to just pay the rent.
The bottom dropped out of my world,
I just didn't understand , why my doll had to go.
My Mum held me close and said I had to be brave, and told me that from now on I should work and save, until one day I had enough to buy my Doll back!
Abigail’s Spring
Beneath the shelter of winter’s barren arbor
My winter abused heart
Watches the day’s light linger in the sky resisting darkness -
Begging to play a little longer every day –
Pushing twilight away at arm’s length with pink and brilliant orange
Leaving wispy trails of color in the sky;
Urging empty branches and shivering wheat
Lift up their eyes from bruising rains
And crushing chill of wilderness storms;
Seeing here howling tirades of blizzards
Trade places with long sunbeams stretching slowly
Across my sun starved shadow, warming the winter’s wildness -
Coaxing pale green shoots to peek timidly at meadows
Covered with patchwork quilts of blue and yellow -
Orange scattered across arching hills –
Welcoming the face of spring with arms spread wide;
Listening for the bleating of black faced sheep
When they shed their fleecy coats;
Not looking back into the breath of moaning winds,
Longing sighs transformed into shouts of laughter
Chase themselves across the plains in children’s games;
My spirit, once wrapped in hibernation, feels the changing of the wind
Running up the road – knocking on the gate -
With a moveable feast born of abundance;
Stone cold frozen heart beats again in rhythm with gracious blessings
As the simple sparrow teaches
Her young to fly with the morning light
Rejoicing on warm nights filled with songs of mourning doves –
My face turns - embracing this greening valley -
As spring sprints breathlessly up the path.
April, 2020
Contest: Personal Favorite No. 2
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins
5/16/20
Contest: Poetry Marathon Mile 13
Sponsor: Mark Toney
30 Lines
First place - Brian Strand Your Choice B - 5/17/20
Number 1 Best New Poem - 6/13-20
Poem of the Week - 6/20/20
First place - Brian's Choice G 6-21-20 - Brian Strand
First place Your Best Poem of 2020 - John Hamilton
Top Ten, #10, Poet Destroyer 11/7/20
Chosen for publication in PS It's Poetry
Sophie Dog is excited beyond belief
No idea what she has heard, but she is barking like crazy
Sometimes a large truck puts her into this kind of frenzy
The way she runs up the driveway, I am expecting to see
Dracula with a mountain lion chaser, coming to bite my neck
She is gone an extra long time, too long. I start to worry
But she comes running onto the porch from the opposite direction
So I know she has run around the house, and maybe further.
She is by herself. She growls at Shark K. Cat for putting her claws on the glass door.
A motorcycle buzzes up the road. Usually this puts her into berserk mode.
It does not today. She starts drinking water like a colt that has never had a drink.
A Mack truck goes by, and she ignores it too. I cannot outguess this dog today.
I am listening to Kenny G,
The music is mellow;
I need someone to love me,
Love me tender.
Shining the suite in the room,
I oil the mirror, it doesn't have to show me
Myself as if everything is alright,
If it don't do it well,
I might so well crack it.
There's this girl next door,
She is slim to the tip,
She won't love me tender.
Let me try the lady on the phone,
What a velvet voice,
She won't love me tender.
The lady up the road, slender,
She keeps giving me eye contact,
She won't love me tender.
Slept alone late last night,
I don't want to keep doing this,
Staring at the wall till
The dawn comes.
Only you can love me tender.
Solomon sang, a woman made him,
Tears start running down my eyes,
Only you can love me tender.
Where is your love is gone, my Dear? Where is your beloved
My beloved is gone done into his garden to the bed of spices to feed in the
garden and pick lilies of a different me and us the secret of our life he knows he found the loss and gains he respects in exploration and of course enjoying what clean air mist the sweet aroma skies taking notice of what is his high above the tattered bleeding soul hurt depress tears misunderstood blood pain blood bath unorthodox you see everlasting and eternal earthly propositions and other love gains we made that request down by the highest tower peak just look up and I will lift my eyes too unto the hill for where my help comes from helpmate status rose to my soulmate a kiss of two souls completely engrossed tantalizing in and out waves blowing truth in the wind and of waves soaring searching in and where this Alpha and Omega the beginning the end wind is amorous our of my existence it came from the Lord of lords I am my beloved and my beloved is mine he continues to feed among the lilies
Around the cornerstones and he tells me to turn away my eyes from him for
The beautiful wonderful feeling is blowing in the wind The fragrant rosed across the valley stream sweet mist was across the field! I- All the way to the firmament! the fire burned out doubt and destroyed fear my beloved came home And the corner we turned. But!
Sprinkled raindrops appear upsprings emotions And with a little smile up the road, we roam all up and down the space mountain stone walls
open gates over the place we call home. Shifts high we could not believe the next-level gratitude gripped our hearts with tears of joy flew and kissed the nectar that connects soul to soul
The brain vein kissed my breast the connect the thread of the veil
blood flowed but the vein pulsated love is just what God is Love expressed a journey of no regrets The sky was blue around the milestone
Crosswalk staircase stairs way up in Glory. We do rejuvenate many hands lifted up to glory up lifted hands reached up in adoration when dreams showed signed adoration too As I gazed out my window across the rustic lawn looking up at the sky thinking what a dream I had what is the interpretation of this to me in my everyday life? I wonder about this my dream one
The sky was blue no gray clouds.!.
Up today at 5:00 A. M….this was not by chance…
We had to get up that to catch the 7:30 train to France.
Paris to be exact…so with our packed suitcases in hand…
we headed off to Paris…just as our Ooh La La tour guide planned.
A note about Ooh La La Tours…
When Bryan was planning the Paris part of our trip…since it fell on Bastille Day
The only way to ensure we could go up in the Eiffel Tower…was if we were part of a tour.
“Of course we are a tour”, Bryan said…on his honor he had sworn…
and out of this little white lie….Ooh La La Tours was born.
We rode the Eurostar from London…and filled with croissants and good cheer
entered into the Chunnel…and emerged into the Western Hemisphere.
We found our way to the Hidden Hotel…our luggage to unload..
then headed to the Arc de Triomphe… just a short walk up the road.
We stood atop the Arc and looked out over Paris…taking in her beauty and her power…
then met up with Damien and Trista and headed to the Eiffel Tower.
Bryan was wearing his embroidered Ooh La La shirt…in case anybody checked…
while we all had our Ooh La La tour lanyards draped around our necks.
With Bryan leading the way we made it through…without a French uproar
and before we knew it found ourselves on the Eiffel Tower’s second floor.
Standing on the Eiffel Tower..that iconic structure that looks like it’s made from steel and lace
everyone on Bryan’s tour had a smile on their face.
After a quick dinner we got in line with a thousand other women and men…
for a sunset cruise in an open-air long boat on the river Seine.
We passed the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, and Notre-Dame Cathedral
as the day turned into night….
We saw the Eiffel Tower glow then sparkle with twenty-thousand lights.
It was such a beautiful day…with so many wonderful moments…leaving us in awe…
I suppose the best way to describe it …would be as the French say…Ooh La La
Her blood curdled when she heard the howl
But she kept on moving like a ghost on the prowl
And quickened her steps to reach that place
Where someone waited for her embrace
In a graveyard in the dead of night
She met her lover in the pale moonlight
He was tall and frail, all dressed in black
Then when she got closer, he attacked
Biting her neck with bloodthirsty desire
She then became a vampire
Other vampires emerged soon after
And filled the graveyard with ghoulish laughter
But the wicked witch who lived up the road
had observed the bloodsuckers from her high abode
She despised the vampires, it was plain to tell
And cackled as she conjured up spells
The vampires knew of the evil witch
And they were prepared to win this fight
So they hatched a plan to kill the witch
As their blood thirst grew from night to night
But the wicked witch was one step ahead
And turned them all to rats instead
In the dead of night under a full moon
They squeaked and scampered from tomb to tomb
While the cackling witch flew away on her broom
There is cause for alarm and reason to dread
The vampire rats now feed on the dead
Though the dearly departed can have no dreams
Neither can they speak or scheme
But if you pass the graveyard in the pale moon's gleam
Listen carefully and you'll hear them SCREAM .
It's just outside town, the best deal around,
Just two or three miles up the road.
They called it a prize, it was just the right size,
But in truth it was hard to unload.
It's said to be haunted, but the new folks undaunted,
Decided to make it their home.
Guess they didn't care, didn't tend to beware,
When the history to them was made known.
They moved in straight away, that very same day.
They just couldn't wait to move in.
They seemed so excited, completely delighted,
When the deed was handed to them.
Now it's stranger than ever for they almost never,
Come into the town for supplies.
They're cooly polite and they're quiet despite,
The things that they know we surmise.
Now on their border line they've erected a sign,
To beware if the guard dogs here.
The dogs are weird too for they're larger than you,
And into your heart they'll strike fear.
They patiently wait just inside the gate,
And they watch with intelligent eyes;
But no one goes near for they're something to fear,
And it isn't only their size.
During the day it seems they go away,
They only come out at night;
So my friend stay away be it night time or day,
Don't walk 'neath the pale moon light.
Truth, a five letter word for distinction.
Sometimes I feel I am losing sleep.
Dreaming of a good deed, one day sooner
or later.
Not enough sleep, not enough good places
to go.
I know of one place.
I lost my keys one day last week.
An apartment filled with desire, blinding
lights
& a halo up on a hill.
Further up the road I found my good deed
For little or nothin’
For the first time in a long time I laid & I slept for hours.
Finding myself beside you,
That one uninvited feeling after a million and
one
Bad invited feelings.
One day baby I am gonna thank you
One day baby you’ll see.
I’ll feed you from a bowl where everything
Will be alright.
One day, sooner or later.
The latter a beautiful mystique disguised
Under a halo.
One day, sooner or later.
I’ll find those keys & escape the boundaries
That live in my mind.
One day soon baby, I’ll get on my knees
& accept you as the truth I’ve known all along