Long Waking up Poems
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By Poet "Our memories fill yesterday. Today our dreams will fill tomorrow."
Will my dream be here tomorrow?
A cool breeze does softy blow,
over me as if I will know.
Into deeper sleep I must go,
what will my dream now show?
I am still from head to toe,
feeling like I am aglow.
Another world I will go.
Within a dream what will I see?
A huge yellow bumble bee,
she was eating crackers and brie.
From this dream I want to flee,
please oh - please set me free.
My bed is now wet - I did pee,
let me out I will plea.
Now awake one, two, three.
My dream within a dream,
was it just too extreme?
It made me pee then scream,
what a very wild dream theme.
The bee rode a leaf downstream,
what a weird bee daydream.
Through the trees I saw a sunbeam,
the bright light looks like ice cream.
Now waking up with self esteem.
A melodious symphonic journey by the rose-bush….
No more waiting…air is crisp and delightful again,
Mystical breeze waltzing, whistling romantic stories,
Pristine clouds floating like sailboats in the ocean,
Grasses gleefully swaying showcasing their exuberant colours,
Velvety and silky to tread on,
Evergreens feel despondent and lonely no more,
Spring is at the door!
Aquamarine horizon with crimson hue,
Drowns my senses in lilac reverie,
Koels and Bulbuls unhesitatingly tweet songs!
Swirling vibrant colours of rainbow in palette...
Fragrant graceful flowers waking up from slumber,
Sky is singing an ebullient tale, and...
Faraway sonata of a season whispers
Dreams soothing and gentle on my eyes!
Spring birds cooing a celestial melody of sitar,
Strings plucked gently with fingers fine,
Floating clouds play violin with their gliding movements,
Breeze paints a picture of grace and harmony of Cello,
Leaves murmur an ensemble of a deeply expressive flute,
A memorable sonata is created divine!
One knows by the blinking eyes
when someone lies to hide guilt...
even words sound fake on your waking up;
I'm tired of the promises coated with lies:
times and times again I've pleaded to quit,
but obeyed your command turning into a pup!
Be persuasive, speak of a strong commitment,
stick to true words: they're a golden treasure,
don't use me only for your intimate pleasure:
passion can last as long as there's a heartbeat!
Have you kissed another man's sensual lips?
Was he able to convince you he was better?
Damn fool, your folly existence stirs up anger:
deceive no hearts, don't make sarcastic remarks!!
Be persuasive, speak of a strong commitment
to build a tomorrow stronger than a fortress;
don't ask more than I am able to give when in total doubt:
I foresee days of endless joy, but also days of deep sadness!
One tastes much bitterness when sweetness is missing
from the eager mouth that wanted to delight in every truth;
it shows in the eyes, even in the emotions that are fading:
remain faithful to me, look no further, and find some worth!
I am waking up with cobwebs in my head.
I find it difficult to get out of bed.
It’s only sleep, but I feel like I’m half dead.
I must get up and go to work. Enough said!
It is a struggle to reach out with my arm
to shut off that annoying ringing alarm.
Once I am out of bed, and in the shower,
I can feel a resurgence of some power.
Even though I’m fully dressed, I feel effete.
One more item will make my morning complete.
In order to proceed with my sunrise scene,
I need my small daily intake of caffeine.
As far as coffee’s concerned, I have no more.
That is what I forgot to get at the store.
Driving to a convenience store is no chore.
Well, there’s plenty of places along the way.
I can stop to get a cup to save my day.
Trauma stained
my innocence,
before I knew
that the sunless
sky lost its glory
to doomed darkness,
an empathetic gaze
which roamed beneath my
saffron skin,
an ungodly vulture
disguised as a gracious
guide, whilst waking up
to wrinkled sheets of satin,
which burnt and betrayed
my virtue as an offspring-
as virginal petals
stained in blood,
drenched me in
cruel flashbacks.
I swam against
ghastly ghosts,
searching for
cosmic lilies,
floating on the crest
of a wave,
through unholy rivers,
baptizing darkest sins
of my exploited mind.
l've tasted sparkling
saline streaming
down tall murky falls,
Every ripple graphically
reminding me of
my childhood tears,
secrets which scarred
my strained soul
into suppression,
allowing dark voices in
my head to control
every aspect of
my conscience,
questioning the stars
that dimmed
their silver on me.
Was my fatigued
smile a written consent
to the bloodthirsty breezes,
brutally invading
every untouched cell?
Did I blindly sing
along to their lullaby?
Or have I been cursed
before I saw
the first light of life?
Perhaps these
questions will
forever haunt me,
there's no right
answer when
the ugly truth
has stolen every
reason to place my
trust in the
unkind mind
of the humankind,
for the devil resides
in their shameless
shadows, singing hellish clarity.
My oak tree is budding
Early in the time of spring
And when those buds grow big
An acorn is what it brings
As an acorn, I hang high
Looking down upon the land below
At times I often wonder
Will I be an oak tree when I grow?
Or will I be the nourishment
To the those that live in the trees
Such as birds, possums, squirrels
And animals such as these
Or will I be a home for
a weevil larvae inside
Sleeping till I hit the ground
Waking up from this wild ride
One by one, I watch all of
my family members fall
Nows there's not many acorns
Not many left up here at all
And now for the very first time
ever since I the day was born
I have begun to wonder
Will I be the last acorn?
4/26/2020
Wisdom innate & within Us All
(mass consciousness is coming)
Those who now stand opposed but know to rest at bay,
They will yet live to Fight another day,
If we choose to walk the given walk,
Use Words, Music, Frequencies, vibrations that resonate,
For those that don't or won't, cannot then talk,
For words are this and much more, but also a message to liberate..,
Propaganda is everywhere except in ourselves,
We the former subjugated masses must now really unite,
Stolen youth and of course mass stolen wealth,
God given consciousness is in us all,
Freedom from all the pervasive lies and stealth,
Concede, acquiesce to a downtrodden Humanity,
Or break free completely and rise up tall?
Waking up isn't so hard to do,
As it is the basic sense, the moral instinct inside of you,
Reconnect to Humanity's mass consciousness now,
Failing to do so, is an incentive to fall,
Find a way, anyway, someway and somehow,
Wisdom innate & within Us All
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
2nd October 2022
During covid 19 Global lockdown and Constant new Wars
The PoetTree
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
I just got back from my morning walk
I had forgotten how exhilarating it is
To watch the sun rise
Up over the hills of Beirut.
The campus where I teach is simply breathtaking
Nestled cozily in the pine tree forests on top of a hill,
It offers a panoramic view of Beirut
Many years back this was not a good thing
As the army brought a tank up to the upper campus
To shell enemy positions in Beirut
And our campus got riddled with bombs
We spent our days in shelters
While our campus burst into flame
But this morning, I didn’t remember any of that
I walked on the lower campus and gazed out at Beirut
I walked like a fool....my eyes looking up
Saying a shy good morning to the clouds
And a warm good morning to the One beyond
While I did my sit-ups on one of the benches
I looked up into the jacaranda tree
Its branches were naked, but I knew, I knew that in spring
It would be regal in purple finery
That would enchant all those who walked
Under the train of its beauty
Later it would rain purple petals down on all
But purple kisses for me, for I’m in love with this hue
As a reward, as always… I drove up to the upper campus
While listening to music, my second passion
As my car made the turns
I tried to keep my eyes on the road
And not fixed on the hills where the sun was getting ready
To make his glory known
Nor down on Beirut that was just waking up from slumber
I passed places that my heart cherished
Where my husband first asked me to be his
Where we parked the car and looked at
The dazzling lights of Beirut at night
Our hearts ablaze with the burning passion of youth
The place where he wanted to claim possession of me
But held back…honoring custom and tradition
I drove down slowly
I drove down reluctantly
I wanted to relive everything
To find the joy of being alive, once more
I had forgotten how beautiful the mornings are
I had forgotten who I am in the great scheme of things
But HE reminded me…
As the sun pushed through the clouds and shone in brilliance
The verse came to my mind…
“And the Son of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings.”
Arise in my heart, for I need your healing!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Little Blue Bird of rain.
Rain, rain go away
Little Blue Bird of Rain, needs to shine again
In her version the sun dried, up all her tears
Leaving hurtful rain inside the bird
Destructive past sudden cheers
Waking up to empty words
When abandoned by her peers
Just not knowing what had just occurred
Drowning herself in a life of Jane Doe.
Never know who she really is
When all she loves hanging her lowest moment
The rain brought out Mary-Jane.
As the bird lost its glow.
The rain tricked her once to use Cocaine.
As her feathers met that one Joe.
He broke her wing and brought more Rain.
Very young, very sweet.
Living her life in the fast lane.
Hard for her to stand on her feet.
Balanced her life on one leg, like the crane.
Curtains hang over her wings.
While she let no one near her domain.
While she flies through the heavy rain.
She finds her comfort with a pen.
Using the lords name in vain.
Cursing all her backstabbing friends
With no one around to explain?
All the sorrow left her on a railroad track.
Ending up like the runaway train.
Only she can get her life back.
If for myself I ever felt pain?
I felt more pain at what she wrote about.
In my face on my left side
Your poetry comes to life in my head.
Visions of her wanting to be dead.
Oh! How I wish this life she did not dread.
You hide the tears you shed so well.
A life with balls you cut the chains.
You diss, Your parents to go to hell.
Little Blue Bird of Rain, don't let them fools drive you insane.
Little Blue Bird of Rain.
If a sparrow could show you,
There is more to life than pain.
Under the umbrella, the sparrow would cover you.
No one wants to see her colors drain.
What a world to master her feathers into art.
The gift of words runs through her vein
The paintings on her wall.
A dream of a bad seed of grain.
One day our Little Blue Bird will stand tall.
To free herself from all the Rain.
To: Rain aka- Joy Loveless
Our sweet 16-year-old
P.D. 1-1-10
A beautiful dream last night while i was walking overTHERE.
My name was unknown to me and my feet had a small inkling
of where they had traveled within my past.
It was blissful.
i walked into a white marbled room that contained a bench
made of unfulfilled wishes; the ceiling gently weeping
the softest tears of love toward me. My soul was drenched
in hope.
On the wall in front of me was a most beautiful painting
framed within amethyst and the colors were otherworldly
and breathtaking.
Upon waking up i went to my easel and picked up my brush
but soon realized our world does not possess such colors
and even if so there is not a single soul that could
comprehend that angelic spectrum of a higher rainbow.
I wish to sleep.
Again.
:: 06-01-2018 ::