Long Wondered Poems
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I still recall those two large probing eyes
Framed on somewhat lean-looking oval face
That had failed to get fair feedback from me,
Me, a shy guy in matters feminine
In a temple of reading stacked with tomes.
Her eyes perhaps pretended whilst to read
In a sea of students and engrossed heads,
One head, mine, lost in quandary’s tight spot.
A serious face that looked nigh blank, maybe,
I first thought. She seemed to have seen a few
More moons than me, or so it looked to me,
Perhaps girls look wiser, goes grandma’s view,
Or it was no more than my fecund mind,
But a stone sure was cast in still water
That set a series of ripples behind,
And my head was in fluctuating jitter.
If thinking eyes had happened to hail me,
It must be taken just as random glance,
My meandering mind’s fertile fancy,
Or destiny's poorly choreographed dance,
Upon an idling mind’s lonely shore
Just when a pearl-laden boat landed there,
Or just strayed there—an act of aimless oar,
That appeared to my heart nigh unfair.
Perhaps she came to my shore at wrong time
Amidst flurry of chores the year when ends,
And hurried glances were all we could steal,
Or Destiny's hand meant, we just were friends,
Yet, friendship never got to sink enough,
God alone knows, moments melted alive,
My defeated spirit fair witness was,
The hour of reckoning did when arrive.
Perhaps a false hope was still hanging on
Tenuous threads nigh weakened and slender,
And I began to think of a right way
And wrong, as I delved on it to ponder.
I wondered if it was heart's fluttering,
Or of mind that caused almost a ship-wrack
Upon our life's very first hopeful shore,
And hoped happy moments might still come back.
___________________________________________
Continued, Part II
Musings | 02.08.2011 | memories
Have you ever wondered once a memory is made if anyone really knows
where that memory ends up…where that memory goes?
Does it flow into our brain? Is that where memories start?
If so, then how is it that some memories find their way into our heart?
The other morning I was walking…the orange blossoms in full bloom
when I was reminded of my Grandma…they smelled like her perfume.
Soon a memory of her popped up…then another memory would stir
and before I knew it there I was…awash…in memories of her.
It was as if the scent of orange blossoms opened a faucet
a spigot…or a spout
and I had to smile as memories of Grandma came quickly flowing out.
I stood there for a while as memory after memory came to me
picking them out of the air…like oranges off a tree.
Memories of her stayed with me a while as I went about my day
some lingered longer than others before eventually fading away.
And this led me to wonder as the memories of Grandma faded
as the last one lost it’s glow
where did those memories come from…and where did those memories go?
Are memories patiently waiting…always nearby…hanging around
eager to be called up by a random smell…a sight…a sound?
And then I thought…I don’t need to know…
it’s really none of my concern…
where they come from…
or where they go…
as long as they return.
I woke up this morning trying to remember who I am
To the mirror I looked, am I a woman or a man
Maybe I'm somebody else, just another in my head
Or am I who I am, in my mind I sometimes dread
I woke up this morning trying to remember who I am
Asking why my friends have decided to be in my little scam
All my life I've wondered just who the hell I am
Again to the mirror I looked, am I a woman or a man
I woke up this morning trying to remember who I am
My mind has invented another, being deceitful leads my sham
Maybe I'll find the clues for I to realise my tomorrows
And return the names to the graveyard, but I'll doubt I'll sorrow
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-14.php
She was tiny but MIGHTY, not the other way around.
A doubt in her mind, it couldn't be found.
She knew she was bright and always asked "why?"
She didn't understand why no one knew, so sometimes she cried.
She needed to understand why the sky was blue, oh and also the
sea!
"Why do all of these big questions keep coming to ME?"
Her dreams were very big... And yes, it was noticed.
In fact, people often thought her dreams were HOCUS POCUS!
Still... She believed in magic, she knew it in her heart.
Dancing her way through the day was a perfect place to start.
People stared as she grew, loud and proud and bold.
She began to wonder whether she should believe what she had been
told.
Should she give it all up for what the big ones and the movies said?
Should she live a whole different life instead?
She tried... It was fun... But only for a while.
One day she looked in the mirror and it was hard to crack a smile.
Time passed and she grew to be a little grey, too early... Where did
her magic go?
There was a time where it was absolutely ALWAYS on show!
She wondered and questioned and looked at herself...
Had she been hiding away behind a really thick shell?
She peeped out and stepped down, just ever so gently... Though
this time, she spotted a face in the mirror that looked really
friendly.
She was younger and brighter... She shone almost like the sun.
She had met her before... She suddenly felt stunned!
She reached out and smiled with her most gifted left hand... And
finally, she felt that she understands.
It was her that she'd stared at, when she gently stepped out...
Of the shell that kept her safe for some time... But that actually
stopped her from expressing what she was uniquely about.
She was magic and bravery, all mixed in one.
A beam of understanding and smarts and did I mention fun?
She could make things and break things and start all over again.
She decided that day, to be her very best friend.
To this day, they walk together... Always towards the sun.
Because on either side of the shell, were two pieces of one.
The End.
Sitting in church at night,
She wondered at her plight.
Asked God why me?
Reason I don't see.
What is the purpose of life?
Why it is full of strife?
Why are we born on earth?
Why of miseries there is no dearth?
Will death end it all?
Or will I be born again to endure it all.
Please lord guide me,
I surrender unto you, help me.
Suddenly she heard the voice of God within
"When your sins end, you will see your soul within
Miseries absolves Sin
Have faith in me I am your kin"
"All those who surrender to me,
Are surely liberated by me."
With a smile girl went away,
She smiled at her miseries from that day.
Date: 12/18/2020
Contest Name : A Rhyme Story-Poem With Eyes On
Sponsor : Mystic Rose Rose
Premier contest winner 5th position
The sun beat down for two hard seasons long,
Their land was parched, where grass grew strong
Near death went by, and whispered a sigh,
Beneath a vast and empty sky
Watching the dust, with a heavy heart,
And wondered why, as life fell apart
Confused, we questioned, every day,
Why did Mother turn and look away
Then sudden tears from skies above,
A gentle deluge, filled with nourishing love
The heavens wept, a soaking grace,
Washing the world, at their own pace
The thirsty ground drank deep and slow,
Remade; this sleeping garden grows
And lilacs shy, with branches bare,
Woke to the moisture, in the air
They pushed new buds, a sweet delight,
Though autumn winds began with might
A second bloom, a purple gleam,
Gifts of a rare white; unexpected dream
We need to remember our heritage and the reason we celebrate the 4th of July.
Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence? Their story. . .
Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died.
Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.
Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured.
Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.
They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.
What kind of men were they?
Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists.
Eleven were merchants.
Nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated.
But they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.
Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.
Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.
Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton , Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.
At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General
George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.
Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed.
The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.
John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying.
Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.
So, take a few minutes while enjoying your 4th of July holiday and silently thank these patriots. It's not much to ask for the price they paid.
Remember: freedom is never free!
Breaking Apart
I wait for the world to break apart
Revealing the darkness of humanity
I'm just biding my time
Waiting for the end
I couldn't give a damn
I'm tired of caring
I'll rip their ideology apart at the seams
When my screams and dreams
Are truly worthless to them
My life is meaningless
So I'll destroy it with my own two hands
And they won't grieve for me
They will elebrate their victory
Dancing over a soaked ground
Stained scarlet with my own blood
And they can craft their broken world
Without the necessity of including me
Because at the end of the day
It's easy to say the words "I love you"
But meaning them is something else
And I've wondered for a long time now
If they really know the meaning
Because when they crush my dreams
Spit on my desires
And falsely accuse me
I could feel alone in a crowded room
And it's so easy to hope for better days
To want to believe something better waits
But I am done with it all
As I wait for the world to break apart
And even if I'm dead
I'll smile as them all perish
She still smiled,
even when she knew,
life looped over her,
like a hangman’s noose.
Imagined it was a melody she heard,
in the rising cadence of a dirge.
But…in her laughter was the echo,
of smothered sighs, shot involuntary,
from the corked up bottle of her heart.
In a hilarious company, she languished
like a cockle in the shell.
Seemed so calm
when a sizzling inferno burnt within!
Tears, long held back
froze and hardened within her eye pits.
Now a total stranger to herself!
On the beach, as the sunset hurled ecstasy
across the skies, she only saw the virulent waves
lashing on the shore and their tug, inviting.
On the way back, with an eerie interest,
she watched water lilies,
withering away in pools and ponds!
Neither cursed nor moaned
over her soiled identity;
but wondered why only discordant tunes
now came out from her flute
on which, once her rehearsed lips
created such harmonious melody!
Under her calm demeanor,
was veiled craftily the anguish of a life time.
Yet in pitch darkness,
counting the luminous stars in the firmament,
she lay-
a seed in wait
under furrowed lands
for the first summer shower!
(This is the sad story, I happened to hear of a woman who contrived AIDS from her lecherous husband who was a truck driver! But she put up a brave fight! I don’t know if she is still alive. It is so sad that often innocents have to suffer in life!)
There once was a tech enthusiast,
Name of Phil, and in him an obsession did persist.
It was with his laptop that he couldn't part
And so he took it, truly, everywhere he'd start.
In meetings, at school, and even in the loo
The laptop never went off, no matter what he'd do.
He called it his wife, with love and a smile
Said it kept him going, every day a new mile.
Late at night, you'd see Phil's face aglow
As he worked on his laptop, with no desire to go
To bed or to rest, for work was all he'd know
As he typed away, letting his ideas flow.
But it wasn't just work, it was about knowledge too
He surfed the web, acquiring new skills in all he'd do
From cooking to carpentry, he wanted to learn
All while maintaining his core tech focus with every turn.
People close to him, they knew him well
And they knew, wherever he went, his laptop he'd sell
His devoted companion, his trusty friend
On whom he could always rely in the end.
And yet, in his mind, it was more than mere attachment
It was a tool, a means for his advancement
In the world of tech, and in life as a whole
He longed for success, to reach his aspirational goal.
In one hand Phil held his laptop tight,
In the other, a hot cup of coffee for the night.
They were the perfect companions, through thick and thin
Simply inseparable, like a twin.
People often wondered, would he ever break away?
From the glimmering screen, that kept the world at bay
But Phil knew what he needed, and it wasn't far
Reaching new heights, reaching for the star.
Here's to the tech enthusiasts, out there in the world
With their laptops by their sides, always unfurled
For passion and drive are what make us who we are
So let's keep typing away, reach for the next bar.
let's remember, as we type away each day,
That our laptops are more than just screens in a way
They're part of our journey, what makes us unique
A reflection of our drive, our purpose, our mystique.
So let us salute Phil, for his drive and his heart
To chase his dreams and let his obsession play a central part
For in this digital age, and in all that we pursue
Our laptops are not mere gadgets, but a part of our soul too.