What is a ripple without its rhythm?
Ripples and rhythm fashion life
Together like a pulsing heart
Rippling with the magic flow
Caught in rhythm like the beat
Flowing, swirling, with ups and downs
Creeping along with measured steps
A team of joined togetherness-
The Dance of Life goes rolling on.
If I should die
Before the dawn, overcome
by a morbid scene. Rise up!
My soul – step to the Light!
And the brighter dream heart
Keeps. Caged men may be subjects
Of time, forced to obey and
Bend, but the spirit once freed minds
No such rules, will love where it
Wants~ or offend. So, laid down I may be – cleaned,
Drained and perfumed—beyond then, life’s hurtful
Rhetoric~ nevermore be gloomed.
A grandson said to his grandfather,
"Grandpa, it is said that sometimes
'No' does not mean 'No'. It is said
That sometimes 'No' means, 'Don't
Give up on pursuing me, but come
After me more'.
And he also said, "Grandpa, one time
I saw a sign that read, ' Don't accept a
'No' until you have heard it twice'.
In reply to his grandson, the grandpa
Said, "Well, son, I don't know about
Such 'No's' as you refer. I only know
That I was taught, 'Yes' means 'Yes',
And 'No' means 'No". Anything beyond
That could lead to confusion".
The grandpa further stated, "That doesn't
Mean that I do not sometimes continue
Knocking on closed doors. But it does
Mean that principally speaking, for more
Than 60 years, I have known when to move on."
The autumn wind of fourteen-
ninety- nine
Blew over Basel in a crisp, sharp
line,
Where Swabian battles found their
silent close,
And from the ash, a sovereign
peace arose.
On twenty-second days of that
September chill,
The ink was dried, the clashing
swords were still.
The Holy Empire loosed its ancient
hold,
As Swiss resolve was etched in lines
of gold.
The treaties signed, the mountain
cantons free,
To chart their course of armed
neutrality.
While far away, across the shifting
deep,
Old empires woke from centuries of
sleep.
The month drew closed, the
modern world awake,
With every bond the Swiss had
dared to break.
A second half of autumn, fierce and
grand,
That drew the borders of a fearless
land.
How far can someone be pushed to the edge before they just jump
Self sabotage everything because you always feel your not enough
Walking on glass around others and understanding their pain but when it comes to yourself no one does the same
How far can someone go walk the miles in someone else's shoes
Before you forget you're someone else too
How much can you feel for someone else before you start breaking down
Is it your own emotions or just watching someone else drown
When you put in for someone else and give them the crown, but you get the scraps and try to keep them down
What does it mean when you lose yourself and you left it somewhere along the way and start to feel numb and it just never goes away
What do you do when your stepping on glass and hope it doesn't cut
Do you walk down the line or do you stop..
Two years ago, our story closed,
Yet you lingered in the margins.
Two months ago, in a darkened theatre,
You held my hand like a secret kept,
A love hidden from another love.
I thought it was a return,
But it was only a hiding place —
You wanted the comfort of my yesterday,
While promising someone else tomorrow.
Today, I no longer check the stars for us,
I check my own worth.
And it whispers back, clear and calm:
I deserve more than a love shown in the dark.
I deserve a love that can stand in the light.
Tea must blossom in the water
before its deepest flavour can emerge;
perhaps the heart is much the same-
we suffer less when we learn to let go.
But the longer the tea is steeped,
the more bitter it becomes.
And the more we turn a thought over,
the more tears that it can bring.
Yet bitter tea is not always unpleasant
and tears do not always mean sorrow.
Sometimes a cup grows darker
only because it has been given time
to become what it had always meant to be.
Steep it once, and it will be strong.
Steep it again, and it will soften.
Maybe people are like that too:
what hurts when held so tightly
will begin to loosen, inch by inch
when given time to breathe.
We do not ask the first cup
to be the most pleasant.
Nor should we demand ourselves
to wash away a heavy sadness
in a single moment.
Let it steep.
Let the days be water.
Let the heart slowly open
Let what is too bitter today
become gentler with time.
Some things are not meant
to be rushed away-
they are meant to
slowly
dissolve.
Yesterday you asked me if I was coming back
The birds went silent
The wind hid behind the trees
And time stopped dead in its tracks
As you.
And everything around us awaited a response
I was nowhere near ready to give
My face held a puzzled expression as we kept walking
I forced the air out from my lungs
Unsure of the right way to say no
So I said “Maybe”
Time went back to chasing the sun
And the birds started singing again
As I whispered to the wind
“I'm never coming back”
The door opened again
?For 26 days
26 days of hoping?
26 days of praying?
26 days of suffering
It was like 26 days in hell
?Around you, I could never be well?
Talking to you, I felt like I was in jail?
So now I quell you and never dwell?
On all the pain that made me fail
I don’t want to go through it again
?So I’ll finally close the door
?Hoping you won’t find a pit?
To make me fall back into it?
And make me suffer?
For another 26 days
All things come to an end
be they good, bad, or a blend
So, since summer too needs fall
best let it fall to Fall
When I moved from my parents’ house,
I really couldn’t wait
To start my life; the leaving was
A cause to celebrate.
A memory occurs to me:
When I approached my mom
To tell her of my plans to move,
I’d not expected calm.
I’d practiced in my head the things
That I had planned to say
When she would protest, practically
Demanding that I stay.
Instead, she offered me my bed
And dishes, pans and pots.
To realize she was ready, too,
Well, just connect the dots.
I liked my folks; we got along,
Yet it was time to split.
I had a job and never
Second-guessed things, not a bit.
Today it seems that, more and more,
Kids don’t renounce their claim
On their childhood homes and that, to me,
Is really quite a shame.
Lots of
people online
that we
do not
personally
know
tend to study
peoples poems
to psychoanalyze
their everything
but don't realize
the person
they might be
analyzing
is actually
very kind
and very calm
and very mature
but perhaps treated
like a servant
or maybe not
but they still hate
or they orchestrate
socially
engineered
situations
to try
and throw someone
emotionally
and spiritually
off balance
because their joy
offends them
which is maybe
why they restrict
and try to
judge folks
for how
they choose
to respond to
their jabs
and tricks
all while
everyone else
wonders why
I personally
always distance
myself from
other people
who take pride
in their cultural
sociopathy.
green turns into gold
in summer’s twilight shimmer
blaze before decay
our leaves are falling early
will either of us see snow
Look there; see Noah's arc is going down!
N Its looking like we're all gonna drown
So what was the problem? The hefty cause?
Iceberg breach? Captain overboard?
No I wish, Noah just had too many sons
And so now the ship weighs bleeping tons
You see: Noah had SO many sons
That the bad ones ate the good ones
To make room for the bad sons to fit
(Was some proper soylent green typa bleep)
It's too heavy now, the ship's going down
We're the bad guys n we're gonna drown
Come on, shovel the water out, on your side!
It's over now, but there's still time to bide.
Yeah I know it might be in vain
N it looks like water's coming in all the same
But trying never hurt nobody at all
We got nothing to lose, I mean really nothin at all
And either way, Jesus is coming n judging tonight
So... Best look like you're at least trying to fight
bruised cufflinks, scarred trousers
bleeding ties, marks of violence bear
featherless fedora, kicked-in once too often
lumps and bumps seen ‘midst thinning hair
life in the cosa nostra’s romanticized
~ eviction notices served traumatized
Moving On Categories
Definition | What is Moving On in Poetry?
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