Overlooks Poems

when is love decrepit

will love be decrepit when
trust is just a word thrown when we cannot win fights,
an excuse rather than a gospel… or is it long before then?

will love be decrepit when
she is home waiting, and he is alone under neon lights,
both drinking, asking, “can we ever be in the same room again?”

when she cannot speak as chaos seep into her pen,
and he cannot sleep knowing they want different nights
when there's no words left to exchange, is love decrepit then?

will love be decrepit when
he tells lies to avoid explanations, and she overlooks them to avoid fights.
a facade of rose gold castle, but what comes after then?

the silence in the castle can blind us, when
we swallow our differences to avoid plights.
love doesn’t lie, but people in love do, is love decrepit then?

truth is never love’s friend, not when
love falters the minute truth bites.
when we ask “will love be decrepit when—”
—it's already decrepit then.

Django-Lego

We are partly into an early Spring and the horses' struts with their
heads held up. White Palominos all, majestic beauties they'd be in the
heart of the little village passing by the central square where the market
is full of life of sellers and buyers, to gawkers and talkers as well. 

Nearby is the marbled-tier water fountain brimming with fish life and just beyond is the village lake, also teeming with edible fishes unlike those inside of the fountain. Edges of Papyrus and tall Cypress grass and just touching the colorful water lilies. Ahh, they've just arrived and tied up the horses so they'd be secured, here on top of the hill that overlooks the tiny village but seemingly the town life seems to have come up onto the hill, now the hill is full of life.

Oh, I forgot, the village of 'Somerset' with its old charm, thick thatched rooftops with their upper windows of English Oak, post and doorways too. Peaches, Apples Banana trees. Daffodils, daisies, roses, pansies, gladiolas, and much much more. This is truly Spring, the other seasons will be along shortly. I am here, that's why the village is here. I wanted to come home to 'Somerset' and be buried here in the Spring.

On the Outside, Looking In

I'm on the outside, looking In
Quite often I feel like the only word
in a poem that doesn't rhyme,
or I'm a nickle, five cents short
when I'm in need of a dime.

You make me feel like I don't belong.
Distress is written all over my face.
I'm the only wallflower at a dance.
The shy one in need of a hiding place.

I don't want to be the odd puzzle piece
that everyone overlooks and rejects.
I have a heart that's been wounded.
Your ostracism has crippling affects.

Big Bird

The eagle flies with two wings, the left and the right, working together. The right says it's good, but the left says it's better. The body is one, resting at the center, the stabilizing, driving force of both sides despite the weather.
Together, both wings fly liberally and fastidiously across the plane. As one, the bird keenly overlooks and surveys the moving train.
From the train, many look up from time to time, but around November everyone looks up for a better view and peace of mind.
O' bird, Big Bird, with that eagle's eye just flying high, surveying and guiding the moving train as it passes by.
Sometimes the left will appear better while the right is lesser, or vice versa. But the direction is always the same because the body is at the center for sure.

Home

Surrounded by a white front porch
decorated with rocking chairs and empty mugs
a house becomes a home
   a wooden gate overlooks a long dusty lane
of falling leaves and golden oaks
sheltered from cold north winds
families make a house a home

Etching the Day

I love a room that overlooks
A river or the sea,
For, on a terrace with some books,
Is where I like to be.

A sunny seat, a view with boats
And birdsong in the air,
A husband who, upon me, dotes -
Why, nothing can compare!

A mid-day ice cream, browsing stores,
A walk along the shore,
A bowl of mussels, Guinness pours -
Well, who could ask for more?

But all good things must end, they say,
So now we’re heading home
And on the way, I’ve etched the day
Into my daily poem.

Reason

I start walking 
and shake off at the same time
shake off
painstakingly
each person
ties in eternal darkness
they prepare and self-cultivate
continuous scrutiny of life and death
candlestick lamp,In a cathedral space
light or extinguish fire,distorted
Sorrow echoes from 
a distant grave,smells of the end
The city hall that stopped balancing the books
it closed a long time ago
This morning's rainbow is caught 
In the city park
In the tree branches
it is complicated,it keep doing that
under the guise of an object
flying from 
person to person
It's boring to just wait for someone

I start walking 
and throw out at the same time
throw out
somebady is calling me
without hesitation,generously,incessantly
Crows have been singing 
for tens of thousands of years,did i notice it?
the sun slips down
the evening moon overlooks it
thick fog around
pass the dead walking with their heads forward  down 
I noticed,Up until now 
we've been walking backwards
I noticed that
we are not moving forward
So I can't see the future

My Thoughtful Spot

There is a bench upon a hill
That overlooks a lake 
And when I’m there, my heart’s bestilled
My troubles I forsake 

If places could be poems, then 
Idyllic is this psalm 
Its beauty stirs my inner pen
My soul to write upon 

Surrounded by these twisted oaks
In shrouds of lichen lace
I feel welcomed by these friendly folks
And at home in this place

A piece of heaven I’ve long sought 
Lies just over yonder 
And when I’m there, my thoughtful spot
Is where I sit and ponder.

Tell Me

We live distantly, one inside the other.
We house and rent the unwelcome and heaven sent.
I tend toward you
where your room overlooks mine.
Open doors keep us secret.
Where your breathe reaches I inhale.
Love enters through every window.
Chosen are we to be closer than blood,
otherness talks in the same mouth.
You have planted my garden
with my own willing hands.
Tell me what walls say
when the sky is all that is?

Drowning In Despair

Blood drained from my face, 
Accumulated into a scream.  
Never released,  
The silence was too fragile.  
Dripping into my lungs,  
I’ve finally found the ocean’s end. 

Droplets within watery depths, 
Lost starlight overlooks my eyes. 
The blanket of darkness muffles my sounds, 
At last I’m able to exhale. 
Heart racing towards death, 
Gradually slowing and slipping away. 

Somebody save me from the raging winter in my soul, 
If it were stabbed a thousand times I doubt I’d feel a thing.  
I sleep on a bed of needles in hopes of experiencing a different pain, 
But my body grew numb just like my emotions. 

Damp, soddened soul,
Heavy with the guilt of existence. 
Pained, shallow breathing, 
Pierced by my thoughts. 
Blood escaped from my lungs, 
I broke the glass petals of silence. 

Emotion chosen: despair 
Date: 08/08/2022 
Contest title: Strong Emotions Poetry Contest 
Name of sponsor: Emile Pinet

Love From a White Dragon

The four-year-old child became excited when the sky turned pink.
She began pointing to the mountain top which made us think.
She was actually seeing the white dragon of whom she spoke.
We were intrigued, but a bit scared, being simple folk.

White conch shell dragon, she said, look at his wings!
How did she know it was a he? Was she not imagining things?
Let’s go talk to him, she suggested, sure of herself of course.
We led her over there on her steed, a small miniature horse.

She spoke at length, and answered for the dragon too.
Telling us his name was Arthur Upright MaCoo.
He overlooks the valley and keeps the cows safe, she said.
Bringing a mystical pink to help look over this homestead.

Why did he choose us? We asked the child, wondering so.
He loves the valley, the farm, and the way you two glow.
We glow? We looked at each other and smiled so big.
And he likes the dog, the cats, the duck and our pig.

We felt cherished now, beloved in a whole new way.
What our child had related simply made our day.
So when the sky turns pink, we say hello to Arthur MaCoo.
We feel cherished, honored and loved. Now, wouldn’t you?

Stone Earth Angel Overlooks Park

genuine earth angel
she genuflects to the park
acknowledging Mother Nature’s Godliness
the flora and fauna admire her
wondering how she turned to stone

There Is Great Beauty In Sadness

There is great beauty in sadness
Icy exterior, unyielding, unrelenting
You raised these walls and hid in your fragility
But there is great beauty in sadness
And enemies still want you nonetheless

Heartbroken, downtrodden, betrayed
It seems you died a hundred times that day
But there is great beauty in sadness
And ghosts are even more translucent
For light shines through them with great ease

You thought that you deceived us with your poise
Vacant stare, lifeless words, a raised shoulder,
But there is great beauty in sadness
You never really understood my love
That true grace remains unspoiled by human malice.

You drove away your penetrators, slightly still
Your frozen castle overlooks the hill
An icy kingdom of gloom and silence
Its gates sealed, only penetrable by the wind.

How long will the mists conceal your eyes
My bitter princess, my frail Queen
If Winter’s here and Spring arrives,
Can Summer be that far behind?

A True Friend

A True Friend
By: Miracle Man
November 14, 2020


In life, 
If there’s one person on whom you can depend,
who showcases your talent for others to see.
Extend honor by calling them your best friend,
even though on occasion, you’ll likely disagree.


“A true friend is one who overlooks your failures
and tolerates your successes.”
Doug Larson

Trumpty Dumpty

Trumpty dumbty built his great wall
Trumpty dumbty had a great fall
A blessing from God
The virus he trod
Offense now taken by us all


King Trumpty overlooks the White House lawn
Spewing wicked lies like he's Satan's spawn
God wouldn't bless that man
Why can't people understand
He's ruining the country...Trumpty, BE GONE!

Jenna Logan

His rantings are filled with more crazy talk
But nothing he says should come as a shock
We cannot trust a single word
It's gibberish and quite absurd
Won't wear a mask and continues to mock

Jenna Logan

Did Trumpty have Covid nineteen
Or was it a stage managed scene
He sports a ‘healthy glow’
But for those in the know
Fake tan lines can clearly be seen!

Jan Allison

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