I feel the torrent of pain racking my body’s life.
In despair, I hold my wife's hand so tight.
Tears and sobbing surround me; my family feels helpless.
Yet as the pain subsides, I smile, knowing I’m blessed.
I look at each of them, reminiscing about our life memories.
Watching each of them create a new family with their stories.
With each telling of what we lovingly remembered from our times.
Then a warm, gentle wind blows through, ringing the chimes.
I feel a new presence of love forming before me as I am in awe.
My family senses the calming comfort of the inevitable call.
I call forth with my last breath that I love them, to let me go.
Then my wife calmed my family and told me we are ok so I let go.
Brother Jesus held me, and he quieted my heart as I cried.
The time has come for my family to grieve as I died.
Whenever my thoughts are numb
A realse from the emotional strain
Though still struggling to find some
Not always are they easy to obtain
Perhaps a much broader spectrum
Not hearing the same thing again
l guess can seem a little humdrum
Though ideas like a run away train
But trying to find a sense of wisdom
Seems l am forever racking my brain
here l am exspanding my cranium
Though l'd say to the point of strain
Old write l scapted rewrote bits taken from
Poems a state of confusion and wisdom written in 2013 rewrite 2024
Is contetment merly an illusion
Something which l will never obtain
Still l am trying to find some solusion
To what l feel the heartache and pain
If l could come to any such conclusion
Seems like l am forever racking my brain
Just to have some feelings of absolusion
Though still admist thy emotional strain
Clairty hampered by meaningless intrusion
At these times not always so easy to retain
When ever l am in this state of confusion
My thoughts now like a run away train
2020 1997 originaly written part one of two a state of mind 2004
an ocean to compel my summer night
I need to be here
there in this dimension
an unequivocal force to move me
I am shaking
this is compelling
this particular universe is not quite multidimensional but here we are
his universe
he is
he is forceful
and I need his poetry with spoiled endings
and I need his love
this love - "rigged symmetry"
I'm nervous
this is nerve-racking
this memory of an ordinary summer night makes me nervous
and makes me need him
I am frightened
I need him
I need his heart
as cold as December
I need last December
I need his ocean
Falling in between family cracks
Only with shirt on your back
Sometimes life is incredibly wacked
The adults mistakes mean life is bad
Even though it’s not your fault
Racking brain with what you said
Keeping hope seems a lost cause
In time so angry you see red
Defying the odds determined to be
Someone powerful when grown and free
It’s almost laughable how often I’m found rotting inside myself.
Knees curled to my chest, lungs expanding and hesitating.
Sobs racking my body in violent tremors.
Silent.
Exhaling jagged breaths with trembling fingers.
You should see how exquisitely I break.
Blue eyes shimmering rimmed red, flecks of green, gold, grey.
Streaming.
Moon toned skin pink, blotched, raw.
Crimson staining cotton,
Painting the roses red.
Domestic Violence rates that mean
Children roam in gangs becoming mean
They are untouchable by the law
Racking up court appearances by the score
People are unsafe in their homes
Whilst these gangs assault and steal during their lawless roam
One two month old baby held close
Receiving a fractured skull for which we weep the most
This offender with 300 court appearances
Has been bailed 33 times with no adherence
Breaking into houses is his way
What penalty for this crime would make him sway?
How do we stop this anarchy
It’s Australia’s shame the world can see
The police seem to have their hands tied
Nevil Shute’s A town like Alice had died!
© Paul Warren Poetry
Ernestine
Miracle Man
10/23/2024
Dementia isn’t something
my loved one has chosen,
So I readily admit
that in patience I’m lacking.
It seems in a time zone
a memory has been frozen,
Repeating things daily
is quite nerve racking.
Things are lost daily,
and sometimes never found.
We no longer can agree
on a myriad of matters.
The smallest of things
are the easiest to confound,
I attempt to write
as my loved one chatters.
She hasn’t many thoughts
that she doesn’t verbalize.
But if starting life over
she’d still be my prize.
Yup ... there's no question about it,
I'm talking about sex, and all the
Calamity and comedy that surrounds.
Yet I'm not sure if the destiny will
Defer to the clumsy, or if it will
Remain nerve-racking on all grounds.
Because seriously, it is by far the most
Common and popular topic, that virtually
Everyone is scared to death to talk about.
Starting with the basics, the birds & bees,
Before graduating to STD's, I often
Wonder if the birthrate is in doubt.
This nauseating nervousness stays with
Us always, from the first dance to the
Last nuptial that we profess.
So as long as those butterflies keep
Flittering, we might get lucky with a
Sexual encounter, I guess.
It seems ironic that something so natural,
Can bestow so much anxiety with the
Mere thought of its success.
While we fumble along, sometimes pulling
A loose foot out of our mouth, but who knows,
We've done more with less.
Can’t resist the love I have
That comes from loving you
Promise me that - you’re true
Never to sell
To the highest bidder
Beautiful
Pointless
Painful
It’s so nerve racking
Promise me
Comfort me
Soothe me
Come and
Rape my
heart
Come and
Rape my
heart again
It’s the only way!!
Don't want anyone to see my tears
How could I live having so much fears
I know I am feeling alone
Every heart is made of stone
No one can know my pain
Every thing is racking my brain
Still I am smiling with a torn and bleeding heart
I want to escape out this art
The questions of life are daunting,
I search for a visible clue.
Unsuccessfully it's haunting,
And I don't know what I will do.
Racking my brain each day for hours,
I feel my resolve is sinking.
An enigma that soon devours,
I'm guilty of overthinking.
Trapped by this hopeless endeavor,
My sanity is all for naught.
I now find myself forever,
Lost in a labyrinth of thought.
After much brain racking and soul searching
Undulating feeling of anxiety and hysteria
Gathering my wits about me
Unbeknownst to my angels and demons
Summarize I did your idea of August…
Taunting us but with such an august month!
We tend to wish away
What we are afraid to say
Hoping things improve
Magically falling into a groove
Wouldn't it be awfully nice
If we didn't have to pay the price
Only reaping the gains
Easily breaking free of chains
Although it is simple sounding
Usually leads to feeling confounding
Relentlessly racking our brains
Trying to pump positivity into our veins
There is a roadmap to get there
Need to push aside your biggest fear
Realize you can thrive in any situation
Replace doubt with determination
Starting to turn the corner
Welcome what used to be a foreigner
As roots of hope take hold
Optimism now entering the fold
Take your time to water the seeds
Graciously tending to your needs
Sprouts spring up if lead with your heart
That's when your life can really start
The trees know very well
And so do the limbs.
Nature tells the limbs
To release the leaves because
Their provisions of shadows
And shades have now ended.
The wind picks up and scatters
The leaves as they quietly fall.
Fields of grains and nuts abound;
Opened cotton buds astound;
Boll Weevils are not around.
Fall is the harvest season when
Painted leaves begin to descend.
High-tech landscaping all around,
But not for the raking of leaves.
For 16 years and more,
This exercise of hard labor prevailed.
Most chores are less adored,
But raking leaves were never adored.
Once upon a time, there were four trees;
Then there were two; And then there was one.
I gladly say, now there is none.
The trees and leaves, I miss; honest I do;
I miss their quiet descent from smog-filled skies;
I miss the protection from solar rays provided to me.
I miss their treasured colors, their artistry;
But I do not for one New York second, miss
Racking the leaves of mulberry trees.
101722PSCtest, Painting prompted Poetry Contest
Lisa YY. Chosen picture:#2. 2P
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