Reanimate Poems

Omni

I'm stalking the ground.
Treading the lines between,
  half human and distorted frequency.
Slowly, I recede. I'm choked off from everything.
  A distant recollection, an obligated memory.
I barely made out. Shadows of insecurity obscure my mind.
  Fruition in a haze of lies. I'll reanimate. I'll tell myself anything.
I'm losing my soul, and it's the cost of everything.
  If anything goes, then everything goes with me.
It's all my fault; that's what you said to me.
  I'm losing my mind. A decomposing family tree.
I try to remember, I can't remember anything.
  If that's what you want

For all the ones that aren’t and never will be

Grab it
Hold the feeling
Clench that burning fireball
While you’re crashing through the ceiling
Bash your head into the wall
And show them
What you can do
While you hold it to the sky
When the abyss stares right back at you
You’ll just spit into their eye
They won’t take us now
They cannot win
Live like you’ve always been dead
Reanimate yourself
And then
You’ll see that you have never bled
Untouchable
A skin of stone
You’ll never see a crack
You and you
And you alone
You’ll take the world all back
Today’s the day
For them to pay
More than ever before
The impure
That never were
They’re here and waging war

This Petaled Beast of Love Mr

The rose inside my heart
This petaled beast of love
Now tortures me.
For like the Little Prince
I favor her
with sunsets
Tend to her needs.
And yet
I taste the sting
Of loving’s thorns
While dreaming
Of long distant
Faded dawns.
For time has made me older
As she thrives
For changing seasons bring
Roses new life.
Reanimate
This rose
This love
within my heart.

//The Rose Inside My Heart Poetry Contest//


©3/23/23

Moments

Moments fly off and leave a trail
behind you like dust clouds.
Most settle somewhere
in the forgotten, become irretrievable,
no longer connected to your life.
Some survive and accumulate 
on the sticky frame of what holds
you together, particles which,
by themselves, mean nothing,
but in number become the narrative 
of your past.

Some find their way here,
arguing significance, others
bubble up as if defying gravity,
free of purpose, life's loose coin.
You spend much of your time
sorting through the odd collection,
arranging into orders
of magnitude, of pain, or joy
or how much they've shaped
who you are.

In the quiet still of evenings
when you are alone,
they seem to reanimate 
and gorge like aphids 
on the branches of your life.
Sleep is no refuge. They come back
in dreams dressed in different guises,
playing out the variations on a secret 
fear or grind away trying to resolve
something you left
incomplete last week
or a lifetime ago. Each morning
as you come to, they rush in
to reassemble you, adding more,
and at the same time,
letting a little more of you go.

Mother Poetry

We are all made of verses
we are all magic... alchemy
we are pulsating vibrations
vivacious in inspirations
ethereal and passionate
with power to reanimate
and move the world in harmony
we came from the same source
of our  enchanting mother,
Poetry.... !

Memory Moments

Memory Moments
 
Held hands
Made plans

Life goal
Be bold

Life run 
No pun

People know
Peep show

Year in
Year out

Century in
Century out

Kiss now
Milk that cow

Day
Night

Monstrous
Fright

Full Moon
Silver Spoon

Freeze
Wait

Now
Reanimate

Free
Verse
-or-
Vers
Libre

Never
Perverse

Not
Zebra

Beer
Glass

Broken
Glass

Idiot
Fool

Nasty
Pool

Polite now
Wonder how

President’s dream
Money scheme

Milky way
Bale hay

Shout out
Never pout

Wonder how
Bless now

Star night
Stage fright

Moose fight
Monster fright

Twilight
All right

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
October 5, 2021 (Short-Line Free Verse)

Go Cupid

My hearts an open gate 
so hurry don't be late 
just ask me on a date 
reanimate my fate 
You got a real good trait  
you always fill my plate 
with chocolate after eight
My kisses are in wait 
if you say yes, thats great 
Its Valentine I'll bait 
now Cupid you go straight 
into my lovers gait 
and hurry, don't be late .

Mississippi Voices

Dark echoes of the past reverberate 
In Mississippi voices filled with hate. 
This morning nooses hanging from a tree 
Remind us all of lynching history. 

Some people claim great progress has been made 
And racist attitudes, in time, will fade; 
If this is true then why do people try 
To resurrect the Old South's battle cry? 

To say Jeff Davis was a patriot 
Is simply vile and apoplectic rot. 
He was a traitor to his very core 
In spite of false heroic Southern lore. 

The South was built upon the backs of slaves 
Who found no freedom 'til they found their graves, 
And those who try to sanitize this truth 
Reanimate the hate of John Wilkes Booth.

No Title

As the spirit of Lazarus, I animate. Reanimate, from a bizarre slumber to a palpitate night air. Gulf winds intrusively herding heavy clouds like spirit cattle, bearing arcane riders of esoteric threat. Even the paunchy feline whom lays upon my window sill like a tapestry, raises his head in diagnostic concern.  Search the meager commorancy. Search the garden. Search the street. Search the air I breathe. Search the sky. Question the felines. Interrogate my own consciousness like a paranoid constable, inquiring of a delict event to come, or that hath already come. No evidence. Only my own spent cigarette that nursed my uneasiness and succored this dark morning probe of delirium and aberration. And now, with one final breath, cessation. Quiescence.

I Remember

Touch me
reanimate me
bring back
the memory of you

I hardly 
ever remember you
the pain
of you

floating in
some remote
current of
my blood

I carry
the pain
of you
passing over

like a sea
that refuses
to give up
it's dead

I often grope
around me
trying on
your embrace

but I feel
no love
where you
once touched

I wish for
your hands
stroking my
physical aches

I search 
for your
soul less sun
in restless sky

I remember
your face
like a flower
newly opened

resurrect me again
bring back
the night
of that day

when moments
were centuries
now an abyss
since you died

Red Lights

Red lights flashing 
And my heart defaced
Fighting feelings I can’t describe
Tracing patterns within the rhyme
Out of empathy, out of time
Spiraling down the kitchen sink
Languishing in thoughts abated
Searching for a love
To reignite my spark
Stone faced and hard hearted
I know not from whence I came
Standing in an alleyway
With red lights flashing
Watching the dead reanimate
By a single tear of mine
By a solemn prayer lost in time.

Hope

Hope


A frail boat our life is in the middle
                             Of a tempestuous ocean,
An exotic blooming flower,
                           In an ever-burning desert,
A fruit-bearing tree, rooted,
                           At the heart of solid rock,
A delicate existence, surviving,
                           At the top of the Antarctic,


That is why constantly we are searching for:

A calm friendly harbor of understanding
                                                To anchor,
Some precious drops of vivifying water
                           To quench our thirst,
A few priceless pounds of soil
                           To plant our hungry roots,
A sparkle of life-giving fire
                          To reanimate our frozen body,


 And surprisingly, 
We discover all these treasures
Hidden, in the depths of our indomitable soul,
In the form of ever-living Hope!



 © Demetrios Trifaitis
   30 November 2012

Bearer of the Wine

Into my mind, a muse is wont to slip.
Capriciously she comes to visit me.
She brings exotic wine that I might sip.
I then reanimate with poetry.

She glides on tiny noiseless slippered feet
to catch me unaware by night or day,
and swiftly I imbibe her liquid sweet,
for never do I know how long she’ll stay!

Too well I know before I’ve had my fill,
the drink shall be withdrawn.  She’ll leave my head,
and when she’s fled, my brain grows cold and still.
I clutch the verses left me in her stead. 

Forevermore, I pray, may I be graced
by her who bears the wine I long to taste.

Staying Alive

STAYING ALIVE

Awake!
Mixed feelings
The morning sensation
All fears   expectation
Still in place
Bold reluctance 
By responsibility replaced
Leech and drive on!
Reanimate! 
Rejuvenate!
Staying alive!

Deadened Soul

Reanimate my soul from deep within,
I feel like one of the undead,
Still walking, moving and breathing
But unfeeling, uncaring, unseeing.

I feel coldness in my veins,
It flies through my bloodstream,
The iciness freezes everything
That ever made me human.

Darkness covers me like a 
Heavy blanket suffocating me,
I'm choking on everything yet
Nothing, panic sets in.

I'm fighting to breathe, to
Be allowed the freedom
To do as I choose, I'm
Weighed down by expectations.

I hold my knees to my chest,
Curl into a tight ball and I
Let these crimson tears
Flow from my eyes.

I cry for the pain, for the 
Loneliness, the hope I once
Had, for broken promises,
Betrayals and a still-beating heart...

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