Documents of Croatian
Documents of Croatian
Foreign correction
In oils blemishing
So fine
The jealousy of time
In all worlds
Cannot stop us
As poverty
As crime
Time peaces us apart further
Than our refusals mimes
Hatred in poise
Taught nothing
In passing glance
Times rot
Beckons fascination
torrents of tears flowed
when he saw a sea dragon
beached dehydrated
for he knows that it like him
could only shed tears on land
the tears were salty
welling from bag of sea brine
in the ocean's blood
he harbored in his body
as fluid to bathe his cells
he needed to cry
but till now tears would not spill
weeping on ebb tide
to wash moribund eyes clean
and inhale with a fresh breath
he fights the current
gripping on to refusals
yet the water wins
the dragon prowls in the foam
its searing breath flares fear
one tear another
fell soft on scalded shadow
fell on dragon's eyes
sending the sand grit flying
washing the stall clean of grime
fear sinks in the tide
form of the trial changes
relief opens gate
as ocean consumes his past
dragon wings have unfolded
tears were the pivot
to beat the challenge
breaking resistance
setting sails on favored wind
on the course past the dragon
How does a person forgive in a world so cold?
Do they go on walk, once, thrice, or tenfold?
Or do they simply vanquish all the wrongs they recall?
For when meaning meant nothing yet everything of all
Forgiveness can be easy if the damage is sparse
Other times harder than diamond, rough, yet so loud
Of the few rare times, forgiveness is given without a doubt
For sometimes the pain is easy, something without a pout
There are some days we simply refuse to forgive
And some days we simply apologize without forgiveness
In a busy, fastpaced world with yes, refusals, and yes many doubts
Forgiveness can be the enemy as it can also be the only safe passage out
Captain cook
I built a ship in a vale of stones and thorny bushes
It took 24 years and more to set sail on a dream
boat to China
I met her on the blue sea of Malaga, sailed on her
til she was 71, sought refuge in coastal waters
anchorage in the town of Mandalay
Deep sea ships have limited sails from port to port
are not allowed to stray from the chart, set by the man
in charge; every ship looks the same, is practical and sleepless.
Not. once did they let me be in charge; go back to your galley, you mad cook, they bellowed, you will only collide with the Dogger bank.
I built my ship, four decks, and a bridge
too far from shore to be of annoyance to anyone
The locals called me Captain Brave Heart, the man who
cleared the dale of snakes.
I'm tired, it took so long to be a slayer of words
ankle-deep in sad rejections.
I'm the master of my literary refusals, words
to feed the flame of elimination
I'm reaching for the unattainable,
Longed for it for so long,
It's all I can think, smell, taste or dream of,
He's beautifully flawed
And he's all I've ever wanted,
Full in touch,
But empty in words,
The moment passes
And I'm alone again,
Foolish to think I'm the one,
Foolish to believe I could've been enough,
Longing to cry out these feelings,
Stuck in refusals,
Screaming in empty spaces,
Echoes bounce off walls,
Where has my ghost gone,
Hope for memories to revive,
Clogging all senses,
Hating you when you leave,
Mouth full of white lies,
I love you anyway,
Leaping off the deep end,
Can't swim,
So I drown,
Where have you gone,
I can't find you in the body next to me,
It's hard to say I've been wrong,
Impossible to accept,
I'll remain alone in the end
Unrequited Love And Sad Nightly Calls
Wherein solitude, shades long day's travails
my desire for your true love yet remains.
Nights arrive, I battle through living Hells
death knocking loud with heartbreaking pains!
O' that your deep sorrows, you had not found,
into your private island had not fled.
Now, I am buried in unholy ground (*suicide*)
each night a pale ghost rising from the dead!
Yet I struggle, in haste to fly to you
with ghostly arms, begging you to follow.
You heard sad moaning voice, asking not who
your refusals, bitter pills to swallow!
O' that I had lived and gave you my all.
You would love me, not hear such nightly calls.
R.J. Lindley,
August 7th, 1975
Sonnet on (Death, Unrequited Love and Suicide)
Searching through the forest,
chasing dreams your sleep has wagered
And finding yourself in the mindless
spatial wasteland
You play two-handed poker
with the devil of your fright
The Prince holding just one card,
as you gamble it all…
Forever promising:
“This hand will be your ticket out”
He deals chance from the bottom,
this third time to be the charm
Your hand is folded,
as the present fires upon the night
Hitting your fate dead center,
all that’s left in quicker sand
Drowning the last excuse
of your bloodless past refusals
Salvation left in full retreat
—all exits thrice denied
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Never let intelligence
Get in the way of good judgment
Never let excuses
Inside your dreams
Never let the refusals
Cancel out the invitations
Never let tomorrow
—destroy today
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)
Searching through the forest,
chasing dreams your sleep abandoned
And losing yourself in the mindless
spatial distance
You play two handed poker
with the devil of the night
The Prince holding only one card,
as you gamble it all…
Forever promising:
“This hand will be your ticket out”
He relays his wagered truth,
with a baton of shattered tears
But time recovers,
the present firing upon the night
Hitting it at last dead center,
the debris now quicksand
Drowning the last excuse
of your bloodless past refusals
Salvation now in full retreat,
—all exits thrice denied
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
"FEMALE LOGIC"
last night
I slept in her car,
it wasn't because she kicked
me out, it wasn't because I
popped off at the mouth, it
was because the security
alarm was set.
the morning
came and with it, my expectancy
to see her face.
this wasn't
the case.
in a message to her,
I expressed that she needed to
drive me to the corner so I could
avoid any imperial entanglements.
this was at 9AM.
after a few
refusals, excuses and finally being
ignored, I left.
as I walk down
the street, she pulls up.
"you need a ride?"
I get inside.
"you're confusing.
I do what you ask and you get
mad." she says.
the time was 11AM.
By: Chicano Eddie
9-28-2016
(This moment ...of today’s new found moon)
I am cradling the moment
as I would cradle you ….if only you would let me
I have cupped it in my palm….in a small boat of white
…blue sails full of the warm summer winds that crest over my thumbs
Two yellow earth moons rise …one and two over
the western waves of my pointers and pinkies
They flirt and romance you in the moment ....with dabbling night lights
They curl around the earth
…just like you and I
always swirling around each other
twined vines…circling …rising
growing strong in our gravities force
but denied full union by the pulls of any other source
our ever ...up rooted love
our twine...our vines …cut back as if by morning light
only to grow again in 52 fortnights
Come to me in moon dreams…my love
Let me cradle you
...this moment is kind and the night is blind to refusals
and our love is always rising upon the ever edge of the glass ceiling of reality
Return to me …with the incoming tides
made higher still by today's two moons
and this our gravity..... eternal
The world is a place of illusion,
An illusion which mortals would never comprehend
This is a place of vision, of submission
Of something they would never understand
……………………………….
Life is drama,
Without any rehearsals
Without any comma
Or any refusals
………………………..
Love is another thing
Incomprehensible
Irreversible
Unrepeatable
Unthinkable
Another common fling
…………………………..
And deatth
No words
It always pours
Never rains….
Waves refuse to cease,
Kissing impassive shorelines:
Countless refusals.
The God of fire
It took him twenty years
to write his novel.
Twenty refusals later
he gave the manuscript
to the fire which
greedily absorbed it.
A phone call from nowhere,
send us another novel.
It took twenty more years
to write a new book
and the god Agni
burnt his hands.
As a thank you.
Success at last he cried
to a man with a yellow helmet
carrying an axe.
REJECTION IS YOUR RELIGION
I hear tell about perfection
I choose to talk about rejection
as in I reject the notion of perfection
and rejection lately seems to be my selection
I select to reject the thought of your inconsideration
and constantly causing me nothing but aggravation
I see people holding hands as if they are one
while i'm in love with a loaded gun
I never know when that gun will fire
and the situation I find myself in is dire
i'm in love with someone who won't even give me a chance
and uses her words as a weapon such as a lance
she refuses to try to please me in any way
and doesn't care about a thing I say
all she cares about is her and her alone
while she remains stoic as a sedimentary stone
i've grown weary of her refusals and denials
and my deepest love she constantly defiles
her lack of compassion is beyond belief
while she's stolen my heart as speciously as any thief
well once stolen what's gone is gone and faded away
as she continues to contradict anything I say
she prefers rejection over perfection any day
and turns every blue sky in a saddening sky of gray
© 2012.....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
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