Short Beared Poems

The day is filled with cracks, 
     that spills into the evening
s h a t t e r e d   eggshells 
                  that can't be beared to be buried,
only placed carefully with the dried leaves...


A dog's fractured leg piercing the night air—
a heart, 
that still crumbles, since it remembers
...fragmented windows that still spill tears...

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I think we're out of time. 
I guess I won't cry 
my eyes still feel dry 
You're not fighting it. 
Our ten rounds must be up. 
But, when the gloves were off,
we spoke the truth. 
beared it all, but never saw it through.
My mind still floats 
between relief and regret on this subject.
We both took our low blows,
and stepped out of the rink,
only to jump back it....

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Things changes…
Those lights fade down,
With suicidal thoughts.
Unknown voices heared,
Pains being beared.
People may look strong,
But, what about those weak,
Weeping child of past.
I don't think that
Dark circles and wrinkles,
Are the markers of depression.
Some times a beautiful mask,
Hides everything behind.
But hope never changes,
 Everything will be fine soon....

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patiently, yet aimlessly
I have watched 
 as seasons change
I have felt the cold shield
 descend upon me
icing and frosting my already idle rhythms
 existing in my heart
I have seen the leaves fall
to once again, cloak the ground
whilst barley there
I too have heard
 the response
whilst the trees have beared all
so too; have I 
 patiently yet aimlessly:
without you  I remain...

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Saw us come, watched us grow
Will witness the day we must go...on
Saw us through the wounds we beared
Shared the tears we shed
For all we cared...
Lent us smiles that warmed our hearts
Never asked to be repaid
Like Mother's love 
Gives and gives...
Nurtures all we are
Like Father's foresight
Knows that day must come
When days must end.

Copyright 2016   Iger Rolyat   All Rights Reserved...

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Tears
And Fears
Fill my heart
Knowing you are far
It’s true there are cars
And friendship leaves scars
I can go all around
Yet no one will I choose until the day you are found.

One year
Two years
Three and four
Will I wait.

Until my boat returns
Then can I have fun
And all the sorrows that I’ve beared
And all the torture that I feared
Shall find peace 
And leave
The very day you return home
That very day will I smile again....

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Who gave birth to a child
The woman Beared the child
Her womb is the child's umbrella
Her stomach is the child's portion
We are too poor
He is miserable and hungry
They work tirelessly
All because of one anchor the stomach
The young the old all runs to die in the
Court of the stomach
The stomach is humans life
Some live to eat some eat to live
How long will the stomach keep
Humanity to labour for as long 
As the belly remains at human front...

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What is it about a mother that makes
her; oh-so rare? No 
matter the problem-Momma's always there.
Offering courage
or excitement;laughter
or some tears.Momma's always there
to help conquer
all your fears.
Two arms
and all heart
She will hold you tight,
and still offer
perfect and unconditional
love;when all
you want to do is fight.
So..what is it 
about a mother that makes
her always care?
It's the bond within her child..
The little angel that
she beared!...

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Who wants to be old,
All achy and cold,
All wrinkled,
All slow,
Unable to hold...

Onto anything dear, 
So filled with fear, 
So fragile,
So weak,
So stuck in one gear... 

Like a car that's been used, 
Sometimes abused,
So dented, 
So broken, 
So battered and bruised...

With a long white beared, 
With vision impaired, 
With teeth missing, 
Nose running, 
And still no one cared...

But now I can't hide, 
From the joy inside, 
From meeting you, 
Once, 
Before I died!...

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