Subside Poems

All I Want

Of all the things the world can give,
The hopes for which a heart can live,
The vast horizon, grand and wide,
Just one small thought cannot subside.
The noise of life is just a haze,
A passing blur of ordinary days.
For in this whole, wide, sweeping view,
A heart is set on just one thing, just you.
And if the future had a name,
It'd be the very same.
The world can turn, and time can burn,
But still, this simple lesson learned:
One doesn't want everything, just one small part,
All that's wanted is him, and all that fills your heart.

Hurricane Of Hurt

This immense pain in my chest
Has my heart aching and breaking
There's a hurricane of hurt in me
All the pain it is giving I'm taking

With gale force winds of sadness 
Causing swells of tears in my eye
As I'm holding on for dear life
I ask myself the reason why

Why couldn't I love you more
Why was it that we had to fight 
Why couldn't i make us work 
Why can't I make this right

I've been sitting here wondering
If you'll come home someday
Will this pain in me subside
Its causing my mind to fray 

I'm caught in this hurricane
It seems all hope is lost
But I'll keep holding on to you
No matter what the cost

Antiquities Door

I've observed my thoughts
They naturally flow through my mind
Some true, some scripted
Some redundant, unkind

These are my memories, creating emotions
They're my unique experience in this life
Viewed from a platform
Sometimes exposing a neurological strife

We must turn through all the pages
Go beyond the human history of time
It is there we find the answers
Stamped in our ancestral climb

Like waves in the ocean
That relentlessly pounds the shore
The past flows through us
Like a stranger knocking at our door

We try to avoid this stranger
We’re frozen with fear
But the knocking keeps coming
Year after year

It's the ancestral sound
Of those who came before
Surprisingly, the noise lessens
When we open antiquities door

Now the waves begin to subside
As does the ancient battle in my mind
I become the true observer of the thoughts
They're clear and kind

Cute Cat Couple

Cute cat couple in the house, one white and one black,
our lovely pets, we call one Kite and the other Jack.
Wherever we go our close company they always keep,
on bed by our cozy side every night they like to sleep.

Jack would climb and roll over my sagged shoulder,
Kite would lie on paining thighs, for I’m getting older.
Knitting a sweater my wife sits on the sofa with the pet,
fur and wool strands intertwine to make it a unique set.

In separate bowls we give daily food to Jack and Kite,
for we’re in need of peace, don’t like to see them fight.
In the closed room when sounds subside, I sit in the dark,
listen happily to the rhythm of our pet cats’ silent walk.

We won’t let anyone touch or caress our charming cats,
nor would like them called our animal pets chasing rats,
for Jack and Kite are like our beloved children we fancy,
we don’t care a bit if people call us a feline couple crazy.

- Let The Flowers Grow Again -

     The sound of summer is about to subside.
     Orange-brown butterflies in calm sailing flight,
     with fine arches and rapid wing beats.
     The admiral in parade uniform and magical wings.

     Autumn adjusts us,
     we slip into the sleep of the dark ages.
     The late-blooming flowers must also kneel.
     Birth, growth, decay, aging and death.

     Swollen buds, sprout once more.
     Floral splendor that soothes and heals.
     Where silence lingers and time feels slow.
     A farewell is melancholy, as dew in my hands.

Quicksand Hope

Quicksand hope hollow inside,
deranged dreams subside.
Shaky footsteps falter,
hourglass sands capture. 
Life loses the prop.

RESTLESSNESS

Middle of the night,
I woke up wide.
Staring at the ceiling, 
I heard the rhythms of my breathing.

Fidgety, I was on the edge.
Did I forget some pledge?
Special day of someone I adore,
Or I missed some pressing chore.

Delving deep into my mind,
I got no answer, it was blind.
Yet the restlessness did not subside,
Till I saw the date blinking by my bedside.

One year has passed,
I saw you that night, last.

FRACTURED LIGHT

In the mirror's gaze, a stranger's face
Eyes that once shone bright, now dim with time
The weight of shadows, a heaviness that clings
A heart that beats with doubt, a soul that sings

A whispered lie, a voice that won't subside
"You're not enough, you'll never be alright"
The echoes of memories, a bittersweet refrain
A longing for solace, a search for peace in vain

In the city's din, a lonely crowd
Faces that blur, a sense of disconnection proud
The noise of expectations, a drumbeat in my head
A desire to escape, to flee from the dread

But still I search, for a glimmer of light
A chance to heal, to mend the fractured night
A whispered truth, a voice that speaks my name
A reminder that I'm not alone, that I'm still the same

Instant Society

Instant Society
 Everyone is in a hurry.
 Instant society.
 Always demanding.
 Never appreciate.
 Instant everything.
 Instant Whining.
 Instant complaining.
 Always needing something.
 Greed needs more money.
 Instant controlling.
 Someone is always barking.
 Angry world, never subside the pain.

Awareness

Are we self-aware when we are awake
conscious of thoughts that arise and subside,
wherein our presence, tranquil like a lake,
across vast oceans does peacefully glide?

Entwined with space, as we imbibe God’s grace,
do we remain blissful in the dream state,
releasing each offering we embrace,
nonchalant to fears and desires that bait?

One with oneness, when we are in deep sleep,
employing power of bilocation,
do we therein take a consciousness leap,
skilfully surfing every vibration?

Dropping tendencies that bind us to form,
lets remain poised in God’s benign bliss storm.

Dress Down Unseen

Dress Down Unseen
 Stay hidden, the world will devour.
 Take over your life with power.
 Live a simple life.
 Fade into the night.
 Don’t be a part of the drama and gossip.
 Stand alone without them.
 You have nothing to prove to no one.
 Don’t stand out in the crowd for fortune.
 Walk the narrow road.
 Cast out all of your foes.
 There are many false prophets.
 For money, power, and being materialistic.
 Don’t follow the wicked.
 I want no part of it.
 A lonely life is fine with me.
 Dress down, subside from the.
 Be your own man by the sea.
 A corrupt world calls you by your number.
 You’ll be chained up in line to follow orders.
 Jesus calls you by your name.
 I’m just passing through because I am saved.
 Don’t lose your morals or values.
 The world will take everything from you.
 Work hard and be a good man.
 One day our kids will understand.

hiku 49

campfire stories subside

waters slap the shoreline

embers fade

The Gate

"By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find"
A scarecrow debates with the rust of his mind,
He’s stitched from the thoughts that the dreamers outgrew,
Wearing boots full of echoes and logic askew,
While time ties its laces with fragments of chance,
And memory curtsies in yesterday’s dance.

A teacup of thunder, left out on the sill,
Hums songs to the rain with a whimsical will.
It waits for a hand that remembers its glaze—
The brushstroke of lovers, or half-written praise.
A spoonful of silence stirs sugarless tea,
Brewed strong in the absence of who we might be.

"By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find"
Lies a map of all places we’ve yet to unbind,
Drawn in invisible ink from the mind’s other side,
Where calendars melt and assumptions subside.
Each hinge is a riddle, each post is a guess—
A portal disguised in familiar duress.

The gate never opens, the gate never shuts,
It just creaks with the weight of the ifs and the buts.
It’s watched generations hang keys they outgrew,
And whisper their whens into skies fading blue.
Still it stands like a question the past left unsigned—
"By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find."

CLIMBING GHANA

Courage was what fueled Nkrumah’s flame
Loyal he stood through storm and shame
Integrity carved in his every stride
Memorable his name will not subside
Beyond doubt Ghana’s finest head
In spirit and in stories still widespread
Never bowed to foreign hands
Ghana as Africa lost a visionary leader.

Generations rise on what he gave
Hope reborn from the hearts of the brave
Ashanti drums still beat his praise
Nation proud through darkest days
Africa’s light in Ghana lamp.

Black Birds Flying At Walmart

Black Birds Flying at Wal-Mart
I see them gather, flock on flock,
At 7:30am sharp, they start to squawk and talk.
The sun peeks up, the horizon glows,
The air alive with cackles and crows.
Their feathers bristle, sharp and black,
They soar and dip, they dart fourth and back.
Their eyes, a yellow shining disc,
Reflect the light, a golden whisk.
The parking lot, their chosen stage,
They flutter, and fly in trees they engage.
Heads turn left and then to right,
When they fly the sky turns a speckled night.
They peck at crumbs, on scraps they dine,
Their steps in rhythm, a sequenced line.
Among the cars, they dance and sway,
When humans enter their territory they fly away.
From tree to light poles they take their flight,
Under the Walmart’s neon light.
Upward they rise to poles they glide,
On top of Walmart’s walls they nest and subside.
On the back of the wind, they wheel, and turn,
For insects, food, their hunger burns.
The Black Birds gather on shopping carts.
Masses of Black Birds flying at Wal-Mart.

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