Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
- - - Call her “Tempest”, for hers are eyes of storm.
- Winds of passions held at bay, a torrent of tears uncried,
- - - - Fulmine sparks caged in those confines
- yearn to flash unchained into the night,
- - - - - and peace is seldom found behind the clouded walls
- - - - - - - - - in her eyes of storm.
- - Her face provides no inference nor does manner hers supply
- - - - - - but the slightest indication
- - - - - of the tumult found inside.
- - - Wild and twisted tresses hers do hint with subtlety
- - - - - the wants, the needs,
- - - - - - - - the hopes,
- - - - - - - - - the fears,
- - - - - - - the sorrows
- - - - - - - - - 'neath veils of lashes bound.
- - - A sharpened tongue and razor wit, iced cold with frigid stares,
- - are evidence more of the battle fought within those founts of tears.
- - - Her clouds spiral ever faster, and her waves mount higher still…
- - - - - - - - her tormentuous seas
- - - - have victims claimed,
- - - - - - for none have yet them tamed.
- - Within those eyes of Tempest rage unfettered memories
- - - - - - of sailors many and sailors for whom
- - - - the task proved beyond reach...
- - - for yet has one to brave those eyes
- - - and weather well the gale…to find the calm I know is there
- - - - - - - - within her eyes of storm.
- - - I thought once to be a sailor, to face undaunted the wind and rain.
- - Methinks I once caught sight of sun amid her skies of darkened gray.
- - - - - - - I know the calm is in there,
- - - - - - - - - in the heart of this hurricane,
- - - - - Though I doubt 'tis I who'll find the peace
deep within her eyes of storm.
- - Yea, call her “Tempest”, call her “Storm”, call her “Calamity”,
- - - - - - - - but fear not the rain,
- - - - - - - - nor winds, nor waves
- - - - she'll hurl in direction thine,
- for somewhere beyond her wall of clouds
- - - - - - - - - is Eden in her eyes of storm.
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
My nightmare is so tangible...so vividly I dream,
The dream, it feels so true to me...reality it seems.
Exhaust and smoke are all I breathe...the air is full of smog...
The job I do is thankless toil, but I work it like a dog.
There's mercury in the fish I eat...there're toxins in my food...
And drugs, they are a constant scourge...myriads for every mood.
Bipolar is my government...a house divided 'tis...
And corporations drive both sides...in the pockets of "Big Biz".
The icecaps, they are melting...the sea is rising, too.
Pandas, condors, polar bears -- empty cages at the zoo.
My money ne'er seems quite enough...I'm always out of cash...
My freedom fled when I wed my bride...(live I under the lash).
"Entertainment"? Reality TV...maybe some vampire shows...
Or idjits becoming household names for being beachfront "ho's".
People clamor "climate change" from the seats of S.U.V.'s,
And bitter news on the honey front...what's killing all the bees?
Politicians spending more...we go deeper in the red.
Opinions dressed as "news" abound...is journalism dead?
Cell phones are ubiquitous...conversation's endangered now...
And "Kardashians" are famous girls..but who knows why or how?
How strange my twisted psyche is t'make real what must be fake...
Now'f only I could find some way to get myself to wake.
Written on November 27th, 2012
By Daniel Beus (Rebel Sun)
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
Marie Curie, the radiant,
In wits and style above the gradient.
Declared she that wigs would be "in"
Along with glowing skin.
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
Outside your window
I waited as in a dream.
There beneath your sill
whilst in my most int'mate thoughts...
Again we were tasting bliss.
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
It's chilly where the sun once shone,
Mem'ries haunt when I'm alone,
Bereft of joys that I had known,
My dreams all torn apart.
Scorched the earth where flowers bloomed,
The dust and ash my hopes consumed,
Hes'tations, doubts our passion doomed
Ere it had time to start.
I want in vain for solace dear,
It's dark where once the skies were clear,
When naught but what might be I feared
And the course our love would chart.
Promises broken,
Words unspoken,
Deep wounds opened,
Eyes that cried.
Wrongs not righting,
Constant fighting,
Unrequiting,
Love soon died.
It's cold here where a flame once burned,
It's empty where for you I yearned,
It's dead and life will not return
To the cinders of my heart.
Written for "A Flame Once Burned" Contest
December 1, 2012
By: Daniel Beus
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
Two, a couple, 'twixt them a divide...
O'ercome if both can divorce pride.
Written for "Two Timer's" Contest
October 14, 2012
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
"Ere the full moon I must be home,"
she cautioned me in pleading tones.
"My father, he will be waiting."
My youthful desires frustrating
for an evening with her alone.
Afternoon kiss...her blue eyes shone...
Our love, her father to condone,
so back home I am her taking
ere the full moon.
Good intent, but with two tires blown...
"He'll understand." She: "You don't know!"
"Not a far walk"...her head's shaking.
Eyes like honey, deep sounds making.
Sunset...we run for life and home
ere the full moon.
Daniel Beus
October 7, 2012
for: The Ultimate Halloween Contest Free Poetry Contest
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
A passing instant, a sharp memory,
In a crowd our eyes met, exchanging vows.
The moment passed and she was borne away...
So I search knowing not the wheres or hows,
While on th'edge of a dream, she waits for me.
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
Night falls and shines th'moon.
As senses ignite, I stir,
yearning for live flesh.
Written for the "Spooky Ku" Contest
October 14, 2012
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Daniel Beus Poem
Like retired folk for Florida, the British for their tea,
Like China is for foreign debts, trash dumpers for the sea...
Like Russians are for alcohol, and Ethiopia'd be for rain,
Like Catholic priests for altar boys, like masochists for pain...
Like Greenlanders for climate change, like Iowans for corn,
Like the Taliban for burkas and like teenage boys for ****...
Like Tokyo for neon lights, like Vegas is for fools,
Like women are for shiny things and men for power tools...
Like indians were for blankets (but not the pox inside),
Like Clinton for his interns, and cultists for cyanide...
Like the overweight for Big Macs and like everyone for weed,
Like North Koreans for every grain of rice, I'm thankful to be free...
Free to say whate'er I please, to refrain from eating peas,
Free to pray upon my knees, to wank until I bleed...
Free to kiss a bloke or lass, to call my boss a "horse's ass",
Free to eat 3-day-old hash (but not to smoke a bit o' grass)...
Free to buy a working gun (being careful not to shoot someone),
And 'f I don't like a politician, against him I am free to run...
Finally, I thank God I'm free to decide myself who I want to be,
To live this comic tragedy like it is a tragic comedy.
Copyright © Daniel Beus | Year Posted 2012
|