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Carol Davis Poem
Living the most complete life--
No man deserves less or more from living than another
From a tiny drop of nectar, a flower blooms
One blossom though different invites the same appraisal
Such is the life of a man…he merits happiness and fulfillment
Survey life’s purpose--
Assess what is the best and the worst that can come
If something is meant to be, it will find a way to happen
Never walk without knowing where to go
If no design, the desire may go unfulfilled
Follow the perfection of nature--
The butterfly flutters by radiating beauty
What is forgotten is how it attains its loveliness
Beginning as a hideous larvae, then the ungainly caterpillar
Bursts out of the cocoon as the magnificent butterfly.
Nature’s plan-- the butterfly thrives
Planning is the key--
Humanity mimics the beautiful insect
Once an unknown quantity, man wrestles with his prospects
A dream develops with deeply planted character and strength
Man takes small steps if he knows where he is going
Thus, a man finds the way to his aspirations.
Hold fast to dreams--
Planting the feet assures nothing
Impediments block the way
Sometimes, days open up like flowers blooming despite adversity
Sometimes, man leans too far forward injuring himself in his fall
Sometimes, he opens up his wings and flies needing no net to catch him
Test the possibilities--
To have a life well lived,
Man should venture outside his comfort zone
Do something that scares him every day
Dwell in the here and now but look to the future…
Grab hold of a smile and never let it go.
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
Emotional tension fills the air...
Lights and laughter everywhere
A fiesta audience waits eagerly for a night of passion.
The dance of Spain and a sensual dancer
The Andalusian Gypsy dancer
El baile flamenco tonight…Ole!
The guitarist enters…masterfully
Displaying his unique musical talent.
His music controls the dance
Finally, bailaoras, the great Camille, enters
More than beautiful, she exudes sexuality
Dramatically, her aura intrigues and mystifies
The Flamenco, some say, is animalistic
Elegant movements of the flamingo birds
So, much like the dancer's stance…
Camille points her gold slipper like a prima ballerina
Music begins--- she does not move…poised as a statue
The audience sits on the edges of their seats.
Motionless, no expression in the start
When she feels the rhythm, she responds
Camille claps loudly, steadily
As her emotions build, she begins…
Her back, arched and dignified
Arms elegant and poised
The flamenco begins torridly
Gracefully but fiercely, Camille stomps---
Golden shoes with their percussion sounds
Bedazzling her admirers,
No one knows where the dance will go…
That is part of the beauty of the flamenco
Her passionate moves romance or comfort her admirers
Thus, the greatest joy of flamenco dancing
Climatically building as a heroine in a play
Camille has no equal…
Astutely, the castanets click in her hands…
The difficulty of the dance emerges…
Hands and feet working not in synchronicity
But against each other
Her mother taught her well…
The dancer is the accompanist, moving her body
To the flying fingers of the guitarist.
Ultimately, the music ebbs away
Camile picks up her fan and looks at the guitarist
Both dancer and musician are spent...
Audience stands up, cheering and clapping.
This is the spice of life in Spain!
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
A tornado comes and goes so quick
Sometimes revisiting on the same day
Air humid, breathing hard and thick
Best advice given…get out of its way
Sounds like freight train bearing down
Delivers this –Varoommmmmmmmmm
Next best advice--don’t live in a valley
Respite from twisters in Oklahoma town
Not possible— it’s tornado alley
Here’s the scoop
May 5, 1960…The date of the natural crime
Wilburton, Oklahoma…quiet and boring
Me…my life, smooth and in my prime
Outside, trouble brewing, rain pouring
No wind—then dark---storm clouds
Sudden change and all so loud
No way to stop---nature makes it way
Tornadoes F4 hit twice that day
Up one hill, down in the valley, another hill
A path right through main street
Wiped out fifteen blocks with shocking skill
Score tornado 16, town 0…no receipt
Sadly, sixteen dead, hundreds hurt
Think disaster, destruction, devastation
Hail equates baseballs—certain disconcert
Wind 250 miles per hour, an aberration
On a personal note
Mom, sister, and I alone
Little sister told to put football helmet on
I get only, “You better pray. Don't groan."
Three females in bathtub…no put-on
Scared, hoping this was a no drop zone
First cyclone over…it was no spoof
Uh, oh, second one took the roof---
But not us…Prayed and prayed
God was there, though fear stayed
What happens next...nothing good
Can’t drink the water…
Dysentery, typhoid, cholera—it could
Can’t go to school
Smushed-–classes postponed
Can’t go to church
Smashed---future unknown
Can’t find food
Red Cross helps pick up the tone
Friends hurt, one killed
One man up in the swirl…
Carried him about a mile—life unfulfilled
No limbs left—no head to twirl
People scared another will hit
The normal long gone—some split
Build shelters, that's the name of the game
Yet, life did go on... but nothing ever the same
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
the gloves lay on the dresser
the strand of pearls nearby
her necklace went everywhere
but today there it would lie
a gift from her lover
she always told it that way
more truth it was her fiancé
to wear on their wedding day
a symbol that he adored her
“Get my pearls,” she would say
each pearl a year plus two
lives entwined come what may
the jewelry box filled with
exquisite and divine swirls
no piece meant more to her
than a single strand of pearls
fastened the clasp the last time
her lover was waiting now interred
today she will lie beside him forever
wearing the pearls that he gave her
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2017
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Carol Davis Poem
God knew that every child
Needed someone to be there,
So he created mothers.
The moment my child touched me
A mother was born…
This new person inside me came out
From the start, she was mine…I was hers.
Everything changed--you had to think twice
Once for yourself and once for her.
I turned my head—and she was a person
Little and unsure, but smiling at me
Saying mama first—looking like her dad
Suddenly, she was blonde, chubby and adorable
Smart, funny---she was my world
Without realizing it, I was hers.
As she grew to be a beautiful woman,
My purpose became clear
To teach her to stand alone without me
Now, her life is a success story
Once, she said, “I would be
Nothing without your love.”
She didn’t know that I felt the same.
Her new love—her husband—doesn’t discern
She still belongs to me…Loaned only to him.
Our relationship has changed
My daughter is now my closest confederate
A gender ally…an extension of me.
How much do I love her?
As the flowers need water and sunshine
Like the bear watches over her cubs.
My darling girl—happy memories of the past
The joyful moments of the present
She is the hope and promise of the future.
Heart bursting with pride, I watch her
Instantly her life changed—for she is a mother
Holding your child’s child…inexplicable love
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
Life is so different in the islands
Slow moving beauty beyond just the earth
Wailing waves climb like a roller coaster, pleading for surfers
On the North Shore, time is irrelevant
Love is easy on Turtle Bay…Now that he is gone
My heart feels a quick stab and I remember all
We sat together on the beach, thinking perfection
Sighing as I reminiscence, I long for the cool, ocean wind
Nothing compares with the enormity of the whale
Its splendorous magnificence weaves through my memory
The humpback propels its body out of the water—words fail
Tears stream and we kiss, feeling complete
Holding hands beach walking at sunset
A green sea turtle disturbs the panorama
Slowly returning to the sea after laying her eggs
Red, yellow, blue fish nibble on my toes---
Dolphins playfully nudge our boat
Pleading for attention—I touch its nose
It swims backwards making squeaking noises
I want to plunge and whirl with them.
Vividly, I remember standing on Waikiki
The vista of the infamous Diamond Head,
Its pointy peak formed by volcanic tuff
Climbing to its summit, God’s precision fulfills
Loving, walking, sharing—this day was our beginning
He stoops, picks a red flower, placing in my hair
Love blooms and I never want to leave paradise.
A beautiful woman places a lei over my head--nirvana
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2017
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Carol Davis Poem
The mythical fates had a dubious task
Sewing the cloth of life for men
“How did that work?” you ask
Well, get three sisters who sew
Give each one a specific job.
When done, down the tubes you go.
Anyway get the picture…its destiny
Clotho sews the cloth of life
Putting in all the events for a person
Joyful time or existence filled with strife
It was then that life could improve or worsen
Marriage, children, oops…divorce, of course
Married again, children, oh no….divorce
You forgot to remember…don’t use force
Or, you’ll wind up in the pokey like any dark horse
Lachesis the much important second sister…
Her job was vast and excitingly dire
The name was a tongue twister
Yet, imagine the names of all the men
Placed in a big jug…she’s been hired
To draw a name---uh oh…what did you win?
A one way trip up to angels or down to be fired
No matter ready or not, you’re officially a “has been.”
Well, are you ready for the third little lady?
Just so you know Atropos means death
Now let’s review…here’s a dry run.
Sewer, drawer…so what’s left?
Someone has to use the cutters
This third gal chops it off---life’s cloth
Word is she does not even sputter
One whack and a snip—it’s like flame to the moth.
Best advice…be careful when you refer to fate
These little old ladies take offense…uh, oh too late!
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
Indian woman
from the territories long ago
you no longer walk Mother Earth
Did the wind whisk you away?
I feel your spirit rising up in me
my Chickasaw blood blisters
from within...
I have lost my way
once, I saw you in a vision
your long ebony hair blowing
riding the pinto pony covered
with the red painted hands...
you wore no moccasins
only your leather garment
no saddle for your horse...
the horse's mane, your reins
the weapon you carried
sought a mark to enter
I wanted to travel with you
to ride far into the hills and hide
live alongside you in the old ways
my dreams come in ripples
through my mind’s eye
Indian woman, I yearn for you
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2017
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Carol Davis Poem
A brand new car gleams with silver and unblemished paint
Never belonging to anyone else brings its own desirability
Virginal, it might be called…longed for but never driven
Lovely girl with her makeup just right
Yearned for and desired by men
She chooses you, requirement virginal
Everything about a new vehicle cries out for purchase
Little down, guaranteed and under warranty
It’s tuned to perfection
Beautiful hair, glowing skin
Smiling with perfect teeth, matching figure
Her life geared toward marriage and family
Oiled with expertise
Mirrors adjusted and radio playing
Seats smooth as leather with that new car smell
Her guaranteed…must please her man
Keep the shape, cook the meals
The feelings…mutual, emotional, and sexual
Once the car gets on the road, things may change
That first ding in the car door
The rear ender that wasn’t your fault.
Three years in…two children later
Hair shaggy and skin pimply
Smiling but with cavities shining
Leaking oil after the too close curb
Radio lost its antenna only static
Smell is now of smoke and bodies
Five years in…three children now
Lost her guaranteed warranty…new car purchased
Newer, younger, and more desirable
Trade her in…get the best deal for the money
Wives and cars…hmm
How does this equate
God is the only man in her life
Work, children, and baby sitters
How will she pay the bills?
Parked in the garage waiting, this woman
Worried, alone, and struggling, this woman
Someone else will want to sit beside this beautiful woman.
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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Carol Davis Poem
Sitting on a shelf amid a thousand others
the spine, raggedy and hard to read
pulled it out---top, dust covered
I am drawn to it.
Old book
Written so long ago, the pages
seemed fragile in my hands
it wanted my attention,
I too want to know more
Book
First words—first page
“Never lose sight of who you are.”
tattered old pages knew me
this tome sought me out
Losing oneself
Life misplaced…how
husband gone to another
money never goes all the way around
alone, alone, alone, with silence
Losing myself
Turn to the end of the book
the last line—“You may lose the people you love,
you may lose the things you have,
but no matter what happens never lose yourself.”
Finding oneself
Do I know who I am?
when I was younger—I knew what I was fighting for
Llving for what I believed to be true
where did that person go?
Finding me
Name of the book
“Root Yourself in Reality”
author…Me
reminders to leave self-pity behind
Found
The person I once was---now, search inside
stop living in the past and in my imagination
the book has pages to be written.
now is the time
This is my book and my life
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11885372-My-Book-by-Carol-Davis#sthash.Ay9w7cew.dpuf
Copyright © Carol Davis | Year Posted 2015
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