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Best Poems Written by Damon De Ryckere

Below are the all-time best Damon De Ryckere poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Damon De Ryckere Poem

America

America
Well you should have seen turkey Sal
She fills herself with packs of Pall Mall
And not to forget about Coonskin-Cap Jack
Always a-travelling with a riffle on his back
The greatest thing a man can see
Is the vast environment of Tennessee
But I can't state that myself-
I love all of the country

America,
great plains and tall pines
Deep blue lakes and mountain peaks
High water and deep coal mines
Country houses and dense streets

I see a horse grazing on the prairie
And begin to think about the heritage
What Westward-bound means
And what is, in fact, genuine
But it is time for greetings, 
the time to thank
For what the harvest brought,
what we got from the land


America,
fifty-states of well-being
Some territories far removed
Beauty emerges for all the seeing
Places warm, places cool

The founding fathers, I respect so much
For they stood up for liberty and independence
Washington, Franklin, Paul Revere
As I am reading Thomas Payne's 'Common Sense'
So if I'll set foot on American soil one day
I'll be proud of the way I have come
Because in essence, Americans are the same as me
Only, they know the true meaning of freedom

America,
Lush visions of crippled desire
Brought to me by endless visons
Only connected by the telephone wire
The communicative prison

What the future will bring is uncertain
But this nation will stand the test of time
Greatness doesn’t have to be restored;
Greatness is merely a state of mind
So come now, and share a thought
Choose your leaders wisely and be assured
That whoever will become President
Will do what he/she should

The advertising man looks down on his desk
And finds ads from the archives
It says: ‘1958, Lester and Grove Inc.’
He gets a glass of Bourbon
Does he represent America?
The heavy workload, the tired workhorses
The freedom of working is no freedom at all
But it is far better than them communist dogs

America,
Deserts and far stretched woods
A fire in my heart, a warm embrace
The sunset gives a certain mood
To a man on a wild-goose chase.

Copyright © Damon De Ryckere | Year Posted 2016



Details | Damon De Ryckere Poem

On a Sunny Day

On a Sunny Day

Why is it that beauty
is so hard to attain
We try to reach for it,
grab it with our polished nails
Until they break off
Because we were to stubborn to admit

To admit is to realize
To realize is to be awake
To be awake is ought to be
Ought to be not deceived

Gautama on his side
entering the eternal light

Yet,
I am asleep
Because I can reach for beauty
But it vanishes in Fall
		Resurrects in Spring
Flourishes in Summer
And is gone by winter

As a little bird on the window sill
I tend to stand still
Looking inside the room
Eating my sweet potato pie in the afternoon
Supper is there, brown is her hair
Eat

Copyright © Damon De Ryckere | Year Posted 2016

Details | Damon De Ryckere Poem

The Surreal Vision of My Friend the Spear

It was late night in the Jazz bar in downtown Aalter. I was sitting at a table by the staircase, looking at the lovely-looking barmaid from time to time. The bar was luminous and vibrant, and surrounded by the darkness of night. Protected from the cold, a stronghold in the storm where the common troubadour travels through, on the wings of self-awareness. Out in the harsh and lonely vacuum of lost romance, wearing a coat of despair and a small necklace of hope.
I drank from my coke and peaked through the room with gentle, easy-going eyes. Strangers came in and went their way. I went outside to have a cigarette and a black woman left the building. She was kind enough to greet me, and went on her way.
That is what it is in life. That jazz bar in Aalter is a scale representation of life. People come and go, some will stay in your lives, others will only remain brief encounters and others will stab you in the back as a thief in the night. I had to think about that sweet little girl that had left me weeks prior. I was over her, but felt isolated and left alone as a stray cat.
Do I miss her? Not really, no. She was a Judas-like figure. I would have washed her feet if she asked me too, enchanted with her as I was. But she planted a spear in the side of my chest.
But she drifted from my mind, eventually. I couldn’t care less about that fearsome ghost of my past. So I began to think of my new love interest. Oh baby, was she a sweet, sweet girl. But one thing kept my away from my feelings. I was stuck in limbo. What is the way to go? At which point should I stop to take a well-deserved rest? Am I right or am I wrong?
Both probably.
But as long as I do not give up hope, I won’t wear my coat of despair no more. I am free from the burden. I am free, and love may be just around the corner, looking at me from the corners of deep blue eyes.
But it could also be far away.
It drove me nuts, I have to admit that. There were so many things to think of that particular night.
Love.
Anger, disappointment.
Disillusioned with the world.
Desire.
Her lips,
eyes and face.
Oh Lord, have mercy on my tortured soul.
I got up, took my coat, and threw a last gaze at the pretty blonde-haired waitress. My eyes fell upon a painting at the wall behind me. It depicted the trials of Christ by the hand of Pontius Pilatus. And what did I see at the side of Christ?  My friend the spear.

Copyright © Damon De Ryckere | Year Posted 2016


Book: Reflection on the Important Things