between my ears
is a large grey mass
aptly protected, encased
soft to the touch
and defenceless
it could not survive
on it's own
and yet
with a little help
it's potential
is almost limitless.
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I am not quite sane
which bothers me not
for I am not alone
of us there is a lot.
I am not crazy
for this I know
I am in control
so do not woe.
I work not in a post office
or own a gun
but still, it makes one think
what if I did own one.
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Closed bottle boy
stuck inside
unable to hide
from watching eyes
Closed bottle boy
inside all alone
outside life unknown
preys for escape
Closed bottle boy
grows old
in death's hold
freedom is near
Closed bottle boy
death is here
no more fear
boy float's free
Closed bottle boy
away boy flys
the bottle cries
Rest in peace
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Generation of computer junkies,
yuppies livin' in a consumer culture,
grandma's sellin' crack,
16 year old makes a livin' on her back,
that's life in the 90's.
Cheat on your wife,
live your own life,
sex is a tool,
your anybody's fool,
that's life in the 90's.
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At the end of the day,
when your alone with your own mind,
and there's only yourself to answer to,
will you be full of answers or more questions?
When you look into your minds eye,
are you proud of what you see,
or is there only darkness?
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I can be the abused child,
the unspoiled babe,
I can be both of these,
yet, one in the same.
I can be a Word Smith by trade,
a friend for life,
the holder of sorrow,
the giver of advice.
I can hunt the hunt,
and walk the lonely road,
dance the Poet's dance
with countless untold.
I can be a poet at heart,
a thief in the night,
willing to share,
all that I write.
I can be the darkest shadow,
the stormy night,
the bringer of joy,
the barer of light.
I can be the rock in the quicksand
the calm before the storm,
the mender of hearts,
the friend scorned.
I can be the breaker of promises,
the thief of tomorrow,
the ruin of dreams,
the giver of sorrow.
I can be the king of fools,
a jester not surpassed,
the giver of laughter,
that will always last.
I can be the lover of many,
yet not of myself,
never sharing,
all that is felt.
I can be the catcher of tears,
the sower of hopes seed,
the gallant knight,
the doer of good deeds.
I can be all these things,
yet one in the same.
We can all be these things,
on any given day.
Which you will be,
only you can decide,
for only you will know ,
deep in your heart inside.
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You are the air that I breathe,
for you make life worth living to me.
You are the sunshine's golden rays,
for you fill my nights and days.
You are the soft sweet rain,
for you comfort and ease my pain.
You are the warm caress of the wind,
for you stir passions fire within.
You are the purest falling crystalline snow,
for you show me a world few have known.
You are my morning, noon and night,
for you are the wings that gives our love flight.
You are all the elements and seasons joined in one,
for you are my world, my life, my love.
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A bright smile,
a pretty face,
all the right parts,
in the right place.
That soft voice,
those fancy clothes,
that wonderful smile,
that only you can show.
The way you dance,
out on the floor,
always leaves me,
wanting more.
Of all the special things,
that you do,
I love you most of all,
because your you.
Oh your hugs,
so tender and sweet,
makes my heart,
just skip a beat.
Though loves may come,
and loves may go,
my love for you,
still grows and grows.
As sure as the moon follows the sun,
and day will follow night,
I'll stay with you,
through wrong and right.
Of all the special thing,
that you do,
I love you most of all,
because your you.
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AUTHOR of this poem.
Hawk
Black and brown
on feathers laced.
Holding still, a quivering
spot in space.
Above the earth
a soul is freed, a tether cut.
Wings against the wind
and frail night.
A fleeting spark in empty
space.
Then without reason he buckled,
folded and fell to earth,
limp and weightless against
the wind.
Relentless flight ending
in despair.
Feathers scattered like
Autumn leaves across the
land to rot.
Death or life,
rebirth.
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Stand tall, carry yourself with pride
On this inescapable day
You are to be his gentle bride.
Walk delicately to his side
Through the scented petals of May
Stand tall, carry yourself with pride.
Even though you know how he lied
And your bouquet has turned to gray
You are to be his gentle bride.
There is no place for you to hide
The haughty, costumed hounds will bay
Stand tall, carry yourself with pride.
Sadly, after the knot is tied
His song will continue to play
You are to be his gentle bride
Hope lingers still, Love's tears have dried.
Do not let Hurt define your way
Stand tall, carry yourself with pride
You are to be his gentle bride.
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Into the day
and night
ride the creatures
of the nightmare,
when Reason sleeps.
Fear thrives
Love wanes
Suffering grows
Compassion is murdered
Chaos rules -
through the day
and night
heralded by the creatures
of the nightmare,
when Reason sleeps.
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Sun dreams come, I have no care
magic sun beams fill the air...
Summer life, the easy time
when passion does a gentle climb
reaching up to the azure high
of castles built, in a perfect sky.
Scents and colors everywhere
bring to me a wondrous share...
Rosey days and jasmine love
feathers from a rainbow dove
make a restful bed for me
of nature's best, come soft and free.
Tender breezes touch my hair
whispering love words bold and fair...
Words to keep and love to see
sunlit days appear for me
to help me through winter strife
I'll always remember, summer life.
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Food from trash that none would dare to eat,
and just my coat and hat to keep me warm.
No bed to call my own except the street —
when shadows stalk with night's foreboding harm.
As dawn breaks forth streetpeople now must stir;
"I'll mooch a cup of coffee if I can."
Their eyes view me as just a seamy blur —
perceiving I am something less than man.
I walk the streets alone each day
and strive for that which others never give a thought;
it seems so futile just to stay alive —
until a sidewalk grave my blood has bought.
Then once again from monolithic towers,
the twilight plummets shrouds which fill the street:
where midnight practices it's evil powers;
my soul cries out as hope begins retreat.
"If there's a God in heav'n or hell who hears —
I pray that one decides and quickly sends:
hell's grave or grace relieving all my fears.
No matter which, at least this vain life ends."
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The words I planned to write
and some to say
have now become
another yesterday
Things I started doing
not yet finished
now are ever
gone away
The thoughts I thought
in fleeting moments
not remembered
now forgotten
Could have shaped my destiny
but now are dead
erased for all
eternity
Time I could have captured wisely
now so dearly cherished
gone forever
ever perished
Closer to the journey's end
with haste I must begin,
before I find tomorrow once again
is yesterday
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Mortal souls in sin's cocoons now trapped:
Embryos in cyclo-chambers snared,
Burst the shrouds of death in which they're wrapped,
and resurrect in beauty uncompared.
God's Power will make new life burst forth in flight:
man's soul reborn, to worship now he flees;
as moths on wings seek out their destined light,
man finds fulfillment down upon his knees.
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AUTHOR of this poem.
As leaves turn brown in autumn,
hastening forth to winter's death -
So my soul begins to darken,
questioning . . . will there be a springtime ?
Will I awake and resurrect
as lilies burst from last year's graves ?
Can my mustard seed of faith
become in springtime . . .
. . . an Eternal Tree ?
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Trepidations now begin to pass,
a smile has learned to linger on your face,
and footprints left behind in withered grass,
the settling dusts of time will soon erase.
Leave broken-hearted feelings far behind,
and look toward yon horizons gleaming bright-
View ecstasies and pleasures you will find
if smiles become your only guiding light.
Let the compass of your heart now show:
the paths to joys of life you can embrace,
and hold your head up high so all may know-
a smile has learned to linger on your face.
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Before saying I Do
i run away backwards
chuch doors unswing
the car peels away in reverse
at home
i uniron the tux
unshave unshower
and feel a breeze of freedom
as i unclose the window
and spit up a cold beer
while inhaling a sigh of relief
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she is blind
to her beauty
she knows her dirt stained face
has no glory
if she could just dance
waltz palm covered pools
see the ripple's caress
then she would know
but there are no pools
in the alley
and dust smothered streets
will never let her see
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my God
why have you forsaken me?
thought you and i had a plan
i tried so hard to do it your way
not my way
spent my time with losers and lepers
fed a few
cured a couple
just now getting it right
and it's time to go
so many still need my touch
memories,
i've got a few
the touch of M&M's hair
bathing my sand soaked feet
that look on the face of Judas
when i stared into his hyena eyes
man, i thought he'd wet his pants
& remember those times Father
when you and i talked in the desert night
how your voice floated in the breeze
maybe you call me now
but pounding gloating nails
drown your whisper
just one last thing Father
and then i'm gone
forgive them
they know not what they do
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Every night before I drift into a long, lonely slumber
I longingly gaze at your picture
Smudging the frame with my sweet, sad kisses
I hug the picture to myself
In the hopes that for just a moment
I can feel that you are right here with me
Instead of hundreds of miles away
As I drift off to sleep I envision
How it would feel to hold you close to me
The sound of your heart beat playing like a lullaby
Contenting me to sleep
As I feel whispers of your breath,
Lingering warmly upon my neck
It is here, within the confines of my dreams
You come to me and we fly to another plane
Getting lost in one another
Spirituality and sensuality slowly intoxicating our
senses
Then the sun filters in throught the curtains
Shattering the nights wonderful illusions
Reality nudging me to realize you are no longer next
to me
I come crashing back to a conscious state of mind
As I wait for time to answer me this:
When will I be able to be with my sweet, precious,
love?
When will i be able to engage my love in a blissful
kiss?
Bonding body, heart, and soul with the slow, sensual,
greeting of our
lips...
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I imagine...your soul beckoning me for a closer look
I imagine...your arms welcoming into a loving embrace
I imagine...your feather kisses tracing the contours,
Of my delicate face
I imagine...the euphoric bliss of being entangled
In your passionate kiss
I imagine...you wading through the pain
And into the depths of my soul
I imagine...you releasing these chains of mine
I imagine...the feeling of you and I sharing the perfect
union
Of the heart, mind, and soul
I imagine...being drenched inside your surreality
Thirsty for your thoughts and affections
I imagine...this to be the kind of dream
Where one remains eternally suspended
In a state of subconscious being
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AUTHOR of this poem.
People say they learn from their mistakes
Well I do and I know that you do too
You and I have been here before
Standing at the edge of a new beginning
We may not have been together
But we both stood here at this line
Wondering if we should cross it
And leave everything behind
Or stay here and forfeit a new chance
A chance at life
A chance at happiness and freedom
We knew what we did wrong
We looked back
We did not suceed
But we couldn't go back
Cross back over that line
It was like a gate
Invisible to the naked eye
But it kept us there
Like to prisoners
We could only look to each other
For the advice, sympathy
And courage
That we both needed so much
I helped you
And you helped me
Eventually
Over time
We got through it
And now older
Wiser
And more mature
We stand at the line
Only this time
There is no gate
To keep us in
We're free to cross
Back over into
Yet another
New Beginning
Dedicated to: NNG
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You ask me why I value hope?
It is because I have lived in despair.
You wonder how I broke down my walls?
It is because I needed the warmth of the sun.
You are amazed at my self worth-
It is because I started from the bottom.
You sense that I have so much to give.
It is because I have kept it to myself for so long.
You try to understand my positive outlook.
It is because my tears washed away the negativity.
You are mesmerized by my endless humanity toward others.
It is because I can't let anyone else live through
what I did.
And finally, you wonder how I ever survived?
It was because I chose to let the bad memories die.
Death can be a good thing don't you think?
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The lightening awakens the mind
Like a knife splits the boundaries within us
And the rumbling of the thunder
Reminds us that the soul is still hungry.
The wind blows the leaves from the trees
Matching the wild hair that protects the softness
of our face
And the rain dampens the ground beneath us
Like the tears the escape the walls of our emotions.
The morning welcomes the sun into the timid sky above
Like the smile that slowly fondles the corners of
our lips.
The warmth of the golden sunshine
Shows us that the soul is no longer hungry.
Yes, the soul is like a storm.
Sometimes seeking permission to erupt,
Or without notice explodes into a rage of fury.
The soul - the storm - both seeking approval.
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A shell on a summer beach
Filled with age old sand.
It has many hidden things to teach
Of this beautiful mystery land.
Endless admirers
Out number those destroyers.
As it still survived
The torments of nature.
It has traveled many waves
And explored countless horizons.
The sea surrounded the shell
Captivating it with knowledge.
The freedom of the shell
Moves against the skyline of memories.
Never speaking...never to tell
Of its sights, its mystery stories.
A shell on a lonely winter beach.
Feeling the cold waves of the sea,
Patiently waiting to float, to reach Its destiny
that will forever set it free.
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In the early morning light
The sky looks down to greet me
Good morning and I marvel at its sight.
The rays of the sun cover me
Like a homemade grandma kind of quilt,
Comforting my fears that try to break free.
The day before me will challenge my weakness
Like a lion stalks his prey in the dark forest,
As his stomach growls from the hunger he possesses.
A few clouds find their way above me
Making a double of me with my own shadow
And helps me to escape from the power at be.
The night has come and the sky is dark with thought.
Its blackness hiding my shadow, giving me permission
To slip back to the comfort that I have always sought.
Quickly my soul begins to come alive to the sky above
Like a slow motion replay of a flower opening in the
wind,
The darkness covering me, protecting me with its calming
love.
While others rest their minds and dream of tomorrow
I will stay awake, planning my careful escape once
again
To a place where only the real me can go - alone -
to grow.
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I Stand on the shore looking at the ocean
watching the foamy waves curl and break,
sounding like a roar they race in motion
reaching the sand as far as they can make.
Then run out again as far as they can
before they are recalled by gravity,
to return to the shore where I stand
watching foamy waves race to meet me.
Farther out, the watery view catches my eye
to see the deep blue ocean dip beneath
the far horizon as I stand and sigh...
farewell to the foamy waves, I bequeath.
The salty ocean breeze wafts upon my face
while the foamy waves curl and break,
someone else will watch the sounding race
of the foamy waves as they curl and break.
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Hunger strikes humanity wherever it can,
human frailty is ever present on earth,
tiredness turns to sleepiness in man,
human bodies need rest and nourishment,
the basic human needs of life overran
the poor beggar's need for enlightenment.
Within us all beyond the basic are needs
to be filled in religion, education or art,
within us desire and need plants the seeds
that may someday blossom and grow unless
someone throws our desire out with the weeds.
Give aid and help to those down and out,
so their basic human needs can be met,
and then may find peace of mind and recount
the dreams and desires of their hearts,
and know fellow humans helped to mount
their minds upon other things than their needs.
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In this existence we call life
tears and anguish are our friends
when society explodes into
violence, crime and bloodshed.
Outrage runs rampant in the young
not caring who or what is hurt
no concern for the aged or infirm
speed and money are their gods.
Some may say “where is God?”
why does He allow this to happen?
But, I tell you, He is very mindful
of His creation, this earth.
He does care but can’t interfere
with what happens here.
The time is not yet ready,
more sin is yet to come
as righteousness is increased
so is hate and vile sin on the rise.
Then He will come, once again,
to release us from this awful vale
of tears and anguish; the whole
earth to cleanse and set right.
Weep no more for our plaintive
plight, one day righteousness and right
will prevail and sin will live no more.
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Country singers come and go
belting out their cries of woe
of mostly long lost love
or emotions they're short of.
We're here so short a time
being happy with life is no crime
let's live without sadness
singing of hope, joy and gladness.
Making the most of this good earth
and all the creations here are worth
much more than all the songs of woe
so have joy in our creation's glow.
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