Suddenly, without expectation.
There he was.
Friendly, jolly little fella that many called Santa.
Standing within the room with various presents.
Next to him was two little elves.
Two little people barely shorter than him.
One a female.
One a male.
Helping out the jolly little fella.
They didn't see me pretending to sleep.
Seeing the sight of Santa has always been a dream of a child.
Just to imagine him took over my imagination.
All the stories told to different in opinions.
But many was exactly like I remember.
Except, one of the person looked like Mom or Dad.
I never heard of them in any Santa stories
So, I dose off to sleep after my dream came true.
I have seen Santa like I never knew.
He was joyful.
He was kind.
And magical too.
Cause I imagine in my sleep that he rose through the Chimney unto the roof.
So when people question, if he's real?
I'm living proof.
That all kids parents, are Santa too.
Some just refuses to tell you.
The Island Moorea,
In the heat, the sun,
The rhythm of my footfalls
crunching loose gravel road,
The swish of pack swaying
in consort to my measured pace.
Breeze pushing branches of Palm,
Ocean waves breeching shore line long.
Island vehicles passing, occupant's laughing,
a man laboring under large pack, alone walking,
Who could have been freely riding.
Something unthinkable to Island Folk,
in hot tropical places.
Passed along the way several humble homes,
Greetings exchanged with smiling people there.
Not long afterwards, new sound approaching,
crunching gravel, rolling up behind me.
A lovely young girl, perhaps still a teen,
long brown naked legs peddling a bike.
Hair jet black, long to her waist, wearing
a sarong, split up the side,
Shoulders bare and brown.
Dark eyes of wonder, sparkling of youth.
A radiant smile adorning her splendid face.
We went for a time at my even pace,
looking and smiling each in our place.
"Hello there" I said, she giggled, beamed
even bigger. Perfect teeth displayed.
"Why you walk?" She asked in puzzlement.
"To get to where I'm going". I replied
This response producing a pleasant laugh
from the girl. In which I too joined in.
"You go One Chicken?" She asked
I stopped then and turned to her.
"Where is One Chicken?" I questioned
with a grin.
She raised her graceful arm,
one finger pointing up the road.
"One Chicken there." she informed.
It was a store/bar, sort of place,
In the very midst of nowhere.
Indeed more than merely one chicken roamed,
Many chickens were and a pig or two, as well.
All mingling free and doing their thing.
We entered from out of the bright daylight,
into the deepest of darks,
Like in a movie theater you arriving late.
Eyes adjusting slowly to what lay ahead.
A few Island Beers later,
I had acquired several new friends,
The girl my invitation to the party of
already happy people a little drunk on beer.
The Music was mostly of French persuasion,
With a bit of Bob Dylan thrown in.
The Beatles also had a tune or two.
The Liverpool beat resounding down Tahiti way.
Before the light did fail, I shouldered my pack
and walked some distance from Chickens and Pigs.
Found the beach, hung my Hammock for the night.
Built a small fire and opened a can of Spam.
She appeared again about ten,
looking beautiful in the new moon light.
She had washed her hair,
still damp and smelled fresh of Lilacs,
Or some such aromatic scent.
We did not speak, no words were needed,
Made love on the sand, 'till the retreat of the
tide and sand crabs did come out, in their
eerie numbers, to eat what was at hand.
I suppose even us if we let them.
We retired then both to my hammock,
A pretty neat trick if you can swing it.
And we did.
She was so child like and yet,
very much a woman grown.
There was no pretense shown,
no false inhibitions rendered.
These were not limitations of her culture.
A people that live by their emotional impulses.
An open and free spirited people living
passionately within each minute.
It all felt more akin to a dream than real,
All around me there was beauty,
Loving and being loved without hurry,
Free of guilt or even a single expectation.
Living in that wondrous moment,
of uncomplicated human splendor.
Like some Garden of Eden surrender.
In the morning we swam in the sea,
frolicked like kids having a day at the beach.
Made love in the sand, I dozed in the sun.
Upon my awaking she was gone.
I waited an hour or two, packed up my camp,
shouldered my load and returned to the road.
A few minutes later, again I heard the now
familiar crunch of rubber tires,
rolling road surface and there she was,
a straw basket in her Bike's basket,
A huge smile on her unforgettable beautiful face.
We sat in a grove of trees,
among birds singing, insight of the sea,
Upon a Palm log and ate fresh bread and
fruit, drank strong black coffee (French Roast
I presume,) nibbling some marvelous cheese.
We tried to talk, but she understood little of
what I tried to say, my French was nearly
nonexistent, only adding to confusions sake .
She leaned her head on my shoulder,
the way lover's do and tenderly held
my hand within her two,
As if not wanting to let go,
Those gestures said all there was to say,
And we savored each silent moment.
We parted there, she on blue, rusty bike
and me on "shanks mare",
Off in two different directions,
Each out into the depths of our own lives,
Gone just like that. . . And yet,
Indelible, never to be forgotten or replaced.
Moorea do yet visit me, in dreams as real as can be. She never
grows old, nor does the beauty we shared for that one brief moment
in time immortal.
Someplace among the Islands of Tahiti there is a woman in her late fifties,
most likely a Mother, even by now a Grandmother. I hope she recalls as
fondly the American blond man with the big Orange Backpack, that in 1972
she meet upon the road, near "One Chicken" and loved freely and completely
for two days and a night, as that man does so fondly remember her.
I'm no poet, you all are poets. I'm just an old guy with memories and
little stories to tell. Thanks for letting me share.
"I'm fine." is her response.
but, she isn't. she's just hoping to convince herself that she is, when she smiles and tells them she's fine. Just to ease her little mind, she's puts on a mask. She folds up all of her problems and disappointments and shoves them away. Just for the day. Thinking maybe, just for now, she could be happy. Thinking if she forces that fake smile, it would one day become genuine. a real smile. A genuinely happy smile. That's all she ever wanted. But the thing is, nobody knows. nobody knows who she is inside, or how hard it is for her. Not her parents, not her best friend. Because she wears a disguise. And because if they knew, they'd say she's exaggerating. She wants attention. She's just having a bad day. well the bad day turned into a bad night. A bad week. A bad month. A bad year. But she doesn't want a bad life. She doesn't try to make herself miserable. She tries really hard to be happy. Sometimes too hard. She's learned not to expect anything from anyone, because with great expectation comes great disappointment. So much disappointment. Enough to make her sadness turn into emptiness. she's rather be sad than empty.
When I saw myself in darkness and fear,
I could do nothing but call on our Dear,
I knew He is always near,
With my lamentable prayers He always hear.
Before I knew Him I was doubtful,
With my evil deeds I was never fruitful,
The time came I realized He is merciful,
He changed my life and I became bountiful.
How happy I am with this manifestation,
That God gives me this affirmation,
He leads me to the right direction,
Heaven is all beyond my expectation.
Brothers and sisters let's all prepare,
Our love to God we should declare,
Let's glorify Him, call Him anytime, anywhere,
God conquers the evil and let's do this in prayer.
How great and mighty is the Lord,
Sing Him praises, persistent studies in His word,
Let's bind with Him the holy cord,
All things we can do by using His faithful sword.
I was freed from Satan's cage of vanity,
God changed it with life of solemnity,
Where existence was bounty,
Life with God is eternity.
I existed because of His infinite love,
With sympathy to humanity and harmony from above,
All my hurdles He had removed,
Doubts and questions were resolved.
And from thine lips, the truth
released behind the transparent
glass. Life-body extended into the
mind that's expanded with chemical
imbalances. You have walked
away with a piece of my soul.
Rays of warmth hit to cause perspiration
frozen over by the expectation that,
unfortunately, lives with a heart beat of it's own.
Sending sound waves into my black
The truth rotting away
the enamel due to the barricades
screwed into our jaws.
We must die our complete skulls.
Here is my key. Will you give me yours?
Their framed faces read
"we expected this"
because I excelled in regurgitation,
crossed my i's and dotted my t's
for twelve years straight,
and never fought back.
Never challenged the system,
never thought I could be doing so much more than
I stuck my course
and sailed headfirst
I never impressed,
never caught anyone off guard by being more,
only when I slipped off cliffs and became less.
No one expected that
and the corners of their
mouths turned down
when they saw me trip,
but in a picture frame on the top shelf, their faces read
"we are proud"
because you did nothing but the bare minimum
and still got by,
because you squeezed out at the last second in time,
because you only tried to do
No one expected this for you
and you did it anyways
and they were so proud,
beaming with the light of seven sunrises
and aglow with the light of seven moons.
They filled their faces with genuine gold for you,
while I got nothing but a forced copper grimace.
And I smiled back because
I expected this, too.
Grazing off the Screen
the little things that you sometimes wrote
I came to collect and keep close
So slow, does my lung breath
as a palpitating tremor
and stirred within
the mind that thinks
"when will it come?"
My tears from crying
"will I detect"
"if I shall have expected it to arrive"
In sugar cubes
complete, and on time
as diamond brick streets
to tumble down as ice to melt
down my cheeks into my mouth
or welled up in pools
or on diving boards
with clay platforms
spongy stone floors
Blowing back and forth the reeds
to feel the river pour
as a wheat mill to turn in torque
to establish the width and paddled
chore to show off as a nimbly plotted
game of over lapping arrows and empty treasure troves;
of the destitute dialogue dominoes.
Don't be a fool, it's commercial not holy,
Thankful one night, the next in a hurry.
Camp outside don't miss your chance
to fight over that TV even though it's the last
Watch out! You don't want to be trampled in the hurry!
Rushing in at 4 am the scene is so blurry
But you stood in the cold just to find the gold
The treasure sure to bring on the "oooh's"
But there's so many who're jealous
They'll cuss and consume you
No fighting now, tis the season!
But you got to it first so who cares what they do
Even though the debt is rising
Even in your pockets
Can't hide the idea,
there's no safe place to lock it.
The tradition's been there for centuries
If you don't give you won't get
but who really cares who's
in the most debt
We'll pay it off in time to go under again
But each year it gets harder to top your friend
And there's no family member more satisfied with ends
The gift card full of cash now that's the best gift!
For perhaps they can pay off a little
of their overspending
while the stores roll around in their profits of billions
And the average home is filled with silent depression disappointment of expectation meets the realization
There's so many unwanted presents
Then comes the dreaded texting and ignorance
sitting in a room filled with a cold sting of silence
after spending every dime you had in thoughtfulness
All with the very best of intentions
In memory,the despised lepidoptera.
Wings ripped in three.
Shreds of vanished memory.
Flies on ripped silent wings no more.
Carried on a breeze of tears.
On wings so sore.
Only the breeze can fly.
Before the ripping of the wings.
Was once sweet symmetry.
A waste of years of plentiful wishes.
In expectation excited.
Fed fire with fire.
Long since smouldered.
Flaming desire tragic.
The sorcery dispersed.
The heart of broken magic.
Should the hate crack on.
Smash not the crystal casket.
In which the lady sleeps.
Eternally weeps in silence.
Cost of lost love.
Mourns the cost.
Of love forgot.
While sweet angel sleeps!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
wells continuously selling wishes
springs eternally offering hope
a toss of the penny
a cup of the hands
still waters of expectation
flowing solutions of promise
somber saturation of the atmosphere
coping with disappointment
a blessing or a curse
acceptance or complacency
peace or resignation
no sleepless nights of torment
lamenting the unintended and unfair
only melancholic contemplation
of dubious cause and wayward effect
the energy of discontent has dissipated
but it can only change form
perhaps the calm before the angry storm
a condensation into indignation
clear judgment further clouded
a tempest against the fates to be weathered
torrents of despair to rage
umbrellas of faith turned inside-out
but the sound won't be deafening
and the fury fleeting and insignificant
and as blue skies reflect in warm puddles
a fist will unclench to reveal...another coin