We were lovers,
that share an awkward glance
You know my body
at the touch of your hand
And it's been
over a year
since we've been more than friends
But I would love
to love you
The arc of Hyperion's bedazzled sceptre
Issues forth a cascade of petals Rose deep
Laying the path for sweet heavenly Aurora
Chary± Divinity moving in a soft tip & creep ...
Until at last Her eye peers out o'er Terra
A shied face hidden 'hind the crest no longer.
For in her glance abides a treasure
No hallowed hall may contain:
Upon the Mount, within the Spring, Roots of the Tree doth regain!
Fruits resurf, o' Golden Bough undulating
Seeped in kin vital, up the amber vein: 'Ere burgeoned wings do stretch & sing
Rising into Joy's boundless domain!
E'er again, again after!
Yea, be heedless to all fright
Nay, but to a solitary care:
Gallope free, alight
& kiss the silvery aer
Yet if ye be trapp'd in night,
& gaze morose in despair: Thine pleasen only might; --
Pray, cease thine irradiant stare!
± Chary: careful about what is revealed; circumspect.
He came to her in the night,
Whispering promises in her ear.
She shrunk back, frightened
By the choice she would have to make.
But something about the words
And the sweet sounds
Made her heart pound and her mind race
With idealized visions.
She was not one to make mistakes
Or believe is what has no proof.
Except for that night.
Her body quaked as she took
His rough hand in hers.
If she were the drop of rain,
Pattering against the window,
He would be the hurricane
That blew the frame away.
He was a color, bright and loud
Against the soft hue of her pastel.
And if she were a flicker of candlelight,
He would be an inferno.
The flicker and the inferno escaped into the dark.
The former was stabbed with uneasiness,
Only thriving on a spark that warmed her inside.
She knew what she was leaving behind
And that it was the wrong choice to make.
Except something about it felt so right.
Each brush of their skin
And glance at his face
Threatened to take the regret away.
Through the hours of steady paced walking,
Her home became more distant
And she felt the guilt shrinking,
She had always been a flicker,
If the inferno shared his fire,
She could become a flame.
Snow dont fall
On summers time
Wind dont blow
Below the sea
My loves lies
neath frozen skies
And waits in sweet
Repose for me
Her eyes did laugh
Her lips did sing
Her legs did roll
My soul to bring
Her hair did curl
And her thoughts unfurled
Like birds upon
The wings of spring
My love I need not see
To know she cast
her glance at me
Snow dont fall
On summers time
Wind dont blow
Below the sea
My loves lies
neath frozen skies
And waits in sweet
Repose for me
The first time I saw
Betty Grater swoon
and heard Ms Arnault sigh
I knew I had found the answer
that all young men seek
Instead of good looks
and the scent of money
I realized that the tippled sound of Thomas,
the piston drive of Cummings,
or shroud and mystery of Rimbaud
could accomplish what fumbling
postures never could
They could make a button come
undone and stay that way
part a leg and have it
see an arm brushed
and not pulled back
Ah, but women are not
so easily wooed
You see, poetry is but a beginning
once is never sufficient
and Cyrano found
he was forced to return
to keep those fires burning
Soon you discover it is not enough
to merely sing another’s tune
and you must learn the art
whose muse is not so
So the new poems to Emily or Mary Lou
are steeped in ignorance, stumbling tongue
and emotion that knows only extreme
a Dickinson hodgepodge of flowers,
spring-rain and metaphor trampled
by testosterone expectation
And as these women grow
you discover the magic is fading
that they have learned these lures
and their virtue will not part quite so easy
Ah, but art is ever inventive
and for those hard to dissemble
there are the more obscure songs
of Baudelaire, Jefferson and Yeats
these will free even the firmest
of corset-strung objections
But to truly reach the promised land
there is need to create one’s own
to wrestle the evening with nature’s muse
and tease a line between the sheets
Then, if you've still a mind
you can glance to see
if her clothes have been shed
But the sad and beautiful truth
is that poetry’s muse will suffer no others
rarely will that graceful form stay the course
she will leave to find yet another
that can keep them
It's not fair, it isn't fair
But with such a heavy glance of despair
You break me you mold me
I can't help but hold an overwhelming love for thee.
My poetry isn't bland, simple, or plain.
It's beautiful, a mess, and all sounds the same.
I use the same pattern, beat, and rhymes,
Eventually it will be used one too many times.
I am fighting the urge to love you so pure
God help me I have a poison and you are the cure.
Ignore me, push away, leave me to a thought.
It makes me miss you so much that I rot.
I'm a tree in the wind, I push but do not break
Will loving you turn out to just be a mistake?
Sometimes it's perfect and you're my closest best friend,
Other times it's like it was all just pretend.
It's not fair for me to desire your full attention,
And the sorrow in my soul is beyond comprehension.
I will never forgive myself, and you shouldn't either
I understand you need a break, your heart needs a breather.
I feel so worn thin, so little butter over too much bread
These thoughts and emotions must get out of my head.
What do you want can't you make yourself clear
But please don't tell me it's what I fear.
It's a sick sort of enjoyment, I get from this life,
It's hard to accept you seeing anyone else as a wife.
But that's what it's come to and that's my fault too
I just hope she makes you happy and her love is true.
You told me have patience to see if it's in my favor
I know I've had inexcusable behavior.
You probably didn't see that it was about you and I,
Waiting to see what you choose makes me want to die.
The heaviest burden I ever have bore,
I'm so sorry for that time, your heart, I tore.
It makes me feel ill to think about my choice,
But you don't understand, he stole my voice.
I won't talk about him because he isn't what I want,
Will my choice forever be over me, a ghost that will haunt?
I'm so sorry my dear, I'm so sorry my precious love,
You always treated me like a gift from above.
And sometimes I think about how bad is the pain,
When the person you love does not love the same.
Then I recall yet again what I did to your heart,
I wonder if it would be best, if I just chose to depart.
I get so beyond torn when I try to decide
Because no matter what, I won't leave your side.
Sometimes it just hurts too much, I have to write it out,
It comes it waves and I'm sorry for my doubt.
I'm sorry for the way my emotions turn and twist,
I never want you to have to deal with this.
I'm such a mess and I want to tell you all that I feel,
But I fear if I do, you will leave, and my nightmare will be real.
Oh my oh goodness me this has turned into a mess,
I can't form my words even when I try my best.
I'm sorry if this isn't clear, doesn't help, or bring peace,
I have no one to talk to, it just sits and festers, this is my release.
Mr. Coffee, who just today
Sent Margaret Thompson a bouquet
Of Birthday Lilies, green as tea,
Just shared a bit of news with me.
How odd he seems when he is near.
So daft at times, and very queer.
He told me just today a grim
And spectral spirit is haunting him.
He told me how it steals the light,
And how it keeps him up at night.
And then he said, "But I don't know
If it is friend, or it is foe."
Mr. Coffee's Ghost, says he,
Fancies his Cranberry Tea.
For he's spied it, quiet as can be,
Pour itself a cup, or three.
He suspects it fiddles with the Loo.
He's heard it flush a time, or two.
Though he figures it just wants to play
In its ectoplasmic way.
I fear, I do, our gentle friend,
May have finally met his bitter end.
That he may not see the here and now.
That he's lost touch with us somehow.
I fear his mind perhaps is spent.
And no one knows just where it went.
As though it packed its bags one shifty day
And lumbered off to Paraguay.
I fear our dear and troubled friend,
Has slipped right off the deepest end.
As though he's lost his crackers and his cheese
In tons and tons of black-eyed peas.
Or, perhaps it's but a jest? A way
To put us to the test today?
To find if we can fairly see
His little play at comedy?
He said he asked his Ghost one day
If it would kindly move away.
And it spluttered out, quite unrehearsed,
"But, truth be told, I was here first!"
Mr. Coffee says he has a Ghost
That likes to steal his raisin toast.
And when he leaves the living room,
He hears it toying with the broom,
Shaking corner cobwebs fair,
Dusting things from here to there,
And sweeping clean the Parlor screen.
Aye, it's heard, it's just not seen!
The oddish way he looked today,
He seemed just a wee bit gray .
Asking if he'll ever comprehend
If his Ghost be foe, or it be friend.
He says, "Of course the floorboards creek."
He hears the murky darkness speak.
He feels the curtains move and sigh,
As evening slowly tip-toes by.
He says, "The place is rather drafty, yes.
And it's a madhouse, I confess.
The sounds this house makes in the rain
Is never easy to explain"
This Ghost will turn the heater so far down
All it gets is cold.
And then tap tap tap the attic wall
Whenever it feels extra bold.
It will shadow every little room
With a phantasmic potpourri
This spooky little specter
Mr. Coffee cannot see.
This spiteful spook, it flickers lights,
To express it's ectoplasmic rights!
It rings the doorbell in a way each day
That scares the neighbor kids away
He'll spot a restless shadow dance,
Whenever he nods half a glance.
And Mr. Coffee feels he's in the right to stay,
And does not want to move away.
So, Mr. Coffee has a Ghost
A fair bit ghoulish of a Host,
Who thinks itself a China Rose,
And keeps poor Coffee on his toes.
Reminding him most every day,
His Ghost will never move away.
And in this Peculiar Poltergeist's parlay,
His Spectral Specter's here to say.
Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Remler
"The Helicon of too many poets is not a hill
crowned with sunshine and visited by the Muses
and the Graces, but an old, mouldering house,
full of gloom and haunted by ghosts."
-Henry Wadsworth Longfello
Escaping this world with you
I don’t want to feel this anymore
I can’t go on anymore
I want to breathe!
I want to breathe,
The fresh whispers of freedom,
that want to get out,
and they turn into a SHOUT!
I Want To Breathe Freely
To be me
To Dance and Sing and Hug your very Being
I want to breath
Inhale your essence
In one look capture your essence
I glance across the room
I see you.....seeing me
But you can’t see
That I can’t breathe
Suffocated by Society
Need to be free
So many things that they want of me
But I just want to be free
Free to touch you
Free to feel you
Free to breathe fresh whispers in your ear
Free to shout "I Love You!" without fear
By Kevin Michael @April 4th 2013
i wasn't searching for you the first time i spoke with you
in the hushed library
i am unfathomably lucky
i feel what you feel even though you have no idea
and when you glance down at your hands
i understand the loneliness
when you lay your head down
i drown in disappointment
at the moment
i'm praying that somehow i have to move with you
that way i can keep you safe from
the dreadful voices in your head as you feebly attempt
to adjust to yet another school
i know you have trouble with this
and how difficult you find it
i carry you in my heart
you are the perfect baggage
i think about you
when i go to fall asleep
you run circles in my mind
make me dizzy with giddy feelings of love and happiness
i imagine that you're laying beside me
close enough for me to hear your heartbeat
you're always smiling in these daydreams
the love you hold for me apparent in your eyes
but those are in my childish fantasies
you are the opposite
you stay stationary under my glance or gaze
and make me sick with horrible feelings of worry and dread
i see that you're walking far away from me
far enough for me to be unable to make out your shape
you're always frowning in the real world
the love you once held for me extinguished in your eyes
i yearn to see the you from my daydreams become true
i yearn to see the you from the real world become false
i dream of the day the you i fell in love with becomes real again