Every time you hear
A baby laugh -
Every time you see
A firefly -
When new spring
Or you hear the
And Momma's perfume
Fills the room,
When the first flakes
From winter fall -
And when you hear
The robin's call -
When you see
A bright-eyed child
On Christmas morn,
Or a brand-new baby born,
Just like the soft silk
From the corn -
I'm in the teardrops Grandma cries
When praying every night.
And when the eve is over,
You'll feel me in the morning light.
And every ray of sunshine
That warms your Saturday,
I'm there. I'm in their laughter
When I see my sisters play.
When you hear
The thunders roll -
Or hear the sharp song
Of the Oriole,
When April blossoms fill the trees,
Or you hear the song of honey bees,
Just like the gentle
In the cool of the morning dew,
And in the little songs that you
Hum when you're not aware,
Or when new snow falls,
And Grandpa calls
To ask you how you are.
When the rain beats low
And the soft moon glow
Wakes up another star.
I'm in the lazy
The dancing trees -
When the first spring rain
Greets the day,
Or you hear my sisters pray,
And a secret blessing
Falls your way,
When the first leaves
Of Autumn turn,
And Winter nips
Against your door,
And starlight dances
Through the sky,
And bare feet tap
Across the floor,
Or that final breath
Of Autumn sings
A song from oh, so
And Winter sets her
Eyes upon the morning
With a dust of snow,
I'll be watching over you,
As quiet as can be,
With a gentle warmth
Within my heart-
Because you mean
So much to me.
Copyright © 2011 Richard D. Remler
"Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather
openings in Heaven where the love of our lost
ones pours through and shines down
upon us to let us know they are happy."
This poem is not meant to
Offend anyone's faith or
This Is In Memory of Gage King,
My young cousin, who, on Tuesday,
September 2, 2003, at the age of 5,
Was struck and killed while riding
His bicycle by someone speeding
Through a residential section of
Manning, Iowa, USA . .
Clumsy as words, I dared approach,
And over the edge I bent.
A sight unexpected appeared to me
And reeling back with a gasp I was sent.
I gathered my senses, gazed brave as I might,
And the water within shone a shimmering light,
And reflected the white of a man's final night,
Penetrating the darkness of his final fight.
Weary from a sorrowful walk in the woods on a whim,
And the madness and heartbreaking sadness within,
I had long kept a silence, and my heart was burdened,
And so I greeted thought foe as a friend:
Exclaiming, I realized that no hunt, but a chase had taken place,
That instead I had followed dear death, and I wept.
'Twas then that I opened my mouth in prayer
And then I closed my eyes and I leapt.
You step forwards—
within my reach
but with every passing day
the dream I've chased
gets farther away once again.
Not you, not you!
But I and my
Can we make this last more than just
i walked into the night,
and felt the cool air's breeze.
stepping away every once in awhile
usually gives me enough to release.
in an attempt to sober up from binge thinking,
i noticed i was alone, moreso than usual.
not a single car on the street,
no single individual.
this is common after midnight
but i thought there had to be someone who is also deprived of sunlight.
it was then that i was blinded by unusual headlights
on a vehicle known as hindsight.
abandoned the instincts of fight or flight,
because i was curious.
it turned into my driveway.
it felt as though there were some undiscovered forces at play,
as i lay in wait.
the door opened up, and a man with a bright white aura stepped into view.
i gazed upon his face and then was at a complete loss as to what to do..
he looked at me, smiled, and said, " yes, that particular thought is correct,
i am you.
you needed someone, and so here we are.
see this distance between you and your true self aren't so far apart.
it gets hard, when dealing with passions of the heart,
but every day, every minute...moment, can be a new start."
Everything happens as it's meant to, though, right?
" destinies are in the hands of everyone who believes it,
but most don't see to seize it."
are you, God? an Angel? a jester in disguise?
"you naturally won't want to accept this statement initially,
but i will tell you no lies. i am from a faction of lightbearers,
to help illuminate the path. the variables you add and subtract though, changes the outcome like math, heh heh."
where am i to go?
" you are not to know, yet, what's the fun in that?"
true, but then what about this,' shedding light on the path'?
"all that is within you, is everything. unlimited potential and power to benefit the universe.
before i disperse back into the cosmos, i am here to ensure that your own light grows. the love you emit causes radiated blooming within the chakras of others, but your aura has diminished, do you know why this is?"
" embrace all that you are, Ryan. i needed to remind you that you are loved deeply. take care of yourself, so to not be the cause of your own reaping. your efforts are never exhausted, i see and appreciate all you do, with a smile. now go the extra mile, cross the line and let your divine shine through. you are never alone, remember things from the past you wrote. every word still holds true.
i must be leaving, but listen to what's inside when you're unsure of what to do. Namaste, Ryan."
but wait! who really are you??
as I stood in bewilderment, he ascended into the sky with a smile, and his vehicle disappeared.
would this interaction have happened had i displayed my primal urges of fear?
when he was no more than a sparkle in the eye that is the ever-expanding sky
i didn't feel so dry and lifeless, but rather moist with creative juices from all that sunk in.
and the warmth, it was a love you could touch without touching.
this is what i was missing.
and so when reminiscing, i show gratitude and blissful appreciation,
because too much can be lost in the translation of contemplation.
I wish that something great would come my way.
I wish that I could find someone to care for me differently than anyone else.
I wish that everyone in the world could just get along.
I wish that people would not be afraid to take risks.
I wish that the morning and night would switch spots, just for the hell of it.
I wish that people had the ability to always trust one another.
I wish that I always had a camera to capture every beautiful moment I came across.
And I wish that this poem weren't so redundant...
The night has fallen, yet the sky is a light shade of gray
The morning sky is pink like a dainty rose
The snow sparkles in the evening when the street lights shine upon it
My eyes crinkle in laughter, and tears drip down my cheeks
City lights bounce and reflect off of the lake
Friends are there to back me up
The biggest, ugliest birds look majestic in the sky when migrating South
Something looks so perfect, and I wish I had a camera to capture the splendor
A book intrigues me so much that I zip through it and don’t remember a word
I can share all of my secrets with a person I just met
My hands graze the water that rushes past the boat I am in
Something so terrible turns out to be something wonderful
I experience a literal OMG, ROFL, LOL, or LMAO
The wet sand oozes through my toes
I get a perfect score on a test that I studied hard for
I feel the cool, frigid water slap my red hot face
A song fills me with extreme adrenaline
The wind hollers, whines, and moans outside of my window
A tree starts one inch tall, and grows to be one mile tall
Someone tells me that I have inspired them
People compliment me on my work
I am able to get in front of people and be honest with them
My body feels rejuvenated and young
The veins on the back of my hands pop out and pulse rapidly
I can feel the hot air blowing on my face when I roll down the car windows
My legs are smooth because I have just shaved them
A poem seems perfect to me…
No, I was torn naked and bleeding from the mouth of a death star
and woke to find mountains laid bare by the sea.
In the shallows of blood baths and craters, where the crushers of garlic and the harlots all meet
and the stiflers of dreams, dream on (right up my street)
that's where you'll find me.
In the 'Benbow' with pirates and pieces of eight and with cords tied to timepieces
(don't want to be late)
and the show starts at nine
when after drinking two bottles of cheap German wine
Salome appears with a head in her lap
because that's what we do.
(Lost innocents are few and we ain't none of all that)
But the ship sailed at four carrying whalebones to Spain
to tighten the corsets
for those Senoritas
who put me to such shame.
What's in a name that it's spat on the floor
by crimson clad virgins
who won't leave the doorways of bodegas
and Degas paints on.
a song and the night carries me along on a wave of cheap scent
where oft' I have spent a weeks earnings on unsatisfied
In the end someone will send me a typewritten note or a telegram
to let me know just who and what I am
in the 'Benbow' 'til ten and the crows crow at midnight when the lights all go out.
On a dead dull night
When the moon goes hiding
And the barn owl hoots for its love
The fireflies romance the darkness.
The glowing beads dance to celebrate
The nights of long past buried for good
With the treasures of lost happiness,
Wind sings a dirge for transience.
I lost cuntrol when I was nine years old.
Mother took my hand off my crotch yet left my brother to the confinement of his cock;
Girls good, boys bad, and oh no sweetheart your beauty is your only power.
And I’d blush; not in the way she’d hoped through the sweep of a brush but rather when my teacher left her hand lingering on my back as she bent over to tick the formula of the female form and cross out what the chimes of the church commanded.
I looked at the curve of the x she used to mark the spot and sighed.
Teach me. Teach me your ways so I can breathe in the sweet blossom of your hair as I rest in the bossom of your heart, its smells like lavender. Lavender.
Lavender sweet dreams honey and I will see you there tonight.
It was then I began my perpetual low earth orbit from dream to dream and departed from what mother said that day when I asked the question that makes mothers quake as they smooth out the creases in their dresses and tuck their unravelled hair behind bitten ears.
Making love. We made love only to make you, darling.
Mother smiled sweetly and turned her back on me as her mind traced back to that morning when she made mad passionate love with the milkman when daddy wasn’t looking. I am still waiting for my little sister.
If practice makes me perfect then meet man, mother.
I used his rocket to launch myself into space where I spelt her name out in the stars and jumped over the moon to Venus. I felt the warmth from her skin like the sun that keeps me alive. Alive. Alive.
Warm me, darling, just with the nestle in my vessel in my veins in my sugar coated spaceship.
We found sticks and made smores and we floated together, with my hand tracing your V in that three-dimensional galaxy between your legs we fell in love. No void existed between our celestial bodies as gravity pulled me into your arms.
He came as I came back from space thinking of nothing but the soft shape of her hips and the trail of her spine that led me back to earth.
There’s man with his grey socks still on his feet, dark matter on the sheets and a wrapper on the floor.
Rubbish I thought, but in the sky…
That night my mother asked me why I am smiling.
I said I have become an astronaut in orbit with a woman who I love in space.
She cried shes lost it.
I smiled, nodded yes, I've lost it to her.
I lost cuntrol when the earth, heavens and waters fell in love and sailed and soured as we danced on the tree tops of your garden, with waves crashing beneath us leaving salt shimmering particles like diamonds on your feet.
You were my alphabet soup that filled me with too many words, the thrill of the prize at the bottom of the cereal packet and the noble intentions of stopping the Titanic from sinking with the touch of button.
We had love at first sight like David and Jonathen, Ruth and Naomi who boarded the ark as my back arched in passionate throws below deck, as Noa held Emzaras hand smiling.
Adding a letter to her name on Transgender Tuesdays was just an afterthought.
Opening her drawers to pack up her boxers and bind her breasts Noa smiled as the clock cocked Tuesday.
She entered her escapism; what the Bible calls a natural disaster, I just call natural.
I lost cuntrol when I re-arranged the stars like pick and mix, so I could always find my way back to you. When you said I love you I wondered whether I’d had too many dolly mixtures and where jelly babies came from.
Sugar rimmed your lips like salt on a martini and left me drunk with desire as I licked around your edges. You slipped a haribo ring on my finger and I gave you my loveheart.
I lost cuntrol one day when my lover Alice said eat me. She showed me Dinah who hide beneath her skirt and I followed curiously.
I didn’t ask her to say please but that’s another story.
After her lesson I was told the Sputnik satellite was man-made and I laughed.
Oh no, women have been launching rockets with complete cuntrol between their legs for years, leaving the earths atmosphere and dreaming of everything else but dirty Dick’s dick.
During countdown they think of shopping lists, whether they’ve burnt off enough calories for wine with their girlfriends, and sometimes, sometimes, of her.
Do good girls go gay?
In space, my mother said, in space.
Her breast of broaden chest
by a sheet pulled across in the night
tangled by twitching feet
a mixture of movements
unsure toes singing
songs of unsettlement.
And her brow
furrowed as her teeth set
What does her throat yearn to garble?
instead of yarble
as her wrists slither along
like Cleopatra's snakes
that whisper trails of burnt red
and blotched white.
Bedded portrayals of lovely betrayals.
Because the guilt is clawing up
transpiring from the floor
like a mutant through a wall
weaving through taught bed springs
as a mouse after cheese
bursting from the indented mattress
like a monster in a horror movie
to grasp her
and pull her
until her screams ring out sharp
and scissor through paper dreams
before the weight crushes her.
as the Red Queen did to cards,
It was only a game
as silly games do,
someone had to lose.