Oh how I miss the stars,
The ones in the sky that I would often gaze upon,
always thinking of you.
Those stars always made my heart feel heavy.
Made me feel like I was so large, and so small.
Eventually those stars in the sky were replaced by the stars of your eyes,
the little reflection of your glasses, the one's I picked for you.
I stopped going out and looking at stars once winter came.
But that was okay, because I had your stars.
Now it's heating up,
and we're cooling down.
I'll be reunited with my old stars soon,
Just after I've said goodbye to yours.
I read eulogies from time to time
to pass the time, I find in some rejected newspaper.
The language is foreign, for I am
alive and in two hundred or so words I am to know,
who this person was and that
they were loved or respected or validated in two
dimensions plus words and a
picture, when not so long ago they were three
dimensions that filled voids in
other peoples lives, striving to make the world
around them a better place,
battled hard in a war, and fell its only victim.
Swallow the bitter pill,
there ain't no better place,
than where you are right
now, with words written
as plain as the pain on
your face, so listen and
I will try to take you to
a better place maybe I
will transport you to
a ephoric utopia but
that will take opiates,
for my words will just
make you dizzy, Gillespie,
get off that computer and
go to bed, and then you
will dream dreams of us
meeting instead, where I
will be humble and you
will be dapper unless you
are a girl then you will
be "a beautiful rendition of the Mona Lisa"
pray what is behind that
smile and how do your
whites stay so pearly and
your hair, so light and curly,
like the clouds over head,
with a background of blue
sky that holds that daystar,
and reflects off the water in
the duck pond and blinds
my eyes and makes the tear
oft fall, salty on my sleeve,
as I hold one up to wipe
a tear, I feel your hanky
brush my eye lash and I blush with unabashed charm,
but if we were manly men
walking under the trees,
along a pathway of asphalt,
walking sticks pressed into palms
of hands, not those topical trees,
along side us grass, dotted with Canada geese,
oh do watch your step dear
boy, or you might grease your
soul, which would be a helluva
a way to let this perfect day
slip away and take us from
this better place.
It matters not who I am with, for when I am with you, whom ever you are,
I am away from here, therefore found in a better place.
Christmas was the one day when the guns died away...
There were soldiers from both sides,
But we all spoke the same language on Christmas.
December 24th, 11:50 pm
10 precious minutes until Christmas.
I can hear gunshots BOOMING and BANGING on all sides around me...
The sky, even though it is supposed to be dark, is red with bloody gunsmoke.
Men from both sides are on the ground,
Merely bleeding to death.
I have been instructed to not help them.
They're just gooks after all...
They don't live, breathe, and bleed just like you and me.
December 24th, 11:59 pm
The guns are more heated than ever.
My adrenaline is racing.
The crisp, frigid air is kicking my ass right now.
The tears that I have shed are now frozen to my face.
My legs are burning,
But I cannot stop running.
December 25th, 12:00 am
Guns cease to fire...?
"Why have they stopped firing?"
I shout to my neighbor.
He just grins, like the little boy he truly is, and simply responds,
I cannot contain my joy.
All over the battlefield,
Men hoot and holler with joy and glee.
The guns and insults stop.
In their place,
Men sing praise to the God they often curse,
And remember Rudolph, Frosty, and the other childish characters who used to make them innocently smile.
December 25th, 12:10 am
Every man who hasn't fallen yet has found a place to rest their head for the night.
We temporarily become friends with our enemies.
My buddy pulls out a flask from his sack,
And he spreads a little "Christmas Cheer" around the trench.
December 25th, 12:00 pm
We take the time to sleep...
We take the time to quietly talk about our girls back home...
About the families that we've left behind...
About the food, activities, and places we miss most...
We make the most of every small, yet precious, moment that goes without a shot or kill.
December 26th, 12:01 am
We remember that we're supposed to kill each other,
So that's exactly what we do.
Christmas is the only time to be friends...
Any other day is a day to kill.
Christmas is a universal language.
Evidently everyone can understand it...
I guess it's just mutual that we take the time to NOT kill each other.
Oh, why can't everyday be like Christmas?
I told him
I would love him forever
for by nature love is kind
the warmth of lips don't grow and lose easily
bodies die but the soul remains
I would love you as much as I can
Knowing that even thousand/s of years would past
our love for each other
will never fade
as we promise not to leave each other
and together we will smile on the things that
will try to bring us down
And one day our souls will meet
and have their own language to speak
and who knows
in that light
holding each other hands
In unquietness and stillness
In darkness or in lightness
I would love you forever
For I can only live and die once
my heart feels comfortable
that once in my life you touched the place
and show to me
that love never dies
We know we will die in the end
Forget everything happened in physical
but the emotions and love that we give to each other
will remain in this world
And in our new life
up in the sky
we shall find our souls
and continue the love and life we
will be leaving in the earth.
Smooth on the outside,
Rough on the inside,
Your wiseass facade disguises your inner turmoil.
Behind a smirk and a laugh you hide the pain,
And I watch as your emotions boil,
Your demons begging to be slain.
It's difficult to watch and be helpless,
And for only watching, I ask your forgiveness.
You've struggled long and hard,
Playing the hand with whatever card
Would keep you alive longest.
You though, you never quit playing,
Though the game has changed for the best.
I'm proud of you for looking past the bars
Towards the sky and seeing the stars.
You're all of which I
All in which I seek to
The sky above my subdued brow
the Sunbeams in the nape of your neck
fingers tracing lines
on the inside of my thighs
up towards my stomach.
the curvature of my naked breast
my ear succumbing to your hot breath
My heart rate fastens
"Look into my eyes".
Hand on my jaw, he purrs
There are moments in life.
Then there are moments, in life.
It's a gift to know exactly when
you discovered what love really is.
It was laying ear to ear with you,
So quiet I can almost hear your thoughts.
Cheeks pressed together,
yours so much softer than mine.
Laying, our backs on the cooled pavement
watching the sky spread out,
and the world roll over.
It's knowing I see you in a way few if any will.
A beauty that stretches past words.
Unfindable in any magazine or movie.
A living breathing diamond.
Intangible and unequaled.
It was the late night rides with the windows down.
The heat of the day dying on the breath of the wind.
The entire air charged with nostalgia.
Full of thoughts of friends and memories and feelings.
Watching the headlights cut the darkest parts of the night.
Thinking I'd die before I could find a way
to explain exactly what you mean to me,
but knowing I'd never be so happy to try for the rest of life itself.
i don't know where i'm going
or where i want to go
outside there's white tears falling
my mother calls it snow
the darkness seems to hum my name,
the moon, it seems to glow
and with each beam of light it shines
the less i want to know
what good am i to you? i ask
the empty sky above,
from which no god has landed yet,
and shown me any love,
and there's no use denying that i am lost
for the stars are lost as well
and though we wish upon those flecks of light,
they could be wishing upon us from hell
colorful blanket of autumn leaves
covered the clearings between the trees
the sound of crackling under my steps
broke the silence in my mind
cold air and a puddle along the road
reminded me of a last night's storm
I walked towards the shallow lake
whose calm surface reflected azure sky
embellished with few translucent clouds
I was amazed by its surreal beauty;
so persistent in its existence
and yet, so deceptively comprehensible,
a thought about the transience of all
suddenly overcame me;
a thought, so profoundly insightful
and sublimely unclear, at the same time
awoke dormant memories
of what has passed and is forever gone...
I threw pebbles in the lake, defiantly,
and watched the ripples distort
almost perfect reflection of reality,
to diminish the overwhelming feeling
Stood way out there,
And ran all his fingers
Through his hair.
He took a deep breath
As the morning arose,
Smiling so wide
That it wrinkled his nose.
He saw on the horizon
A crackle of rain -
And touches of dew
Resting on his new cane.
But when Thurgood paused
And peered over his lawn,
And studied his yard
In the new light of dawn,
He kicked at his heel
Like an old Mother Hen.
And he grumbled aloud,
"Oh no, not again!"
He followed the Quiltwork
Patch Grass to the side,
Where the Fennilen Fern
And the Trugg usually hide,
Through the green, where
The collups and roses were set,
All needing a pruning he
Hadn't faced yet.
And there it was,
Still tugging the string,
That wicked and
Pimply pompous old thing.
Standing there near the hill,
Right beside an old post,
Where it could drink in the morning,
And gaze down the coast.
"Five times you've been planted,"
Said good Fenwick that day.
He was well wearied and worn.
His head almost gray.
"You did not like the corner,
Where the daffodils grow.
You did not care for the tulips,
Row upon row."
"You turned away from the Ivy
That climbs to the sea.
You are a most contentious,
And troublesome tree."
"Was the fence near the gate
Not a worthy estate?
That you had to pull free,
And run toward the sea?"
"The poplars were kind,
But you turned clear away.
I wonder just what
You are thinking today."
But the tree did not nod,
As far as Thurgood could tell.
For it could taste the sweet ocean,
And feel her waves swell.
It watched the soft moon
Drifting low in the sky,
And stretched out its branches
Ever so high.
And Thurgood shook his head,
And with an inkling of pride
Said, "Does this make you happy?"
And he smiled wide.
He turned on his heels,
And watched the soft sea.
Today there was quiet
Along this emerald key.
Her waves gently licking
The shoreline hello,
And morningtime greeting
Her usual glow.
"It is a nice view,"
He heard himself say.
As dawn gently tap-tapped
To nature's soiree.
And he grinned, "You old codger.
Have it your way.
And a good mornin' to you.
I believe this is your day."
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"Even if I knew that tomorrow
the world would go to pieces,
I would still plant my apple tree."