I wish you were mine
Captured in time
Fast asleep for evermore
Gathering stars
From worlds afar
Teaching us well
What love is for...
Two dreamers dreaming
when worlds collides
Yet which one will stray
To the otherside...
Where sunlight
Shines strange
Famialarties change
Turning to dust
Before our very eyes...
The are forever frozen,
reaching, stretching
towards the skies above.
They are told they
can touch the stars,
just out of reach.
Armies of them are placed
together -- frozen in the battle
to achieve their goal.
Wars are fought, lives lost
seasons past, years fly
they stand there - forever frozen.
Some are as ancient as the
stars themselves,
others are born into the world
with this impossible task.
They are imprisoned
by the earth
but still reach for the stars:
Soldiers
Prisoners
Trees.
I drink till the moonlight sinks deeply into my covers,
Where time has no mind, and no side-effects to gather.
May I sleep better than the days before,
Never to watch my ghost drift away towards the door.
Some raise their glass to the sky,
Some to the clink of another,
But I and I, bare and dry,
Give pity to my nerves without a bother.
As I turn the pages of a new novel,
Where the moon swings with the stars,
Soft and jovial,
Like towards an infinite inclinations of a son and mother.
Friends holding the cracks within my hand,
Sucking the toxic liquid from my skin.
We walk together among the wallflowers covering the land,
As a single, sole thought of entangled vines that we suspend.
Stars are angel’s eyes
past loved one’s smiles
gazing at us lovingly
shining bright so we can see
the sun protects them in the day
radiating light so they can lay
next time you see a full moon
he’s filling in, new stars coming soon
Pleasant it was the bright night sky,
Destined it was the stars all here.
Fearful he was the moon flew by
And as we turned, oh me oh my,
It turned with us with face of fear.
Nothing it was could ever die
Beneath the stars for we could fly
Farther than one could want to hear.
Fearful he was the moon flew by
With us, so strange, we saw him cry
We went to him and hushed his tear,
Nothing it was could ever die.
Returned home, my boy slept so shy,
Watching we sang soft for his ear,
"Fearful He Was The Moon Flew By"
Pleasant it was the bright night sky
Destined it was the stars all here
Fearful he was the moon flew by
Nothing it was could ever die
4 AM and here I am
Still awake
Looking for nowhere
My walls are empty
But my mind are fully
Thinkin in what
I don't give a damn.
They are thoughts
And they are enough.
Tonight is cold
And the stars are gold
It makes no sense
What is in my conscience
Body is warm
The clock tic tac
Now it's four and thirty
And I'm thirsty
Not for a drink
But for a dream.
And it still make no sense
What is in my conscience
Or wait,
Maybe I'm not awake.
Now make any sense
This talk with my inconscience.
by Liliana Farinha
Early mornin dream of a prayer
..
SHE
------
I seek the blind man from the long ago street
Who held my hand
-----
I remember the billy club policeman's face
And you too were there
---
DESPAIR!
An invented emotion that does not contain
Even one ounce of real emotion
-
We the lovers prowl the night
By the millions and billions below the stars
But we never see eachother there!
How is THIS even possible?
-----
The prayer gets twisted into a SCREAM
----
SHE
------
Yes I LOVE you
As you know
.
We'll meet for certain if you want
We'll make the impossible a reality
We'll make eachother ---REAL PEOPLE
REAL PEOPLE REAL PEOPLE
not just puppet-like Pinocchios!
..........................................................
Every time you hear
A baby laugh -
I'm there...
Every time you see
A firefly -
I'm there...
When new spring
Wildflowers bloom,
Or you hear the
Thunder boom,
And Momma's perfume
Fills the room,
I'm there...
When the first flakes
From winter fall -
And when you hear
The robin's call -
I'm there...
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 there...
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 -
I'm there...
Or hear the sharp song
Of the Oriole,
I'm there...
When April blossoms fill the trees,
Or you hear the song of honey bees,
Just like the gentle
Morning breeze,
I'm there...
In the cool of the morning dew,
And in the little songs that you
Hum when you're not aware,
I'm there...
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 there...
I'm in the lazy
Summer breeze
Winding through
The dancing trees -
When the first spring rain
Greets the day,
Or you hear my sisters pray,
And a secret blessing
Falls your way,
I'm there...
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
Long ago,
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."
~Author Unknown
...........................................................
This poem is not meant to
Offend anyone's faith or
Religious beliefs.
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 . .
http://www.davidkusel.com/alumni/memorial/gage-king.htm
The sun set sadly on the settled window frame
speaking with dew soon to form.
the sweet singing voices rose from the garden
where you bathed with your sister
while your mother and father drank cherry flavored wine
on the porch in the melting sun.
when the stars began to rain you felt something new
staring up where the sun is commonplace
you felt little better than you did moments ago.
but when your sister,
hand on your spine,
whispered in your ear,
your hair stood up,
and your mother,
and your father,
waved goodbye to the Hendersons going to Florida for the weekend.
Everything is all the same.
In a crowd of red spots, there are no blue squares.
The same Sun rises in the East every damn morning,
And the same Moon sits in the same damn sky among billions of stars.
One man looks and acts the same as the next,
Just as one woman looks and acts the same as the next...
There is nothing special that happens in society.
The same stories haunt the media.
A man rapes a woman.
A woman abuses her children.
Someone tries to smuggle an alligator out of Florida,
And a moose crosses a Minnesota highway...
I myself walk the same streets
Over and over and over again...
Go to work,
Work,
Go home,
Sleep,
And repeat...
WHY are the creative juices in my brain no longer flowing?
WHEN did my river run dry?
HOW can I get the juices to race and course through my veins once more?
Dry,
Dry,
River...
No Inspiration at all...
I
Need
Change
