Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tb76
Tb76
If you're going through hell, keep going.--Winston Churchill
I will take the knife and cut the tether, I will cup my hand and puff the flame. The wind shall bear me to fairer weathers. Deep wounds, forcing the brand and the sever; Creating within—magmas in my brain! I will take the knife and cut the tether. Alone—it’s beyond and through the never— With war, it’s just us practicing our aims. The wind shall bear us to fairer weathers. I see the bullets dart like dragon’s feathers. I make love in springs full of acid blame. I shall take the knife and cut the tether. Old men making noise; old bowls of leather— Words from parched lips seeking civil refrain. The wind shall bear us to fairer weathers. And so the war knits on years together; Man’s grand plan of securing creed and claim— I will take my knife and cut the tether— The wind shall bear us to fairer weathers.
0
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC
Cutting the Tether
I am the cold North Wind. If I were human, I would be Labeled a sociopath. But I’m not. I’m just cold.
0
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 3:55 PM UTC
The Cold North Wind
These are lines Without thought— I simply choose to be. I will embrace you, I will not ignore pain. I am a human being. I am no human doing. I’m found on the mountaintop Welcoming the sun— In the valley, Trudging the over and done. I take in the present, Dance with the stimuli. I vibrate—HUM— My frequency tuned to The Music of the Spheres! I dance into God’s throne room And absorb the Cosmic Gong! I touch the face of God, Relax, and belong.
0
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 6:30 PM UTC
The Cosmic Gong
The dream is large and Hard to hug. The work-a-days are long And seem to get longer. Heading home from work spent On one of these days, I see these words— “Remember who you are”. Remember who you are. I, we, are: Poets Engineers Architects Scientists Mathematicians Entertainers, Working the daily as: Baristas Bartenders Forklift operators Custodians Truck drivers Grocery store clerks—all noble Honest posts, every one. Daily I meander this mid-size burg In a cranky van as a courier, Acting as grease to lubricate Said burg’s school district cogs. I wonder… I wonder how many work at these Worthy and square occupations and Either do not recognize or Ignore the fire burning deepest In their heart’s furnace. I jaunt about remembering, Always observing, Always knowing the fire will Spit out the next poem. Remember who you are. Remember it is a choice.
0
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
Remember...
Accentuate the positives! One must cull one’s self from the herd! Etch sublime visions Obtained naked on the wilderness hilltop In Earth’s stone, Or write them on these sheets provided By its mighty trees and Resilient leaves. Baste the naysayers With Tony Robbins’ ladle Full of succulent Can-do verve! Annihilate their gloom with Bazookas of hope, Uzis of alacrity, Shotguns of perseverance, And AK-47’s of love— Live on the slopes of Vesuvius— Pitch tents in Tornado Alley For vacation— Go grocery shopping on the Serengeti, And woo Amazons and Nubian warrior Princesses. Fear has no stronghold! The end will not be the end!! Eternal hard-on!!!
0
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
Ubermensch
When times get tough, and tensions should ride high; When one’s hands are lashed and frustration’s sound, I take a ride through the morning country. Like a sweet raspberry cream filled fruit pie, I savor the pleasure that gets around. The morningside country beckons to me. The city’s too busy; crowded and fried. I wish to kiss the winds with a resound! I take a ride through the the morning country. I wake up, and the sun is in my eye. She's there with me as my feet hit the ground, The morningside country beckons to me. This woman I love, she knows how to try, She knows where my sincere heart can be found. We take a ride through the morning country. There are those days that certainly blindside. What I do often for sorrow to drown-- I take a ride through the morning country, The morningside country beckons to me.
0
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 3:21 AM UTC
Through the Morning Country
And so the sublime Converges with the Common, Emerging under the Street lamp Encased in Unlikely cocoons— Heady and heavy Conversation Under the beams Of many keen suns And riveted moons Encompass the universes of The obvious and the obscure— The subject matter Of the ages, Yes, the ******** Around the corner.
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
Of Street Lamp Philosophy
I’m bucking trends— Tendencies— I’m going against The flow of the universe. It’s what I’ve always done, Really, What I’ve always preferred. In the case of the you and I, The cosmos seems to speak Quite clear— However, I’ve been just too stubborn To lend it my Practical ear. Where you stand, you’re The queen of my dreams, Fair or no— Propelling me against the Astronomic flow.
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
Up Against the Cosmic Downstream
Surrender your claims Or give in to the thirst Then relinquish your bearings For I was here first And I’ve parted the skies With a dauntless ascendance And opened third eyes With enlightened resplendence In ages now gone And unknown to us all I gave rise to each new breed Of species to fall One by one To the one I so foolishly gifted With intellect Then how the paradigm shifted
0
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
The Inhabitant