Of all the faces man puts forth
to hide his dark inner sorrows
Love is the one that matters most
as from the deep soul it borrows
It lives among us everywhere
memories of the gentle breeze
Speaking only truth to the wind
for all the others we're to please
Pen sonnets to your gentle way
sing songs of the cold raging sea
Amid toil from emotions bliss
these feelings, flow, freely from me
We know Fate in all her fury
fear no rage from her painful screams
For whenever the truth be told
she harms us only in our dreams
No one controls the hearts desire
nor whether it be happy or sad
As in each one of ours does beat
torrid seeds both of good and bad
We pine for that one's acceptance
a glint in the young woman’s eye
The sweet smell of her hair caress
as she wistfully saunters by
Those few small things all so precious
create memories cherished gone
Recalling times of loves sweet bliss
loving moments of youth go on
For all these things we know of us
and then a hundred, thousand more
Life will never answer them all
as we open up each new door
Man will always question his fate
search for that brighter inner light
To illuminate his darkness
and scare away the haunting night
Tate
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
What frail creatures we men are
made from sinew, muscle and pride
Thinking we can conquer the world
for the woman who sits by our side
All is brash, gall and bravado
with such a carefree debonair
Taunting those who test our mettle
intimidating all who dare
A young man thinks himself gifted
to hold sway and folly so near
Injure his pride and you will find
that he becomes someone to fear
A man is nothing without pride
it is the food that feeds his soul
Desired respect of fellows
becomes his sole life’s aim and goal
The handsome woman of his dreams
is she that realizes this flaw
Playing to his strength and weakness
by pretending she never saw
To that woman he grants comfort
strong arms forever hold her tight
Their truth of heart is not broken
whenever she is out of sight
The reason men are unfaithful
they behave only by your side
Has little to do with temper
and everything to do with pride
If you wish for a happy home
a man who's strait forward and true
Just play host to his foolish pride
and he will be loyal to you
Tate
Original with pictures and music is here
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/482949/
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
There was in a country of old
A mighty giant, strong and bold
His feet, bigger than two big dogs
His fingers strong like wooden logs
High up in the mountain, I'm told
Away from the streets and the crowd
In his dark cave he dwelt alone
Feared by all, and fearing none
People trembled at his mere sight
Children, women and men alike
What a big arm, what a great roar!
And what a pride in his furor!
So you must say, he was happy
What is the point of my story?
I shall thus tell you a secret
The tall, tall fellow never slept
He would sometime give it a try
And although he'd never known why
His eyes shut in the depth of night
He'd give it up, not feeling right
But then one day, an ant, curious
Seeing him angry and bilious
Wondered " Golly, what's up in here?"
And climbed all the way to his ear
Feeling an itch, the giant twitched
And threatened "Out! You little witch!"
But the ant crept deeper inside
Whispering "Let's see what you hide"
"Do not look there, minuscule you!
It's not for ants to look into!"
Replied he in an angry slur
But she begged him "Please hear my word"
"For what I see, under your bulk
The very thing that makes you sulk
Depriving you of your slumbers
Is that you frighten great number
Truth to be told, your heart is sweet
But you're hiding in your retreat
For if you scare off more than few
You fear them more than they fear you!"
There was in a country of old
A mighty giant, strong and bold
His feet, bigger than two big dogs
His fingers strong like wooden logs
You will perhaps think it's fancy
'Cause his best friend is an ant, see.
And all the people from the town
Come to visit him in his home
But not at night, of after meals
They wouldn't dare disturb the dreams
Of a mighty giant's mighty sleep!
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
"Back in my day," he began, swaying forwards and backwards on the wooden front porch bench, "we had to work for our cent. Traveled by foot and shoveled **** Y'all kids have it too easy these days, I say!" I could not help but laugh. He always went on rants like this, it wasn't anything unusual. But usually, I never respond. Usually, I am hardly listening but today my blood stream was still so drunk from this morning's strong *** of coffee that words tumbled out of my mouth like *****
"Hmm.. really? How'd you land that job?" I muttered sarcastically, desperate for conversation and painting cartoon flowers with faces and people and trees onto the driveway with chalk, my curly headed baby sister, Shelby by my side.
"Land? Kid, I di'nt land no job! I was forced the job! Family owned a farm, but o'course you already knew that!" He winced.
"Oh yeah.. I forgot." I returned apologetically.
"Yeah.. but everythin' was a lot less 'spensive those days. Got more bang for yer buck. Although, we never really had much buck anyway." Surprised, I put down the chalk and wiped my powdery, multicolored hands on my jeans, leaving a yellow and pink handprint just above my knees, but Shelby spoke before I could.
"You mean you were... poor?" She asked innocently.
Instantaneously, he stopped swaying and looked at Shelby and I blankly for a moment and then looked down at his bare feet. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw his lip quiver. Feeling ashamed by my baby sister's tactless impulse, I picked up the blue chalk stick and stared at it, unsure what else to do. Many uncomfortable seconds passed when he finally spoke again.
"Poor? Naw. I was never poor darlin'! The size of yer wallet don't mean nothin' bout wealth. I had a roof over my head and shoes on my feet. Corn and bread and milk at the dinner table served same time every evenin'. My mama and papa tucked me in at night. I hated my brothas and sistas just as much as I loved 'em." He smiled to himself and fiddled with his fingers, hands in his lap. Glancing at the sunlit, open field view in the distance, it was obvious he was lost in retrospect. "Pfft! Poor? Never. And then I met yer grandmotha..." he giggled genuinely and shook his head. "That was it. She was like a diamond in a coal mine, that one. Her wit as fiery as her hair and a stare as sharp as her tongue. She had me at 'Get lost!'" He chimed, cackling. I couldn't help but match his laughter with my own and Shelby quickly joined, but once it died down, my thoughts did too and words escaped my mind. As well as his, it seemed. We sat quietly, silenced by the whirling wisps of wind that sung through the autumn air. Chatter wasn't necessary at that moment. Then, leaning back and resting his folded hands behind his head, he grinned and began to sway once again.
"Naw. I was the richest man alive."
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Through darkness, laced in edges of light,
And rain, falling like angels plagued by blight,
Shattering their heavenly bones and wings,
Onto the eyeless dust of their return;
Through paths stranger to the hope of spring,
Where voices of ghosts hang with cries of “Burn!”
And moss mottled trees, like macabre jesters
Dance, limbless, leaves flailing grotesquely
To the secret japes of wind-bourn nesters;
Through corpse-ridden forests of insanity,
To where the rocks dress as the three witches
And chant midst their vainglorious riches
*“All hail, Eremita, bound to the adamah altar,
All hail, Eremita, your blood soma from the mortar,
All hail, Eremita, thou shalt be dead hereafter”...*
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
I arise to thee, beautiful pilgrim
Returning to the ***** of Winter,
Droving forth the winds once full of whims,
But now bound to thy will- oh Enchanter
Of the first dancing lights- by the promised
Arrival of the new Gods of the sky.
You wear the morning light- Remised
Of the nascent azure and its red Eye -
Like a veil, in mourning of the silence.
The kings and queens of burning summer,
The din of the humans’ blissful pretense,
Will soon seek the night like moths a taper
And tributaries of parched skin will be paid
To the pest that walks, the old timekeeper
And the shaft flies and leaves things unsaid.
Away! Hot and languishing despair
For I arise to dreams of the sprites of Winter,
And the light kisses my skin like sweet Death,
Oh! Sweet, sweet ghost of coldness, here, my wreath!
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
On the cloudy moon of
maroon ebb
I think about you
I think about all green
branches of unruly tree
that fails to stand still in
hope and unexplainable despair.'
Like the half eaten moon,
like the oozing blood of skin peeled lips,
my mind stagger on you,
on how to describe you.
And then you
come unannounced with
withered broken words and
nascent nervous grin.
(How can I describe you?)
Thick lips and eyes that
have ship like mystery. Yet dark halo
that surrounds your eyes are not
mysterious rather open
childish and blunt, just
like the love poem you
gave me once with quivering hands.
I love your hands
and how
they balance your
dangling silver chain watch
as it incorrigibly goes
south east and west.
On some nights, with
absolute pangs of naked flesh
when I detest
my own existence I see
you floating around me like
a fly,
humming
in your own noisy, boisterous sounds
lapping, overlapping on
my urgency to understand love
life and death. I ask questions
and you give answers of an active fool. I
who had have, once, travelled
door to door begging for answers
get tired, mad and stupidly excited on
the fecundity and confidence of your style.
You say, you love me
I say, **** off.
How can I explain that
I am a mad jester
and God, Soul and Earth
guides me to madness
I see myself on a sea
standing on a wooden plank
gazing stars as
my dearest Cynthia
christens me and ignites
the madness in me.
Just like you meditate
my madness sedates me
into rolling pumpkin. At times
there is only sand in me
that slips, dissolves
and detests containment.
I burn at days and
on a very very jet black night
flicker like cigarette sparks.
I am thick as smoke
and I evaporates like roman candles
in the form of long veil of
frankincense that has driven
civilizations crazy. I know
my wits have burned in Byzantium
and in Arabia, between prosperity
and blood of gold quest
I have lingered in the veils
of blue- green eye
Arab women when they
inhale and exhale
vapour of dry sun and ‘itar’
of their heterogamous Arab Lord.
While I was riding on my
******* camel I have seen you, once,
crossing Nile with your entourage
of semi naked women
on your way to Medina. Later,
a century later, I realized how you
had have been fallen in love
with me and with others
of dark skin and oval large eyes
Once under shadow of an
imported willow tree
you have sworn on mountains
that there are temples,
in a holy land where Ganges streams,
which you made just for me.
On hearing this I called upon
Queens and Kings of salty ice kingdoms
and went on war on / with you. This war
lasted for twenty seven days
and forty seven nights. We fought
on planets, on stars, on clouds, on sands
on sea, on lands and
on nothing. I teased your wings
you teased my sail ,
until, one day
you woke me up from my office slumber
and just like this and that
we sat across each other
talking about monk and monkeys in a
smelly, ill-coloured cafeteria.
By M
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
My heart goes prestissimo!
As thoughts swirl round my mind.
This weary soul seeks you.
In which abode will I find?
A lustful sight – you naked before my eyes.
Flesh wrapped in skin – yours against mine.
Lie down my love;
Let us dine.
As I gently push my lips against thine
ears and whisper:
You are my Aphrodite...
Take me to ecstatic heights.
Let me kiss you endlessly...
Soft.
Hard.
But each passionately.
Let me hide in your warmth...
Till I reach your soul.
Till I feel its glow.
Till this fantasy fall.
Till my reality calls.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
You’re gone now,
And there’s nothing I can do,
I want more than anything,
To run away with you
Just like a fairytale,
We’ll escape this town,
Where you’ll be my prince,
And I’ll wear a crown
We’ll wake up every morning
By each other’s side
Ready to begin our life
To take on the ride
You’ll dance with me
Just like you used to
Only this time
pain will be through
We’re here together now,
I won’t have to be hurt again,
This my little fairytale,
At least I can pretend.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
I woke up drowning in my sheets
Another day to do my job
Slowly starting up the daily routine
I could still feel my head throb
Night shifts are normal shifts
It's the only time that would work
Slowly sifting through the filth
Of the memories they took
I pick out things put in some,
I sometimes put in fakes
Does it really matter?
It's just happiness at stake
My cause is unexplained
No compensation or benefits
My work has no awards
But it keeps everything together
Every night and every day
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC