blair-baker - Hello Poetry

I wonder if trees feel pain when asked to accept a season's passed? Or if the path trodden with footprints side by side, grieves when only one returns. Leaves drop, but I hear no crying. Rain falls, but puddles call the children near. I'd like to be a tree whose branches bend with the turning winds Or the muddy trail full of splashy laughter and grins But it's Winter and the wind of change cuts, icy blades, and my tender roots are battered and torn. So I will wait until Spring arrives, and with her Hope. She will dry my tears and shake off the dust. Show me beauty I can love and trust. She will fill my baskets to the rim. And heal my heart deep within.

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Dec 22, 2018

Dec 22, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC

When Seasons Pass

I wonder if trees feel pain when asked to accept a season's passed? Or if the path trodden with footprints side by side, grieves when only one returns. Leaves drop, but I hear no crying. Rain falls, but puddles call the children near. I'd like to be a tree whose branches bend with the turning winds Or the muddy trail full of splashy laughter and grins But it's Winter and the wind of change cuts, icy blades, and my tender roots are battered and torn. So I will wait until Spring arrives, and with her Hope. She will dry my tears and shake off the dust. Show me beauty I can love and trust. She will fill my baskets to the rim. And heal my heart deep within.

12

A friend came over, asked me how I was, There was no time to answer, because She told me what she thought. So I acquiesced and fell into line, Sang her the blues in 12 bar time. I didn't know something was wrong with me Thought it was only PMT Or a case of fatigue. But no apparently I’m depressed, Need to be more like Jesus Her diagnosis brought all my thanksgiving As she scanned my life, judged all my living She always knows better, and she tells me how. Hope she comes again; I feel so much better now.

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Oct 5, 2017

Oct 5, 2017 at 10:40 AM UTC

With a Friend Like This

A friend came over, asked me how I was, There was no time to answer, because She told me what she thought. So I acquiesced and fell into line, Sang her the blues in 12 bar time. I didn't know something was wrong with me Thought it was only PMT Or a case of fatigue. But no apparently I’m depressed, Need to be more like Jesus Her diagnosis brought all my thanksgiving As she scanned my life, judged all my living She always knows better, and she tells me how. Hope she comes again; I feel so much better now.

14

Gifts from heaven, the falling leaves. A golden carpet, as trees in gracious abandon unfold in glorious display a sunlit royal welcome. Yellow bursts of amber glistening dew-kissed droplets of love.

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Nov 7, 2016

Nov 7, 2016 at 5:00 AM UTC

Autumn Leaves

Gifts from heaven, the falling leaves. A golden carpet, as trees in gracious abandon unfold in glorious display a sunlit royal welcome. Yellow bursts of amber glistening dew-kissed droplets of love.

9

Mean girls wear the latest styles Have fake smiles Gossip, compare Sow division, despair Their gardens grow in shadowy places Behind walls, in hidden spaces Their nectar has a bitter taste But flies are not discerning They swallow like drunks, cheap wine Sour acid, their own sublime Gluttons crying “More and more!” Rise up in a pungent cloud And acid rain comes pouring down. The vile liquid which they spread-- Their sustenance, their daily bread— On filthy lips, feeds new seed heads. So their gardens will always grow, Filled with thorns and jagged rows And roots running and deep and long and strong, In the dark, where they belong.

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Nov 4, 2016

Nov 4, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC

Mean Girls

Mean girls wear the latest styles Have fake smiles Gossip, compare Sow division, despair Their gardens grow in shadowy places Behind walls, in hidden spaces Their nectar has a bitter taste But flies are not discerning They swallow like drunks, cheap wine Sour acid, their own sublime Gluttons crying “More and more!” Rise up in a pungent cloud And acid rain comes pouring down. The vile liquid which they spread-- Their sustenance, their daily bread— On filthy lips, feeds new seed heads. So their gardens will always grow, Filled with thorns and jagged rows And roots running and deep and long and strong, In the dark, where they belong.

20

Though life abounds with blossoms bright, fed and watered, nurtured right; And trees along the river bank, strengthened so, display their might, Saguaro, YOU surprise me most and give the desert dwellers hope. Alone, you stand in arid sands without your roots in greener lands, yet strong and tall and bright, command my respect and awe. Deep inside your prickly skin, you've stored life's sunshine deep within; Though scarce the raindrops from the sky, you've captured each and treasured, "MY!" If I could be like you, what heights I would achieve. And revel in acceptance that, like you, I'm planted right where I should be.

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Nov 17, 2014

Nov 17, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC

Saguaro

Though life abounds with blossoms bright, fed and watered, nurtured right; And trees along the river bank, strengthened so, display their might, Saguaro, YOU surprise me most and give the desert dwellers hope. Alone, you stand in arid sands without your roots in greener lands, yet strong and tall and bright, command my respect and awe. Deep inside your prickly skin, you've stored life's sunshine deep within; Though scarce the raindrops from the sky, you've captured each and treasured, "MY!" If I could be like you, what heights I would achieve. And revel in acceptance that, like you, I'm planted right where I should be.

17

I’ll always think the best of you I won’t assume the worst No matter what the circumstance No matter what the hurt. Until I’ve walked a mile in your shoes Until you’ve walked in mine Jumping to conclusions in just a waste of time. Rumours fly like butterflies Landing gracefully Bringing honey on their tender lips so innocently; But until I’ve come to you my friend And sought to understand, I won’t believe a word they say because Truth ain’t second-hand. We observe but do not see The possibilities. We only see through coloured lenses of our own reality. I don’t know what’s in your heart You don’t know what’s in mine So let’s leave the temptation Of judging behind. I didn’t mean to hurt you What you read, wasn’t what I meant. Words were taken out of the context Of my heart’s intent. So, come walk with me my friend. Let’s try to talk it out ‘cause wouldn’t life be sweeter with the Benefit of doubt? The benefit of doubt my friend, That’s what I’m giving you The benefit of doubt Can’t see it working any other way.

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Nov 15, 2014

Nov 15, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC

Benefit of Doubt

I’ll always think the best of you I won’t assume the worst No matter what the circumstance No matter what the hurt. Until I’ve walked a mile in your shoes Until you’ve walked in mine Jumping to conclusions in just a waste of time. Rumours fly like butterflies Landing gracefully Bringing honey on their tender lips so innocently; But until I’ve come to you my friend And sought to understand, I won’t believe a word they say because Truth ain’t second-hand. We observe but do not see The possibilities. We only see through coloured lenses of our own reality. I don’t know what’s in your heart You don’t know what’s in mine So let’s leave the temptation Of judging behind. I didn’t mean to hurt you What you read, wasn’t what I meant. Words were taken out of the context Of my heart’s intent. So, come walk with me my friend. Let’s try to talk it out ‘cause wouldn’t life be sweeter with the Benefit of doubt? The benefit of doubt my friend, That’s what I’m giving you The benefit of doubt Can’t see it working any other way.

33

There’s nothing I can say You’ll just take it the wrong way. It’s been like this since before we met You determined who I was, and the mould was set. I walked into your expectations, The canvas prearranged, Painted me in colours dark Your heart the gauge. Were the canvas fresh and clean, Another artist might have seen to let the paint fall where it might, enjoy the image, love-- chiarascuro’s light. So think what you want See the world through those eyes I can’t do this anymore Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried scratching off the layers you painted on that screen I’m not that image you’ve painted of me, But I realise now it’s in the artist’s hand; His heart creates what’s on that stand.

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Nov 15, 2014

Nov 15, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC

Heart Paints

There’s nothing I can say You’ll just take it the wrong way. It’s been like this since before we met You determined who I was, and the mould was set. I walked into your expectations, The canvas prearranged, Painted me in colours dark Your heart the gauge. Were the canvas fresh and clean, Another artist might have seen to let the paint fall where it might, enjoy the image, love-- chiarascuro’s light. So think what you want See the world through those eyes I can’t do this anymore Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried scratching off the layers you painted on that screen I’m not that image you’ve painted of me, But I realise now it’s in the artist’s hand; His heart creates what’s on that stand.

21

And now upon that pillow lay all that remains of the tragic day. Reduced to a box, his ashes stay Wrapped up in a blanket given at birth. Will anyone know how much he was worth? I want the world to know! I remember--I remember well; So my sweet brother, your life I'll tell. To try to forget a loss so great, they swept up reminders of the terrible day and all the days that had gone before. They just shut the door, as if you'd never been. Gone were the photos. Where are the toys? Can't we even remember the JOY? I lay beside your box before we take you to the sea. For now... you are here with me. Your scent deep inside this blanket sweet. Will you stay, if I keep it neat? Or like memories, will you fade away? The years have passed and I am old but still I wonder where you are. Then suddenly I see you walking by--the grown man you should have been-- tall and handsome, blonde and bright, just like my own two boys. And I hold them close.

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Feb 25, 2010

Feb 25, 2010 at 12:57 AM UTC

Reduced to a Box

And now upon that pillow lay all that remains of the tragic day. Reduced to a box, his ashes stay Wrapped up in a blanket given at birth. Will anyone know how much he was worth? I want the world to know! I remember--I remember well; So my sweet brother, your life I'll tell. To try to forget a loss so great, they swept up reminders of the terrible day and all the days that had gone before. They just shut the door, as if you'd never been. Gone were the photos. Where are the toys? Can't we even remember the JOY? I lay beside your box before we take you to the sea. For now... you are here with me. Your scent deep inside this blanket sweet. Will you stay, if I keep it neat? Or like memories, will you fade away? The years have passed and I am old but still I wonder where you are. Then suddenly I see you walking by--the grown man you should have been-- tall and handsome, blonde and bright, just like my own two boys. And I hold them close.

28

I’m a tube of toothpaste With the bottom rolled up tight And every last bit of peppermint’s Squeezed out right. Twisted, empty, crinkled, Flat out on the windowsill Minty fumes residual.

0

Jan 15, 2010

Jan 15, 2010 at 10:23 AM UTC

Adreneline

I’m a tube of toothpaste With the bottom rolled up tight And every last bit of peppermint’s Squeezed out right. Twisted, empty, crinkled, Flat out on the windowsill Minty fumes residual.

7

It’s just spackle. Cracks start And you keep cleaning it out And filling it up With new brands But it cracks again Because it’s just spackle And so it’s gonna crack Because the house shifts When it rains When it blows In the sun Nothing stays the same So spackle cracks And that hole Needs filling. I’m tired of brands; Seems there ought to Be a Carpenter Who’ll fix the holes For good.

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Jan 15, 2010

Jan 15, 2010 at 3:47 AM UTC

Holes

It’s just spackle. Cracks start And you keep cleaning it out And filling it up With new brands But it cracks again Because it’s just spackle And so it’s gonna crack Because the house shifts When it rains When it blows In the sun Nothing stays the same So spackle cracks And that hole Needs filling. I’m tired of brands; Seems there ought to Be a Carpenter Who’ll fix the holes For good.

21