joe-daverbal-minddancer
Maryland
I've been writing about 5 years now / I've been published in a collaborative effort with Innerchild press / There's no structured style to my poetry so it's raw at best / Same goes for short stories and most of my poetic endeavors end that way / I have a love of all things artistic, and can find beauty in a rusted nail / So that's me, eclectic and somewhat misdirected
We danced once and became what love means.
I remember the music and that flower in her hair.
We'd talk about things and shared interest
Funny how *** never came into our conversation!
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Tonight is one that makes a flower reach out in the frost of winter
So warm inside it blooms as if the moon were the sun
Grow with me, That our fruit will seed Love and Peace
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
I’ve often sat back and watched others in romantic play
A playful wrestle in a public place
A hand holding walk in the park on a summer’s eve
I’ve seen these things and longed one day it was me
I’ve lost in love and won a few battles too
Giving up on love is not what I do
Now these Songs of Solomon I’ve been following
Have such a deeper meaning
I’ve found that spirit that changes my breathing
Something so fleeting as an inbox greeting
Led to so much more than I was seeking
What can I bring you to make you see
One so beautiful in my view of thee
I know that doubt of the self conscience
I know that inner glow of the self confidence
I not giving you empty promises but I promise this
You can feel my sincerity with as much clarity
As if you spoke these words yourself
And we are both at that stage in life
When lying to one’s self If nothing else is foolish
Now I choose this platform with all these pretty poems
to express how much I love you
I have no need to hover above you to consummate anything
For love is all I bring to thee
A love so deep that I can watch grow and maybe even go
Are you the most beautiful woman I know “NO”
But when I tell you so, it’s more than physical attributes
It’s more than just the right angle from a photo shoot
It’s that raw, with no makeup on
It’s you wearing sweats and a tee and you talking with me
Then I start reciting poetry, then in turn you sing to me
We laugh and talk, I interrupt and ask “Babygirl”, did you eat?
Are you feeling okay, I find myself checking in on you
Thinking about you as I live my day
Have I told you I love you today, not to sound cliche’
I’ve often watched others in romantic play
What I feel for you is no game
And I want you to know there is no shame in being with you
Being seen with you is an honor, you are no afterthought
if something else was for naught
I’ve never bought into that frame of mind
Baby you are my kind of woman
You are the one that should’ve been, before and after
As we master our own destinies yet combine as one entity
We shall enjoy what seems, meant to be
I lost in love and won a few battles too
Babygirl there’s no one like you.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
It’s three in the morning and my friend can’t sleep
thoughts flood her mind and she called to me
We began a little text over the miles that separate us
Before long our voices reverberated between us
Idle chatter began a getting to know one another
Then the natural course of us took over
and we flowed with one another
Words from our past
made a future that was meant to be
It’s as if I’d written for her and She’d written for me
3 am and we’re finding where our hearts are
We’ve run the gauntlet of suspicion
just from our romantic bleeds thus far
What chemistry is this, that we should draw such attention
They truly have no clue, how powerful the pen is
Or are we clueless to how strong our bond really is
It’s 3 am and neither of us can hang up
It’s 3 am with a lifetime to discuss
What details do entail our life’s story
What hour is this that our hearts find solace
What hour is this that we speak about the glory
Words of prayer are far from our lips
Words we share feel just like a kiss
It’s 3 am and I’ve not told you how beautiful you are
What you’ve written is a given, but humble we are
Have we fumbled the ball given to us
Do we take advantage of the position
of where we’ve been ******
All these questions yet to be answered
It’s 3 am and the phone rings
Will I just talk, or romance her.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 5:45 AM UTC
Forty five degrees of reflection
She stands there
It's not a place she want's to be
Told to, and she knows to be still
Yesterday was peaceful
Today she was deceitful
and honesty placed her there
It's not time yet, only 45 minutes
45 minutes to think of what she's done
45 minutes in hopes he'll come
To free her will takes 45 motions
45 devotions of why
She won't do it again
Corner ******
like granite she stands
Frozen while time spans
Frozen with tied hands
45 minutes she has to hold it
4 or 5 cups of water
what torture is this
what lesson learned
10 more minutes added
Her head was turned
The countdown begins
10, 9,8,7,6,
5,4,3,2,1, oh ****
Corner rules she didn't move
Kind of like Simon says
You may go now
was finally said.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
Where do hearts go in the middle of the night when they flee from the game
How many shallow conversations can one woman sustain
A bar, a drink a tap on your shoulder, a mirror stands before you
No one has ever explored you, no one has taken the time to just unwind
Why now, why this time as the whirlwind is getting stronger
This unpredictable weather will soon be over, just a whisper over night pillows
“Daddy I need you, to help me see this through”
Fear not the wind my pumpkin, you’ve just experienced a man
You’ve been blown before, only this time your feet has left the land
There’s no need to catch you, go on and ride the wind
The woman in you has finally emerged, and not a wasted moment was spent
You’ll cry tonight my pumpkin, and sigh with a heavy chest
You’ll catch a whiff from a memory, and your eyes will well up again
Don’t hold it in babygirl, for the wind will subside
I can’t and won’t tell you there’ll be no emptiness inside
You’ve been through so much so count it as a blessing
For once a mutual experience without the window dressing
The wind often blows and there’s no need for a wind breaker
You were caught on a breeze and that whisper was much greater
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
If you think you're lonely now, you probably are
Do you find yourself wishing upon stars?
Friends and family are mere garments for your soul
When the night falls, you're still left feeling cold
Do you find yourself more busy than usual?
Are you occupying your mind with things that are trivial
Will you drown yourself in poetic verses
Let me say this again I don't think you heard this
Will you drown yourself in poetic verses
If you think you're lonely now, there's no app or service
Do you place yourself in a crowd of people
Do you bow your head and pray under a steeple?
Praying your soul to rest and that God may keep you
Yet still among the masses no one can see you
Love lost love never found, the loneliness is equal
When you tap on your keys and reach out overseas
looking for someone to greet you
If you think you're lonely now
You'll feel lonelier knowing they'll never meet you
Oh the disparity of it all, the pain to just be you
Are you praying again, for life to just leave you?
Or will you occupy that single seat at a matinee at the Bijou
if you think you're lonely now, I believe you.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Etched Mirror
He was a giant with wavy hair wearing a pair of Stacy Adams
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
I watched him shave, I watched him lather his face
The blade scraped and made this sound
Tiny black hairs on porcelain abound
That laughter and that smile
I watched his habits good and bad
He was the Father some young men never have
I miss him now, love him still
Some see me and get chills
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
I watched him drink, I knew his pockets would be like brinks
I capitalized on the stink from his pores
He drank till there was no more
There he was passed out on the floor
Mom was a little sore, but she helped him up
and man could he snore
He took me out on tours of his favorite haunts
Sides of his family with cousins and Aunt’s
Down in the country folk , with a **** well and some goats
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
They poured and he drank, then I heard boy that’s your cousin
Here I’m thinking I’m bout to get some country lovin
This non-conformist was genetically rearranging
Little by little I was becoming more engaging
I heard him say this one time
“Boy don’t tell your Mama” and he walked upstairs but I was quiet
Maybe I was more like him than I should
I was only five but understood
The mirror etched was more than a reflection
It was a connection to his soul, my sons like me I’m told
He’s a non-conformist and it shows
He’ll have his own tales to weave
And though I no longer grieve
That day I saw my father shave
Will forever be a part of me
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
She was eerily happy since her husband's death
She even threw a party the day he was laid to rest
She cried with the rest of them
She lied with the best of them
Ten years later there's still no arrest
He died on all hallows eve
better known as Halloween
She still has the pictures of that horrific scene
His torso was more so a mess at best
He was hacked with a machete from his head to his chest
He was minus his *****
So how was this seen as an accident
The facts were bent
The spin doctors spent
A Halloween prank gone wrong was how it went
The town folk were forgiving after losing one of their own
He was born and raised there
She'd shown up almost wind blown
From Haiti some say, more like Hades most felt
But these were loving folk in the bible belt
Ten years to the day, the very second it happened
There was a darkness to the sky and lightening was flashing
Rain began to soak the thirsty land
And from neath the small tombstone appeared a hand
Inside her home there was celebrating and laughter
The two women who murdered him, were clicking their glasses
They toasted and boasted about the perfect crime
The wife and the other woman just having a good time
One big flash, then BOOM
The lights go out, they scramble for candles
but not one lying about
Another flash of light then a silhouette appears
The other woman starts screaming "HE'S HERE HE'S HERE"
The wife slaps her hard, saying you're just seeing shadows
He's buried out back, see look
But the grave was hollow
Another flash of light then BOOM
The door crashes in,
mud dripping from that machete that was buried with him
He swung with a swift blow almost severing her shoulder
He swung again and missed but his intent grew bolder
Another flash them Boom
And the town's church bell rang
His Wife grabbed the machete and swung at nothing
She looked outside and the grave was intact
She looked down at her feet
There lay her lover brutally hacked
Sirens were wailing as they drove her off to jail and
This is the end of my Halloween tale
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC