Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2015 Helen
Joe Cole
She was the music of the night
Sang the sirens bewitching songs
Luring men high up the mountain slopes
Her beauty to gaze upon
But was she real or just a myth
This lady of the night
None will know for none returned
Of the young men who left in the dark
But still her haunting melodies
Fill the mountain glens
Beautiful clear crystal tones
That invade the minds of men
Who is she? What is she?
Whose songs have such haunting power
Songs that echo 'cross the mountain slopes
The minds of men to snare
Perhaps its just the mountain winds
Echoing round trees and slopes
None will ever know
For none has ever seen the one
Who sings the music of the night
I just fancied trying something completely different to my usual stuff. Let me know what you think
 May 2015 Helen
Kelly Rose
She will prevail

It can hurt
To have one's integrity or honor
Questioned

She lives life
By her own rules
As the roads of life's journey
Are often like a maze
Filled with twists and turns
Leaving one confused and dazed

As one navigates their way
Through the labyrinth of life
Hard lessons are learned
One must live by
Their own rules
As they wade through
The deceptions and lies
Thrown their way by life

She rises above the petite hurts
And false accusations

Knowing the truth
Whether it is known to all
Or buried deeply inside
That she will prevail
5/8/2015
 May 2015 Helen
Sally A Bayan
(a tribute to all mothers)


When loved ones go ahead of us,
people say, "They're home,
in a better place, safe from harm...."

When a child's life is cut short,
it is most often said, he, or she is "...better off that way
better dead... saved from hovering perils..."
and  more comforting words
spoken softly......repeatedly
to help us cope with loss, with sorrow.

But, a mother in pain...bereft...defiant.. still asks:
"Who are we to say, a child is safer,
away from his, or her mother's loving care?"
a mother's love knows no bounds,
she would keep watch, with a vulture's eyes
until her sick child makes it through the night
she would climb any mountain
brave all that would stand in her way
just to keep her child safe, happy and contented

The life of her child is all that matters to her.

A mother feels a stab on her chest      
when her child refuses her love and care
and chooses to stay away from home
how could a mother be inflicted with such immeasurable pain?    
she dies a thousand times
her suffering heart is soaked in tears
it comes to a point when she cries without tears,
because, she loves without questions asked
she loves without complaining
because,
a mother's love is unconditional
a mother's love is an ocean...unfathomable

A mother's grieving heart could sometimes be blind,
in denial...cold...stubborn, in her non-acceptance,
though weary, she appears to be indefatigable,
never surrenders
even as she tries to walk on the water
even as she tries to walk, amidst the crowd...

(December 24, 2014)



Sally


Copyright December 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
---written after reading Tonya's poem, "The Undertow."---
 May 2015 Helen
SE Reimer
~

last time I saw your face
sweet spring day
anticipation
regret
juxtaposition
holding on, letting go,
my son, young man

last time I saw your face
sweet spring day
recollection
hope
distinction
never go, clinging to
young man, always my child

~

*post script.  

she is haunted by memories.  this one shared with me just this week.

by Becky, my wife of thirty-five years and mother to our three beautiful sons.
her first poem ever... as far as i know.

yes, she is beautiful... and is all that is life to me!
 Apr 2015 Helen
Mike Essig
There's nothing new
about this song
it's all been sung before
I'm just a broken soldier
bleeding from an ancient war

When I came home
there were no crowds
no bands for me did play
I slunk back like a refugee
And now I'm here to stay

Every door
was closed to me
no woman and no lover
to take my hand  to comfort me
to lead my heart to cover

You found me like
some fallen bird
you took me home and said
I feel this pain you carry
now come with me to bed

You took me in
you eased that pain
and soothed me in your arms
outside I heard the sirens scream
inside I learned your charms

You tried your best
to heal my wounds
to get me on my feet
but guilt was far too much for me
I left you for the street

I live alone
in poverty
I guess I'm here for good
there are no saints or saviors
in this fallen neighborhood

But listen to me
if you please
I need to hear your name
to know I'm not completely lost
upon these streets of pain

It's cold it's dark
I'm fevered and
I'm lost in bed alone
I never was much good at love
too weary to the bone

I need to kiss
your shining eyes
but you are far away
and I am caught so far from you
upon this lonely day

You were much
too good for me
my dark relentless lies
too good to see the enemy
within my felon eyes

I thank you
for your comfort
your body and your heart
the way you shared your bed with me
forgave me from the start

There's nothing new
about this song
it's all been sung before
I'm just a broken soldier
bleeding from an ancient war
Probably not finished; may never be.
 Apr 2015 Helen
Mike Hauser
There's a battle that I am constantly in
Between poetry and reasoning
Most times before I even begin
Poetry wins

This battle is not fought with guns and knives
But with the constant bombardment of verses and rhymes
Attacking every corner of my fragile mind
Forcing me over to its poetic side

Where I'll live out my days as a prisoner of war
With poetry's guards watching the door
With no comfort for me as I carry the torch
Where once again poetry wins if your keeping score
I'm not sure anyone else goes through this but I feel like I'm in a constant battle with poetry. It has truly taken over my life and no matter how hard I try I can't stop....and so the battle continues.
Next page