Naomi Buote

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

A word by itself is a wonderful thing
as worthy to the fiddle one string
but adorned with a sentence
a word blossoms in sense
inviting young hearts to sing.

So teach the words by poem or book
that coax young eyes to delve and look
teach words that dance within a song
and tempt young minds to travel along.

As mystery, adventure and images churn
inside young heads as every page turns
deeper knowledge of language they'll yearn
for far more than words they'll be fond
wanting to discover what's happening beyond.

Being a teacher is wonderful but millions do the same job every day just by being a parent. Applaud yourself for taking on such an honorable role and take the time to read to your children.

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

Love-Parched Lips

my love-parched lips ****** in the poison water from your well of lies quenching the wails of my thirsty soul

you enraptured me
cleaved me with your claws

left me specter-like
destroyed, deadened, desolate

a rotting skeleton tree crumbling in the raging rain
straining against my bitter crime of still loving you

scattered at my feet are the grimy scraps of withered leaves
lingering, last remnants of you

in FURY,
i fiercely try to kick you away

the gusty gale gyres you within its blustery breath
killing the echoes of my "I love yous"

offering up to me one silenced second

while in the distance an agitated river loudly roars
"you love him still"

and the heartened moon vanishes from the sky
leaves behind but darkness

but me

a tenuousness, teary night

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

A Mother’s Wish

The wind whisked soft curls from your eyes
as you giggled and swung up high
look mom, I can fly!
you called out a delightful cry
for an instant a wish filled my head
if only I could, I would
change your wooden swing
for golden wings instead
just for the joy to see you fly up high,
laugh out loud and touch the sky.

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

In Quebec's Quiet Winter

In Quebec’s quiet winter wee
A season’s joyful jubilee
Crafted mid cliffs towering tall
Sculptures sitting in silent awe

Glistening gems grown from sea spree
Blue-blush hushed by green-glow glee
Fascinating formed frozen freeze
Sketched a skillful sibylline sprawl
In Quebec’s quiet winter.

A sublime sight stunning to see
Until spring summons the flow free
Tuning it to a fast free fall
A raging race, a roaring wrawl
Go gaze and kneel at nature’s knee
In Quebec’s quiet winter.

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

drifting slowly

drifting slowly out to sea
lost in this vast ocean
that separates you and me
crashing against the waves
of tired and used i love yous
we struggle through the days
fighting to keep today afloat
gasping between tomorrows
and bitterness of yesterdays
evoking choking in our throats
will we learn to swim together
or just drown in one another

Naomi Buote Jun 2016

i (a crazy poetic recipe)

am i solidly so-so sane
am i slightly in-all insane

a sweet and sour, salty, bitter stanza

anaphora, alliteration, rhyme and meter
spiced-up with macerated metaphors
slant rhymes stirred in a one cup measure

chopped, cut, creamed or cored

i guess i am...

a tablespoon of solidly so-so sane
a teaspoon of slightly in-all insane

a roast with a zest of relished craziness
a marinating mustard mix of uniqueness

i guess i am only simply me
an originally homemade recipe

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