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Don Bouchard May 2020
A week or so
After the funeral,
The interment of ashes,
The settling of accounts,
The realization of continuing sighs,
We helped Mom empty
Things you left behind.

Shirts and pants,
Jackets, shoes,
The quiet, worn things
Left by a man who
Said little,
Worked hard,
Saved earnings,
Lived generously.

At the bottom of your dresser drawer,
Lay wool socks, leather gloves
We kids had given you
Father's days, Christmases,
(Never birthdays),
You'd put away for some other day....

I remember your telling me,
"I don't need anything!"
And maybe you didn't....
But we did.
You gave us everything,
Including your life
In the end.

Our feeble gifts
Lie waiting
For feet and hands
That that have gone away.
Thoughts about my Dad, now eight years gone....
MDtheWordsmith May 2020
Life, so full of gifts
Make sure you never forget
Always cherish them
Jay M Apr 2020
They want to give you things
They want to waste time and effort all on you
And all for what?
Temporary enjoyment,
Lasting anywhere from a few minutes
To a few years
Even so -
It's so unnecessary, even wasteful
Of what they work for
What they could use to support themselves
Yet they waste it upon such things
For another
To see them smile
At least every once in a while.

- Jay M
April 28th, 2020
Someone asked what I wanted for my birthday. I only want to see the people I care about and those that care about me, or maybe to go on a long walk. If not then maybe camp out in the backyard, or board games with my siblings and parents for a couple of hours, or even just do some karaoke in the living room.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Because She Craved the Very Best
by Michael R. Burch

Because she craved the very best,
he took her East, he took her West;
he took her where there were no wars
and brought her bright bouquets of stars,
the blush and fragrances of roses,
the hush an evening sky imposes,
moonbeams pale and garlands rare,
and golden combs to match her hair,
a nightingale to sing all night,
white wings, to let her soul take flight ...

She stabbed him with a poisoned sting
and as he lay there dying,
she screamed, "I wanted everything!"
and started crying.

Keywords/Tags: Female, lover, crave, best, gifts, presents, offerings, unsatisfied, demanding, tears, betrayal, backstabbing
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Unfit Gifts
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

At sunrise, I cast my nets into the sea,
dredging up the strangest and most beautiful objects from the depths ...
some radiant like smiles, some glittering like tears, others flushed like brides’ cheeks.
When I returned, staggering under their weight, my love was relaxing in her garden, idly tearing leaves from flowers.
Hesitant, I placed all I had produced at her feet, silently awaiting her verdict.
She glanced down disdainfully, then pouted: "What are these bizarre things? I have no use for them!"
I bowed my head, humiliated, and thought:
"Truly, I did not contend for them; I did not purchase them in the marketplace; they are unfit gifts for her!"
That night I flung them, one by one, into the street, like refuse.
The next morning travelers came, picked them up and carted them off to exotic countries.

Keywords/Tags: Tagore, translation, Hindi, unfit, gifts, sunrise, nets, sea, depths, objects, smiles, tears, cheeks, love, lover, mistress, flowers, verdict, bizarre, refuse, trash, garbage, travelers, exotic, mrburdu
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Let Me Give Her Diamonds
by Michael R. Burch

Let me give her diamonds
for my heart's
sharp edges.

Let me give her roses
for my soul's
thorn.

Let me give her solace
for my words
of treason.

Let the flowering of love
outlast a winter
season.

Let me give her books
for all my lack
of reason.

Let me give her candles
for my lack
of fire.

Let me kindle incense,
for our hearts
require

the breath-fanned
flaming perfume
of desire.

Keywords/Tags: Valentine, gifts, diamonds, roses, books, candles, incense, perfume, desire, love
If the only birds allowed to sing
Were the birds that sang the best
I’d find our woods a gloomy place
For I’d miss the songs of the rest

If all the plants across the world
Were those of most vibrant red
I’d ache for the varied colors
Which we now enjoy instead

And so it is with people too
We each have our inner light
My light may not be brightest
But still it dispels the night

My talents, gifts, and powers
Bring increased life to all I know
I’ll always let my light shine forth
So prosperity to all will flow
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Many years ago I heard the phrase, “If the only birds in the forests that sang in the forest were the ones that sang best, the forests would be very quiet.”  That one saying has really helped me to enjoy singing, and I sing every day!  I'm not the best, but I can still sing and it brings happiness to my life.  As I was pondering about that, I thought, “I could write a poem about that”
Sharde' Fultz Mar 2020
I want to believe I haven't lost it
That THING
That thing that makes me feel like
im really doing something
Lile these aren't just words thrown together
Or intended to rhyme
Or too deliberately "deep"
But that thing that once you're done
You're proud. But not too proud.
It stands alone
Yet you always feel it's just a little unfinished.
But you dare not touch it.

I want to believe I still have that thing that's real
That I haven't let time and hardship harden a gift that was born in me once upon a time when I thought the world was a different place

A time that has begun to feel like someone else owned those thoughts
Lived the feelings that bore those inspirations
When those words came from the what ifs
And hubris
I want to believe that thing is still there
And still precious.
And while today it knows what life has carved me into
That it too was being carved
And can place these words together
In such a way that I know it's true
And its mine
Emily Mitchell Feb 2020
During days domain
we are bound by what we see
merely with our eyes.

locked and wound with chains
are the doors of time and space
their keys hide in dreams...

In sleep we are free
to see the world in new light
with boundless power...

Eternal moment.
A lifetime in an hour
never to forget...

Unlocked and Unbound
we fly through Realms wild and strange Freed by the dream's gift.
This is from one of my dream journals...
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