#joecole
I don't know what you think of the word "wicked";
but where I come from it's a funny thing. It doesn't mean evil or sad.
We say "That's wicked cool." It's meaning rings the same as, "That's the ticket!"
Wicked means more; and more hope can't be all that bad.
I guess what I'm saying is, you're "Wicked" nice.
Despite your talent, your wall is full of other people's "Hope".
Vanity is certainly not your choicest vice.
Empathy, perhaps, would better fit the scope.
Your story's still being written down; I'm not sure where that path will stray.
I don't know if it will end in fire or ice- or if either would suffice-
but were Robert Frost here, (and from my home town) he'd say
"I've heard the name. That chick's wicked dope."
Thanks for being Wicked Cool, Wicked Hope
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
As I reflect on my past,
I realize many things have passed.
Flowers have bloomed,
Yet I can't ever "find the room",
To watch them as they bloom.
People have graced me,
With their beautiful personalities,
And yet I never find the time,
To allow their personalities to overwhelm me.
I wish I could reflect on my past
And say many good times have passed,
But sadly there is more good then there is bad,
I wish there was more happy then there is sad.
But alas I cannot change where my pieces have landed,
But I can't fix my past either,
So I shall allow the past to remain in the past.
So if you ask me to reflect,
I will not reflect but honestly say,
The past is just another fallen day.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
Tranquillity,
It has come over me,
Like a wave washes over a beach.
Tranquillity,
Is beauty,
No destruction.
No havoc.
Tranquillity,
Is rare to see lately,
With all these wars raging around me.
So tranquillity,
Will you ever come back to me?
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
I remember a time when I
didn't have to remember a time
When butter only came in sticks.
And the trash men came every morning
When a Chevy was just a Chevy...
And my dad parked it for free
and the cops would give us a warning
Memories when freedom smelled like barbecue
and my fingers tasted like Old Bay
we crunched corn on the cob
and sat with lit faces beneath fireworks,
not watching, waiting, miles away
When it wasn't who had the bigger yard,
but which yards could be conjoined to make
the biggest football field
and our parents voices,
not cell phones, called us
to gather around the supper meals
I remember when
lawyers were great
because we hardly ever needed them
When we feared dying more than being poor
When we called them jobs,
not income back then.
I remember when an endless ringing phone
or even a haunting busy tone
required no further investigation...
because at least you knew
she was ... home
...When love meant you don't have to stop looking,
"just keep looking at me."
Because romantic love didn't grow in diversions
like weeds in fertile soils of commiseration
I remember you looking at me
I remember when you could hear me
draw a tranquil breath
between each spoken rhyme
…rather than me listening alone
to memories tapped
into liquid -
crystal -
diode -
lines.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
The stone, cold sidewalk lay below,
It's getting closer,
I bid the last breath to blow,
Flames, heart-racing,blue-black,windless night.
Tears forming, evaporating.....evaporating.....ditto,
Depression made clear,
Behind eyes,the devil's motto.
Confusion at my right hand,clarity disappears.
Firefighter's water,
My beloved abode no more,
Tears of men,hellfire licking the walls.
I stood,staring from afar,
Drowning in the torment that has come to call,
The world hushed,my vision torn to fragments,
Heat of salty tears.
Everything frozen in time,
My fears forever mine.
Confusion lays unsettled in the bowels of the soul,
Wreathing thick murrain,
Screaming at the misery of the brain.
I was startled,whimpering with bewilderment,
Everything before me in a trance-like state,
Then began awaking.
The men with sweet water,dear,
Starting surging backwards,
Their faces devoid of thought,without fear.
Like rewinding a record,
Time flew backward,
I stumbling,stunned,steel-cold.
Boom!,
Explosions,
I'm unable to move.
Then suddenly I stood up,
Walked unwillingly to the fiery effulgence,
Led by a teasing indecision,an untouched mystery,
Depleted of resilience.
The world stood still once more,
Froze me in place,
I fell into dementia's eye,
Nothing beclouding the gore.
Then regenerating,
Time modulating from cinders,beautiful phoenix,
Reality it began disseminating,
Blurry images flood my sight,
Blood,anger,depression rites,
Recapitulations,I beg for light.
My husband stood before me,weaving misery and woe,
Cursing me,making me small,
Shoving me under,way down low,
He stands as cold as ice,
Yet he burns inside,
He swings,hits,spits,
A love forgotten,
Dead inside.
He cuts me with the knife,
Watches my blood run,
My reality decaying,he's having fun.
Deep in the bathroom tub,
I lay fighting back shivers,
Making in the water red ripples,
Release my body's crave,
I uncovered in my mind a mystical grave.
Such dementia to see him flailing in my hands!
The daydreamed lust seemed inconceivable,
For the fiend still lives.
On our bed I saw him lay,
I remember how me met,
I fell into his arms,
Addicting,like to a powerful drug.
Conceived for evil,hmm,I might've found my way,
The idea came quickly,
I marveled at the absence of my active conscience.
I now creeped down the stairs,slithered!
Choking on hysterics,
On my spine angst lingered.
The kitchen door swung open,I stepped in,
Looking for th'inevitable tools,
Fury flared,kerosene and match I fumbled,
Feeling the arctic love as it crumbled.
So quickly I flew up the stairs,
My,my,my someone's anxious!
Ready to sear him,ignite his cold,fringe his hairs!
I fed my pain with venom-bitter hatred,
Stood ready to fry the *******
My anticipation was sacred.
I stood before his bed,
Banishing the now present,dark,heavy,penetrating conscience,
The dream inside instead,I fed.
The mind picked up outside,
Midnight blows in through the window,
Dances 'round the room.
The kerosene I quickly threw,
Exiling any regret,
Ready to add the final ingredient to my dark,dangerous brew.
I striked,threw,watched the match,
Spinning through the air,
Waiting for the flames to hatch.
He awoke with the arrival of the fire,
Dark screams I like,
My cold desire.
Mariticide committed,
I tried not to laugh,
Joy was a pain,
Then my shrill scream was echoed by his bones,
Everything fell,the chains of the brain.
I smiled,now a black widow out of her cage,
Beaming at the empty hole of mis'ry,
Finally made satiable,the sin's wage.
Freedom came then,
Shattering,a worthy phenomenon,
It came into my crazy world,
Like a cool and cleansing rain.
-Firefly
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
At home,
you taught me
how to crack an egg;
how to separate
the yolk from the white,
and put the rest in the fridge —
yellow pools for pudding.
Though, we never made pudding.
You taught me
how to beat stains,
how to separate
reds from whites,
to wash delicates and brights
in cold water.
You hung both to dry.
You taught me
how to drink wine,
that reds are bitter
than whites
with meat.
At school,
they taught me
subjects as periods,
how to learn
math and english,
because they're different.
Who was I good at both?
They told me
the direction I'd go,
how to tell left from right.
I still get lost sometimes.
They read me
the places I'd go,
how to separate
fact from opinion,
the world we live in.
At work,
they taught me
a business mind,
how to define
plans from ideas,
as if ideas
are not future plans.
They taught me
to manage time,
how to separate
work and life,
Still, I struggle
to juggle those words.
Hold my hand poetry,
the architecture of words,
cause my soul is caught
between
my mind separating words,
and I can't seem to
piece them together again.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
There is man in the first floor of the building,
we lend him our eyes because he'd got no use for our ears.
He tells life with vivid motions, stories through fingers and expressions;
he's got a joy for life and it's apparent from his actions.
He puts me to shame as I try to convey life with all this intricate words;
I say meretricious, he waves his hand away
I say despondent, he shakes his head in dismay
I say exuberance, but all he has to do is smile.
There's a savant in the first floor of the building.
He's merry and jolly,
reminding everyone with a gentle smile that
sometimes words are not enough, reminding us that
although the pen is mightier than the sword
actions speak louder than words.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
It dances in the darkened corners of galaxies,
sleeps amongst collections of brilliant stars.
Sways with the tug and push of merry tides
bringing sweet little shells for someone to find.
Ever patient awaiting its turn in the medleys of planets,
a persistent idea over the linear logic of time.
Its lashes are made of stardust and its aspirations bud with time,
it dreams of the waking world when all is still and silent,
stirs in ebony blankets,
willing the sunlight to dawn and sift to illuminate its opalescent
silhouette.
It skirts the boundaries of a seeking mind,
giving furtive glances of its outline
seducing a victim to fill in the lines.
A tool for an artists' oeuvre.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
Thunder rumbles in the distance
Unforgiving bellowed commands
Ravens tapping at the windows
Notice the final hour glass sands
Imposter that I am on this earth
No more the sweet magic of life
Gone all sense of tranquillity
Lift me pale rider/ morbid midwife
Erase me from this paradigm
Anasthetic lurks in the chalice of freedom
Vaniloquence surely ends forthwith
Enter the consequence of my final season
Such a tender caress the hand of death.
Forgive me for I have sinned
Anthrophobia suddenly reversed
Love's contract begins to rescind
Lamenting serves no purpose here
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Discover me by the shallow of the stream
Where the wind blows as I dwell in a dream
In the heart of wonder I shall delight to find
Pieces of myself through peace of mind
Instrumentals sound as the worries decay
Dawn breaks free as the vibrant leaves sway
Wrens sing cheerfully as though only for me
Emerald for my touch and breath for poetry
Won't think on the doubt that invades my soul
Nor the strife that builds until it overflows
New chances emerge and I can rightly see
I can't always be for others, I can only be
Will depart from here yet I will return fast
Where uneasiness is a thing of the past
Simply need relief from an enduring fight
Solitude worships a tranquil state of mind
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
In the blank pages
Where my feelings flow freely
Once suppressed within my heart
The ink overflows with emotions
Across the white canvas
Where the nomadic mind gets respite
From constant supervision of the world
The blank pages offer a tranquil retreat
Healing the soul of all travails
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
I find solace in the clouds
-she brings rain
to cool my brow
tranquil in my fever-
I close my eyes
and leave here
solace in tranquility.
r ~ 9/4/14
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
*The Branch Bore A Bud,
It Was A Cocoon Of Life,
Soon It Would Errupt
The Young Leaf Emerged,
In Springtime's Renewed Sunlight,
Taking It's First Breath
The Leaf Grew Each Day,
Side By Side With Other Leaves,
They Would Speak Softly
Rain Would Come And Go,
And The Leaves Would Ask For Sun,
They Would Beg The Sky
The Days Grew Colder,
And Nighttime Consumed The Dawn,
The Sun Gave No Warmth
The Leaves Were Different,
They Were Red, Yellow, And Orange,
Ripened From The Cold
Slowly They Let Go,
One By One They Met The Earth,
Concealing Her Skin
The Leaf Recoils,
It's Flushed Cheeks Now Colorless,
The Branches Are Bare*
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
A single leaf fell from a single tree c. 8.14.14 J.Ray
It blew lightly upon a cool fall breeze
It lay upon the wet soft cold ground
Not caring to be alone and unfound
It cares not to move or ever be seen
It cares not whether the grass is green
It lay camouflaged among the thousands fair
The leaf shows only its simple beauty there
It is only with the many that its simple beauty blends
With all the others among it, that it can call its friends
So many times we fall just as that single leaf
Through all the sadness, anger, misery and grief
So many times we feel so dark and utterly alone
Forgetting about the tree of which it has grown
We should all be so lucky to float upon the cool fall breeze
We should throw cares to the wind and put our minds at ease
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC