Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Someday love,
We'll live down by the sea,
Together for all of eternity.

Someday love,
We'll be away from pestering eyes,
Making a life for you and I.

Someday love,
We'll grow old with our son and daughter,
Joyously watching as they grow.

Someday. . .
Wishing
The presence of the Evergreen

how boldly she stands
commanding only
that we are grateful
for her beauty

how effortlessly she sways
in whispers
making pure
the air we breathe

how tenderly her pyramidal silhouette
fills the surrounding domain
with protection and hope

how humbly she invites
the glow of
sunset's golden embers
to ignite her pine candles
accenting her adorned humility

Ever reminding us
the nature of peace
Ever since I was a little girl
there was an Evergreen across the street
Day by day we watched each other grow
Only in recent years did I realize how she far surpassed me in length
all 50 feet of her
I began to notice at sunset how she would call to me to look at her, though not with words,
but golden hues igniting her branches
like a warm fire scouting out my soul
The peace I felt was like a spiritual awakening
that which only nature could supply

One day someone informed me
they were taking her down
I became grief-stricken over it..
like the loss of a close friend
I've had a longing for her ever since
I have never experienced another tree call to me in that way, though nature continues
to call
✓My favorite weapon
✓Bikini ski boat
✓Fluorescent sand
✓Her eyes immaculate
✓Keys to the prophet's house
✓Emotional screening device
✓1 cup of sun, 3 teaspoons of rain
✓Third world treasure map & saxophone
✓Alternate flightpaths
✓Extra parachute
✓Mediocre Shakespeare
✓Poison pen letters
✓Getaway car & escape route
✓Ladies in waiting (in lingerie)
✓Subterranean lips
✓A pinch of film noir
✓Night vision
✓Antarctic scenarios
✓Fountain of remembrance
✓Policy of containment
✓Silhouette machine
✓Water wings
✓Pillow
~
This forbidden city
walks on water,
keeps all the undesirables at bay,
it's always a balancing act.

Oh, blighted court
of Catherine the Great,
thy friends are having a hard time,
but horsing around, no less.

Enlightened by summer drugs,
and busting out of
their tops and castles,
thongs on thy feet,
and thongs on thy bottoms,
this zenith and this nadir
come in colorful collages,
everything else is a flash of flesh.

Sped along by
frequent bloodletting,
there's a revolution in
thy teenage mind,
a looking for the hidden
and interested motives,
but no one can live
their life on the skis.

Rulership of heart is far
from recreation,
but you raised
a smile to sin,
until all we could do was
shake our heads and laugh.

~
From the 'Checklist Before Commencing on a Dream.'

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4793791/checklist-before-commencing-on-a-dream/
Follow the blueprints
The patterns that match
Dozens of experts
On visceral fat

Cure your sleep
Learn to eat
Push the limits
Get healthy

Don’t grow sedentary
There’s no need to suffer
Eat more protein
Walk after supper

Slow your thoughts
Relax your heart
It’s not so easy
To hit our mark

And finally learn to breathe
Expand your love
Negativity is a fatal drug!!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
~ for the poet by the same name,
Melan,
a name derived from the Greek "melas"
meaning "black" or "dark"~
<>
oft have we warned you, be wary,
every phrase, a provication,
a cribbed script from a message,
a poem, even a pen name, says,
marke me man, the notion of the

Melancholoy of Innocence
a burr buried in my head's bed,
a sleep robber, a pseudo~scholar,
so intriguing this grand challenging
notion...
of the purity of melancholoy's essence


my oldest friend from an early age,
before I knew the word to grasp~capture it,
in my youthful
tristesse grave,
what rendered my soul so vulnerable
to an emotion that had no direct visible cause,
but powered me with a puzzling
strange insight of keen visibilty,
that filtered a glow about all, about what
my eyes saw, my heart felt
...

nearly now, the better part of a century,
I recall the first days of exploration,
of a world, that
dished out equal portions of
ecstasy and misery,
and well taught me the value
of silence
of observation,
and how to record
a memory so that so many, so many decades later,
is crisp with its original fraglity
that overwhelmed way back when
I was but a toddler


a world that was cruel,
a lesson, that came very early,
but made me quiet but not surly,
observant of the human quirks and their potential,
the people surrounding acting in an up dated version
of a Bible Tale
..

where guilt and innocence were precise and clear,
and there was no middling muddle,
to confuse, or be abused,
to obfuscate or obscure


lines of demarcation in black clearly drawn,
so it was soon gone, the innocence,
that was gifted to us all at birth,
and though I mourned its loss,
very quick came the silent thought of
,
well, that's no surprise!

that melancholy matures, extends and distends,
now and then, even shocks,
by the newness of returning old sadness,
and the ceativity of its constant reintroduction,
accompanied by a startled,

well, that's no surprise!

and here the shocker though,
acts of human kindness are not so far and few between,
just perhaps, less well advertised,
so when spotted. self similar words emerge,
even happy shouted
,
well, that's a surprise!
3/29/25
****, I haven't wrote here for a while
But I made it to March
Sunrise, all so bright
A new start for my life
Fresh skin, new eyes
Awake beneath the endless skies

Nature’s beauty, whisper of trees
A fleeting gift upon the breeze

Enjoy it now, it won’t stay
There is sunset that always comes again
Light fades—darkness whispers its place
Symbol of decay comes every day

Still sunrise, no surprise
Leaving lessons deep inside
Remember—change to shine

But still, it sets again
Light fades and dawn returns again
The sun never stay the same
This poem captures the fleeting nature of time and change, using the cycle of the sun as a metaphor for growth, decay, and renewal. It reflects on the inevitability of endings while emphasizing that new beginnings always follow. The message encourages embracing transformation rather than fearing it.
this kids,
is how you do it

in the mid of the dark hours,
when two am is your new oldest friend
when sleep, your oldest old one,
left town on the midnight train,
taking your peace of mind

though she is far away
lost in dream-thoughts caught,
but only twelve inches close,
granting you an unasked permission,
you ok to stroke her hair,
undisturbing her, yet comforting yourself,
every voice in your temple'd altar praying,
one glorious chorus godly chant:

Oh Lord, what would I do without her?

and you stroke her hair and are saved.


2:51am

May 2014
Next page