"beamingly" poems
When the wasting embers redden the chimney-breast,
And Life’s bare pathway looms like a desert track to me,
And from hall and parlour the living have gone to their rest,
My perished people who housed them here come back to me.
They come and seat them around in their mouldy places,
Now and then bending towards me a glance of wistfulness,
A strange upbraiding smile upon all their faces,
And in the bearing of each a passive tristfulness.
‘Do you uphold me, lingering and languishing here,
A pale late plant of your once strong stock?’ I say to them;
‘A thinker of crooked thoughts upon Life in the sere,
An on That which consigns men to night after showing the day to them?’
‘—O let be the Wherefore! We fevered our years not thus:
Take of Life what it grants, without question!’ they answer me seemingly.
‘Enjoy, suffer, wait: spread the table here freely like us,
And, satisfied, placid, unfretting, watch Time away beamingly!’
1.2k
***Our songs sing to each other
every morning, noon and night,
bringing beauty and love into life
so perfect and so right.
The sweetest of our melodies
loving and oh so kind,
playing throughout our histories
since our dawn of time.
That special kind of love
going beyond our final days,
unconditional and pure of heart
enchanting in every way.
Our melodies have played on
as fate allowed us time to grow,
preparing us for the most beautiful love
that our hearts beamingly glow.
~***
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC
i have let my life pass
me by without asking for a
stop.
the bus —
crowded with hardened men
crying, helpless children
laughing, graceful women
drifting — doesn’t
stop.
every light glimmers by—green—
illuminating my path to growth,
but my red hair
red blood
red heart
ignite the invite to
stop.
so i pull the cord
i interrupt the glares
i stumble out of the bustling confusion
i light onto solid ground
and i, beamingly,
ask myself if this is a
stop
or
a start
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 6:41 PM UTC
Seated at the candle-lit dinner table my
aural senses distracted by musicians neglect
the biographic monologue of the diner before me.
Feet impulsively impose their rhythmic behaviour
timidly beating the floor, improvised drums
silenced whilst nonchalantly looking elsewhere,
artless reaction to captivating tunes, pretending
self-possession as vibrations slowly softly gently creep
along my spine, flowing through veins and nerves
altering heartrate unable to make believe interest
in words unheard any longer, finely tuning to meld
when my head ineluctably yields to sway inviting,
the rest of my body and him to follow. ‘Stand up!’
I interrupt rolling shoulders beamingly gazing
into his eyes, eager to be swung, swirling hips
outpouring sensuality, his and mine getting closer
until hands meet each other’s skin enticing and
though everything is warmer shivers swiftly cloud
my shutting eyes, dizziness inebriating movement
entranced, pleasantly losing consciousness
into his arms with a final Do.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 5:36 AM UTC
He's so free of cares
the sun observes him for tips
to shine a bit brighter
He's so beamingly audacious
the meek and fearful
are bold in his presence
He's so blissfully calm
some praise his stark ignorance
as a virtue to behold
Then one day he was gone
People starting worshiping the sun
and made his ignorance
the state's religion
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 11:16 PM UTC
a multi-toned beauty
that shifts in color
depending on how the lights hit it
a stunning glitter
that shines beamingly
whatever the case,
you stand up.
you are shining.
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC