"dawns" poems
Love is universal migraine,
A bright stain on the vision
Blotting out reason.
Symptoms of true love
Are leanness, jealousy,
Laggard dawns;
Are omens and nightmares -
Listening for a knock,
Waiting for a sign:
For a touch of her fingers
In a darkened room,
For a searching look.
Take courage, lover!
Could you endure such pain
At any hand but hers?
19.5k
I look at myself and all I see is grey
I try so hard to pray it away
I know it's cliche
But I can't stand my own face
It's sad eyes
They see through my lies
My oversized thighs
My failure to revise
I despite this disguise
I look at myself and all I see is disappointment
Try harder I mumbled in exhaustion
What a collision
My own derision
One day, soon, I will look at myself and all I will see is joy
My reflection, I will enjoy not want to destroy
I will not be coy
As the sun dawns
All will be gone I vowed
I look at myself today and all I see is hope
For I am proud
I want to scream it loud in crowd
I am proud of me and you
And with that statement I feel so new.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
The evening breeze sings the forgotten songs
Of ghosts of nymphs 'tween silver birches there.
And beams of moonlight fall on grassy lawns:
A pearly cloak e'erywhere the eye sees fair.
So many gentle dawns took care to kiss
Along the flowered, verdant forest floor.
In this blessed land so filled with matchless bliss,
Upon golden and rose-pink blossoms which it wore.
Every visitor that stumbles here
Stops to see the flowers near,
And stoops to pick some strawberries
In the meadows, for their families.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
The beauty of patience is in letting the sun
rise when it rises and shutting our eyes
when the dusk dawns believing the secrets
of life will come in the wake amidst the
crowing of the roosters.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
*The early sun dawns
Light spreads out on land below
Good morning beautiful*
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:58 PM UTC
It is when the rain
Begins to pour
And night dawns
That I get this craving
To write poetry
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
her rigorous objections
are herded slowly down the sheep trail
by studious pencil thin men with stylish mustache's
who have deep pocket pickers for friends
they gather round the weak willed and the willing alike
looking for cheap thrills and spare change
everybody needs a new road
when the old one seems to never end
but she with eyes cast down
mumbles her unappeased desires
as she shuffles a little closer to the truth as she sees it
she has it all written out in secret languages
she has books filled with life's coded thoughts as she see's them
barn burners and dare devils grace the cover of her latest creation
self titled to her own romantic name
she is stylized in her own way
so she adores the pencil thin men
with their dashing devil may care good looks
i wrote her a letter yesterday
full of stories from the great highway
full of chipper go getters and the glum go gotten
she is a forever stone on a necklace
she is a moonstone on a bracelet
she is graceful when it counts and
thats more than enough for me
the pencil thin moustache men
come to conquer the all night diners
in the small shoreline towns
but slink away in dawns first light
with stolen smiles and borrowed kisses
that they promise profusely to return tomorrow
but never do
such is the romantic night by her side
such is the wonder-wheel days of our
journey on the great highway
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
There is an image
Working to free my mind
From violent dawns
It probes at the backs of my eyes
It tells me I am prostituting myself
Here in my bedroom
In incestuous union with myself
I hallucinate and fantasise about
Doctors sons, butchers boys
Teenage thieves, deserters
Drug pushers, scandalous rent boys
Vagrants, pimps, prostitutes
And silk lingerie and don't care.
I sit destitute of thought
An insonce dissonance of macabre music
Playing out melodies of an image in my mind
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
My wolf howls,
In pain.
I am unloved,
By the rain.
Content to be imperfect,
To the wilds I run.
I only wish to be alone.
May my time come.
Painful memories,
Curse thy Wolf and I.
I feel like a child,
Who sits in the corner and cries.
May I howl,
Until the daylight dawns..
My kin,
I only wish to cry..
Alone...
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Oh, how the new day dawns
In lavender hues of beautiful.
Tired eyes renewed by the splendor.
As it stretches to peer over the horizon,
The sun grins Good Morning.
As I bid Good Night
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 8:57 PM UTC
Sometimes
I play a finger
along the cheek
of your face
in the photo of you,
my son,
imagining it's real
and you are here,
my dear.
Sometimes I think
I see you,
go along the passage
as you used to do
before your death;
but there's no one there
when I look again,
just the pain.
Sometimes I feel
your finger running
down my spine
with a gentle touch,
as if you say:
I'm here, just a little
out of reach,
out of your sight,
but I'm all right.
Sometimes I feel
a tightening of my throat,
at the mentioning
of your name,
or tears well up
in my eyes,
or I choke up
when it dawns
on me
you're no longer
here beside me,
or if you are,
I cannot see.
Sometimes
I feel a hole
in my heart,
and the blood of grief
seeps through;
miss you, son;
no more
I can say or do.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
imagine you're standing at the edge of a beach, looking into the water. it's a beautiful beach, the best you've ever been to.
the water is pure, the sand is soft.
and it's all yours, this wonderful beach. as you're standing there, you see a tsunami approaching.
you can't believe it, this tsunami is about to tear apart your
sacred beach, and you with it.
you yell, you scream, you think of everything possible to try and stop this tsunami from coming, but on it rages.
it reaches you and you're immediately knocked off your feet, drowning in the mad water.
it pushes and pulls you in a million different directions
and you choke on its waves.
do you fight?
of course you do. this is your beach.
the tsunami has no right to be here.
you'll be strong and fight until this tsunami goes away. and so you do. you kick and you swim and you keep your head above water and finally,
your feet reach the ground again.
miraculously, when you look around, your beach is still intact.
the sand is still soft at the touch,
and the water is the purest of blues again.
but you're barely able to catch your breath for a second before you see in the distance another tsunami headed towards you and your wonderful beach.
you can't believe it.
again its waves swallow you and you're not as strong as you were when the first tsunami hit.
do you fight?
of course you do.
..right?
it's harder to keep your head above water this time,
and the waves pull you under until you're at your breaking point.
you don't know which way is up or down,
and when you reach the ground again,
this time it's your knees that touch the soft sand,
not your feet.
you're shaken. a little weak, but otherwise okay.
you get to your feet, look out into the water, and your heart stops. another tsunami headed your way...
you're not sure you're going to make it as the 8th tsunami
takes its turn on you.
you've been underwater for minutes and you can feel the last of your oxygen being used up.
it's your instinct to fight, but how much more can you really give?
your body is weak and your mind isn't far behind.
do you fight?
do you fight for your beach?
you think of its perfection and it dawns on you that no one in their right mind would give up a beach like that.
so you should fight.
shouldn't you?
you don't know anymore.
is it worth it?
the beauty of the beach is matched by the terror of the tsunamis.
it's not possible for you to have one without the other.
you don't have to make your decision this time,
because as your still deciding,
you feel your back rest upon the warm, soft sand.
you're lying down and you don't even have the energy
to lift your head up.
but you hear it.
you hear the terrifying tsunami racing towards you.
i hear the terrifying tsunami racing towards me.
do i brace myself for the fight?
do i stand up and face this tsunami head on?
do i keep still and accept defeat?
will i let the water rush over me and stop fighting?
..what would you do if it were you?
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
There was a time I saw...
The beckoning stars,
in your eyes, juvenescent.
Like beacons from afar.
There was a time I felt...
The burn of your lips.
The rush of crazed blood
that held in tight grips.
There was a time I inhaled...
your intoxicating scent.
Inciting cardiac somersaults
in a time long spent.
There was a time I thought...
We would last forever
through the last of grains.
Hourglass doomed to shatter.
There was a time I knew...
That nothing could ever alter,
same tune we have hummed,
words we've carved in each other.
There was a time I dreamt...
Of floating in your seas.
Your vast body enveloping,
drowning out my insecurities.
There was a time I worried...
for your dreams of grandeur.
When you spoke of seeking,
the dream of life much better.
There was a time I died...
When you had packed and gone.
Leaving only the broken
promises and empty dawns.
There was a time I hoped...
That sooner you'd be back.
Standing at my door,
beside you, your travel laden sack.
But now you're back...
The pain gnaws in greater bites.
The stars, they twinkle no longer
they were killed by the city lights.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
As winter dawns,
United they come,
All at once
Coating the ground
With a perfect layer
Of feathery icing sugar.
Tickling our necks
As they swirl around us
They flutter in the wind
Like graceful butterflies
Thrilled to be free at last.
A simple exterior,
But as we dig deeper
We discover
That on the inside it seems,
Like a spider has woven in each one
The most intricate of patterns
All unique individuals
Different and proud
Like dust from the stars
They glisten in the moonlight
fragile diamonds
That melt at your touch
Thus we can say,
That snowflakes are,
A symbol of purity
Like innocent childlren
To be destroyed by reality.
They put us to sleep,
Singing hushed melodies
As they pass by
Like floating feathers,
Following the wind
In our eyelashes
When we blink
Serene and untouched
Falling from the heavens
God’s children
Blessing the earth.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
I will rise,
Rise to paradise again
Spread my wings, free from any chain,
With only one goal in my eyes I look to the sky
Then I rise, yes I will rise
From the hellfire, no matter the price
May I burn
Take my turn
But then it will surely be my time to shine
The beauty of the heavens will surely be mine
I will not stand these flames,
Embrace my devilish distorted wings
See what good that may brings
One last judgement
On this long lasting journey
I will rise, rise, no matter the price
A future dawns dream, draws near
Make it clear
In this realm of art and devilry
Heartfelt dream scapes shape the mirror
In a world so dark that the stars will blind-
Refuse to fall!
Forgotten by both Heaven and Hell
A craft of hearts forms my kingdom!
Take my hand, all ye pariah souls-
The love of light is for all to bear!
~ Umi
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
once more
layers of casing
are torn
papers culled
windows gleam
sheets smile
the cost is high
if not see
when to stop
can I find north
after all
I’d asked
so life’s paths
once veiled
in yesterday's grime
dispatched
to the winds
reveal
another vision
refreshing as
spring rain
seeking every fissure
quietly lodged boarders
not paying rent
evicted
as another corner
begs mastery
along with
a neater place
it dawns on me
atrophy
is the order
of things
vacate for a few
short paces
and face
it all again
wrenching me
from the lulling
status quo
of my stilted
blindness
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
An ode seems appropriate
To the classical style
Of the columns and the domes
Above the green court.
Many things have adorned that dome:
Squad car, fire truck, droid, and phone
But today, viewed in a mind's eye—sunlight.
But as were that phone booth still apparent
From afar it now calls, and now I shall answer.
Over the river, and through the urban jungle,
Through the sky, 400 miles, as the airliner flies
But worth every inch, rod, meter or smoot.
It beckons to the mind and to the heart;
It beckons to the soul of a scholar.
Were I less knowing I might think not
That light fell from above onto that dome.
But rather, that the hemisphere
Gave forth the blazing light
ebullience of photons, amidst
Torrents of knowledge.
Its hallowed halls, numbered precisely,
Soon no longer a forbidden temple shall be
Instead, I shall tread there, such as I am
Learn from efforts I effect and others I see
O Halls, I shall greet thee, O Tunnels in winter
Traverse and find warmth to keep body to task
For knowledge, always, comes with a high price
In joules, dollars, cents, days and hours of rest
Long nights turn to dawns, nose to the grindstone
Maybe just one more tool; okay, maybe another.
But brother meets brother, and sister meets sister
On both sides of the river, and the work gets done.
Whether Greek or not, there is community here
A problem, or a set of them, is always seen through.
As the sun now rises, a new day sets in. In a few
hours of my life I will rise to these challenges.
With a chirping, I shall cross the paths that I come to,
Enter the halls .. and my journey shall begin.
~ D. B. Guy
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
*eking out the ultimate gasp in my last breath of impulsion
i collapse without a touch of grace at race's end
how i made it i will never know
dazed and in bewilderment
i reminisce upon my journey
an aggregation of barricades assailed me
with iniquitous decadent delight
seeming to writhe in triumph at my possible demise
capitulating as it devoured and spewed me out the other side
i humbly reassembled fragments of my near annihilation
temporarily rehabilitated
i recommenced the toilsome climb
to the treasured peak atop the mount
when in would come the tempest with its furor
and render me asunder
mere exhaustion is not the word
for death experienced recurrently
ground to mulch and back again
screaming, pleading, surrendering
proved futile as i newly met the same demise
near incapacitation i miraculously emerged
and scraping pulled myself with broken heart and bones
scratching my way through the darkness
toppling at the pinnacle
to victory's end
with exhilaration it dawns on me
the long dark night is over
i passed the test to realize
it is not the finish line
but only the beginning
©2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
Pomegranate dawn, lay me down
Ivory moon, call to me
See that I may never touch the ground
Float me by on symphonies
Leave me in the haze, the cool of day
Wake me in awe on summer nights
Chase demons away with all your shades
Make darkness flee in the moonight
Keeping dream and dreamer both alive
Silently fading away
Ivory painted moon seizing my nights
Pomegranate dawns embrace my day
Sky studded with stars, burning now
Jay's egg blue painted morn
Falling to my face, dust on my brow
Waiting days ache to be born
Never will I again cry alone
Ever still will you carry me
Seeking just to rest in a place called home
Cabins by the crashing sea
Risen in the day to warm sunlight
Rocked to sleep by sheets of eve
As the ivory moon bid me, sleep tight
And pomegranate dawn awakens me...
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 3:57 PM UTC
As darkness fall, the veil thin,
The year is drawing nigh.
Shadows lengthen, gather strength,
The year is drawing nigh.
The dead they stir, and look around,
The year is drawing nigh.
Tonight they walk, tonight they dine,
The year is drawing nigh.
The sinks down, she’s dying now,
The year is drawing nigh.
Beneath the hills, the dying sun,
The year is drawing nigh.
Hollow hills, they open wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Faerie folk, the mighty dead,
The year is drawing nigh.
Samhain’s fires, burning bright,
The year is drawing nigh.
To dance around, in death’s embrace,
The year is drawing nigh.
Ancestors dead, some long gone,
The year is drawing nigh.
We tip a glass, we place a plate,
The year is drawing nigh.
Death stands up, tonight he reigns,
The year is drawing nigh.
In darkness strong, the dying year,
The year is drawing nigh.
The revelers grow deathly quiet,
The year is drawing nigh.
All knees bend and all tongue stilled,
The year is drawing nigh.
For Death takes all and all will come,
The year is drawing nigh.
The Gates of Death, they open wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
His face you meet, at Death’s great doors,
The year is drawing nigh.
A friend, a judge, a lover, a blade,
The year is drawing nigh.
His embrace is sweet, but deathly cold,
The year is drawing nigh.
In love he strips you, bone from bone,
The year is drawing nigh.
Nothing left, you pass beyond,
The year is drawing nigh.
The veil it parts, the doors swing wide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Your last strong breath, last ******
The year is drawing nigh.
And through you go, to what’s beyond,
The year is drawing nigh.
But Death’s great doors and Life’s fair doors,
The year is drawing nigh.
What’s dead and gone, will be reborn,
The year is drawing nigh.
A new breath breathed, a new day dawns,
The year is drawing nigh.
Death to Life, he takes your hand,
The year is drawing nigh.
All is gone, but all in new,
The year is drawing nigh.
The new dawn’s sun, in the east,
The year is drawing nigh.
The cold it flees, the shadows hide,
The year is drawing nigh.
Dark Samhain’s night to new year’s light,
The year is drawing nigh.
What was dead has come again.
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 2:01 PM UTC
On the edge, took in
Flood created angst and pain;
Enlightenment dawns!
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
Astonished at the plethora of cars outside my casket, I try to get up. But, I'm held down by chains. It's so bright through the little cracks in The casket that I have to squint my eyes.
The sunRays ask me, "are you ready for this ride?"
I'm pinned down, hell bound. All these gifts decorated around me and on top of me signify that I'm decaying.
I am the epitome of the hearts grief. Since day one I was infected by your leave. Theres a honk, then A crash. Caused by the distraction of me being buried. Theres a hole in the window, theres a girl in the seat and there's a screech.
"Wait for me girl!" I scream. I scramble to get free. Get me out of here. Where's the rescue for her soul? The wreckage burdens me. As people flea my scene, I see backs turn from me.
Just a bit overheated, i awake from this peculiar dream. Also me in the parking lot, with the key, foot on brake, rumbled and shakes to start for a drive.
It then dawns on me; I'm going to my own funeral.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 5:00 AM UTC
*In the frost garbed winter all I could notice was her
While delicately she let the tea fall into the cup
Her spell binding beauty magically won me over
Roaring oceans in her eyes
The sun bathes in them to
Birth dawns to embellish her skies
I noticed over the cup of tea
Spring sprouted alive in her smile
Fuchsia gave away on her cheeks
She tames seasons in her own style
I noticed over another cup of tea
Winds matted her hair with wild lilies
Her every step like favours on carpeted heavens
She commanded every breath in the stone alleys
I noticed over the cups of tea*....
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
It's not the warmth of your touch that makes me cringe
It's the underlying intimacy of it all
The dormant passion that lies beneath your fingertips
And it's not loving you that gives my bones goosebumps
It's the silkiness of your voice when you first utter sentimentality
And the flash of disappointment that dawns upon your face when I don't immediately regurgitate your emotions
But everyone I've ever known had to learn to crawl before they could walk
So would you mind terribly if I just held your hand for now?
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
Seasons I know, are not too high and not too low,
Just like the rain, the sun and the snow.
Seasons are green, seasons are blue,
But never do we know when they pass by you.
Some are bright while some are dark,
But some are just close to our heart.
There are seasons of love, and seasons of hate,
Seasons of joy, but all this god creates.
Seasons will come; seasons will go,
Just like passengers in a train that we don’t know.
Seasons are different seasons are unique
Just like some people who come our dreams.
Seasons are two and sometimes four,
But love once happened will happen no more.
Beaches are the spot when summer comes along,
Our beds make our crib when winter dawns.
Autumn is yellow, when leaves fall low
Down on earth making the roads all glow.
Spring is new, blooming and bright
There are flowers and fruits and much far off sight.
These are, seasons I know, seasons I see, seasons I feel, touch and breathe.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC