"juvenility" poems
The one job I loved
You took away from me
I shouldn't give you that power
But you've got me on my knee
Now every day is monotony
The light so far away
The amount the pain weighs
Trying to breath everyday
But water filling my lungs as I say
"This can't be the way"
I can't see a resolution
Sitting through electrocution
Of your words and your apology
I can see through the psychology
Lack of personal responsibility
You're pure juvenility
"I want to be friends"
But seeing your mistake gives you the bends
You can't have it both ways
That's the phrase that pays
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:18 PM UTC
curious child
peering from the bedroom door
half open
standing in the shadows
i watched him
he sat in his easy chair
right elbow propped
cigarette placed between index and middle finger
light from the tv flickering off the walls
smoke snaking its way to the ceiling
my Father
in his sixties then
lost in the vapid juvenility of Hee Haw
my Father
whose poetry i had discovered
tucked away
out of sight
out of mind
this little black book where he kept his soul
waiting
if he ever decided to find himself again
or perhaps to just remind himself
in the early stages of alzheimers
i saw him cry for the first time
wondering aloud
why after struggling for so many years
he was rewarded with a failing mind
and the loss of a friend
a friend left behind in a black book
a friend i never knew
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
I look into the mirror and I am surprised to see
That I don't recognize the woman who looks back at me
There are no red highlights in her long blond hair
In it's place gray has taken root there
Skin that was once flushed with juvenility
Now is wrinkled and shows signs of antiquity
Eyes that were once bright and keen
Now look faded from the years they've seen
This can't be my reflection that I see
This old woman who's looking back at me
I can't have aged this many years
I'm not as old as this woman appears
Then I start thinking of the days gone by
And feel the tears pick my eyes
Growing up with in a family who loves me still
Going to school filling the bill
Dating and meeting the man I'd wed
Remembering the vows that we said
Being blessed with a new life to raise
Oh how young I was in those days
The years flew by as I reminisced
Remembering each milestone, the turns and twists
I looked at my reflection again and seen
A wise and mature woman looking back at me
A sad smile forms on my lips
As I slowly come to grips
That the years have caught up with me
And the price I pay is my vanity
Still, I wouldn't trade the wrinkles or one gray hair
For I've enjoyed the life that has gotten me here
Now I look forward instead of looking at the past
No waisting time, it goes by too fast
Blessed with a daughter and two grandsons who love me
I'm proud to be called Mom and "Grammy"
Yes, time has taken it's toll
But I still know how to rock and roll
So with each new day I'll dance and sing
To life's music and the gift's it brings
I give my thanks to the Lord and Lady above
For the years I've seen and all the love
L. A. Anglin
Copyright © 2014
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
Feel too young to live,
Stuck in all of my old ideas:
On the very seasides-
Wait on time to change its tide.
Its long line of spray-
All the good moments are-
Quiet subtle whispers:
As the worst of them all,
Are a grating roar.
Begin, and cease,
The tides have grown full:
Everything now draws back;
As I feel like a lost pebble,
Without its own direction:
Tremulous, is man's misery;
In their shoreless ocean,
Waiting on the sand, shivering in cold.
Only the brave try-
To swim to the- Ends of eternity,
As children feeling so bold.
Perhaps that time I was bored,
Wondering what's next to come?
Timeless, is life when you're lost-
In all your childish dreams.
With the aroma salts,
Hair lost in the breeze;
I feel so joyously lost at Sea.
Deep, quiet, and alone;
Young, bright, fair, and free:
Only when, it was the younger me.
The ocean's body-
Is a thousand tears,
Of the Earth's greatest guilt:
Pulling me away from dreams;
As her and I are both Blue.
Awful spirits of the deep,
Once took my happiness -
And returned to me filth:
Still at the time, of my youth.
For youth is, so cruel.
But what are we to do,
To only hope we make it through?
Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 6:27 PM UTC
I was shown the world through a creative lens,
One where superpowers were real
And laughter was endless
Somewhere between the innocence and experience,
Life happened
The hero's began to fall
The sun forgot to rise
Soon, imaginations were misused
Actions misguided,
Though faint memories of juvenility remain--
The undeniable feeling of believing in something amazing
Of something beautiful
And I remember,
For a fraction of a second, I remember what it feels like to be free
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 10:23 PM UTC
I am still living in juvenility;
Why? Is it a psychic calamity?
Or that hidden reason,
The bird who symbolizes spring season?
Don't you believe in reason of bird?
Do you think I am a drunkard?
Really it's a drug addiction;
Power of Love, electronic fusion.
This feeling never lessens or ends,
An eternal Love for that egoistic mind bends.
Darling? Blue bird? What I call?
Why colorful mind wants a blue pal?
Come on bird, let's swim in water,
How long will I be submitted to void matter?
Come come, let's be blended into one entity,
And catch a fancy deer out of rude reality.
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 12:25 AM UTC
girls in lithe dresses
still in photographs
they hurt like daggers—
being this young
hurts like a dagger, too as
their eyes divine something
in me,
or their hurtling way of being so
ineffably in place
and i, placeless,
skin flushed hot
like receiving a multitude of tongues,
this juvenility,
everything around me is lissomeness
just— tryingly closing my eyes
hoping to be awakened by the roaring
of blood in vein,
put to sleep by a lapidary brush
of hum: a delicate soft-petalled song
but i am a child
lost in a field
of various flowers.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
when i was 14
i saw the dancing children
like stars in the night
bleakening
and how horrid
that memory was
sitting
repeating
in my head
and every time
i look to the universe
a spike of hate
poisons me
3 am
yelling to a child
whom taunts like the devil
you ruined me i scream
you ruined yourself it screams back
like a rag-doll
it pulls me
until I am ripped into pieces
unknowing of
who the child is
the child grapples onto me
nails dug deep
red marks blistering
it whispers,
you won’t let me go
as a deep laugh roars from within it
the child no longer a child
but a daemon
who took over what was once innocent.
a realization
hits me.
creation
a result of the destruction
of the mind,
a play of words.
what cannot be fixed with fingers and tools,
but with patience and everlasting love
acceptance,
forgiveness.
the demon lets go
creating a lightness,
soothing within
kicking and screaming
it hits at the back of my head
but I pay it no mind
hand in hand with the child it smiles
waving its goodbyes
n.b
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Strapped and bound to the wall
a game of ******* and chains, as
solitude light casts shadows
on an abomination's remains,
I gaze into the mirror on the wall
my troubled face pasty as sour milk
and the laughing glass laughs, taunting
from beneath a surface as smooth as silk
for within its nether-twine frame
thy carbon copy mimics my reflection
spun from a festering web of sorrow,
and tainted by prolific perfection
the accusations of people that have been cast
through my estranged blood it runs,
for bending both ways is despicable
and to do so I might as well kiss their loaded guns
and as I stare at my sorry reflection
I see juvenility, excitement and confusion
daggers of shame piercing my eyes,
the skin around blackening from their intrusion, and pathetic lies
oh yes change is strange
and as humans we naturally fear
but love is such a word now often unheard
causing the laughing glass to leer
and now when I look at myself
I don't see who I truly am,
that, beyond their cackles and conniving remarks,
I am actually so much more than -
I see a stranger, a ****** a mistaken queer,
the number one prestigious freak -
but from the shadows I will rise
and from my heart I will finally speak.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
Let’s jaunt to the golden time of childhood
when days were blithe, life was colorful
peers were guileless, words were sweet
simple was the life, above all worries
juvenility brought its own jiff
which turned into teen with eye blink
yen of being adult started vanishing
As the real face of life revealed
clay castles that were made in nursery
perished with the wind of bleakness
worldly needs displaced naive wants
bitterness took place of sweet words
the Wisdom of youth is vital too
perks of being conscious have their value
still miss that innocence of good days
whose charms are lost in this whirl.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 2:11 AM UTC
My conscious mind has sudden feeling of my origin,
From in the midst of my soul as if in my juvenility,
Impaired appendages on my lost exploring odyssey,
Luminous like the troposphere of a mere cerebrum,
Embrace me warmly in your arms remove my anguish,
As we can cling to the desire we once had no addendum,
Aggregate the wall of shadow draw back beyond my desires,
In the depths sphere of your soul and clutched in your arms,
I abjure you come and take me from this place contain me,
How difficult and inebriated how tensed and ardent I walked,
The sense of coalesce hope that contrived me to my beloved,
Whisper your words of comfort as you pellicle away my pain,
Alas matron with tenderness so humbling endearing to me,
Nimbly brief my craving was to her as apple blossoms wane,
Momentous instance of imperishable matter between our souls
Will profound pare be rigid for matron I will see no more?
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/12/2019 ©
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC