"restfully" poems
My mind is always working,
Down-times are so few.
Now I sit with idle time,
Wondering what to do.
There are so many, many, things,
I have put off for so long,
I should just get up and start them,
Before many more come along.
But yet I feel that I deserve,
Sometime to just restfully be.
And lounge right through this quiet day,
Where my time feels totally free.
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 7:38 AM UTC
I sat restfully on a green park bench next to a gray-haired stranger. He was a tall black man
in his 70's I supposed. He read my predictable
thought and said 76 to be exacted! We went on
to talk for an hour or more, but to me, it felt more
like an unforgettable lifetime.
We share so much of our personal life with one
another and for whatever reason, I am not sure,
but I considered him a friend and not foe.
We were comfortable until he asked me the taboo question. why would anyone
want to **** themselves?
I give him the best answer that anyone can, but with another question of course. I asked him why
not, aren't we are all just primary casualties.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
There is this sacred place nearby
And few years past I acquired
A few acres from that sacred place
deep in the woods
Most would call the wilderness
but home to me
So magical of a place
my mind’s eyes disappearance...
Deep In abyss of the mountains
Peace and quiet exactly
What my soul needed
my spirit and heart at peace here
So whenever
peace tries to escape my mind
You could always
find me there, lurking there
Setting up my mind free
and just like a dream I belong
So amazing and sacred
even the greatest artist
could never captured its allure
Perfect place
for a poetic mind to dwell
The sounds of wind blowing
the birds singing
and
the wonderful
sounds of the river caressing
the Rocky Mountains
so peacefully restfully soothing
put my trouble mind at ease...
The Rocky Mountains stone
truly a sacred place to me
nothing but love
what a place of ecstasy
strikingly when night falls
being way off the grid
In the endless darkness of night
lightning bugs Lanterns my paths
away from the restless tango
of the bright lights
city noises
and a venue divided by loathing
Here in abyss of the mountains
I am at one with nature
enjoying all God’s creatures
Scrutinizing the wild tango and crawling in
the thickest bushy mountain
while relaxing my back
on my grass quilt
at the Same time cooling my feet
In the creek near the fire
a seeing flare
to keep my soul warm
and with no other care in mind
I allow my mind soul to roam free
In the sacred garden of ecstasy
to escape the here and now
No doubt such beauty
of a place can restore a mental calm
when my feet are on fire
faith cracks peace is no more
and nowhere else to run
Here by the red rock creek
my wilderness Momma
is where I’ll doze.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
Heart songs don’t come easily,
For they breach internal depths unseen.
Loving honestly,
A concept that can’t be placed.
Faux lives to live,
Faux dreams to chase.
I had dreams once,
But they’re so far away.
And I don’t know how to forsake
My dreams.
Run,
Or you will be my next decay.
A heart song is hardly pure harmony.
It thrives on tragedy, chaos, and anarchy.
It wakes up just to daily be killed.
When the soul is distressed,
The heart song is thrilled.
Blood in its name has been spilled.
Because of it,
Rest is so far away.
When rest comes, I’ll sleep,
And I’ll stay,
And I’ll claim,
I’m not ok,
That’s not how I feel.
I’m seconds too late.
I guess that’s just my deal.
I’d be afraid,
If I knew how to feel.
You’ll rue all my days.
For if I’m to survive,
From heart songs I steal.
Heart songs lay me down,
And let me down.
I just crave to sleep
Restfully now.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
It's a journey of a leaf
that fell from a tree!
Plummetted restfully
lying on the ground
Atlast, it's free!
Whoosh! Going somewhere,
up an down, left and right
Adhered everywhere.
People step on it,
back and forth, south to north
It's been a dream
but a cruel world it seems
A nigthmare, so dim.
Wishing to come back home
but there's no turning back
Lost it's track.
A whirl of wind
took it where it belongs
It just have to be strong,
and a thought of
good things will come along.
-A
8/15/14
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
I could still recall how gently I held your seed
and brought you to your bed.
There a drop of sweat from this forehead
joyously mingled with some grains of your soil.
I lay you there and saw the approval of the sun
as he sent his warmth reflected on your cheerful coating.
You lay down restfully on your life bed
And I dreamed…
You rose with your sturdy trunk
so robust with pride that your neighboring flagpole
felt intimated by your presence.
They sang him hymns
they bowed at him with their hearts
while you humbly stood there
swaying your greens, reaching atop, conquering the scorches of your sun
so that they, underneath remain unharmed, unscorched, unsoaked.
Soon you bore velvety fruits that the young munched as well as the old
On lazy days you gave them games of soccers and boomerangs,
and tennis, and catches and fetches.
On moonlights, you appeared to be a violinist
as the lovers kissed under your warm company.
You were the silent listener to the broken hearts
when you offered your comforting barks as a shoulder
till they cried and wept
till they breathed and smiled once again.
You had a way with humans who slouch under your shade
You hummed serenades that only your chirping friends
and fluttering colorflies hear and together
you created an orchestra harmonizing songs of friendship, of peace, of love.
I saw you arise and write down histories on to your memory—
how you tried to reach for the graduates’ caps in the air,
how spirited you applauded for great speeches on that podium
but no one ever noticed.
I saw you sway your branches gracefully as the marching band went
boom-boom, tug-tug, and kling-klang.
It was your favorite part of the day.
So many times you bore witness to silly fights
of the young and the old too,
but most often you saw these creatures
make peace at dusk.
There I saw you in eternity.
There I saw you to be forever standing tall on your life bed.
Then I heard the hellish rumble of their chainsaw,
the shrill reverberation piercing through this feeble core
as they ruthlessly cut your body.
I could not afford to watch you being slain.
You are my life.
Your death is my death.
Jun 2, 2023
Jun 2, 2023 at 10:20 AM UTC
You're here now, breathing next to me restfully,
though not totally asleep.
It's the light from the computer,
the tapping of my fingertips on the tiny buttons which house the letters that create the words that are undoubtedly keeping you awake.
I'm glad, though, that you take me this way and understand that I'm a
late game hitter,
A surprise second-string pitcher
-sports analogies, aren't men supposed to understand those? When written correctly, I suppose, and I gotta tell you, I hopeless with sports -
But it's nice for me to have you here,
your warmth and ambient sleepy noise
and dreamland shifting of this arm or that leg,
the habitual fumble known only to boys
who might be unconsciously uncomfortable.
I wonder what you dream about. If I could reach inside, would I find out?
So instead, you get a poem tonight.
You get my true attention without knowing that my heart lies in these words more solemnly than the suspension of time between sleeping and wakefulness.
No, those holy hours pale to the gusts and the gales that create the storm that inspires the fingers
to tip tap away
and create the pathway for my brain to follow
and find the doorway that leads to that hollow space inside.
That elusive candle that hides the dark.
You'll never know, but you are my spark.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
*Her Heart forever is lost in beauty
as her muse spun celestial grace
among the flowers her beauty out shown
all that once stood unshaken is now her love song
that will inflame her destiny as it is written...
Head bowed among her lovely thoughts
where the light of love adds fuel to the fire
should she hold the new world in her heart
as she lends her spirt restfully
as the mortal in her stretches with a flair....
La ragazza e la Musa, the girl and her muse
sing a mighty tune, in her words of a veil form
that her spirit lives as her colors breathe ...*
Debbie Brooks 2014
https://soundcloud.com/kerstin-centervall/la-ragazza-e-la-musa
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
i never view it the same.
it's just quiet.
i simply closed my eyes.
and wait to feel what he makes me feel.
forbidden lust.
an act of sin.
a betrayal of a old friend,
a good ******
he penetrates,
then sends me ascending to hell.
a
w
i
l
d
r
i
d
e.
without any stops.
but i can't get enough.
it
e
a
t
s
at my brain.
and i'm
uns
t
a
b
l
e.
During dinner, his hand restfully lays on my thigh, caressing me back & forth.
my body itches and warms up to his touch against my skin.
At the slightest touch of his hand toying with me,
i disintegrated.
my mind is fixated at his contact.
he plays with me underneath the family table.
as the evening progresses, they continue their conversation.
my r his r
i & i
n n
g g
weights down on our respectfully spoken matrimonial status.
leaving us with the wrath of guilt.
Each time, we swear
it'll be the last time.
but we're both liars of the conscious mind.
we come back to it, giving in
falling in deep
trapping ourselves more into the further.
we are consumed by each other.
i want more then what is given....
this is the affair of a forbidden couple.....
to be continued.....
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 11:55 PM UTC
A youthful and reasonably innocent being approached me the other day.
With eyes about as blue as yours he gazed in to mine.
Uncomfortable, I thought, for nobody had stared in to my eyes with such annoyance but you. But then again, one could step in to a desert and I'd examine their soles only to say that they reminded me of your feet. You left these marks that I just…
(When your body departed, it left with the only scent of home I had so restfully settled with. Then the following scent I was about to settle with was the cheapest liquor my dealer could offer me for the time being. All I see is you. When the last drop in the drained glass is consumed I think of you. And it occurs to me that maybe you didn’t drain me, but I drained you. You left these marks that I just…)
Anyway, Hanna, about this particular boy... He insisted I tell him what heartbreak was like and he needed me to be straight with him.
And don’t sugarcoat it, he whispered.
Only a fool would unjustly measure intelligence by age, he added.
Well, kid, I said to him.
Had you been in my height, I'd punch your ribs in to the point of breakage so your lungs would puncture.
He then, at that minute decided what he had endured at that point was not as severe as what I had described. It was just an insignificant slip-up with his lady.
Now, you... Just get the **** back home. I’m out of air, and you’re in control of my oxygen tank.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 7:40 PM UTC
Pray today death don’t stand next to me
Don’t place that on my worst enemy
But enemy watch how you address me
I’ll disrespect you respectfully
Don’t ever try to play with my worth
Or these holy hands will replace your legacy
Put your attitude to bed restfully
Give your demeanor a new remedy
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 1:38 AM UTC
As I sit there in
the hospital chair,
I glance at her and
whisper to myself
“This is not fair.”
I pray for her
but I know she’ll be taken away,
when she restfully lays.
I cry myself to sleep
because all I can think of is her..
I tell my close friends
but it seems like they don’t care,
I feel so alone because no one seems to understands.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
fingers to lips, I press tightly
Eyes close restfully
Inhaling deeply
familiar routine
missing something.
What I breathe
is not dirtied with soot
only frigid air
turned hot steam
near the back of my throat.
I miss the sensation,
Though not the flavor
And this partial craving
Is far easier to stave away
Far easier to keep nostalgia at bay.
1.15.2017
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
Tis the day of walking dead
Zombie look at me
Look at me
Do I appear to be
Among the living
It may seem that way
Going about my business
Greeting the day
In a polite conversational way
If you look closely you will see
That I see
What I see
Means nothing to me
That I hear
What I hear
Means nothing to me
Such is the mind of the walking dead
Scooped out meaningness
A hollow and vacant cadaver
A brown paper wrapper
I gaze out the window
A little red bird, restfully
Perched on a chain link fence, then
What non-thought moves you
Branch to unsteady branch
Are their other little red birds nearby
With which, with whom you can fly
Please tell me why
For I am lost to my flock
My concrete view is filtered
Through shades of green and gray
Is that gray with an e or an a
Never mind
While motion stills my mind
Cars of steel fly by
Framing the sill
Leaving thought things behind
Tis the day of the walking dead
The dead don’t try
They just die
And keep walking
Unshakable and unbreakable
Perhaps numbing death
Leaving behind
The unkind
Tendencies
Of one kind or another
Perhaps one of many
Perhaps painful
Perhaps slow and steady
A prayer and a song
You’re wrong
My breathing is shallow
Thoughts keep repeating themselves
Synaptic electric mantras
Chemical fueled and fused
Electra orchestra
Shades of Zarathustra
(ok, forget it
you don’t mean it
ok, you meant it
eat mush for breakfast every single day
day after boring day
eat mush today because
you ate mush yesterday
and the day before
and the day before
the day before
mush, mush, mush
such maudlin sentiments
stirred up my resentment
because
well I happen to love mush
you really must
will you please
save some mush
for me
because I happen to love mush
the way I do
and understand it
the way I do
and can’t stand it
the way I do
that your mush is not for me
and I’m seeing red
but it’s not a bird
and it’s not perched peacefully
on a fence)
That you have made room for mush
Is so sweet
So sensible
For someone else
So, crybaby
You were somewhere in the woods
Crouched down
Behind yourself
Standing
I waved to yourself standing
To move
Then threw a ticking clock at your head
Crouching down
No symbolism intended
I meant it to hurt
And hope that it did
So you can be among the walking DEAD.
Then I woke up
So satisfied
What's wrong with me?
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
Rewinding your vn
Impatient to call
Waiting for your return
Can't restfully sleep at all ..
#Yazilines
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 8:07 PM UTC
i think
the beds in heaven
will be the same
shade of tender pink
as the peonies
you surprised
my restlessly happy heart
with tonight.
and when i lie down
in the beds of heaven,
i think
my restfully blissful heart
will crave
my sweeter,
softer,
earthly gift.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 8:51 AM UTC