"simic" poems
Maturity©
What is maturity?
Is it knowing that tomorrow will be a better day?
Is it having made all the mistakes until there are no more to be made,
Is it sitting in front of a computer playing games with your inner child and it being okay?
Is it a sense of knowing that the world is unfolding as it is meant to be.
Maturity is defined as development,
Is this the development of the human body?
Is this the development of intellectual matter or
Is this the development of human potential?
Is this the development of a spiritual knowing or connection?
How is maturity obtained?
Do we grow up to be mature?
Are we taught and learn to become mature,
Do we obtain maturity through experience?
Or does age provide an automatic pass to maturity.
Is maturity that stage where all is lost?
Or is maturity when the world is our oyster,
Or when there is an inner knowing of ourselves,
Or is it when we achieve all of our goals and dreams,
Or is it when we have figured out the world around us.
Maturity, let me know what it looks when you find yours,
I seem to have misplaced mine.
Andreas Simic©
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 7:14 AM UTC
once you take that first step down the path
the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back
now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting
right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction
time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass
beholden to no one it has its own destiny
for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy
setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger
unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow
their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike
wishing to smite those that have broken her heart
there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed
bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles
a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation
is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness
it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable
step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down
the walled fortress now a corral with no escape
and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting
a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared
her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed
utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun
how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another
now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly
she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword
I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire
so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here
all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not
Andreas Simic©
Apr 30, 2022
Apr 30, 2022 at 8:50 PM UTC
I am awoken from a restful sleep aware of the fresh air
the open window brings as she begins to sing
it is the sound of the loon calling me to her side
I stride towards the beckoning sound and her shore
as the door swings open to a new dawn and a rising sun
the early morning mist departing to reveal her beauty
she is glass like this day, stillness the allure
her stillness belies her truth that she can be rough enough
as I stand beside her admiring the horizon she willingly displays
my ears are attune to her lapping sounds, my heart calm
launching my canoe I begin to paddle amidst her blueness
each stroke like the combing of her hair with twirls and curls
today she allows me to glide with ease yet she can also be a tease
the gentle breeze now professed can transform into a mighty storm
it is within her grace that she allows me this place of serenity
for she could as easily sweep off my serendipity with a rough sea
sounds of gulls take my eyes upwards into the clear blue sky
watching them soar all the while jealous of their ability for flight
a honking sound now has me looking to my right to catch sight
of a gaggle of geese in mid-flight her back their launching pad
and without warning there’s a splash as a fish leaps into the air
in search of its morning dish of insect and bugs, as it dives
back into the water, its sanctuary, its home I am reminded again
of her kindness that she provides in sheltering bays
her gentle waves taking me on a journey into the depths
of this lake they call Placid
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:16 AM UTC
*Before the fall rains come,
Let’s have one more picnic,
Now that the leaves are turning color
And the grass is still green in places.
– by Charles Simic*
A hot day brings the summer alcohol
Out of hiding.
Surrounded,
Each ice cube vanishes into my glass,
Like children running from the year’s last
class,
Mingling with the ***
I relish laying
My hand on your naked chest
In the August sun,
Before the fall rains come.
Layered with a glaze of sweat
Neither yours nor mine but both,
My eyelids slide like honey
Over my quiet eyes,
Relaxing my thighs,
Daydreaming of earlier, when
You said to me
In the same tone as one with
Only a couple pages left in his comic,
“Let’s have one more picnic.”
Tomorrow, I’ll pack a basket
With some entertaining food:
Whipped cream, chocolate strawberries.
Under your tongue they’ll disappear
From here, here, and here.
(It’s duller
Without them.)
I’ll be excited looking around at
The land in a riot of multicolour,
Now that the leaves are turning colour.
But I’ll realize it isn’t you
Specifically;
Just that you were there, and I was there.
And we’ll realize we’re in love, however,
You or I could be whoever.
Gazing at each other, still with good graces
And moderate tolerance we’ll think,
“The sky is partially blue,
There are half-smiles on our faces,
And the grass is still green in places.”
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 8:15 PM UTC
The Balancing Act©
It is as though I am constantly in a balancing act
I envy those that seemingly do not go through
This process of weighing things in my mind
Those like poker players that can go “all in”
Shove their chips into the middle of the table
As if there wasn’t even a fore thought involved
No, my mind has to go through “the process”
Is this a good decision or bad
What will be the consequences
Why am I doing this
What are the odds of something bad happening
How will the results affect my life
I look at the homeless who wander my streets
Judgment floods my mind
But is there jealousy at the heart of it
Is theirs a conscious choice
To have no bosses, no one to account to
Are they free from the balancing act
What of the daredevils that navigate Niagara falls
Who leap to peril do they juggle their decision
Or is there absolute clarity of the mind
Pros and cons
Ins and outs
Good or bad
Happy or sad
Mad or glad
The balancing act
Andreas Simic©
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 6:32 AM UTC
You were in the rear view mirror of my life
That one chance encounter to last a lifetime
What a wonderful day it was
Frolicking about the pool two strangers in a foreign land
The ocean waves beckoning us to foray into unknown territory
Sea urchins, star fish, and shells waiting for us to join them in dance
The heat of the day matching the rising temperatures in my heart
Overhead the sun baking our skin like a toaster set on high
Glances were exchanged but only for a moment
For any lasting looks into those deep brown eyes and…
All clean fun our laughter speaking for itself
Until the setting sun and a waiting plane ticket ended it all
Back home my thoughts would return to that day and you
Though I knew the city you lived in I didn’t know your name
Or the street you resided on but the memories remained
Like a haunting which would not go away, a ghost only imagined
On that rare occasion passing through your town
A watchful eye for the woman who now held my heart hostage
But it was for not, the years multiplying like an adding machine
Days would fade into night but not thoughts of you
Of that moment in the sun when all felt perfect
And then…it happened
A twist of fate
A phone call from a friend
A dinner
A date
And everlasting love
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:05 AM UTC
Hide and Seek
Charles Simic, 1938
Haven’t found anyone
From the old gang.
They must be still in hiding,
Holding their breaths
And trying not to laugh.
Our street is down on its luck
With windows broken
Where on summer nights
One heard couples arguing,
Or saw them dancing to the radio.
The redhead we were
All in love with,
Who sat on the fire escape,
Smoking late into the night,
Must be in hiding too.
The skinny boy
On crutches
Who always carried a book,
May not have
Gotten very far.
Darkness comes early
This time of year
Making it hard
To recognize familiar faces
In those of strangers.
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
Word Association 101©
Today’s word is G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E
Select the option you like best as there is no real solution,
and this isn't a real test
So take a position, if it is not an imposition
after all this is nothing but fiction, not a prediction
Leave your hesitation and caution at the door
and put the pedal to the floor
So without procrastination or introduction move trepidation
to elation
Take the plunge it’s not a leap,
for someone here will say throw this on a heap
It may be taken with affection or rejection and
probably needs correction
But onward we go for somehow I must make this flow
Tick the right box if there is such a thing or give it your best fling
If you can’t think of anything
Gratitude is...
Satisfaction___
Appreciation___
Creation___
Gratitude isn’t...
Crude___
Lewd___
Or attitude___
Gratitude leads to...
Fascination___
Imagination___
Intimate relations___
Gratitude may bring...
Evolution___
Re-action___
Hug action___
Gratitude is for...
A job well done___
A rising sun___
That special someone___
Gratitude, let’s start a revolution that leads to emotion
and maybe to a promotion
Gratitude, life’s gift that keeps on giving
and a premonition in addition
Gratitude, for brothers and sisters and others too, pass it along for all to share because we really do care
Andreas Simic©
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC
Wave of Emotion©
Where doth it begin, this wave that cometh over me
That leaves me at times in great overwhelm
Unable to respond
Frozen in time and space
It seems as though one day the seas of my mind are calm
All is well at the helm of life
Clear sailing as it were
But underneath...
Like an undertow or undercurrent
Swells are forming that will one day reveal themselves
Maybe it starts like a ripple on a body of water
Building up steam
Hence I do not know that which is coming
Lurking, slowly building up
Underneath the tranquility
Waiting to erupt or burst forth
If one were able to see the tides shifting
Maybe one could get a sense of the impending storm brewing
Something like a light keeper
Warning Captains of impending ill wind
But alas it is not so
The waves come rolling in
On an unsuspecting shoreline
Crashing unto its midst
Growing stronger from some unseen source
Wreaking havoc and intensifying as it goes
The storm unleashed with great impotence
Inflicting the desired impact
The groundswell of emotion now set free
Erupts in its various forms, anger and disgust
Fear and sadness arise sometimes
Disguised as surprise and happiness
This co-mingling of human outlets
Can plunge us into the depths of despair
Into the caverns of our vessel and sink us
To depths undiscovered and fraught with danger
Yet like all hurricanes above the waterline
They too shall weaken, wear themselves out
And over time they lose power
Once again we will feel like we are in control
Calmness is the order of the day; after all
We are “emotional beings” living through a human existence.
And it is so and
So it is.
Andreas Simic©
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
Like thousands of soldiers in parachutes
they come out of the winter sky
One by one hitting the pavement
to claim victory for the season now unfolding
At first they are vanquished almost instantly
a price paid for those leading the charge
However as they begin to accumulate and cluster
a formidable foe is being created
Inch by inch, foot by foot, a fortress is being built
one that can be transformed into an igloo for shelter if needed
Soon the landscape will be covered by a heavy white blanket
left unattended it will run amok overwhelming all
As plummeting temperatures assault those not ready
once open lakes and river pathways no longer escape routes
A battering ram of inclement weather hampering travel
imprisoning those caught unaware of its fury
Snow drifts form obstructing passageways
entrapping those not prepared with an escape route
Waiting out the enemy a defensive strategy now in use
As it surrounds you on all sides building an oppressing presence
High winds and frostbite commingling in the air
that will dominate at the end of the day
Beauty or beast
The conflict yet to be decided.
Andreas Simic ©
Apr 23, 2022
Apr 23, 2022 at 7:19 AM UTC
Like water falling over a crest
A swift rapid descent into a black hole
The paradox known as my life
Disguised as a pseudonym plunging
Ever deeper into a swirling
Of emotions into depths unknown
Cascading over cliffs at ever greater speed
Feeling out of control
Coalescing into a bottomless pit
The sheerness of the sides
Ever sharper the deeper I fall
Leaving no way out
Holding my breath
For the inevitable free fall
Into a chasm of darkness
Is this my destiny or fate
Or just another nightmare among many
That I will endure
Until...
Andreas Simic©
Jun 18, 2022
Jun 18, 2022 at 8:49 AM UTC
I used to think this a term for athletes
Late in their careers
Past their prime
Yet I sit here now
Looking at the pill dispenser
Filled to the brim each day
Not long ago I didn’t even own one
Until the litany of trials and tribulations began
A never ending trail to doctors
Blood and ***** tests,
CT scan, then MRI, followed by
an endoscopy and an Ultrasound
Now four separate ailments identified
The fifth without a diagnosis
Stealth, planning an untimed attack
No grandparents, parents, uncles left
A dear high school friend gone at an early age
My buddy for many years departed
Now this
My youngest brother passing
Far before his time
A two week cold or flu sapping my energy
Then some bug decides to invade
So I curtail eating, on mostly fluids now
I feel weak
And exhausted
And washed up
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:24 AM UTC
Missing You!©
When I am here, I miss being there
When I am there, I miss being here
When I am in solitude, I miss companionship
When I have companionship, I miss solitude
When I am single, I miss being in relationship
When I am in relationship, I miss being single
When I am working, I miss not working
When I am not working, I miss working
When I am in the city, I miss the countryside
When I am in the countryside, I miss the city
When it is winter and it is cold, I miss the summer
When it is summer and too hot, I miss the winter
When I am on the prairies, I miss the mountains
When I am in the mountains, I miss the prairies
When I am on the rim of the Grand Canyon,
I miss being at the bottom
When I am at the bottom of the Grand Canyon,
I miss the rim,
When I am on the ocean, I miss dry land
When I am on dry land, I miss the ocean
When I am flying, I miss the ground
When I am on the ground, I miss flying
When I am on the east coast, I miss the west coast
When I am on the west coast, I miss the east coast
Maybe what I am missing is the point of it all
Andreas Simic©
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 7:10 AM UTC
First the diagnosis
Then the prognosis
Indeed it is cirrhosis
Alongside the cancer
Is the answer
They will no longer be a dancer
First comes shock
At no longer being a chip off the old block
Wanting to throw a rock
It just can’t be they are too young
Why has it spread to the lung
Will these be the last words rung
I want to ring its neck
But we need all hands on deck
So emotions are kept in check
Then sadness comes along
Oh this is so wrong
They want us to be strong
All leading to depression
And many a session
Even a confession
Can’t they be given another chance
Couldn’t there be a different circumstance
But in the end we all end up at acceptance
The five stages of grief
In a brief
Poem is my belief
Andreas Simic ©
Feb 4, 2022
Feb 4, 2022 at 8:43 AM UTC
You are like a magician
your hands working in stealth-like fashion
revealing little about who you are
finger prints of time have passed you by
as you honed your talents and skills
to manipulate people’s minds
so that they believe they are in control
all the while you hold the strings like
on a puppet or character named Pinocchio
obscuring or twisting the truth as you meld
our hearts and dreams into nightmares
providing dark thrills to your repertoire
while making victims of the audience
who attend these spectacles you readily compose
to entrap those weak of soul
and so it starts like someone under hypnosis
pliant to your every command
unaware of your intentions
until it is too late
Andreas Simic©
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 6:45 AM UTC
Simic almost starved to death waiting for the
man who told him "our goose is cooked".
I folded my napkin in preporation. And
remembered what my grandma told me:
"We never starved in belfast".
But now everyones arived in one piece.
Hoping their goose was cooked.
We waited and waited. Two more
guests sat down. One said " Is our goose
cooked yet"? No not yet!
Finally a fed up patron
arose from his seat.
He had to of been eighty nine.
Listen he yelled:
Have fun!
Do what ever needs to be done.
Before all of your geese are cooked!
***** waiting for it.
Theres nothing we can do to change the circumstance.
Believe me Im getting the first serving, I can already smell
the aroma.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
oscillating back and forth
head tilting from leeward and windward
an abstract puzzling my imperial gaze
a Van Gogh in waiting
perchance a reflection illuminated
in broad mesmerizing strokes
some tantalizing insightfulness
else a superficial escapade
do the color menageries
stray my mindfulness or hold attention
each vivid hue enlightenment
to soothe & provide enrichment
is my inspiration desperation
to find meaning in the simpleton
gravitating and debating
between beauty and gargoyles
does incredulous creativity scare me
or woo me into submissiveness
the artist plying servitude
into mine cavernous cavities
Alan Scales’ exhibit of
Turquoise Abstract Landscape II
provides fodder for my mind
to exponentially explode
Andreas Simic©
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 10:58 PM UTC
Passing Through
We are like two sailing ships
Passing through a narrow canal
Veteran captains standing on our decks
We nod heads to each other
In acknowledgement as if to say
Congratulations on a job well done
The sails of our boats once taut now sag
A sign of the relics we have become
In our hey day
We were the top of our class
The envy of the fleet
Known for speed and cunningness
The scourge of the open seas
Few willing to take us on in a battle of the minds
Feared in competition
Avoided where possible
But alas like all things in life
There is decline and decay awaiting us
When you know the time has come
For navigating into the sunset for safe harbor
All that is left is to idle away time
Sitting on the sandy shore until...
Andreas Simic©
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 9:28 AM UTC
Dear Suicide
You were like my unwanted bride
Left in the rear view mirror of life
Your existence no longer a daily strife
Every once in a while
Returning as if on trial
I’m no longer waiting to end it all
Appreciating each and every “fall”
Your clutch no longer around my throat
Myself having constructed a deep enough moat
For years you were a constant companion
Now left behind with much abandon
You had me convinced I was not good enough
That my life was rough and too tough
Though I miss the mind games played
Freedom from fear has away stayed
As I appreciate each day one at a time
My life is now much more like a poetry rhyme
So don’t come back with your useless thoughts
I’m not looking for any new plots
Farewell I say unto you
You are no longer my glue
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:07 AM UTC
Everyone would call her a hero
Carrying yet another soon to be orphaned child to safety
Leading group after group destined for destruction
Down the railway track of hope
Fighting not only the threat of death
But nature’s cold frigid grasp
Her own safety in the balance every time
She returned over and over again
Man, woman or child equally saved
The risks were great the reward greater
In a time and age of war
With no regards to race, color or creed
Cruelty unbound
She plodded on
Exhaustion filling the mind with thoughts of giving up
Yet her drive and spirit refused to cave in
Each trip meant more would live
How could she stop now
One day when all was said and done
Would they remember her or her deeds
It didn’t matter because this was about them
She knew the way
And would light the path
To a life which would grow and flourish
Her reward the look of relief on their faces
When they realized they had made it to the end of the line
Freedom was waiting
Andreas Simic©
Jun 11, 2022
Jun 11, 2022 at 9:57 PM UTC
Are the Five Alive©
Can you see it through...
The fog
The smog
The mist
Can you smell it through...
The fear
The odors
The stench
Can you hear it through...
The noise
The racket
The chatter
Can you taste it through...
The spices
The flavors
The bland
Can you touch it through...
The pain
The sorrow
The concessions
If you’ve made it this far through
The gauntlet known as life
Take a bow for you are alive with the big five
Sight, smell, hearing, taste and feel are for real
Andreas Simic©
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 6:15 AM UTC
Lined up like soldiers
you stand tall and straight at attention
like them you guard humanity
by providing for us
through your shade and ever presence
sometimes in your dress of leaves
other times dormant, asleep but not
though no matter the season or the reason
whether as a heat source or inspiration
as a haven for insects or resting place for birds
the livelihood for a wood pecker or mushrooms
you’re there waiting to fulfill your destiny
Despite man’s insatiable hunger
to mow you down like blades of grass
yet it is the oxygen you provide
which allows us to live another day
the irony of it all
even for the tall
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 6:57 AM UTC
Tick tock goes the clock
Sometimes fast sometimes slow
Especially Fridays ergo
With great anticipation
The game begins
When it hits five everyone wins
Until then our minds tend to wander
In that moment of reckoning
The weekend beckoning
Of the things to explore
When we head out that door
Having just finished our last chore
Will it be fun to enjoy
Or entertainment to employ
Either way jumping with joy
There’s that sense of freedom
Coming to our life
Leaving behind work strife
A big smile or a grin
Coming my way
No more din for this day
A few beers to quench my thirst
Sleeping in is the option first
Time with my honey never a curse
Leaping children in mine arms
The substitute for alarms
Bringing their delights and charms
Andreas Simic©
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
Smitten©
If I was a kitten
Maybe I wouldn’t be so smitten
It’s as though I’ve been bitten
There is no chance
Of romance
Maybe under a different circumstance
Though it seems she was heaven sent
And I feel an urge to relent
It would likely lead me to repent
Don’t know why the attraction
Am I looking for some sort of satisfaction
Help me Lord to inaction
For I know not why there is this thing
Leading me to ponder a fling
Knowing it will only grief bring
Yet there it is this temptation
Is it there as some sort of revelation
Providing a piece of education
But alas with all my will
I bring a chill
To that part of me seeking a thrill
Andreas Simic©
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC
lunching on kimchi
spilt it on poetry
doubt that
simic is happy
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 8:18 AM UTC