"tireless" poems
It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers
I was small then
She had a parakeet that landed on my head
and a bathtub too
with water so deep!
and legs and claws!
**** thing nearly chased me down the stairs!
She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks
where bugs hung-out in the haze
of teenage August
I played in the tall weeds
with a shoeless Italian boy
who ate tomatoes like apples
and cucumbers right off the vine!
He was ***** free and foreign!
We played— reckless, abandoned
behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn
and through the endless fields
I didn’t know....
His name was Tony
I ate pizza with him—the first time
At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight
but I could watch night flowers
bloom on wallpaper
She came in to say good night
slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open
and I peeped her *******
like Tony’s cucumbers!
I had never seen my mother’s wonders....
Night spread its wings from the old fan—
a bird of tireless exhaustion
whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage
tireless exhaustion
tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock
stretched out on the whine
of the overland trucks
Route Five through the night of an open window
In the grape arbor below—
tremulous incessant
crickets crickets crickets
tremulous incessant—insides of a child
a summer child
not yet ready for the fall of answers
Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen
I followed her everywhere I could
I was small then--
do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit
I followed Maureen through my dreams
of being sixteen
and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”
while she tied her sneakers
against the mattress by my head
I followed Maureen (in my mind)
tanned and bandanned
to work in the fields of shade tobacco
with all those Puerto Rican boys!
She knew where she was going!
I was small then
...do anything for a stick of gum
“Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”
...through the goldenrod of roadside
through the smell of oil that damped the dust
I followed Maureen’s white shorts
and chestnut hair...to the corner store
I followed the way the boys smiled
the way the screen door slammed
on her bright behind
the way her lips taunted and took
the coke-bottle’s green
I followed Maureen
I swear, I tried for hours to get that right!
Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever”
Maureen ties her sneakers in my face
Flaunts her years above my head
She has that look—
“We kids don’t know nothin”
(Little turds” that we be)
…followin’ Maureen
through the goldenrod of roadside
tic-tockin’, beboppin’
“Fever— in the morning
Fever all through the night….”
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
Step into the sunshine my friend,
let it kiss your face and refine your spirit into a golden bar.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
come out of the shadows of your past,
emerge as a saintly being clothed in angelic white.
Step into the sunshine my friend;
let the great sun inflame your soul
with magnificent grace and transformative power.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
wipe the darkness from your eyes
see what miracles the new day brings.
Believe in all the light you see.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
let radiant beams of love ignite your passions;
your heart will bust forth like an exploding star
washing the galaxy with positive energy.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
receive the fantastic glories the day brings to you
and revel in them all.
Step into the sunshine my friend;
bathe yourself in the warm river of humanity.
Recognize yourself for the first time in its watery mirror.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
witness the delicate flower break through the hard crust of earth,
marvel as its fragrant bud blooms.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
experience the wonder in a child’s face,
let them lead you to the next 10,000 sunrises.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
feel the soft rays touch your wounds;
know how the daylight can heal.
Step into the sunshine my friend,
smell the ocean heave against the climbing sun
listen to the wisps of the meadowland's verdant fragrance.
Step into the sunshine my friend;
see the sparrow take flight toward the light,
watch its tireless wings glide on a blanket of rising thermal air.
Step into the sunshine my friend.
Music Selection: Ramsey Lewis
Sun Goddess
Oakland
122698
jbm
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
Light train chugging, working to outrun
Over exerting, pulling along your freight
Sand is running out under the diminishing sun
Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight
Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions
Weaving between sleeping rocky giants
Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens
Borne of light your cargo load of tenants
Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply
As you power your way through
Defying seconds, before the last rays should die
Against odds, delivering what is due
Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness
Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind
Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices
Nook and crannies that willed me blind
Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance
Through scenic views fraught with treachery
Furiously working to keep your cadence
Hopeful of unloading the load you carry
What lies dormant in that cargo of yours?
What sleeps easy within those boxcars?
What stokes the fire to diligently run your course?
What promises you bear, travelling near and far?
Bales of hope and crates of strength
Supplies of kindness and self-worth
Reside within your immense length
Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth
Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds
Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels
Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds
Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels
Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across
Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky
Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss
Blaring your whistle as you race on by
Propelling forward, horizon up ahead
There it is...in all its tenebrous glory
Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread
Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
She pulled up her shawl and left the house
Gone to get more tea
And all the people passing by
And all the noises eating at her ear
Could not grasp her attention
Attending only to herself
Brilliant and Boisterous her thoughts
A majestic melody of their own
So how could she not be secure?
In her soul’s symphony
The strings vibrated her vessel
The horns heckled her heart
The drums beat down her darkness
And wisdom conducted alongside grace
Matching one another’s pace
Astute in one another’s ache
At conducting timelessly, never being late
It was almost as if their union was fate
Almost being key for it surely did take
Tireless effort, and sacrifices to make
The two into each other’s esteemed mate
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
wondrous words,
shades of colorations,
this pain,
artfully slow, steady stalking,
finale staking into
my hardened heart
with tireless twinges
of loss and constant regret,
painstakingly plinking away,
leaving pockmarks of bullets shot
at the concrete ring-fencing,
failing to protect me from just another,
**oh god not again,
have no mo' time**
for jes one mo' time
love's aftermath regret,
bitter acid wash,
that cleanses nothing,
for you are already nothing
when love loss wrenches/rents your
soul's garments with knotholes of
unfashionable distressed
distress
**better not to have loved,
better, better, better,**
than this battering silent hurricane
invisible thunderstorm internally,
than respects no seasonality,
for which the meteorologists
can predict neither its path or its
final cessation
painstakingly,
did I build my walled shelter,
only to fail-fall to the siege machines
of beauty and desire,
and
once conquered,
with fire and heat,
*they burnt me
from the outward edges inward,
and I am not a
Phoenix*
see the stooped slow white walker
more than dead, yet alive enough
existing to be witness to
his own devouring,
his hands wrapped round
the stake in his chest stuck,
painstakingly
protecting it,
lest its removal
be one more undoing of the
painstaking man
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
XXXI. TO HELIOS (20 lines)
(ll. 1-16) (34) And now, O Muse Calliope, daughter of Zeus, begin
to sing of glowing Helios whom mild-eyed Euryphaessa, the far-
shining one, bare to the Son of Earth and starry Heaven. For
Hyperion wedded glorious Euryphaessa, his own sister, who bare
him lovely children, rosy-armed Eos and rich-tressed Selene and
tireless Helios who is like the deathless gods. As he rides in
his chariot, he shines upon men and deathless gods, and
piercingly he gazes with his eyes from his golden helmet. Bright
rays beam dazzlingly from him, and his bright locks streaming
form the temples of his head gracefully enclose his far-seen
face: a rich, fine-spun garment glows upon his body and flutters
in the wind: and stallions carry him. Then, when he has stayed
his golden-yoked chariot and horses, he rests there upon the
highest point of heaven, until he marvellously drives them down
again through heaven to Ocean.
(ll. 17-19) Hail to you, lord! Freely bestow on me substance
that cheers the heart. And now that I have begun with you, I
will celebrate the race of mortal men half-divine whose deeds the
Muses have showed to mankind.
4.5k
Once I read this quote
about how quiet people
have the loudest minds.
Now,
and only now
do I know what was meant by this.
I sit there while you talk.
Just sit and listen.
A little nod, a silent sound
of consent.
That's all you'll see from me.
Because I'm not a talker.
I'm the one who listens.
Attentively. Tireless.
An open ear
for everyone's problems
musings, thoughts.
And I don't complain
or give advice
I don't argue
or deny
I will just sit there
subtly smiling,
gathering my thoughts
inside my mind
And you are grateful
for that someone
who listens and cares
without judging
But ask me once
on my view, my experience
I will start slowly,
trying to hold back
on all the things unsaid.
tiptoeing around
so as not to drown you
And finally it will overthrow
my discipline
and words, letters, stories
start flowing out my mouth
passing the barriers that
have so long retained them.
And I'm afraid it might easily
crush you
because there's so much within me
that wants to be said
and so very few people ever taken the time
to listen.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry
How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air
Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma
Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation
The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning
Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun
Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take
Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,
The poet will come,
A poem in the New
Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs
The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
stop
be still and listen
hear ye not
that soulful song
of endless motion
that tireless voice
of storm wracked potion
her swollen bosoms'
rising, falling
her shameless
cresting
foam flecked
devotion
pouring out
her effervescence
on lips that drink
her adoration
yet never taste
her vital essence
her drumming chorus
a roaring thunder
on rocky clefts
torn asunder
as mourning rays
of misty raining
her teardrops falling
gently tracing
our loves
our sorrows
engraved each day
on these
mortal paintings
on granite shoulders
her message beats
that pounding drum
of thunderous need
as she flings
her ageless
storm tossed beauty
onto granite arms
etched and fluted
from hollowed cheeks
her kisses pouring
as sea birds cry
on stiff winds soaring
and ever on
throughout the ages
enduring
her ravenous
inclinations
never wincing
from her brazen charms
her surging seduction's
voiceless call
immersed
within her warm caresses
glistening
in her wind tossed tresses
enfolding him
in her flowing graces
in dulcet tones
of annihilation
.
.
http://oi62.tinypic.com/vuya0.jpg
.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
A dozen fellows draped in threadbare tread densely,
Profligating goons in obsidian gowns
gathered under rainbow
moonshine shaking bronze hands,
howling and ****** in the shambles of the moon,
rap'n and nod'n to the notes of midnight.
The mellow marines mourned over malice,
lionizing over lost ones,
many howled venerated, exalted in wonder
in favor of their thrilling grace, and delight,
and brilliance, and might!
but some neighboring sticklers,
behaved haughty and in disdain,
of the crowdy Cavaliers bellowing echoes
signaling out
to the seers of the sea,
singing to the wands overwatching the wedding,
and ravens listened,
roving like noble patrolsmen.
Traveleres and trainees at sea
humble and bright
niave, and frieghtened
in traverse,
volatile and toiling,
tireless,
Lunatics, (laughing, laughing, laughhing,)
Rumaging through rain,
fireciely,
rallying and rableroused,
through towering halls of mohogony,
hefty and wholesome were their hearts
though, beast of the woodsy edifice
were foul and benumb
scowling with contempt,
haste to devide and devised to hindrance.
Hence the heroes heed
to the valleys of rose, and violet,
and strawberry fields of forever,
seeking Saint Nicholas,
in the bustling Byzantium,
in the murky shadows of doubt.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
what if
you took a step back,
saw your life as
the work of art it is,
made beautiful by
tireless perfectionism and
ultimate lack of control,
treasured creations and
unseen shadows,
internal battles and
conflicting thoughts,
all together striking
balance,
contrast,
a wilderness of
human intricacy?
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 12:38 AM UTC
sun, light, murmurs
through slatted edifices
onto restless 4s
they shuffle tireless
ssssn uf fle
those 4s
ever do
on strawlittered floors
t
rapp
-ed
in woodly cages
a 2 enters
pets 4 1
whispers to 4 2
soothes their aches
2 astride 4 1
clumsy gallop
through golden portals
into ****** time
Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 5:48 PM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
perched atop a muddy graze
amongst the reefing centipede
does lady jade a’ponder days
from whence the eldest had decreed.
*"what's this a'fuss upon the breeze
that sings a song of fallen trees?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
was broadening—a shiver, swift—
bespoken of her crown to rest?
what way whereby these spirits lift
that hide should (of the head) contest?
*"what, unbeknownst, should overwhelm
this silv'ry shoat, what's felling elm?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
amidst a cruel cacophony,
the lady seed, she must concede
the razing of her progeny
beholden to appease a need.
*"what's this in want of dire good
that preys upon upholding wood?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
on arbor brawn does ardor dine
does earthen daughter march to meet
as tireless as the vile design
divesting mother's gen'rous teat.
*"what subtleties uproot the heart
as bodies from their souls depart?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace but the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.
O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.
I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;
The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.
It is under the small, dim, summer star.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me—
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.
They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Though two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,—
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.
3.3k
My worst enemy and tireless companion
finally came to my door last night.
As I slept away the time of day
And killed my poor friend Time
He traveled closer to my home.
As I slowly cowered in the face of fear
And realized my mistake too late
As I chose to make a silly choice
He quietly opened the door.
Shame came in but didn't stop
And with every tear that welled up inside
He crawled in hot into my cheeks.
As the salty drops burned away my skin
He then moved on down to my throat
And choked me up till air was gone.
I gagged and shook, begging him to go
Openly admitting my sin
But Shame knew he could do more
And as I watched my world crumble
He eagerly attacked my heart.
As he dripped down to the hearth
He triumphed with his final mutation.
The pain of Shame is nothing
Next to that of his brother Humiliation.
There, in the privacy of my soul
He slaughtered my Pride with a blunted blade
As Sloth cowered in the corner.
When the room was red he finally paused
With a smile on his face at the lesson he left.
As he exited Responsibility came in instead
And from the door watched with sad eyes
Waiting for me to rise and finally apologise.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
I see them in the evening
echolocate after gnats
as they dart and dive for micro-prey
our night sky is alive with bats.
They clear away mosquitoes
never seeming to alight
and make it safer here below
these tireless workers of the night
I am fearful for their future
as we use our toxic sprays
for as we spray mosquitoes
we poison those who call them prey
Still the acrobatics thrill me
in their nightly hunt for gnats
and I hope for many years to come
our nights will be alive with bats
Cori MacNaughton
(July/Aug?) 1999
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
Here neatly side by side these rotted steels
Cancerous rust peeled off paints lay idle
Progress put halt these **** grown wheels
The sad pale ghosts of once was tireless angels
In unknown graveyard of ambulances
There's silence. But whistling birds in a tree
Not like sirens blared heard far distances
Cut through traffic like ships divide the sea
Wings on fire ferrying perilous load
Sick and dying dire need to hospital
Mother's in labour mishap on the road
Saviour of lives young, old and critical
Where mankind employs, mankind destroys
Hollowed vans left to whims like broken toys.
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveler
Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And the shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing. and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what
2.8k
In a revered Tibetan tradition,
I read aloud to my father,
the dead are borne to mountains
and the bodies offered to vultures.
I show him the photographs
of a monk raising an ax,
a corpse chopped into pieces,
a skull crushed with a large rock.
As one we contemplate the birds,
the charnel ground, the bone dust
thick as smoke flying in the wind.
Our dark meditation comforts us.
I ask if he’d like me to carry him—
like a bundle of sticks on my back—
up a mountain road to a high meadow
and feed him to the tireless vultures.
"Yes," he says, raising a crooked finger,
"and remember to wield the ax with love."
2.8k
She is the sweetest
The loveliest
The warmest
The kindest
Person I'll ever know
Who never wavered
In the weirdest
In the craziest
In the wildest
Moods and rotten days
Who holds my hand
In the the darkest
In the scariest
In the toughest
Times I've ever faced.
She dives the deepest
She goes the furthest
She fights the fiercest
Holds out the longest
For her prince and princesses.
That's why she is
The angriest
And the maddest
And the saddest
When I keep settling
For less than best.
She cheers me on
With a smile that is the brightest
With a love so selfless
With support so endless
That never changes
In every rise and every fall
When everything is hopeless
Her faith is the biggest
Still so fearless
Points to the Greatest
Who is the Reason for it all
She cries the hardest
She hurts the deepest
She's the most imperfect
The most human person I know
Still I'm using all the superlatives
Because she deserves the best
She's my mom
And I love her so.
After all the years of service
Your mom deserves a rest
It's her turn to be the princess
And remind her that she's
The sweetest
The kindest
The loveliest
The warmest
The noblest
And that in all these years so tireless
Countless lives were touched and blessed.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
Somewhere someone is going
Without anyone even knowing
Across massive rivers of blood
In the young revolution flood
While the mothers in black hide
Their tears which now have dried
Out of bloodshot sleepless eyes
Across vast open miles and miles
Mothers with their sons throwing
Themselves into the river flowing
And with tireless soldiers of God
All for the long forgotten cause
The blasted and wounded call
They cry for battle but never fall
What is war for widows and mothers
What is freedom for young lovers
There is only endless years of waiting
There is only loneliness and hating
And somewhere someone is going
Without anyone ever knowing
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
Oh Rock! Upon You I build my foothold
Don't let me wander off astray
Tie a knot of a bell on my pleading throat
You who reign over all, King of Old!
Seasick and half dead from the flooding dangers of my vanity
Help! I'm getting ****** down-dry, a slice of my deadly miry pie
You're hand not too short to lend me life anew and of serenity
Oh Endless! Awakened from a dire sleep
I come before Your tireless feet
Bathe in springs of abundant grace
'Til my hands grow tireless toiling the earth for the shade of Your face
Time may move its hands of tricks and deceit
Stagnant pool of smirking clocks
Right before I accept defeat
Stay my hand with everlasting wings
Oh Steadfast! Aiming towards love with eyes so true
To You who deserves where all praise due is due
You look through me, creepy candy coating
Embraced with arms everlasting
Love of which knows no cease
One desire of which heals all disease
Dogs lie await to be fed by the crumbs of You, Purest.
Show me great and mighty things thy mind hast not knowest
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
~~
Then it became a blue afternoon
while came to evening
They were the realities of her farewell
Glowed in the dark blue,
what an abstract shadow cast!
Floating Autumn Clouds,
away the red hibiscus grew gray
heard a vague weird tune
Then one morning
Along with a purple flower
red hibiscus saw inset
and the dark chorus of a clay oven
covered her face
away in the loft several gourd hanging
walking,
walking down the way
at the end,
stood beneath a banyan tree
Doors opened in the silence
southern wind followed
to move in the room
randomized the bed cover,
poetry books,
morning news paper
while closed the door
opened the northern windows
The tireless long night
while I left the room,
wandering as the lonely clouds
went through the garden
where the sky came down
wanted to say life
walked on foot
A long sleepless night
saw the stars fairs
heard a vague weird tune
At that April's night,
Caught the sight of
dry dropping leaves
The smell of gardenia
to bring me the new ideas
of poetry
touched the sky
wandering on a raft of clouds
filled with
see you decided to
Then it all went down together
in the dark with blue
anyhow a golden sun bought
a yellow day
and all the red flamboyant trees
singing
while standing beside
the two sides of the road
with the wind in breath,
my dying
And instead of go with them
mingled the ways of life is changed
when the ways rolled along a curve
One January morning's mist
coming off the sun on the dew
I liked to walk barefoot
in the soft sun
with a woolen blanket covering
At noon,
the river flowing
with streaming sound
took flock a small Sampan
toward upstream
uprising mind grew cool
with stream
Today is just going to get lost
beyond the horizon
Feel to see back,
Slowly known nature
grew small with time,
after some times
shadows mingled
with a dark space
While came the night
Footprints remain in the dust
of shadows
after millions of years
to become fossils
In the mind and
In the deep heart of
the Milky Way
Her fade face is still
to come and go
Over time,
in terms of conservation
of energy
Again when I opened the window
At a long sleepless night
Saw the stars fairs
Heard a vague weird tune
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
When a mountain
I dare not climb
the ropes and tackles
are in abundance
In great shape
my body and mind
Not a weak link
in the expedition
But when a mountain
I dare to climb
the ropes and tackles
are often misplaced
Out of shape
my body and mind
Weakness as a
spell does bind
Hopes and dreams
of tireless youth can
be all but forgotten
in the spiritually aged
Strength the glittering
cloak of youth can
fade in weakening
jaded resolve
But in me common
traits dissolve
The bucking steed
will never be tamed
Pigeon-holed the
misfortune of other
souls has not been
allowed by my resolve
But this determination
is not without cost
The foothills of youth
are far removed
by erosion caused by
unstable belief systems
washed away into
the Sea of Ambiguity
A distant mountain
I often see
(distance the deceiver
of proportion)
Challenged at the foot
of the formidable sight
halfway climbing
only to slip and fall
Does this mountain
need to be climbed
Do youthful dreams
need to be fulfilled
When these dreams
are all you ever had
you wake up falling
or climbing higher
Driven by dreams
and gifts and talents
that rage like a river
in the driest desert
calling home what
must come home
holding on to what
must be fulfilled
Obstacles that have
become landmarks
seem to fade
into obscurity
like threats that
always remain empty
laughing at what
used to bring tears
I remain standing
through all these trials
not unscathed
and a bit weather beaten
halfway up another
formidable mountain
making up for lost time
from a major fall.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 4:34 PM UTC