"yesterdays" poems
On flat bank’s where
grass runt reeds grow
waiting for rising tide,
A lone Heron stealths silently
while Gulls cry warning, and dive in to a cold sea air.
Phoenix Peanut and Pandora
stranded on wet mud bank,
wait for their chance to escape
but it’s bonds that need to be severed in their quest for freedom.
Estuary lights dim and flicker in the distance while closer to shore Mermaids sing on the breath of a storm.
Beckoning sailors "come ride the waves"
Siren songs of lost souls and shadows
“Come with us” on this bursting sea.
And they sing with a drowning charm
as fishermen launch vessels under a shawl covered wife's watchful eye.
And yesterdays widows weep, face rained bright from navigational lights.
Ships bell ring in time with a rollicking sea,
Pheonix Peanut and Pandora
still await their escape but not this night.
While the Heron has long fled this great swell.
No cries now from gulls nor mothers hurrying their little ones to the safety of their coal fired warm homes.
Just the rage of wave riding mermaids that will have their bounty
the heart and souls from a fisherman life.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
Im cold
no one knows me
not even myself
Im tired of living with no self-help
Oh hell
Oh well
Guess this fights over
i hear the ringing of a bell
In time
in my own eyes im blind
cant seem to find
my way out of this mess
so much stress
just to impress
Impress who you ask
Matter fact
i dont know that
but all these suicidal tendencies
Someone put an end to me
I feel like i should be quoting Macbeth's final solilquoy
Life is but a wandering shadow
Goes nowhere
like i care
And all our yesterdays have lighted
fools the way to dusty death
Now stop it for a minute
let me catch my breath
Foe his final line
so i may go in depth
Life is told by an idiot
full of events
signifying nothing
so why repent
and now i truly question
can time be well spent?
Just let me lament
Few good times
adn many bad
all sad
i start to get mad
I start thinking
even if i did look
on the brightside id probably go blind
no lie
i bought a suit to meet god
so let me straighten the tie
my final words to you
goodbye
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
they say shes waiting for me
beautifully
they say that shes there
with loves tender embrace
with loves intimate kiss
softly waiting for the mad rush of my day to end
waiting for me to come home to her arms
but for now i'm just a tinker
down by the ***** river
lost in the back roads and shadows
dragging behind a fat sack of yesterdays
building better dreams for all the pretty people
filled with longings and desires
but ill make it home to her someday
where she lay in the peaceful moonlight
where she waits for me beautifully
filled with such tender desire
with loves intimate kiss
ill be there in her arms
home at long last
never to leave again
she is all iv dreamt of
she is waiting....
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
I am a paper boat floating down a
Stream, imagination made me from
Yesterdays sport page, read now
Turned in to this boat floating down
This stream.
Calm waters as I float as I pass a fisherman
On the shore, a hat over his eyes as he
Is sleeping not much biting as no fish
In this river that I can see.
I pass a pub only slightly damp as the
Stones thrown by those drinking at the
Shore, I hear a pint to sinks the boat,
But to tipsy are they to throw straight
Lucky for me.
I float bobbing up an down, a fold slips
And up a sail shoots me forward at speed.
But the faster I go the more splashing on
Me. I get wetter down the stream and
I start to unfold more, till there is no boat
Just soggy news paper floating down the
Stream.
It was fun being a boat, as I wash up on
The side of the river, I was once part of a
Tree then a news paper, I became a boat
With imagination, what will I be used for,
Or we I decompose be one with the
Earth I will have to wait and see.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
you dwell in my sight like yesterdays
your voice is a melody upon my mind
your gaze snows upon my heart
melting me each moment
is your warmth, so unknown rather forgotten
i had turned into a rock long back
you swell in my heart like a dear wish
your smile streams in my blood like some drug
your touch still tickles deep into my skin
freezing me every once in a while
are your memories, so indestructible in form
i had no refuge to survive by, otherwise
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 8:25 AM UTC
Left behind
Disgarded and broken
Quickly forgotten
Yesterdays favourite
Was called cool, funny and honest
Good quailities, i thought
Months of hardwork
Brick by brick
I thought
Building a strong friendship
It hurts, a differant hurt than i am use to
Unknown to me
I really care
Was proud to know you
No longer
Curse the day we met
You used me
Now kicked to the ground
Bruised and hurt
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 9:46 AM UTC
the aroma of the dead and dying
lingers heavy in my bed,
yesterdays shirt and tomorrows hate draped across a chair like falling flowers,
like the ones on my desk, picked
with joy and anger, but that has long since faded and wilted,
giving way to the dead and dying, like me,
wrapped tight in blankets,
clinging to the tiny voice of mother, on the other end of the phone,
repeating the refrain, the chorus, homage to the homesick,
"Everything will be all right, with time."
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
That sweet scent wafted in the warm breeze
the moment before we met.
From then on my life was changed
love came with your perfume.
Each of my emotions in hyper drive
until then not alive.
Your perfume was so intoxicating
a doting slave I became.
One direction to achieve your attention
passion drew me under it's spell.
This energy and intensity could not last
one day a shadow was cast!
I became yesterdays man brushed away
when somebody else was snared.
Like me the perfume pulled them within
my heart shattered as I watched.
Another laying prostrate at your feet
no way could I take defeat.
Jealousy never far from the passion of love
not caring when I sighted you.
Unable to control my basic human instincts
attacking forcibly my rival.
Feeling betrayed and the only one hurt
soon my body would hit the dirt!
Standing here a noose around my neck
guilty of deeply loving you!
Even as the trap door beneath me is released
the perfume will linger always.
Never regretting that deep emotional ride
you will be with me inside!
Love and jealousy unceasing like your perfume!
The Foureyed poet.
Jun 26, 2011
Jun 26, 2011 at 2:53 AM UTC
the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation
I would not remember you
or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these
and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops
a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight
8.4k
our morning coffee
our books
our music
~ our silence ~
your arms around me
the warmth
your eyes
your smile
~ the light ~
my joy
our yesterdays
and
tomorrows
♥
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Dreams crafted
in
useless yesterdays
and
empty tomorrows
Cracks spackled
with
makeup and tears
Porcelain facade
found
profoundly
... beautiful
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Balcony Life:
Sometimes I just watched outside, and it was a glorious day.
Children actually played. Groups sunbathed and basked in beer
Ice-cream vans were heard not far from here
Above a plane heading somewhere etched its mark
traced in nothing but just plain blue sky,
for miles, as far as the eyes could see.
Up the motorway, the sun ignites on speeding sunroofs
Toward the Campsie Fells set in a haze of bottle green
The white trickle of yesterdays snow cut like some dyslexic ancient symbol
A place for misspent youth and baking trays on icy days
A hot cheap brand coffee in a chipped petrol-token mug
Perched on weathered wrought iron painted brown like last year
Meant so much in that moment grasped and shaped like glass with glee
I remember that there is life in this here estate sometimes
Watching as you do,
from your own slice of life on your patch of balcony
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:24 AM UTC
Oh sleepless night why come tonight?
Curiosity lead me astray
Now sleepless night show me thine telescopic sight
Oh sleepless night why torment me?
Thou came at a strange time in life
Sensuality cover of my sanity
Oh sleepless night why hinder rest?
Youthful travels delay gateways
Yesterdays, break of day, spiritual decay
Oh sleepless night how do you rest?
Time passes yet you do not lay down
Sleepless night show thine sunday best among the rest
Envoi:
Thine heart shalt rest no more,
Find eternal peace by the shore.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC
Dear father,
I still remember the last time I saw you
It's funny, because you looked just the same as you always did
Like someone
Who was never really mine.
Like a stranger in disguise
Who's reality only exists
When I close my eyes and fantasize about you being in my life
But I guess
When you heard you should live your life without
Regret
You mistook that for my name
And I wonder if you will ever understand the pain
Of knowing someone only when you imagine them
Or loving someone who thought
Never talk to strangers
Was a lesson best learnt by example
But they say actions speak louder than words
And you became so consumed by your own self worth to really give a **** about who you hurt
So you became the expert
At manipulating words
Like turning
I love yous into sorrys
And
Tomorrows into yesterdays
Until it was safe to say I couldn't count on you
Dear father,
Because of you
I constantly found myself falling in love with things that could never love me back
I became infatuated with sandcastle and snowflakes
Addicted to temporary moments
Addicted to broken
Thought if I learnt to fix things
Then somehow
I might find the manuscript
To piecing the shattered part of my being whole again
Because of you
I spent years trying to cover this skin that you left me with
Tried decorating these scars
With tattooed hopes
To remind myself
That sometimes
Some things
Were made to last forever
Because of you,
For years I avoided looking into the mirror
Because I never truly knew
If you could love someone
You only ever met in passing
You see
I mistook your ***** for water
I never realised I was internally drowning in your poison
I thought I needed you to stay afloat
It took me a long time to realise
That ***** was just your way of relieving yourself from blame
You became a box full of things
I packed away the day you left
But I've stopped trying to hold on to your burden
So I've taken out my smile
And I'll wear it with pride
And Dear father,
Did you know
That if you repeat a word enough times
Then eventually the word will start to lose it's meaning?
And I've stopped wishing I was still young enough to understand
What the word father meant
And now no know
That if I ever see you again
Then you will look just the same as you always did
Like someone
who doesn't deserve to be mine
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
I AM BEAUTIFUL
I am beautiful;
but my heart is locked
from the pains of yesterdays
in knowledge, I do have
the good and the bad
I get happy and sad
I get overwhelmed with emotions
of feelings that cut so deep within me,
oh, how my heart
bleeds out in ink
for all to read about me
what it is that I feel
and what isn't seen
on the eyes of hate,
from my own hatters
I stand up for who I am
no matter the pain
that comes my way,
I am Beautiful within my soul
I am elegant yet brave
but at times I am afraid
I am a woman of knowledge
I know I have so much more to learn
as this life keeps on turning,
I will keep doing what it is I love
even when I am aging with time
I will keep on writhing
and fighting for me
while the old pen bleeds the ink of me.
Poetic Judy Emery © 1990
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
All are architects of Fate,
Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme.
Nothing useless is, or low;
Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
Strengthens and supports the rest.
For the structure that we raise,
Time is with materials filled;
Our to-days and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.
Truly shape and fashion these;
Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no man sees,
Such things will remain unseen.
In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the Gods see everywhere.
Let us do out work as well,
Both the unseen and the seen;
Make the house, where Gods may dwell,
Beautiful, entire, and clean.
Else our lives are incomplete,
Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stairways, where the feet
Stumble as they seek to climb.
Build to-day, then, strong and sure,
With a firm and ample base;
And ascending and secure
Shall to-morrow find its place.
Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
And one boundless reach of sky.
5.6k
by Danny Smith
The old man rises from his chair
gently cursing the ache that crept into his bones
when he wasn't looking
His slippered feet scuff the carpet
making a journey they know without him
to the window
He watches down on the cars
as they flash through the rain on an urgent journey
somewhere
Leaning forward to rest his forehead
on the cool damp pane that shields him from it all
his prison wall
The cars seem to softly merge
as fragments like a broken mirror
tease and torment
A lifetime of dreams and tomorrows
that somehow became painful yesterdays
much too fast
Squeezing his eyes tightly closed
he remembers her face and the soft scar on her cheek
a perfect imperfection
The laughter and cries of children
running to him with chocolate smeared mouths
grown now, gone now
All of them to different worlds
ones where he was afraid to travel to
out there
Plenty of time to make it through
but the nights seem to skip the sunshine days
sentenced
he shuffles back to the chair
lowering himself with limbs that can't be his
removes his slippers
Reaches for the polished shoes
years old but hardly worn and still uncreased
laces them
Moves slowly through the house
turning of lights, collecting a wallet
a pack of cigarettes, a photograph
pocketing them
The old man stands at the open door
just a fragment of someone elses memory, as he walks
into the rain
©Danny Smith
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
Even if I’m alone now, from our yesterdays,
Today is born sparkling,
Like the day when we first met
But what good is a heart if it keeps on aching,
Spirit away in the stream of thoughts, the answer is unclear, always.
Even if I sink even deeper into the embrace of the sea,
I will remember the light of better days,
The whereabouts of the heart have faded,
The kiln has no flame to possess,
Cinder is what is left of this burnt away past.
Mother Purity has been staned by anger,
Sympathizing with fury is a lost cause,
A widdow without a child who cries for help,
But who will answer but the voices from within ?
At least the ghost of the night carried her to sleep,
At least she doesn't have to die in a dream.
The dream which shattered long ago
~ Umi
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
"She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
~Shakespeare, from 'Macbeth'
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:46 PM UTC
The wind roars —
then stills to listen
to the spoken grandeur
from the soul of the
angry autumn sky
Its quickly moving grandeur
moving way beyond
a trailing moment's wake
Change often goes voiceless —
the autumn wind
needs not consent
to bare the trees;
disguising all symmetry
of yesterdays fleeting glance
Overarching that which
can no longer be
as it once was —
A bitter cold gust preys
on this aging bark
stirring to the roots
of my soul
Will true nature’s
powerful essence
ever reshape the scars
these wind-whipped
human feather's
mask ?
The wind roars —
then stills to listen ,...
and I wonder why
I can’t be the change
I see
Stillwater in the wind
Jesse Stillwater ... November 2nd, 2018
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
In a midwinter night’s dream
i found myself lost again,
or was it even this year ?
It may even go back farther
than yesterdays out of reach,
older than an ancient pyramid stone
Before the rebirth of past life deposits,
unborn orphaned motherless sediment,
flotsam of the ages adrift,
unknown for more than a thousand years
... waiting for so long to see beyond the bounds
High atop a slippery edge-cliff
i clung ―
Searching for a deeper understanding
of who i am;
Roosting like a starving bird of prey
with a broken wing
born alone ... holding on
With a fear in his eyes
that only i could comprehend
Staring way down deep in the pith,
into an internal pitch black abyss,
just begging to see beyond ―
Mindful it's so hard looking
into the eye of a storm
Intimately parsing the recurrent source
of reigning pain
Where the perpetual fog of isolation dwells;
an inversion, preventing dispersion
of the nimbus cold and dark
In the darkness, there bides a suffocating
emptiness,
A swelling silence what loudly knells,
leeching through a perennial ache
An abating voice within hollers unheard,
invisible as a bitter cold wind howling
relentlessly through the hollow pang;
Echoing the subsiding say
(squeezed out) ... of an orphaned soul
deep beneath the light
Awakening to realize ― once i was alive
and
i could feel me holding on to you
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
My soul will sail away
And let the winds
From my troubling yesterdays
Fill its tattered sails
And carry it wayward
Bound for a better future
Although the waves will batter
And the thunder will crash
I know my vessel will reach harbor
Surviving to set sail yet again
When I find my soul restless
Longing for the next journey
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
Thinking with short breath, gripping my chest, sinking with stress?
Just to attest, Imagine putting stress to the test
Over pushing boundaries set with intent
Chasing leads, gaining lost time pursuing a lust with broken trust
Only to rise to the question
Can the duality of morals and ethics which define us..
Be overwritten?
Misconstrued needs for skeptics lost in line
Slowly assimilating breathless methods
Hijacked
Black rose petals spiraling to conclusion, Decomposing as if to forget this
Why don't I neglect this elusive euphoria defined in terms of confusion?
Split paths once veering in opposite directions begin running parallel
I know I'm here, but who's that there?
Ominous reflections veer back with eyes unfamiliar
A face with no definition grabs my wrist lurching me forward
Weightlessly ***** following a diverging direction with questioned intention.
Where are you taking me? (Silence)
Operating in two places at once, questioning who is the driver
Hijacked
There but ever increasingly distant, attempting to reach you
The sunrise rekindling the spark of yesterdays intuitions
Preserving eloquence like a flower in full bloom
Suddenly fades eerie in an instant, dwindling on gloomy restless expressions
Cloudy perception refracted by crystalline illusions
The evanescent cypress terpene, king of bliss
Flowing in the direction towards what has been calling it most
An icy chill enters my chest, a constant race to chase an endless quest
A ploy of acceptance with a cotton ball
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:50 AM UTC