Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"youngers" poems
just before never... *my last performance, the words came original and easy, unlike all its predecessors; someone drew me a map of my life and times, cities, countries, and roads well travelled and a few, not too. Mountains, each with a woman’s name, who carried care, until she couldn’t, didn’t, and time’s weathering returned us individually into hillocks, and then rain eroded us back into old soil. the broad highways and back roads, always snaking away, fork-forcing directional choices, usually taking the wrong way, the easy and safe one, and how I have come to hate those words: easy and safe, for they are the pill combo that leaves you for dead, dulling the questioning one inquires of oneself, late, reluctantly. But there is always the unexpected. Today I saw a sunset on the Hudson River with a humpback whale blowing, running beside a river ferry, plowing the waters back and forth tween two states. Lived by this river for s e v e n t y years, and have seen the whales in many places, but here, in my city, in the river of my youth, never. and I got the sign, message received, there are still sights and poems to behold, arms to embrace, youngers to guide if they’ll permit it. so this title, these two, just before, this day, poem, came to remind me, the days map remains unfinished, there are lands and voyages and poems still awaiting drawing, and it is tomorrow, and just before tomorrow, that recording insistent demands, and a map is just a moment in time, until just before...never* 5:28 AM Thu Dec 10 2020 (a year deserving of its own line and ending) Manhattan, between two rivers.
0
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 5:48 AM UTC
just before never...(a map, a humpback whale, a new day)
just before never... *my last performance, the words came original and easy, unlike all its predecessors; someone drew me a map of my life and times, cities, countries, and roads well travelled and a few, not too. Mountains, each with a woman’s name, who carried care, until she couldn’t, didn’t, and time’s weathering returned us individually into hillocks, and then rain eroded us back into old soil. the broad highways and back roads, always snaking away, fork-forcing directional choices, usually taking the wrong way, the easy and safe one, and how I have come to hate those words: easy and safe, for they are the pill combo that leaves you for dead, dulling the questioning one inquires of oneself, late, reluctantly. But there is always the unexpected. Today I saw a sunset on the Hudson River with a humpback whale blowing, running beside a river ferry, plowing the waters back and forth tween two states. Lived by this river for s e v e n t y years, and have seen the whales in many places, but here, in my city, in the river of my youth, never. and I got the sign, message received, there are still sights and poems to behold, arms to embrace, youngers to guide if they’ll permit it. so this title, these two, just before, this day, poem, came to remind me, the days map remains unfinished, there are lands and voyages and poems still awaiting drawing, and it is tomorrow, and just before tomorrow, that recording insistent demands, and a map is just a moment in time, until just before...never* 5:28 AM Thu Dec 10 2020 (a year deserving of its own line and ending) Manhattan, between two rivers.
Continue reading...
47
Your old body probably with a young soul We're not so different you and me, perhaps, as I think I start to know how it feels, clinging to the glory of the fountain of youth. Yet what should be imparted wisdom doesn't come naturally, it doesn't come certainly, certainly doesn't come through your disapproving glances, or through your continuous effort to invalidate the youngers. Probably we're not so different you and me, as I think I start to know the temptation, the temptation of void self glorification, a route I think created by the pestering need of self validation, Yet I don't think I'd choose what you choose, as much I would think I'm capable of, I'd choose to learn, rather than opposing the newborns
0
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Older
Changes As people we are always asking for changes; Spiritual, politically or just spontaneously During the election a number of folks asked and some even vote for changes We hate, we love, and we deplore acts of violence then and now:  Now it haunts most people: Some even would still consider shaking his hand: Some got what their asked for, and some still undecided: Let Us Not Become the Evil We Deplore.” By Amy Goodman He never goes under the covers: he just love to be exposed A ***** is a ***** in his eyes: He might asked to see the Birth certificate, but not the death certificate: but never the **** kit, the yearbook inputs or the country clubs initial membership lists: Birth for him meant still in control: death gone from one’s sight: I was chatting to a friend one day, I said to him imagine that everybody on this earth woke up one day To find zillion of dollars in their procession: What would that meant to others: the loss of the power: Money is the leveler that runs the world The bad things that we done in our youngers years Will one day comes back to haunts us The statutes of limitation is just the statue Time will not be forgotten: Memories lingers The pain, the shame of being in a humiliated situation we are living in a divided country Because, of so much greed and bigotry: A change is coming: and it's coming soon who run the worlds Girls!!!
0
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
The Country Club Initial Membership Lists: Narrarative Reportage 9/29/18
Huge are the empty spaces between us Distance 'tween the two of us is huge As if we had been millennia distant Unaware of each other's existence I believe that we had had to meet Long before all this life on earth Beyond scope of space and time Yes we will be meeting someday Xenial rituals we both will follow Waiting since several incarnations Since eternity we have been waiting Crescent of our relationship increases Plying along the tough roads unfailingly Equally perplexing are the difficulties Heads furnished with thorny crowns Fervently sustaining through them Moving on the road less travelled Gaining many milestones we go Jarring like youngers all along Kissing freakishly we make out Night or day - we would not care Ornamental things wouldn't count Rarely felt is such love which we do Quintessentially counting will be love Trembling is that finger pointing at us Venerable will be the age of our love
0
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
Venerable Love
I have always been the sweet charm and favorite of all people at home, But, there always comes a but, But I am "the girl" I must understand, But I am "the eldest"  I must know, But I am "the quietest" I must be smart, But I am "the senior" I must set good example, And in this series of But and examples I managed  to keep my dream and passion to myself in order to be perfect for my younger, But I always sit and wonder Am I really good? Or am I teaching my youngers to be fake? Am I really setting an good example? Or am I setting an example of being what others except you to be? What if I am the worst? What if they found out that I am FAKE? Will I'd be the perfect person then?
0
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
Fake
The story is known throughout the world a broken family the misunderstood offspring it takes pure chance to become a father or mother but being a dad or mom is the hardest work of all the problem with the world is that no one understands one another no one knows how to help each other that's why relationships can fade and lives end quicker than expected and the solution of the problem doesn't lie in the adults the children are the only ones who can terminate the errors of our ways because if those children see the youngest of children having similar dilemmas then the olders should aid the youngers if the youngers are saved the whole world will be in good hands
0
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
Heroes
Burnt out... I've lost count... So burnt out... Yeah... For so long I've put that pen to page I never did this to get paid I mean after all I'm still on minimum wage "From my window", "scribbles" and shakes I try to keep myself right, to my kids I pray That they're future won't be the same... as mine, morally strong but mentally afraid Fake faces produce hate in my soul Have we been here before, I feel so old Out stayed my welcome, rich from the songs I never sold Take back what I saw with that attitude just wished I'd done more Maybe I could've been the son you wished for Want to cry, need to vent, I just want to recall what I said I will always love you mum but I know what's done is done I know things could've have been better, should've started before I'd begun Laying the bricks on this road I run... paused for a second to look how far I've come... turns out this road has turned to crumbs, my body goes numb just slump into **** in the corner of this slum and see how I've succumb to what I've become... And just so you know! Without you I still feel alone... Throw a stone in the ocean into an unknown zone with no complicated commotion Disturb the family devotion, hit the curb, tried to pretend like didn't feel the hurt... And now I'm all burnt out... When the tears try drying, endless nights of crying Lying alone without ******* pillow to bury my grief Been afraid for so long try to believe it was hard for me So keep my arm around your neck cos I could go far, if you'll only see... "Uh I just don't know anymore"... Support a family who were left in the dark Shadows swallow us, these youngers follow us When feels like you've had enough, knowing you can't give up... Because no way in hell am I backing down Sitting down to brain storm and write it out I know without a doubt I'm the Simon Cowell of writing fowl "Play it loud" standing proud just to shout it out Hatred floods the mind but right now there's been a drought But how's many times have it said that now All the ******** I spout, I've lost track now and can hardly keep count I guess I'm almost done, I guess I'm almost out... of touch my myself, I'm always in doubt As the streets lights fade its got me feeling like a burnout My vocabularies limited, I'm crashing and it's imminent, wanna carry on but just don't know right now...
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 7:39 AM UTC
Burnout
Burnt out... I've lost count... So burnt out... Yeah... For so long I've put that pen to page I never did this to get paid I mean after all I'm still on minimum wage "From my window", "scribbles" and shakes I try to keep myself right, to my kids I pray That they're future won't be the same... as mine, morally strong but mentally afraid Fake faces produce hate in my soul Have we been here before, I feel so old Out stayed my welcome, rich from the songs I never sold Take back what I saw with that attitude just wished I'd done more Maybe I could've been the son you wished for Want to cry, need to vent, I just want to recall what I said I will always love you mum but I know what's done is done I know things could've have been better, should've started before I'd begun Laying the bricks on this road I run... paused for a second to look how far I've come... turns out this road has turned to crumbs, my body goes numb just slump into **** in the corner of this slum and see how I've succumb to what I've become... And just so you know! Without you I still feel alone... Throw a stone in the ocean into an unknown zone with no complicated commotion Disturb the family devotion, hit the curb, tried to pretend like didn't feel the hurt... And now I'm all burnt out... When the tears try drying, endless nights of crying Lying alone without ******* pillow to bury my grief Been afraid for so long try to believe it was hard for me So keep my arm around your neck cos I could go far, if you'll only see... "Uh I just don't know anymore"... Support a family who were left in the dark Shadows swallow us, these youngers follow us When feels like you've had enough, knowing you can't give up... Because no way in hell am I backing down Sitting down to brain storm and write it out I know without a doubt I'm the Simon Cowell of writing fowl "Play it loud" standing proud just to shout it out Hatred floods the mind but right now there's been a drought But how's many times have it said that now All the ******** I spout, I've lost track now and can hardly keep count I guess I'm almost done, I guess I'm almost out... of touch my myself, I'm always in doubt As the streets lights fade its got me feeling like a burnout My vocabularies limited, I'm crashing and it's imminent, wanna carry on but just don't know right now...
Continue reading...
42