Dreams
If only we had another
Tomorrow for all of our
Precious moments
Even if those moments
Fade away
Into dream of yesterday
Thirteen Poems for Saturday Night
Saturday night allows me
thirteen poems to celebrate
what remains for me to create
some songs recall music I have heard
some songs recall what I remember
some songs rely upon what I once dreamed.
Silent Prayers
Prayers have a goal
To reach the silence in your soul.
Everyday I pray
For a hopeful new day.
How many times I pray
Depends on how much I stray.
Never too early in the day
To kneel down and pray.
In the hour of need
Go for the prayer bead.
Just sit and pray
If you can’t re-pay.
When prayers are chanted
Gift feels wanted.
I daily pray
For splendid days.
Prayer takes you where
No one else is there.
hour 13: Earth Replaced
I woke up with a nervous start,
Or was it an end?
It tripped my heart!
The earth we knew had been replace.
Or, where we lived had been erased.
Two suns were shining in the sky.
Five moons were circling, way up high.
It really was a different sight,
Even so it seemed alright.
I had a lot of work to do,
Five moons, two suns, no sleep for you!
My irritation peaked of course,
My smile, I had to really force.
A sleepless world made stress more keen,
Kind was gone, replaced with mean.
And as the days went rolling by,
Five wars broke out, an all time high.
They fought to colonize each moon.
This world became a mess too soon.
And when at last I did find sleep,
My dreams had nowhere safe to creep.
So you can understand my plight,
How was I to make this right?
I made a call to God on high,
This is not right, make it a lie!
He heard me and I woke again,
Back on the earth I was born in.
I called back God to say all’s well
I said that other world was hell.
Thank you for keeping life this way,
I’ll do my best to make it stay.
Let No One Stop You
Let no gust of wind,
Seize the passion from your heart.
Let no whirlpool,
Sink the rowing boat of your moving life.
Let no draught,
Dwindle the endeavouring hands of your to work.
Let no burning flames,
Instigate you to run away from the probs of your life.
Let no facing danger,
Leave your perplexed mind in mire.
Let no one stop you,
To cast a war from being what you are.
Don’t ever think to vanish from the road of success.
Don’t let any murky, dark night,
Leave your days full of ambition.
Don’t let the sultry hot day,
Leave your desire of shade.
claire
a quiet confidence
growing
along with her stature
like a graceful colt
she is coming into her own
i’m scared for her
excited
anxious
on the brink of turning twelve
it’s a bridge to
fall off
or leap from
i think she will
cross it with long strides
her back to the rest of us
watching
bravery blooming like a lotus
the sun on her face
Angel
He is an angel!
His music is relaxing.
He plays like no one I have ever heard before.
Life Without You
Life would be dreary
Without you my deary
You are –
My friend
My caretaker
My mentor
My inspiration
My confidant
My soul
My everything
Life without you
Is long overdue
You are the one
Who gave me the power –
To judge right from wrong
To be my own self
To stand upright and win hearts
And above all,
Be humane
Life has no meaning
Without your intervening
You are nobody else, but-
Adventurous
Bombastic
Caring
Daring
Erotic
Faithful
Gregarious
Honest
Innovative
Just
Kind
Lovable
Mind blowing
Naughty
Omniscient
Pure
Quick
Rock star
Smart
Trustworthy
Unbelievable
Visionary
Watchful
Xy/sexy
Young
Zealous
You are everything from A-Z
Life has been a pleasure
The day I received you as a treasure
EXPRESSIVE (hour 13, 2017)
EXPRESSIVE
“Red narrates, red highlights, red beautifies brunettes but doesn’t blemish blondes, red embellishes, red loved, and red kills too – but it is not the color of mourning.”
– Marie-Caroline Sainsaulieu, “Expressive Red”
What if the world turned red? Red, red, and red, with bits of white, orange and black. As if there were to be no mourning anymore. No lost words, no missed affection, no ungentle touching. Only relaxation, and the quiet smoothing of hair.
Take Degas’s “Combing the Hair,” for instance. No blue eyes, blue skies, blue bells. No broken bodies lying in green fields, no dead grasses on sandy shores. No snarled black tresses, no blonde roots showing. Only the comb’s whispers, your arm and hand caressing my hair.
Edgar Degas, Combing the Hair (La Coiffure), The National Gallery (Britain)
It all comes too quickly,
All at once,
As if a damn has broken,
As if one was not enough.
If only the landslide
Could be slowed down
So that more people
Could be saved from
Disaster.
If only sink holes
Gave warning before
Taking back the
World.