I hope you enjoy my thread

[mml]

When In Winter I Died



It was cold as I looked out upon the night sky
Wondering what should become of you and I,
What of the love that once ran so free?
I could see my breath as I walked down the frosty road,
Slowly slinking home to my humble abode,
And the cold was bitter as it crept up my feet.
Dirty, crusty snow covered the street.
Your cries and screams stay with me,
As if demanding some retribution fee.
Haunting like some tell-tale heart
That beats within my mind,
There is no peace that I can find.

Cold December night,
I full of fright,
An eerie mist within my head.
Words only failed me,
No intelligence prevailed in me.
Only stuttered, hollow words came out,
Words that were rooted deep within doubt.
So sipping at my drink,
I was not allowed to think
And I shot me an albatross.
With my words and thought
These troubles I wrought.

When in winter I cried,
When in winter I died.










Sleep became an unfamiliar thing,
Always awake before the bell would ring.
I shivered as the cries came back to me.
The mist refused to leave my head.
It had set up shop and made its bed.
I quiver and shake and cry and moan,
There are times of courage but they’re only on loan.
And I ponder and look up into the air,
Alfred once said, “Do I dare?”
And do I dare to disturb the universe?
Why is love a tool,
Why does it rule?

Fear love? – A question I ask of me.
Fear commitment? – A life long problem you see.
The fog has left its bed unmade.
The tears within my heart,
They are tearing me apart.
It is blind minds that make the world go round,
Why is it that I listen to their sound?
Your sound I shall try to revive in me now
Yet I don’t know quite how.
I’m looking for my abyssinian maid
Who plays her dulcimer so beautifully,
But I no longer hear her symphony.

When in winter I cried,
When in winter I died.

[mml]

I submitted this one before, but I thought I would put it in my thread.



Serenity

On the hills above the Serengeti,
In the peacefulness of a spring afternoon,
I saw a lion and a lioness lying together,
Viewing the tranquil serenity, which surrounded them.

I began to think of the days when
When much of the world was as placid as this,
And my thoughts could wander,
Thinking of nothing specific, but of everything.

I remembered the times when felt that my dreams could come true.
That I could live and love and wander and wonder
And seek and find and wish and espy,
Never to surmise that I should die.

I laughed at myself as I thought these things,
Those feckless thoughts of mine,
Which have no place or purpose in a world like ours.
They are the enemies of the cynicism we all take on.

I shed a tear for fruitless thoughts,
I trembled as my gaze wandered to look upon Kilimanjaro.
I cried for the death of my dreams,
Which caused the death of my heart.

I contemplated the world around me,
Its people, its places, its things.
They were all just there, meaning nothing to me.

I contemplated my world,
The people I knew, the places I’d been, the things I’d seen.
They were all still there, I meant nothing to them.

I pondered on the fact that the world around me was not at peace,
Not with itself or with anything or anyone.



I pondered on the fact that I was not at peace,
Not with myself or with anything or anyone.
I pondered on the fact that the lion was at peace, with itself and the world,
And was free to live and love and wander and wonder,
And it sought and it found and it wished and it espied,
Never to surmise that it should die.

On the hills above the Serengeti,
In the peacefulness of a spring afternoon,
I saw a lion and a lioness lying together,
Viewing the tranquil serenity, which surrounded them.

[mml]

CRUSH THE ROSES

I CAME ACROSS A SILKEN ROOM
WHERE MANNEQUINS STOOD HAND IN HAND.
I LOOKED ACROSS THIS SILKEN ROOM
AND I SAW THE JURY AND TOOK THE STAND.

IN FUTURE YEARS I LIVED IN A BLOOD RED HOUSE
WHERE MANNEQUINS TOOK STRANGE POSES,
AND OUT IN FRONT OF MY BLOOD RED HOUSE
WERE THE BLOODIER RED ROSES.

SO CRUSH THE ROSES,
AND BRUSH THOSE VELVET TEARS AWAY.
CRUSH THE ROSES,
BEFORE THE ROSES OF MY MIND DECAY.

IN PAST TIMES I LOVED ALL LIFE,
THE MANNEQUINS WERE LOVERS IN THE PARK.
I TRULY SAW GOOD IN MY LIFE,
NOW I’M ONLY AFRAID OF THE DARK.

CHAMPAGNE, CAVIAR, TRULY FESTIVE ARTWORK,
MANNEQUINS HOLDING THEIR GLASSES HIGH.
I’VE CUT AND BURNED THE ARTWORK,
ITS BEAUTY DESERVED TO DIE.

SO CRUSH THE ROSES,
AND BRUSH THOSE VELVET TEARS AWAY.
CRUSH THE ROSES
BEFORE THE HEART’S BLOOD IS SPILLED TODAY.

I’VE BUILT A SILKEN ROOM IN MY BLOOD RED HOUSE
WHERE MANNEQUINS STAND ARM IN ARM,
AND IN FRONT OF MY BLOOD RED HOUSE
I PROTECT MY BELOVED ROSES FROM HARM.

I’VE WALKED IN PLACES OF GRANDUER AND HOLINESS,
WHERE MANNEQUINS LOOK ON IN AWE.
PLACES WHERE I AM FORCED TO QUESTION MY WORTH AND HOLINESS,
AND IN MY ROSES I RELIVE WHAT I SAW.




SO CRUSH THE ROSES,
AND BRUSH THOSE VELVET TEARS AWAY.
CRUSH THE ROSES,
TO KEEP THE DARK THOUGHTS AT BAY.

PROPHETS, POLITICIANS, PARANOIA, THE PUTCH,
THE MANNEQUINS WITH FRIGHTENED FACES.
IN MY VIOLENT YOUTH I SPARKED THE PUTCH,
AND IN MY ROSES I STILL SEE THE TRACES.

AS MY WHITE WOODEN CROSS WAS RISEN,
“FLORES, FLORES PARA LOS MUERTOS.” THE MANNEQUINS SAID.
MY UNDERSTANDING OF MY RETURN WAS RISEN,
AND MY LOVELY RED ROSES BLED.

SO CRUSH THE ROSES,
AND BRUSH THOSE VELVET TEARS AWAY.
CRUSH THE ROSES,
AND WATCH, AS THE SPIRIT DEVELOPS AND THE BODY DOES DECAY.

[mml]

THANKSGIVING


I’m thankful for the beautiful lady, who agreed to be my wife,
For all the things she does that make this a wonderful life.
I’m thankful for the paths I’ve traveled and those that lie ahead,
For the glimpses of my boy, sleeping in his bed.
I’m thankful for all I’ve done and all I’ve yet to do,
For my wife, our love and the wonder of how it grew.
I’m thankful for this joyous day and all of nature’s ways,
For Sunday mornings under covers and her special gaze.
I’m thankful for my family and all of our dear friends,
For the all the happy moments and even the bitter ends.
I’m thankful for the road less traveled and the well-worn path,
For all my mistakes and my goofs and even all my gaffs.
I’m thankful for our freedom and our liberty,
For all of life’s silliness, and death’s dignity.
I’m thankful for the miracle of love and the miracle of birth,
For all the anger and the strife, but especially the mirth.
I’m thankful for pandemonium and serenity,
For wisdom, for foolishness and divinity.
I’m thankful for my laziness and when I have been driven,
For all the very special moments that I have been given.
I’m thankful for each moment I’ve spent with each of you,
For all the love you’ve given and everything you do.
I’m thankful for all the words I’ve said and everything I’ve done,
I may not be proud of them all, but least I’ve had some fun.
I’m thankful for when I am the lion and when I am the lamb,
I’m thankful for all these things; they make me who I am.

[J.R.V.A.]

Great work. Crush the roses sounds like a song

[mml]

My nephew asked me today why people lie. Oh, from the mouths of babes. After he left, I sat down and this came out.



Lies.
Insidious, dangerous, contagious
But oh so useful.

Do you lie?
Of course you do as do I.
Why?

Ease, comfort, vanity.
The list can go
On.

Lies.
Little whites,
Whoppers,
Simple B.S.
Why?

Expediency,
Simplification,
Indoctrination.

Lies
Every now and again
Every day
Whenever, Wherever

Why?
Simply because
We are human.

[J.R.V.A.]

I lie when I am tired lol. Great poem... yes, we teach our kids what we do

[mml]

Haven't posted in a while, but here is a new one, hope you enjoy.



OCEAN BIRDS

THE OLD MAN
WOKE EACH MORNING
TO THE CALLS OF THE OCEAN BIRDS.
HE’D SMILE BRIEFLY,
PONDERING ON HIS LIFE
AND THAT OF THE BIRDS,
THEN PULL HIMSELF UP
AND PREPARE TO GO TO SEA

HIS BOAT WAS NOT AS GRAND
AS MANY OF THE OTHER FISHERMEN,
BUT HE HAD LED A GOOD LIFE
AND HIS WAS BY NO MEANS THE WORST
ON THE DOCK.

IT WAS SMALL,
BUILT FOR TWO
AND PERHAPS A PASSENGER,
BUT HE LOVED HER,
THE OLD “BOURBON QUEEN”.

PETE WAS HIS HELPER
A KIND YOUNG MAN OF THIRTY,
WHO IN HIS OWN WAY
LOVED THE MAN.
THEY WORKED TOGETHER
DAY IN AND DAY OUT
ALMOST EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR
AND FOR SEVEN YEARS RUNNING.

THAT DAY THEY SET OUT
AND THE OLD MAN FELT TIRED,
BUT HAPPY ALL IN ALL.
HE KEPT WONDERING ALL DAY
ABOUT THE BIRDS AND THEIR FREEDOM
AND HE LONGED TO HAVE IT.

PETE WAS NOT WELL,
AND THE OLD MAN COULD SEE,
SO HE DID MOST OF THE WORK.
HE HID HIS WEARINESS WELL,
AND CAME TO LIFE
WHEN HE SPOTTED A GRAND FISH
THAT COULD FEED HE AND PETE
FOR WEEKS.




HE LOOKED TO PETE
WHO ON A GOOD DAY
WOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM
WITH SUCH A CATCH,
BUT TODAY HE WAS TOO ILL.
HE WAS VERY ILL,
AND THAT THE OLD MAN COULD TELL.

SO HE CAST OUT A LINE
WITH HIS BEST OF BAITS
AND HE WAITED,
AND WAITED,
AND WAITED,
AND THEN IT SNARED!

THE FISH WAS SURELY GRAND
FOR THE FIGHT IT PUT UP;
IT WAS THE STRUGGLE OF
A LIFETIME FOR THE OLD MAN,
WHO GREW MORE TIRED
AND WHO CONTINUED TO PONDER
THE BIRDS
INSTEAD OF FOLLOWING THE FISH.

THE OLD MAN WORKED HARD,
BUT HE KNEW IT WAS
A LOOSING BATTLE,
AND HE DID NOT CARE.
HE CUT THE LINE
AND LAY BACK NEXT TO PETE.

“PETE MY BOY,
THIS WORLD IS NOW YOURS,
WORK HARD, LIVE CLEAN
AND YOU’LL BE HAPPY.”
THEN HE CLOSED HIS EYES
AND LEARNED THE FREEDOM
OF THE OCEAN BIRDS.

[mml]

Here's another.

A Key to Freedom

Erratic thoughts
Invade my mind
Reality enters one ear
Exits the other
Time no longer exists
Light and dark are shade
Sun and Moon merge
Day and night fade away

A solemn silence
Overtakes me
The void is filled
With imagination
I crest above all else
In the purity
Of eyes to thought

For beyond here and now
I go
To whenever or wherever it be
With he, she, it or them
I am amazed, saddened even joyful
Onward I go

My mind is muddled
My eyes are sore
Too long I have been at this
I rub my eyes
Shut off the light
Think back on all I’ve done and seen
With a faint sigh I close my book
And head to the bedroom door

[saffron]

I like your stuff mml. You seem to see a clear connection between nature and mankind in both Serenity and Ocean birds.

I also really loved Thanksgiving. It almost sounds like it should be on a plaque in my kitchen. Thanks

P.S. I hope that last comment doesn't offend you, I meant it as a compliment.

[mml]

Thanks saffron. It is always nice when someone likes what you wrote. I really see everything as interconnected and I don't take offense to your comment. In fact, I wrote that last Thanksgiving to say at Thanksgiving dinner and my wife made a copy and had it framed and it is up in our house. (It drives me nuts, but she refuses to take it down.)

Also thanks for posting, because it reminded me that I had not been on the Lit thread in a while.

[SoConfused]

Your cries and screams stay with me,
As if demanding some retribution fee.
___________________________________

There are times of courage but they’re only on loan.
_____________________________

It is blind minds that make the world go round,
Why is it that I listen to their sound?
_______________________________________

THEN HE CLOSED HIS EYES
AND LEARNED THE FREEDOM
OF THE OCEAN BIRDS.
__________________________________

Nice stuff. I really liked the lines above. The one about times of courage reminds me of when my mom was going through chemotherapy, it really hit the mark. And I hope that we all get to lean back and learn the freedom of birds. Thanks and keep writing.

[ForgottenKnight]

Great writings mml! I really like your work. Thank you for sharing them with us.