What is a poem you have written?

Four cats sleep
draped and scattered like fallen petals
A fire burns, deep and strong
to bathe their feline dreams in warmth

The old ones must have much to dream of
nearly 30 years of life between them

Four counties
5 cities
6 homes.

Beach cats, valley cats, country mountain cats,
well traveled, well kept,
good living cats.

Sleep soft tonight in this last home of yours
backs curved against the dimming fire
and dream, your golden eyes shut tight against tomorrow.

After the Red Sox won the 2004 World Series, I wrote an entire collection of celebratory haiku. My personal favorite:

An October night
Sky darkens, lunar eclipse
New England ghosts rest

(Yes, this is what a lifetime of baseball obsession does to one’s brain!)

You are my one true love, my sweet (SO name),
and I want you to know, you are everything to me.

Being far away from you makes me tired and worn.
You are my meaning of life, the reason I was born.

I think of our love, and it’s just so easy to see.
You and me together, It was just meant to be.

I carried this love, all my life, not knowing who to give it to.
I now realize, that all that time, I was just saving it for you.

I wrote this one at two a.m. one morning when I had insomnia and my pen wouldn’t work properly.

A frustrated writer did think
Her pens were always on the blink.
So what she did then
Was swallow her pen
And onto her paper, pissed ink.

” Brother”

The famous poets, the ones I love, wrote about birds,
(Although Auden talked about his cat)
Metaphor for beauty,song, verse, hope,and death.
Hawks, cuckoos, falcons – Aristophanes, of course -
Hopkins and his “morning’s minion” Wind Hover,
Yeat’s Swan who was really Zeus looking to cause
mischief and succeeding.

The best always for me were Hardy’s and Frost’s Thrushes,
divas of the Avian opera;
one poem of affirmation, one of bitterness, but still their voices
ringing.

When I hear the wood thrush’s fluted tones, my brother
will get well. I wait eagerly and hold my breath.
I know he will recover.

Today I heard the veery – caroling.
Close, but no cigar.
Where is the thrush, I plead.
I go to a friend’s house in the woods.
I hear the flautist singing

I don’t like it
When your name’s lit
I don’t like it
Not much just a bit
I don’t like it
Tum,de tum de tum dit.

Psycho Ward- written at 15.

Empty faces
Staring eyes
Mumbling, chanting
Screams and cries
Groans and moans
are left ignored
Welcome to the psycho ward

^^Sounds like the fluther chat rooms…how very perceptive.

Et maintenant c’est moi
qui parle ta langue comme
une vache espagnole.
Si la douleur de cette absence
ne me saigne pas à
chaque instant, c’est
parce que je me mets en garde
de ne pas trop penser à toi
à la faiblesse dans
laquelle tu me mets
toujours.

Vanité! Je me laisse hanter.
Le temps s’arrête
et je ne désire que
te donner tout
tout partager avec toi,
nos discussions saoules et sans fin,
nos baisers à couper le souffle.

I started something I
could not finish, mon
très cher, et je ne sais
que faire avec ce coeur
qui est le tien.

Here’s one I’ve been working on.

Many years ago on dark moon filled night
A young man clung to the railing of the heaving ship
His legs were lost beneath him, unable to find strength or grip
He wished that the feeling of sickness would leave him
As he hung there, useless
Unable to look at the rolling waves
He gazed up into the moon, hanging large and white and perfect round

She broke the waves, then, rising from the deep
Climbing upwards in silky grace
Shining light on pale skin

A moment of time forever captured in a young man’s eyes
Suspended there
Arched back, arms flung out welcoming the cool light
Arced pale green hair flinging tiny gems of silver drops
Translucent webbing between splayed fingers
Shining scales glistening in the trough of waves

Then she was gone, plunging back into the deep waters
And he was lost

Joining what crews he could
The young man searched the waters
Mile by mile, year past year
Never to see the elusive water nymph

Some journeys were smooth, yet uneventful
Others beset by lingering placid lengths
And one, harrowing rough and tempest times
Threatening the soul with awful violence

Swept ashore from a broken shattered ship
Skin cut and raw from sharp wave honed rocks
He climbed from the stormy waves and sat
With empty spirit he gazed up into the face
Of the full and giant moonThen she was there bobbing between the waves
A deep sigh left his lips

“For years of twenty and five
I have searched for you
My home, I left
Distant shores I tried
Always looking for any sign
Of your beauty
I see you now
Wishing never to see another
But to slip beneath the waves
With you, for ever after”

She raised herself, then
Held his wet cheek with delicate hand

“My poor, sweet, tired mortal
You cannot be with me
I am wed to the water
You to the land
Though you deny it so
I swim in the blood
While you should walk on the bones

But we are both of the Earth
So I will let you keep me in your heart
Although no good shall ever come of it

You chased a dream
A fragment of a phantom
That you could never catch

Lay down your hopes, your desires
Your dreams
Return to the Land of Mortals
Stop the suffering of your heart

You live in a world
That is neither mine
Nor yours
Separating yourself
From your kin
In search of a dream
What has it brought you
Besides trouble and strife?

Your life has been easier than some
Harder than others
Not one thing and not the other
You find yourself
In the middle
Never belonging

You are weary beyond words
I can see that in your eyes
Battered, beaten
Dragged beneath the sea
Only to be rejected
Given back to land
Where no comfort is given

You hold back your pain
And your tears
But don’t you know
Strength is knowing
When to let go

Mortal years creep upon you
So much wasted time
Chasing this dream
That you’ve found
Spoken with
Touched, however fleeting
It is not for you to have

Go home, mortal sailor
Rejoin your kind
For though your house
Is empty
Your heart is full
And open

What has been gained
Has been lost
One step forward
One step back
There are battles
Which cannot be won

The peace you seek
Is yours alone
It will greet you in time”

With that she was gone
Tracing her fingers down his weathered cheek
Disappearing beneath the rolling swells

I wrote this one to my husband’s friend as a joke. I was pretending to be my husband expressing my feelings for him:

Ode to Guy (his name)

Many times I’ve struggled
To find the words to say
That I love you like a brother
Now I’m telling you today

Many times you’ve guided me
through the obstacles of life
You were always there for me
You’re closer than my wife

You’re the yin to my yang
My umbrella in the rain
The best buddy a man could have

You’re the truth the sets me free
And you take good care of me
When I’m wounded
You supply the salve

When I’m down in the dumps
You give me a jump
Like jumper cables hooked up to a car

When I feel like a zero
You tell me I’m a hero
Before you know it I feel like a star

You’re the father I never had
And I’d like to call you dad
I guess what I’m saying is, I like you Guy

I think that you are sweet
And you make my life complete
And in conclusion you’re the apple of my eye

@Coloma Really precious! :) I read it to my husband and he thought so too, and just now ask me to read it again. Merry Christmas! :)

@kitszu Thanks.

Need Some Help Here…

I am trying not to love you,
trying to not lie to myself,
to keep a level head…
but it is near impossible.

Could you help me out a little?
Could you try not to be so wonderful?
Try not to be so attentive?
So giving of your time?

Talked to you the other night,
half scared of rejection.
Sure you wouldn’t want to talk,
adding to my dejection.

Perhaps that would have been better
for this heart that’s in denial.
Perhaps a dose of reality
would have ended my trial.

You see, I’m trying not to love you.
I know it will never be.
I know that you don’t feel the same way
about this lovestruck me.

And yet you continue to call to my heart,
just by being all that you are.
Your kindness is a much needed balm,
on a heart that still bears a scar.

A scar that represents deep hurt,
from which I am trying to heal.
A scar that only began to fade,
when your kindness I did feel.

I’m afraid that in helping me to heal,
you caught my heart in a net.
I should be trying to swim away,
but I am not ready just yet.

I want to bask in your kindness,
in the caring that you express
with every moment you spend with me
showing your thoughtfulness.

So I really need your help, you see.
There are some things that I need from you.
Can you stop treating me like I matter?
Is this something that you’d ever do?

See, I sense it is not in your nature,
to ever willingly do someone harm.
And so I am not sure that I will escape,
From the net that is made from your charm.

And then when you offered to help me,
with a seemingly mundane thing,
to share of your time from your busy life,
well…that offer made my heart sing.

So, here I sit, content in your net,
not knowing just how to break out.
Unless you release me (and please be gentle),
I’ll be here forever, no doubt.

@kitsu-I thanked you and it turns out you were talking to @Coloma. Oh well.

Not a big deal. :) Your poem reminded me of my husband and his best friend. I wish they spent more time together and I wish the guy I want to call my brother was married to a woman I could stand.

The light that passes through you
Fades into the mouths of hungry shadows
Deepening their substance ‘til I can feel
Their weight pressed against my chest
Solid enough to take and hold shape
Yet you remain gossamer and thread bare
Beneath hands that hold no power…

There will be a moment, a place in time
where our breaths will be side by side,
our hearts full, our minds noisy,
but we will find that state of grace.

Loving myself has taught me how to find you again.
It has taught me to care for you more deeply.
Once together, our lives will meld again and our love will blend.
For within this wait, these very anticipated moments, we have learned to know
our self again.

We will return to our childlike wonderment and release the creativity in our
true spirit.
Like a child, be free of the noise in our mind…be free.
We will bring the long forgotten innocent and uninhibited parts back into our
lives with each other,
We will play together as we once had done, found in that very moment we seek.

And I will know you,
forevermore.

Here is a poem made up of the first lines from the poems above, slightly edited.

Four cats sleep
on an October night.
You are my one true love, my sweet,
a frustrated writer thought.

The famous poets, the ones I love, wrote about birds.
But I don’t like it—
empty faces—
et maintenant c’est moi.

Time after time on dark, moon filled nights,
I’ve struggled, trying not to love you.

In the light that passes through you,
there will be a moment, a brief place in time.

@wundayatta snap snap snap snap snap

@wundayatta : Nice, kind of like a cut-up. :D

@wundayatta You aren’t just facing one lawsuit for plagiarism but several.

@JenniferP I think the fair use statutes have me covered. All except for the haiku.

Here’s my ” Ode to a goose” poem, written for my muse the goose, who else? Marwyn! haha

I don’t want to be a pillow

I don’t want to be a pillow
or a jacket or a throw
My life was not created to warm people in the snow

I do not want my body parts
mashed into a can
and spread upon a cracker
in culinary land

Do not bathe my sad remains
in a citrus glaze
My life was not created
to be roasted, baked or braised

Do not pluck my downy breast
as berries from a vine
My simple life belongs to me
and all of me is mine

I like your goose poem, @Coloma. It’s smart and funny. Nice effort.

I wrote this when I was 15 also.

Although I am surrounded
By people who I know
I’d be less lonely
Oh if only
I could be alone

I have no use for people
They do nothing for me
I depend on myself
And no one else
To keep me company
It strikes me as rather ironic
And also as very profound
That I feel content when I’m alone
But lonely in a crowd

I had kind of a dark childhood. My poems would be more cheerful now.

@wundayatta Thanks, it was a fun little effort.

Clarity is breathtaking;
bringing tangibility to the ethereal, palpable simplicity to the complex.

The sublime purity in it’s precise exactitude. The gravitas, awareness, mind exploding; and yet…

Awareness is fleeting in someway a relief, prolonged exposure is not unlike hearing the most beautiful sound in the world; sustained—indefinitely. But elation escapes even faster then the echoes through the brain. Rendered hollow, audiocarved crevasses mutely scream. Natural events brutal in their efficiency.

Lacking respite, the sinking feeling, not so much as free falling as sliding into the depths with pressure charges the light sinking away. Who is in control of submarine and where are the corals and the pretty fish?