PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

the things I will do for the past are telling

darker than darkness

I linger like things not said–

once I wrote that I wanted to know you

and now through knowing you

you are the only puzzle I will never solve–

finding the corners but

never all of them–

just searching for the dead ends,

what I think will close me in

the words I will use do not make a heaven of your body

they do not make me a martyr

they keep me in this empty space

they do not tell me I am as beautiful as I can be but

they have never told me you are not trying

the things I will do for the truth

are making me split like a parody

fight like inside my head

and all this character wants

is just to make her mine again

my body is another way to stretch my words until they break

it is something I don’t want to form until I speak it

you are everything I will lose

the end and the beginning and

the things I will do for love are sinful

scrabbling for grip

you are the only enemy I will never fight

just stand there in the ring

When you rise in the early morning long before the sun’s first light 

you have this wonderful opportunity to eavesdrop on the music of the night.

If you don’t hear the music at first…wait!…it won’t be long…

before the crickets, whom you never see, choose the rhythm of the song.

Once you catch the rhythm…just as your body begins to sway…

as if the maestro pointed in their direction…the woodwinds begin to play.

Their music enters from every direction as you walk through the neighborhood…

The melody changing depending on how the wind chooses to whistle through the woods.

The woodwinds can enter loudly on a gust…or softly on a gentle morning breeze…

either way….wherever you turn…there is music in the trees.

Just as you’re thinking to yourself…is there a better way to start the day…

the birds pick up their horns…and the brass begins to play.

If you’re lucky…and you listen closely…sometimes the music of the night…

offers a violin concerto…of the hummingbirds in flight.

Some walks take a little longer…you stop more often…close your eyes knowing you don’t have to see…all you have to do is listen to nature’s morning symphony.

Sadly…when the sun begins its rise…the symphony quickly fades away…

as the music of the night relinquishes the stage to the music of the day.

But another symphony begins tomorrow…if you rise before the sun’s first light…

another opportunity awaits…to eavesdrop on the music of the night.

The stars' silent light

winking through the night

Fireflies moving stars

Soundless is their light

as are the best teachers

whose auras without words

grant gifts of insight

Night,

Is so dark,

Like the beloved’s,

Silky hair,

Right!

Night,

Is so dark,

Like the beloved’s,

Silky hair,

Right!

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

So what are you waiting for?

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Night And Day And Night

Only the dark sky

can show a sheen like velvet

during the nighttime

The long night, one of many.

A person glances at a clock radio.

They are neither asleep nor awake.

They lie there, uncomfortable, restless.

Their mind races away, teasing them with scenarios of ruin.

The seconds tick by, slowly.

The person longs for sleep,

Or for dawn, for a new day.

An hour later, they remain awake,

Unable to relax, but unable to think properly.

The moon, near but distant, full and brooding.

The mysterious glow of light that rests upon the surface of a lake,

Casting shadows on the water.

Shapes.

Tones of colour.

The whisper of a breeze, the rustle of hedges.

The moon hides behind a cloud.

All is still.

The observer walks away.