PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A field before my feet.

The smell of wild flowers; my nose to steep.

Stems adorned with color, glimmering in the exhausted sun.

Waltzing amongst my fingertips; legs eager to run.

There's a shadow near the woods.

Quite a distance, from where I stood.

Gliding, like I sprouted graceful wings.

Twirling winds; in my ears do ring.

A pure familar fragrance, lingering in the air to find.

Something sweet on lips, I've somehow left behind.

The silence of the woods, hum in mysterious concern.

There you stood, a fire in me to burn.

Blossoming in daring flames.

Two souls, a mirror; the same.

Envision freedom as a circle spanning three hundred and sixty degrees

And sitting at the circle’s center you are at liberty to swivel and tilt at will

Mesmerized by the seemingly limitless opportunities that beckon

Within each degree a fountainhead suffused with vocation

And you are at liberty to choose among many choices

Without incarceration, custody or constraint

A path imbued and pregnant with destiny

And though you must endure sacrifice to excel

Born to love and felicity

The only obstacle before you

Is to leap without reservation along a path already foreordained with peace and prosperity

But

Such liberties remain the preserve of kings and queens, lords and noblemen

And few among us inherit such glory

And you are not among them

Your pitiful birthright barely spans a degree of opportunity

And you will always peer into the warm from the cold outside

A swaddling cast upon a landscape of turgid black-peppered earth

A pauper not a prince, an enslaved soil tiller not a king

A birthright so pitiful you barely command a grain of sand from deserts sweeping so vast

Nor can you imbibe a single drop of water from oceans wet and ebbing

Bound by societal chains, suppression, racism and misogyny

A destiny hijacked and shackled to invisible nemesis

And after endless toil you are overcome by exhaustion and lassitude

Your subaltern fate draws ever nearer

A sheaf waiting for the sickle

But

Sudden like a stowaway

Escaping from a labyrinth of barricaded opportunity

A solitary voice breaches the ramparts of darkness without supplication

A message so powerful and pure it radiates outwards across the universe

Into hearts that have long ceased to yearn

And woebegone souls that have long ceased to dream

And awaking from your poverty induced stupor

Freedom becomes your final act of rebellion from mental slavery

And with the liberty dreamer now awakened within you

You possess the key to a circle of opportunity suffused with vocation

By Peter J. Middlebrook

I am a shadow, long gone
I am forgotten, disappointments spawn
I am the weeping, in nights silent hour
From society, who savors the sour
I am the dark, stuck within my fears
I am denied, to them and all who hears
I was a dreamer, now hiding within my sleep
From the all of the promises that I can not keep
I am a shadow, long gone

I loved, and I loved you well.
Even after you challenge me hell
I remember, she parted us, you and I
She kissed your cracks, promising you lies
She left you broken, by the dead
But me, I wanted you by my side, to cherish instead

What happens to A Dreamer Deferred?

Do they live in a constant state of fear
Like a criminal who committed a crime ?
Or go off like a bomb

in the space of time?

Does it kill them to know that life isn't fair?
Or does it push one to the verge
of despair?

Maybe it just cuts
like a knife.

Or does it end a life?

I was innocent once, before I
was born...
Now I am guilty of sins and
counting-
My wings stayed in the garden
of Eden, salvation revoked...
Now I toke the good herb from
Mother Earth, sometimes I
reach heaven's door and knock...
knock, knock! but no one
answers, "They are probably
still asleep."
I am a crazy diamond shinning
across the sky...
In my past life, I was a Quiche'
Warrior giving praise to the
Plum Serpent-
In this life, I am fighting for
survival, hiding from the
'Tigers that broke free'...
An ocean of sorrow washed
away my home, now it sits on
top of a mountain, made out of
glass-
Keep your sticks and stones,
they might brake my house-