Author: poetryfest

To easy my heart, I shed these tears of sorrow
What once was, now memories for tomorrow

Holding on to what could have, should have been by chance
Yearning for your tender touch, your caress, a familiar glance

I am left alone surrounded by this devastating desire
In a world gone still with emptiness of what you inspired

Knowing there should have been so much more
Had we had the time our hearts had planned for

If given one last chance to share with one another
To have one more moment to hold on to each other

How can it be a life so young with much yet to give?
Should be over with the light gone from which to live?

Please tell me how to ease this mournful pain
Of what transpires will fill this void again?

I walk away, never alone, my heart filled with sorrow
What should have been, now memories for tomorrow

http://www.GrinOlsson.com

In the darkest hour of the night,
Are seven stars that shine so bright.
Their light is beauty in the sky,
Surely, God’s hand holds them high.

The group of stars about which I speak,
Are named the “Big Dipper” by those whom seek.
North, is the first glitter that you will see,
By using the “Big Dipper” as your key!

Yes,, as the guide to find this star,

CLOUD CLOUD CLOUD…
COME DOWN…
COULD I…
CLIME ABOARD.

CAN YOU TAKE ME…
CAMPING IN THE SKY…
COMPANION YOU WILL BE…
COME ON DOWN TO ME.

CAN’T BE TOO SOON…
CAN NOT WAIT…
CAN KISS YOUR BLESSING…
CAN CELEBRATE YOUR PRESENCE.

CLOUD, CLOUD, CLOUD…
COME TAKE ME AWAY…
CONTINUE WITH YOUR JOURNEY…
CONDITION BEFORE YOU DISAPPEAR.

They say Texas Sally had the magic touch.
So many women owed her, oh, so very much.
They say she made maids virginal again.
Turned troubled girls contrite, more than they’d ever been,

Turned their lips redder, turned their cheeks pink,
Made their figures shapelier than ever you would think.
Their eyes seemed somehow wider and much more prone to tears.
She turned waifs into women way beyond their years.

She didn’t pry who done it, or what their stories were.
She never talked about it and never cast a slur.
Few menfolk knew her name, not even those who came,
But when she died, the women cried and mourned her all the same.

A pea in the pod. A bun in the oven.
If you’re in the puddin’ club, but ain’t feelin’ lovin’
Look up Texas Sally, and go pay her a call.
The Good Lord will forgive, if maybe not the law.

She stood four feet in heels, couldn’t read or write,
Had not many skills, but worked well in low light.
She had tiny, thin fingers and a tiny, thin arm,
Delicate touch, soothing voice, always soft and warm.

No client ever left her disappointed or betrayed.
No lawmen ever raided, no payoffs needed paid.
She had a thriving business and a steady clientele.
Who’d harass a blind old lady whom so many loved so well?

They say she was an orphan with native tribal roots,
A long-forgotten lady whom today’s woman salutes.
She forged a tiny niche, though she was never renowned.
No wonder that she died the richest gal in town!

A pea in the pod. A bun in the oven.
If you’re in the puddin’ club, but ain’t feelin’ lovin’
Look up Texas Sally, and go pay her a call.
The Good Lord will forgive, if maybe not the law.

http://www.haydenbownds.com

The Breeze, vision and vocals are the symphony; a life of cacophony.
Our minds, thoughts and faculties are the metronome of symmetry.

In sync and designated for Perfect harmony.
A whisper or a shout, a wave or an embrace, all a culmination of physicality.
Stare deep into the soul of melancholy – a shell of similitude. A replica of what will do.

A craft of severance, a sheer slip in happenstance, a flippant glance of remembrance.
Lost in circumstance, revitalized without a chance.
Aloof and fuddled in ineptitude circumvents relevance – gleaming for something better understood.

Trying to approximate our existence in measures of dates and occurrences leads us further from the promises.
A life void of destitute situations, spawned by oracular vibrations.

The wind and words are the sound of decisions observed through the imperial lens of confusion.
Our heads keep spinning with the deity that’s most trendy and what couldn’t save the ancient empires from sinking.

Volumes of thoughts surfacing. Where am I, what’s happening? I can hear it – someone’s speaking.
An echo of the world’s catastrophes, the undulating quake of epiphany.

The shimmering strobe is electrifying. It shouts thunderously through the void, penetrating the waning reluctance intensely.
It engulfs my everything, filling my being intrinsically.

The blood, the water, the life force that keeps my heart beating; your the source that keeps my eyes seeing.
The accolade of camaraderie. The absolute origin of everything.

Movements, thoughts, speech the delicate imbuement of things real or imaginary.
A well spring of inspiration, a spirit of information; seeking you springs a youth of education.

Through the waves roaring or the leaves rustling; it’s up to no one but me to decide if I’m listening.
Real or faux, the splendor of the unknown elicits hope. A subsidiary of grandeur a sense of carnality; a familiarity of duality. Someone who illustrates the fundamentals of caring.

Wake up. Realize your prominence is deafening. Maybe we’ve always existed and we’re just waiting for something to breathe us into affirmation. An answer that reveals the belief or question; it’s the epoch of infatuation.

Love, Lust and Betrayal are at the center of life’s devastations, but if we look upon you, we’ll unequivocally recognize that we aren’t bound by deluded limitations.

You are the creator and we are all of your creations.
Soon enough all knees will bow and every eye will see, we aren’t shackled and struggling, we are free.
In you we are free.

I have autism which makes me special just like you
I have weaknesses and strengths too

I want you to know things, that may be hard for me to show
Please be patient with me and help me grow

Life may be filled with people, but it’s hard to approach
Sports, I like to play, but never the right coach

Noises and sounds can be too much to hear
I’ll gladly accept you covering my ears

Some fabrics of clothing can cause pain to my body that’s so severe
Please don’t touch me without asking or stand too near

I may be socially awkward because I’m usually alone
But that’s not a choice, I made on my own
I may think a bully wants to be my friend
I struggle to start conversation and don’t know where to end

I may need an aid, a schedule and/or routine
I may think you’re friendly when you’re actually mean

My brain doesn’t develop the same way as yours
Some food I won’t eat due to its texture or more

I may have a meltdown that could last or fly by
I want to tell you but don’t understand why

Something you say I may misunderstand
I’d rather you show me so I can understand
I am very smart, but may need some extra help too
It may be hard to participate in the same things you do

If you see me sitting alone, I don’t want to be
It’s hard to ask, but I’d be happy if you joined me

I’d love to be your friend, I really do
But I don’t know how and need some help from you

I may have autism and sensory issues too
That may make me different, but never less than you

It’s a crime

It’s a crying shame

We commit atrocities

It’s not an anomaly

For trivial reasons

We’ve murdered trillions

Why remain on the fence?

When innocence is a punishable offence

Animals in peril

Animals free from danger

Which is stranger?

We are who they fear

We are who they trust

Being friends is a must

The deep-rooted sadness of the deserted streets
The familiar incense scent at the Kali temple
little girls in red and yellow saris
the punctual evening chatwala with his oil lamp lit
the addictive melancholia the joy, the warmth
the climbing tomatoes in my grandmother’s garden
the trail of fallen leaves
My city is home

Poem by Chandrani Banerjee

When my daughter smiles, a new world unravels at her feet.
When my daughter stares at me with wonder, my heart breaks into a thousand pieces and heals all at once.
My daughter brings sunshine and rain. She summons angels and gathers fairies. Flowers blossom at her touch, lilies and daisies.
My daughter is a butterfly. She blinks, the world surrenders.

I saw you in my bedroom, when I was just a boy
You’d come at night
Turn out the light
Call me your pride and joy

Your visits never lasted long, you were a busy guy
My days were full
I went to school
I’d see you passing by

We’d sometimes get together, and stop to shoot the breeze
But it grew rare
Good times to share
Were few and far between

I’m looking back at what we had
And what it could’ve been
Who knew one day we’d stop and say
I wish you were my friend
If we try before I die
We might at least pretend
That there is love between us
Let’s seize the day again

I heard you moved to Vegas, and found yourself a wife
It made me glad
To hear you had
A promising new life

Our phone calls were important, once or twice a year
They made it feel
Like you were real
Before you’d disappear

You said that you would visit, and spend some decent time
But times were tough
And sure enough
We fell into the grind

I’m looking back at what we had
And what it could’ve been
Who knew one day we’d stop and say
I wish you were my friend
If we try before I die
We might at least pretend
That there is love between us
Let’s seize the day again

When I finally saw you, old and frail and gray
Your fading spark
It touched my heart
That time had slipped away

I didn’t come to hurt you, or saddle you with grief
The blame we spilt
And all that guilt
Made life seem really brief

I came to hold your hand Dad, before I let you go
You’ve always meant a lot to me, I just want you to know

I’m looking back at what we had
And what it could’ve been
Who knew one day we’d stop and say
I know you were my friend
If we try before I die
We might let our hearts mend
Cuz there is love between us
Let’s seize the day again