Beaten Path. Poetry by Naseha

Song on my lips, dust on my boots, and dark night around me I take a moment;
A moment to look around as I travel the worlds unknown.
My Arabian horse – Lester, smiles at me in the light on the lantern, we are lost again
In the dense of the mossy thick forest, echoing with wing’s drone.

Genre: Rhyme, Reflective, Philosophical, Hope, Romantic

Beaten Path
by Naseha
http://www.naseha.world

Song on my lips, dust on my boots, and dark night around me I take a moment;
A moment to look around as I travel the worlds unknown.
My Arabian horse – Lester, smiles at me in the light on the lantern, we are lost again
In the dense of the mossy thick forest, echoing with wing’s drone.

The yellow parchment of my dog eared tanned leather bounded sweaty dairy;
Which I so lovely call my logs, is eagerly waiting for my ink and quill
The stars speak, the midnight has passed, I pack away the day,
As I decrease the flame, from my mouth, see the creeping wet chill

Lester is snoring; peaceful with the mossy air of forgotten foggy forest trail
After a month and half in desolated the parched land of dust
The spirit in me, forces me out of my cozy cottage filled with aroma of mushroom
To take on the paths not known, under star, sun, or fog, walk I must

Lester, my trench coat, my log, my quill as my companion, I travel to embrace
The mist of the height, the thirst of stark, the lead of unseen brook
The tame of terrain wild, the serenity of the rushing gale, warmth breath of trees
Old, knotty, patchy, all safely, frozen for eternity, in pages of my book

Off the beaten path, away from comfort of known souls, under the Canopus
On creaking, dry mattress of a thousand yellow, green, and red
Occasional ease of the stained bedding in a lonely Inn on a highway, lit by single lantern
I give in to the insanity in me, to find, to seek, on virgin gravels to tread

I close my eyes as I walk, to lose the known paths, in getting lost in terra incognita
Only then can I chance upon inebriation of charting the chartless in rife
Maybe with few silver coins in the pocket, no mansion to pass on, but richer by far
Lived a million lives with each unsung path, I chart in chronicles of my roving life

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A Remarkable Tale from the Land of Podd, Poetry by Ed Newman

In a faraway land, in the Land of Podd,
folks felt themselves each just a little bit odd.
Why in fact, not a few,
not even a dozen,
and not just a sister or uncle or cousin…
‘Twas the entire country caught under this spell,
each believed only others were anything swell,
and each felt discouraged just a smidge by his lot,
and this is what happened, believe it or not.

Genre: Humor, philosophical, hope, motivational

A Remarkable Tale
from the Land of Podd
by Ed Newman

In a faraway land, in the Land of Podd,
folks felt themselves each just a little bit odd.
Why in fact, not a few,
not even a dozen,
and not just a sister or uncle or cousin…
‘Twas the entire country caught under this spell,
each believed only others were anything swell,
and each felt discouraged just a smidge by his lot,
and this is what happened, believe it or not.

It had been a bad year, and in addition to famine
there were enemy troops on the borders of Salmon,
their unfriendly neighbors near the Mountain of Yore
and the King was near certain that his land was done for.

So he needed a messenger to save their lands
and he sought out a hero from the kingdom’s bands.
But each made excuses, for this and for that,
One said, “My hair’s funny,”
and “I can’t wear a hat.”
A second, who resisted, said his nose was too fat!

The king tried reason, and he also tried terror,
but quickly realized that the latter’s an error,
so he promptly decided to appeal to God,
’cause these were strange people, these people of Podd,
for nothing was wrong… though each thought he was odd.

The king finally saw, although quite peculiar,
that the land would be lost — including their ruler! —
if he couldn’t find someone to carry out this task,
but there seemed no one else in his land left to ask.

Yet the Kingdom was saved, it turned out in the end,
all because the king knew that to save his own skin
he would have to step down from his throne, to the street,
and even though he didn’t like his own feet,
he became a great leader by hiding it inside
and he ran ‘cross the hills to the far other side
to bring back an army or some kind of troop
to finish forever this enemy poop.

I guess that is why some are kings, some are not.
We’re all quite the same, and we’re all that we’ve got.

 

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Wishful Thinking, Poetry by Norma Passarell

It took me thirty years of suff’ring mourn, oh dear!,
To tame the fiercest beast, my dreaded loneliness.
A lifetime of gregarious wildness ’twas indeed.
I was drunk every single night; there was no light.

Genres: Delusion, Hope, Illusion, Indifference, Love, Relationships, Sadness, Sorrow, Wishful Thinking.

Wishful Thinking
by Norma Passarell

It took me thirty years of suff’ring mourn, oh dear!,
To tame the fiercest beast, my dreaded loneliness.
A lifetime of gregarious wildness ’twas indeed.
I was drunk every single night; there was no light.

With time, I learnt to be in my own company.
I then saw you and in a whisper thought, to me,
I swear, you had the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.
Hence you became my greatly loved Glaswegian prince.

Incertitude lifted me towards the sky, couldn’t sleep at night,
Then daydreamt ’bout how’d it be you kissing me throughout.
I asked you out. You said: “Why not?” But soon I knew
All was a figment of my brimful fantasy.

How ignorant I’d been! How couldn’t I see that you
Were not interested in me?! Now that you are gone,
You left me wondering how I will be alone.
Again, but even older, rejected I have been.

For now, I’ll loathe your accent on every mouth,
Even though I know it isn’t you to blame, but me,
For being too naive, and having forced you to love me.
Go away! Go away! With time, I’ll be okay!

 

 

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A MOMENT, Poetry by Oyinkan Agboola

One moment, we are a race who sees beauty in everything

The next, we have devolved into a race that sees beauty only in the vanity of appearance.

Genre:  Philosophical, Sad, Semi Inspirational, Humanity, Disappointment and a little hope.

A MOMENT by Oyinkan Agboola

 

One moment, we are a race who sees beauty in everything

The next, we have devolved into a race that sees beauty only in the vanity of appearance.

 

One moment, we speak philosophically

The next, we mock our own wise words.

 

One moment, we weep over the empty voids that are supposed to be filled with emotions.

The next, we celebrate the emptiness of the void.

 

One moment, we are so willing to fall in love

The next moment, we fear to leave the safety of the loveless heart.

 

One moment, we cling to humanity

The next, we gleefully tramp on it.

 

The moment we once again begin to see the perfection in imperfection,

The moment compassion begins to flow again in our blood,

The moment the mockery stops and the loving starts.

That is the moment we regain our humanity and lose the insanity.

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Poetry by Anne Willow

Body you’ve betrayed me

I feel no different.

Think no differently except to mind your weakness.

I want to explore,

Genre:  Life, Time, and Hope

Poetry by Anne Willow

Body you’ve betrayed me

I feel no different.

Think no differently except to mind your weakness.

I want to explore,

Start anew.

I am more than my loss.

Trying to stand is pain

And pain sleeps in the next room.

For what else could love be?

Hope grasps at me,

It’s sun filtering into my cave.

I cry out to the searching Light,

Give me youth, a new start, life in these old eyes.

 

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Poetry by Fernanda Wilt

There it is, lurking, the past

Comes smooth, quietly

And dump over them, as a wave

The damned nostalgia

Streets that run in parallel

But never find exit

Genre: love, life, romance, sad, nostalgia, and hope

Poetry by Fernanda Wilt

There it is, lurking, the past

Comes smooth, quietly

And dump over them, as a wave

The damned nostalgia

Streets that run in parallel

But never find exit

In the present what are they waiting for?

The world to go around

And to overturn your ways

So your patches will meet again

Spin world, the pivot, as it says a song

Spin, faster, hurry up

Pass the time, torment

And put them again in the right patch

In the past, wasted, nothing was build

And in the future, dreamed, is where they look for haven

There it is, gloomy, the past

Remembering the delayed present

Delaying the wanted future

 

* * * * *

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TAKE OVER ME, Poetry by CARLY ROSE

Sitting here with my racing heart, no one can hear the thoughts in my mind. Feeling confused and far away, I was crazy.

Genre: HOPE

TAKE OVER ME by  CARLY ROSE

Sitting here with my racing heart, no one can hear the thoughts in my mind. Feeling confused and far away, I was crazy.  Always feeling scared and neglected, ripped of my courage I stand rejected. All that is left is my empty heart and all these thoughts torn apart.  I feel like searching for who I am is the way to go.  I don’t know where my soul will lead me so. Somewhere out there is the place for me, I just have to try and be free. I can’t be scared I need to believe, before these thoughts take over me.

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The Poet’s Pen, Poetry by Eleanor Mell

It’s difficult dear Lord to say,

The feelings that I have today.

At times, I’m joyous with my life.

Genre: Hope-Faith

The Poet’s Pen
By Eleanor Mell

It’s difficult dear Lord to say,

The feelings that I have today.

At times, I’m joyous with my life.

At times I’m sad because the strife.

It seems I have a Poet’s pen,

A talent that has always been.

But dear Lord it makes me mad

About the words I could have had.

The songs and stories that I missed,

Because I lacked a sense of bliss.

Please forgive me for not knowing.

Lift my spirit—I’m still growing.

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FLY, Poetry by Carolyn Hucker

Inside this cage is a bird that flies high and swift.
It is bright shining and free
And fearless.

Genres: Loss, hope, redemption, wish, sad,

FLY
by Carolyn Hucker

Inside this cage is a bird that flies high and swift.
It is bright shining and free
And fearless.

Each night its earthbound body’s shed
It becomes a greater me
Limitless

It’s choices are without number,
To run or fly or just to Be.
It sparks

To cast a shadow on the clouds,
To run among the fallen leaves,
To make angels in the snow,
To climb among the summer hills
To leave the cast-off broken skin
And breathe and dance and spin
And just be that uncaged bird
Without the key of sleep.

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