Dear Aleida, I appreciate you using your gift with poetry to start a conversation that can remind us of love's precious uncertainties and encourage us not to take each other for granted. Please keep writing.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful Villanelle on the theme of longing. Your words resonate deeply. Truly a wonderful contribution to the poetic community.
I am going to throw myself into the night just to see what happens.
I am going to take a chance, be adventurous, wild, and spontaneous
because when you live in New Orleans and summer is upon us,
you cannot help but be ready to mess stuff up and partake in the miscellaneous.
Not an itinerary, nor a plan for tonight will ever cross my mind.
No second thoughts or hesitations to waste my precious time.
I’m putting on some comfortable threads because this summer heat is far from divine.
I am going to throw myself into the night and see what adventures I get into this time.
Who needs a full moon to start your transformation, your metamorphosis to be wild, when you have the New Orleans summer vibes in effect, it is your chance to be more than mild.
Have fun, and have a ball! Hell, have two if it makes you smile.
I am going to throw myself into the night and give a new meaning to fun restyled.
Any which way the wind blows if there is fun to be had.
No Debbie Downers or party poopers, or anyone who makes this night sad,
Only people living in the moment, seizing the day with good energies make us glad.
Only if life were comprised of a community of positive energies, we would have our own island or pad.
I live my life structured enough, organized, and looking for bosses to approve.
A little spontaneity never hurt anyone when you are ready to make sudden moves.
Just be wise and always careful and live your life no matter who disapproves.
Just throw yourself into the night, make memories, and get into the groove.
Thank you for your vibrant ode to a New Orleans summer. Your words dance with longing and wisdom, inviting us to embrace both adventure and responsibility. May your celebration of life inspire many more nights of discovery. Keep weaving tales.
Check out my substack and related websites
poetdude.substack.com
tdjonespoet.weebly.com
https://www.poetspress.org/cat_tjones.shtml#voicesvoid
First Friday of every month: universal poetry zoom (Google meets)
All are welcome, especially looking for international poets (bilingual)
To join the poetry zoom this Friday February 2 at 7pm EST, click this link: https://meet.google.com/wmt-imgf-nfc
Oh how much this excites me,
but you see,
there's something inside of me
that doesn't believe
so I'm terrified
and it doesn't want me to grab your attention
but then I think
"what if I could really do it?"
then it, laughs
as if I've made a joke.
I'm serious, I say,
what if...
I could show them that I could do it?
it stops, turns
and looks my way,
if you, yes you
were so serious, as you claim to be
your statement wouldn't have come off as a question
now would it?
you see,
you're not serious,
you have the shakes,
and you stutter, and ohhhh
don't get me started with doubt
that stench, I can't breathe
it smells so...
uhh that's right,
heavenly.
next time, maybe
it says
but don't make me
have to come out
and remind you again
of how you can't do anything
come be a good girl now
and don't try
do nothing okay
Faisa, within your poem lies a challenging inner dialogue all creative souls must face.
This struggle is universal; you're not alone.
There are people routing for you.
Will do. Thank you.
What we lived is
Imprinted in my memory...
Stil, I don't take it for granted when
Love is never certain;
Like leaves, it needs water to grow,
So, let's not get tired.
This has been a great inner ride;
We both had issues to work on,
Still do, but we are better now.
We balance each other,
And blend in so well that it's a
Blessing.
I don't know what I did
To deserve this,
But use it as a vessel I will.
Waves,
By Aleida.
Dear Aleida, I appreciate you using your gift with poetry to start a conversation that can remind us of love's precious uncertainties and encourage us not to take each other for granted. Please keep writing.
Divinity
Ask not for a taste of vintage grapes,
aged as only time can do
Ask not for thy soothing melodies
of Mozart's antiqued symphonies
Ask not for the caress of worldly pleasures,
through that of earthly desires
Ask not for the lesser of two evils;
in exchange for instant gratification
Instead, be still…..
True…
Love....
Free....
Thine hearts noble quest shan't be in vain
For just as thy storm blackened thy days
Casting upon thee gloomy skies and rain
Thine own love's spark shall begin to flicker
Know, faith in thine own self is enough
To douse fuel upon thine faint glitter
What once had been hidden…..
has't now been illuminated!
Ablaze the soul
Ablaze the soul
Ignite The Fire
A fire of passion
Fierce
Roaring Sizzling
Snapping crackling
Spreading around
Emanating ascensive
The flames
With an Aurelian brilliance
Kindling the old
Worries and mistakes
Detritus of regrets
Bustling thoughts
Of low self-worth
The doubts and self-pity
Victim mentality
And thoughts
"I can't do it"
"It is impossible"
The broken hearts
The hard talks
Ablaze "The all"
Touch the pinnacle
And reduce to ashes
Laden with
Scintillating specks
Of dreamy galaxy
With a wind blowing
Whooshing swooshing
Unearthing The Hireath
Of gracing the wings
Wings of revelation
That you are
Unprecedented
Eminent beyond
Put them on
RISE
Alike Phoenix
Dear Shweta,
thank you for sharing this stirring poem which ignites the soul and lifts the spirit
A Love Not Right
You’re just a love not right
For me
I’m glad I opened my eyes
To see
The shadows of your love
So up and down
Like a fast moving merry go round
Suspended In surround sound
Kissed In silent embrace
I can’t chase
And catch you in my glove Everywhere
Evermore
It’s Ever clear
A love that’s not there
Cause I need you to care
To stare at my stare
We’re just a love that’s not right
A love of two echos in the night
Rubbing apart against a pale moonlight
The moon is a tender radiant light
To deem my already restless heart
Breaking up is a constant start
To a love to start fresh, anew
I hope true love someday finds you
Like gentlest waves crashing along the shore
I’m whispering to my heart
No more
No more
From a love that’s not right
I poured all my grief into the ocean,
certain she would overflow.
Instead, she softly kissed my feet
and whispered, "I know."
Secular Religion
I am having a hard time.
I took some time to rest.
A week among nature and peace. A time of beauty.
The Shakers – old friends – welcomed me back.
The last time I was here was six years ago for one week.
Brother Arnold lists his occupation as ‘Religious Brother,’ which caused confusion for a health insurance claim involving an accident with a pig.
A funny image, like a man of God in line at the DMV. But men of God need licenses.
Brother Arnold let me borrow his car. I am not a man of God. I have a license.
Needing spiritual healing but absent faith in any religion, I have turned my attention to words.
I need grounding.
The dictionary, a type of secular bible. The word for ‘book’ in many languages related to ‘bible’.
I find peace and solace studying words, etymology, usage, and meaning.
The English language a safe haven for my troubled soul.
I study my religious texts at Sabbathday Lake where Shakers since the 18th century have studied theirs.
I am taking pleasure in carefully constructing nonsense and then turning it into sense.
“I am having a license,” by itself meaningless, would become “I am having a license to not be OK.”
I am having a license to not be OK.
Books That Were Never Mine
The Library
Enrich in the mornings and befriended in the evenings.
Looking at the mirror of life.
The thoughts in my mind that can never be open.
Become lonely of nights of long ago.
All hopes and dreams are suddenly a reality.
Seeing times changing and suffering that doesn’t seem to drain.
The library of love.
Full of books that I have never read.
Searching threw them for strength to carry on.
But finding hope that seems to die and eyes that have no more tears to cry.
Going through lives a thousand times a minute.
Knowing that these souls would never love me.
I even up on the floor, recycling books I read before.
Flashing through the pages
Knowing it’s my responsibility to take all the blame.
Envisioning my past become my future and my future becoming never.
Finally, I found the one that I used to care for.
But my heart couldn’t remember the last words I said.
So I just closed the book on that chapter
Now I realize that this love will never end.
Saying to myself that this loneliness is only temporary.
In this room full of souls.
Trying to look for categories I thought I needed.
Knowing that type of love I envisioned.
Would only pass me once in a lifetime.
Have I Not the Capacity to be Loved?
Have I not
earned love
enough?
Have I not
the Respect
that taught
to me by
The Wisdom
from words
tasted
by ears long ago?
I once a boy
raised child
a young’n who
given to him
hope.
He never less
than that
a person
of fear his
beating heart
come first;
first if only,
Concepts
and
Ideas,
overslept this day’s
race.
Where beckons
is I
why
with eyes tear-
filled cries to learn
only to know
my place is
now.
And then still
was not to
overstep
nor shall
I second-
guess the place
I first slept,
in a bed were
the fading
Memories
of
Toughened
up
Trust.
Now only stains
the paint rusts away
no warmth where
once slept
Memory’s child.
Once was there room
to unlocked
doors?
Ones that opened
up from what was
once inner places
morphed
outer space?
ney say they lived now
Emotions sunk
through mud lust and drugs but once there was
a home,
Am I wrong?
From them the
daze
long gone yet
there was sang
they of songs sung
a place
once it was
called
home.
Filled with miracles
long-lasting
and
an abundance
of
Trust
and
Love.
Hello everyone. I am so glad to come accross this pure heaven for lovers of poetry.
Here's a Villanelle I wrote on Longings:
Longing for a place unknown,
warm memories of said land;
Hungry heart.
Looking through a barren space,
Unsure of what I want;
Longing for a place unknown.
Trying to fit-in,
Going through unnecessary lengths for acceptance;
A hungry heart.
Birds chirping on their trees,
Butterflies fluttering in an invisible plane;
It's my longing for an unknown place.
Lost in incomprehensible thoughts,
Human connection may bring comfort; thus
My heart is hungry.
I fail then try and look at sky,
In desperation turning to art.
In longing for a place unknown,
A hungry heart.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful Villanelle on the theme of longing. Your words resonate deeply. Truly a wonderful contribution to the poetic community.
Thank you:))
The wild flower...
You, my girl, be like a wildflower...
And yes, it might not have the prettiest tinge to the eye.
And sure, it may not have the softest petals to touch.
And definitely, its stalk is all twisted and gnarled at the rustle of the wind.
And yes, I know, its lingering smell may not even be smoochable.
And of course, on its perfume, no one may ever be drunk.
But my darling, the wildflower...
It will still grow in the shadowiest places and in maiden valleys, where nothing ever grew.
And it may make its way through the stoniest ground, where nothing ever rose from.
And it will dance through the angriest winds, where nothing has ever remained unstrewn.
Will bloom at the warmth of the hands that unfurled it, and the feet that trampled up on it.
May flutter even under the naked skies of deserts, where no foot has ever found itself in.
And this, my love, should be more than enough...
For you, bewilder the scariest storms,
that they can't last long enough to drown the seeds in you.
For you, scare the scorching droughts,
that they can't be harsh enough to perch the dew on you.
For you, shame the freezing winters,
that they quiver at your feet, for they can't touch the softness in you.
For you, tremble the sleeping earth,
that it can't tame and cage you in, and hold in the wildness of you.
For you, my girl,
you make the stars envy the magic in you,
for you can bloom without their light...
Beautiful
Thought droplets fill mind drains searching for ways to form words.
So much I need you to hear,
So little you want me to be heard.
My silence allows your conscience to sleep,
Numb to feeling your guilt as I weep.
The disguise you've carefully created so,
It fits perfectly worn on your ego.
is carefully hung and hidden in deceit,
after each unfaithful mission you complete.
I need to tell you what I found,
while you hid in your denial cage underground
No truth can be found,
When you're not around.
You make it clear distance is preferred,
exposing why to it, you are bound.
My intention to know the truth remains,
without resolution, it remains the same.
You say I should give you my trust,
but you really mean automatic forgiveness.
Thoughts form into words as they fall from my mind space where memory cries.
I try to ignore the tears that fill my eyes.
They continue to build as you continue to lie.
My mouth feels sewn shut I can only cry.
Emotional pressure inside me needs release,
My voice can only express a small gesture,
I want and need the truth,
Instead, you give me a "trust me' lecture.
Your lies continue because you're my honesty thief,
You take from me what I deserve, at the least.
To know the truth so from you I can fully release.
Is what I ask for, I beg for, please.
Emotionally bleeding,
to myself, I am pleading,
to stop feeling and move on.
To believe I am strong,
to mend this broken heart of mine.
but until I leave you, I will not find,
someone honest, faithful and kind.
I can't go back, time can not rewind.
Anger and sadness refill my mind,
Back to the place I began when I,
tried to speak as thoughts multiplied.
My voice will not speak, I really tried.
Unspoken words remained,
strangled inside.
Rizzy,
The struggle for honesty, trust, and emotional release is palpable. You've done a compelling job conveying complex feelings.
Thank you!
Soul For Mind
A Fair trade?
A silence in floors Of faculty
Wooden walls and concrete ground
Accompanied by wind
We call ourselves philosophers
Always thirsty for The Truth
Always hungry for The Knowledge
And yet Silence now is broken
Debate over sin of bloodshed
In Slavic regions of the East
Too many hearts are broken
Too many tiers had dropped
War never been a joke to man
And yet fist cliches in my anger
Boiling blood is in the veins
For them, it is a game of chess
Dabate of strategy and mind
Forgetting all the bones of broken
Such cold-blooded people
Turn to pests and insects
Same as the bald man on a wicked throne
They never knew the service
They had never seen the blood
For them, it is a puppet show
In the theatre called life
So curse those self-claimed gods
And even if I never be a scholar
Another Socrates or even Plato
I will never laugh about the blood
Throw Myself into the Night
I am going to throw myself into the night just to see what happens.
I am going to take a chance, be adventurous, wild, and spontaneous
because when you live in New Orleans and summer is upon us,
you cannot help but be ready to mess stuff up and partake in the miscellaneous.
Not an itinerary, nor a plan for tonight will ever cross my mind.
No second thoughts or hesitations to waste my precious time.
I’m putting on some comfortable threads because this summer heat is far from divine.
I am going to throw myself into the night and see what adventures I get into this time.
Who needs a full moon to start your transformation, your metamorphosis to be wild, when you have the New Orleans summer vibes in effect, it is your chance to be more than mild.
Have fun, and have a ball! Hell, have two if it makes you smile.
I am going to throw myself into the night and give a new meaning to fun restyled.
Any which way the wind blows if there is fun to be had.
No Debbie Downers or party poopers, or anyone who makes this night sad,
Only people living in the moment, seizing the day with good energies make us glad.
Only if life were comprised of a community of positive energies, we would have our own island or pad.
I live my life structured enough, organized, and looking for bosses to approve.
A little spontaneity never hurt anyone when you are ready to make sudden moves.
Just be wise and always careful and live your life no matter who disapproves.
Just throw yourself into the night, make memories, and get into the groove.
Copyright ©Le Voir N. Lewis 2023
All rights reserved.
Thank you for your vibrant ode to a New Orleans summer. Your words dance with longing and wisdom, inviting us to embrace both adventure and responsibility. May your celebration of life inspire many more nights of discovery. Keep weaving tales.