Category Archives: Poets United

Reading Me…

a unknown_source_

“Shh…”
Sober command to a shattered heart.
I am trying to read.
Pensive gaze transfixed,
content with chocolate in hand,
staring into the looking-glass of my own words…
“Shh…”
I am trying to read.
“Evolve, Dear Heart,
Stay your course.
Steer your soul toward solitude.
The coming world is a lonely place for the chaotic.”
“Shh…”
“Breathe, eat your reesecup and live vividly,
as if your dreams had come alive,
because they will.
His loving proposal will come in 2018.
Avoid the convention to choose differently than I did.”
“Shh…”
“Listen to your inner voice and meditate.
It will help to prepare for losing our job in 2022,
but the transition to editor will be smoother.
P.S. the weight gain wasn’t caused by the chocolate!
It was stress, so be mindful of that too!
“Shh…”
Sober command to a fragmented mind…
I am trying to comprehend.
Would I listen and prepare?
In that moment, if known in advance…
looking into my destiny,
mirrored by my own words…
“Shh…”
Last bit of reesecup… song coming to an end…
All thoughts finally silent…
“Shh…”
Time for sleep
and silently tossed the letter aside.

©Daydreamer

This poem posted for Loneliness / Solitude3WW Week No. 415Theme Thursday for February 12, 2015 – SWEETSPoets United Midweek Motif ~ Glass(es)The Tuesday PlatformMag 258, and Poetics: A poem from the future.

Please stop by to read other poems by some great poets!

Advertisements

I Remember…

Artwork by Joseph Lorusso
Artwork by Joseph Lorusso

I remember your cologne and the way it made me feel.

I remember how the scent lingered for hours,

reminding me that I was yours;

that I had experienced some semblance of passion!

Fahrenheit…

as in one hundred degrees and rising!

I remember…

 

I remember sneaking home all those nights.

I remember the rampage dad went on when caught;

reminding me how cumbersome it was to have parents.

Too many years before adulthood and freedom.

Independence…

Three years and counting!

I remember…

 

I remember the first ring you gave me.

I remember how committed we were,

reminding me of all the years I spent chasing;

good fun-loving years, yearning…

love…

It’s all I really wanted.

I remember…

 

I remember the years of broken promises.

I remember the wasted youth,

reminding me how many nights were spend grounded;

just for a few extra moments with you.

Sacrifice…

morbid,I know,

but I remember…

 

©Daydreamer

 

Posted for Sacrifices3WW CCCXVI, Scents, Committed, Mag 155, The Poet’s Toolbox. Come and enjoy other great poets!

 

 

Elegant Seduction

Long Goodnight Kiss
Long Goodnight Kiss

 

Merciless.

Shadowed secrets

roam sidewalks… questioning.

Begging permission… forbidden fruit…

Yes or no? Enticed seduction

tastes the whispers of your lips.

Curves shimmer, flames in darkness. Embarrass innocence…

Beguiling wiles backfire, missed the long goodnight kiss.

Lady in red seduces, but still holds herself elegant.

©Daydreamer

This piece is submitted to Yes or No3WW CCCXV, Secrets, Verse First ~ One Word At a Time, “A” List Toads, and OpenLinkNight ~ Week 82.  Come see what the fun is all about!

Good Old Chair

Red Chair

I held your weight when you came home at night,

cushioning your aches in my velvet heat.

I bore the weight of your stolen dreams

while you laid your shoes at my feet.

I held all spilled tears of sorrow,

squeaked joy at each happiness,

endured every slice of ridicule,

in all weather, I withstood the test.

But I prepared for the inevitable,

though worn with age and time.

Built sturdy to last lifetimes,

I knew you’d leave me behind.

I prepared for this moment

with each move and rearrangement.

Your longer hours at work

mostly helped the estrangement.

I thought I worth was a little more,

not considered old, but antique.

Never believed some paper doll

meant more to you than me.

I believed for just a moment

that you would even dare,

to weigh the quiet moments.

Think me more than a chair.

You proved me wrong on moving day,

when baby girl stood crying at the door.

Everything packed, but you came back

to pick her paper dolly off the floor.

Doll By Bailey Powell

 

© Daydreamer

 

Submitted for dVerse Poets Pub, With Real Toads, The Mag, and Poets United.  Glad to know these great poets! Come see!

 

Incurable

Sick Woman, 1665, by Jan Steen

Friends and loved ones from miles around

sent healers and priests both insane and sound

to heal my ailment and bid death depart

but sadly, there is no cure for a broken heart.

© Day Dreamer

My post for Mag 138 and Poetry Pantry – #118.  Come link up with us! Hope to see you there!

Refund Please

Photo by Day Dreamer

How long does it take to eradicate the meaning of a life and by what gauge do we weigh it?  Hell it hurts to say it? Could you pay it?  Who would?  Five lost in a fire and there I stood.  Trying to remember and trying to forget. Regret and dying inside.   The smell, their smiles… the brokenness of bodies identified…  They ask me:  where were you?  My answer: work… but it never seems to compare.  I should have been there.  I should have known.  It still haunts me, as I look at my new ones and how they’ve grown.  I still lack the words to explain to them.   Five minutes and a pack of Newport Shorts.  News reports… Indigestion at recollection and I get so very sad.  “Mommy where are my other sisters and brothers?” How do I explain, as a Mother,  that one night when I was working…I left them with their Dad? A marriage and five angels lost… Sorry it was too high a cost…

Posted for Poetry Jam

Dreamcatchers

Sleeping with Ghost II V2 by Martyna Adela Dziekan

We filter dreams

through society’s cracked lens

hoping it lends

perspective

Insight into a world

tinged with pessimistic eyes.

Weaving between lines

of individual and acceptable.

Childhood hopes twisted

differences augmented

in that stained glass window

pa(i)ned glass window

Colored with tears

of a thousand lifetimes

lifelines sewn intricately askew

“The world is a melting pot”

Only it’s not

It’s a ball

bouncing on the ring

of disillusionment

held captive in chains

of indifference

But the young create where we demolish

they see with optimistic eyes

They are what we once were

what we shall be again

They filter our dreams through love’s rose lens

hoping it lends

peace

© Day Dreamer

Linked at Poets United