FlexWriters Creative Network

Check them out!

https://sites.google.com/a/currencylit.com/cur-ren-cy/r-g-johnson

A foreingner, an heir to disembark,
sails Heaven surrendering his release.
A boy seeking his entitlement fare,-
Meandering commencements of tomorrow's year-
Pulsing beat silenced the drudgery.

Composing the waves in flight,
tresspassing the night.
The eventide became
A life of a man who pursues.

(c)Naomi Oliver

[10,000+] (c)

Olde world jukeboxes
playing ''Golden Ringlets''
an infamous melody-
before you, or I were delivered
Quilted smoke
replaces the essence
of a biological age
as anonymous people pass by
mirthless, by the hour of day

Time has worn itself thin
scoured the cracks in the walkways
spiraling pieces of metal stripped
from humankind, clouds weep
from break of dawn to sundown
unable to face life in the eyes

People have accustomed themselves
to not feeling, not exhibiting emotion
They have allowed themselves to tumble
through soft hollows-
unable to influence the content
pandemonium driven smiles- travel limitless
without a slate to maintain beyond

The four-letter word called love
is not the same as its' definition
You have designed, built, and disfigured
its' true destiny
Filling it with hatred
absent eruptions
masked over touches
and colored it black

There are no windows, or doors
for it to peer through
You took its' wind, the breath of eternity-
filing it in paper drawers
hiding it in a kingdom that does not exist
Burying it so deep that it suffocates itself
until its' dignity loses its' shape

There is no mold to love
there are no returns, or exchanges
of its meaning
It is not meant to be held
or confined to a shadowy cave floor
It should not be cold, wet, or shivering.

I have to apolige for not being around for things lately.  This has been a rough year health wise.  I finally found some treatment for one issue and ended up on a wild ride in an aid car to ER and overnite for another.  I am doing ok so no worries.  I know I am going to be around for a long time, I just wish my body wouldn't put up such a fuss.  But I have already been through a lot and survived so I know I can again.  Attitude of Gratitude and a good attitude towards life. 

It is funny the writer in me could not shut down even on the ride down.  And after being beat up badly at the hospital(they were great BUT, oh my), I came home and immediately wrote this poem.  Hopefully I am gaining back some energy and will try to get back to this great site.  Hope you enjoy!  Now remember this was written under a lot of stress and fear.  LOL!  I think we all fear hospitals and I especially fear needles and boy oh boy, I had three or four lines in me all nite.  OUCH! 

All the ride was wild I am so grateful!

TO ALL THE FIREMEN AND WOMEN AND PARAMEDICS OUT THERE

THANK YOU FOR ALL YOU DO!

 

Fireman and Paramedics save many lives.

That is why they are here you should realize.

They come like lightning to help you night or day,

They show up out of nowhere in their own caring way.

It could be a fire or a heart attack.

It could be nothing but they won’t turn back.

They are strong and face danger when they have to.

They are gentle and kind when they work on you.

You could be strong or crying like a child.

They still treat you with caring all awhile.

They make sure your calm and check you out.

They speed around with attention to see what it is about.

And if it seems your life is slipping out to that last edge.

They help you immediately they do not hedge.

And even if it looks like you are ok,

If there is a doubt to the hospital they take you anyway.

They stay with you till they see you are cared for,

Helping the doctors with information and more.

Do you ever stop to think what they constantly see?

How many horrible things in life that can be?

And yet they smile and say kind words.

So that you feel safe during what has occurred.

And how about risking their own lives they are willing to do?

They do it without hesitation even not knowing me or you.

So next time you see them flying down the road.

Move your car over and follow the code.

And make sure to think a kind thought.

You never know when your last-minute you bought.

And don’t you feel good knowing they act as one.

To change that outcome to a new minute won.

Make sure you smile when walking by.

Make sure to tell them you are glad they try.

Because when you need them they are there.

They come to save you when you are scared.

They not only do it, they do it and care.

They do it with pride and they know it’s been rough.

To SAY THANK YOU would never be enough

A foreigner, an heir to disembark,
sails Heaven surrendering his release.
A boy seeking his entitlement fare,-
Meandering commencements of tomorrow's year.
Pulsing beat silenced the drudgery.

Composing the waves in-flight,
trespassing the night.
The eventide became
A life of a man who pursues.

(c)Naomi Oliver 

Lazy morning
Lasting into afternoon
Looking for enough energy

To walk the dog

Daft expression
On both our faces
Only one of us needs to poo

Hope I make it to the mini-mart

Somebody asked me about, process
Someone else about, form
I don’t know

And don’t give a fuck

Not in a mean way
Or a selfish way

Agonizing
Aggrandizing
Agog …………………..Way

Neither an artistic way
See: Selfish

It just doesn’t matter
It’s already been done
Different facade
Dissimilar chimera

Everyone with a Faux Paux
Pet peeve
Raging opinion

Rachel was an accountant
She wore her Jewishness
Like a badge of guilt and fury
She left me when I told her
I didn’t file taxes

Oddly,
She used a pine coffin as a coffee table

Tastefully adorned
Coasters and magazines
Candles and…

One of those peg games

You keep hopping over pegs
Until only one remains
It supposed to be a mind stimulator

But mine just shut down
Quiet-like
Staring at one lonely peg
Hoping that hopping
Would bring me an answer

I realized there wasn’t one

A strange place
To find illusive truth

Sometimes when it drizzles in the country you feel the prickle of the slightest fresh dew hitting your face, bringing you alive in the quiet calming peace that wraps you in nature’s security.  It’s soothing to your mind, your soul, your senses, making everything tingle with life bringing a smile to you all over.  The cool drizzle cleans and cools.  It softens all the harshness of the day.   

………………………………………………………

 
In the morning the noise of birds singing and the soft cool breeze blowing thru the trees, surround you, calm you, inside and out. 

 

………………………………………………………

 

In the country when I want a moment of peace…

I step outside with no chance of it being broken except by a bug….

 

………………………………………………………

 

 

My favorite time in the country

 

I love early summer mornings in the country.

          Quiet except for the peaceful chatter of the birds

          The air is fresh, cool and clean.

The sun plays peek- a -boo thru the trees coming up higher to shine over it all.

          Its feeling is warm and soothing.

           

I sometimes think that is my favorite time in the country.

 

          But then I think of the cool crisp air and

          the changing of the colors to let us know

fall has arrived with all its glory in rich deep gold, reds and oranges like fireworks bursting out everywhere you look.

 

I sometimes think that is my favorite time in the country.

 

And then the air gets so cold especially at night, it is so crisp you can see your breath….

The stars fill the sky like millions of brilliant diamonds.  The sky is such a rich deep dark blue making it endless to the eye.          

The snow blankets the ground and all is asleep, quite and resting.

 

I sometimes think that is my favorite time in the country.

 

        Then of course there is the birth of all new
        life and flowers and buds of brilliant    
color coming up everywhere with the warmth of a new a sun melting away the winter blanket, waking everything up, bringing new hope.

 

I sometimes think that is my favorite time in the country.

 

But maybe it’s just that my favorite time is being in the country with all its splendor and beauty and peace.

 

 

 

twisting  cords and creeping vines

 

wrapped round Celtic knots signal the intermingling

 

of memetics and flesh,  grounding new horizons

 

enfolded in reveries envisioned in golden

 

as realities unfold in the gray and shadow

 

        of our humanity

 

 

 

  spectre crosswinds spoke in ancient foreboding

 

    their tongues brushing against the grain,

 

as our templates revealed us,

 

    the shadow selves we had hidden

 

 become exposed in the blaze and gold

 

    of a hundred transient sunrises

 

 

 

I offered the starlight on my fingertips

 

in exchange for the splinter wedged in the center places

 

    hoping it would be enough

 

 

 

      a super nova left a dead star

 

within the asphalt partitions where I ran my fingers

 

    trying to ease the ache

 

 my skin peeling across the jagged edges

 

      remaining unspecified  and nameless

 

forgotten in the black hours of darkness

 

    where the bleeding washed over what remained

 

  …. necrotic

 

 

 

bathing in the crimson stream

 

wild birds flew over the rinsing waterfalls

 

     their squalling echoes declarations of mourning

 

while what was fallow slid downstream amongst

 

    the silt and desecrated bones

 

embedded in unhallowed ground,

 

    …a banquet for the dead

 

 

 

a new dawning stretched soft over tomorrow

 

I looked for your gaze in the eyes of strangers

 

      knowing we would take part in it all

 

         one more time

 

      …… until the pieces fit

 

 

© Katherine Wyatt 2011