Allegory Poems (898)

Now touching on this isolation writing
I touch it now I am the daylight fighting.

This winter's day of clouds grey overcast
To wait a week or two just to outlast.

I've found something that I could not say
Favor romance on a dismal day.

Something in my heart becomes uncertain
I wish that I could be a better person.

I think of my soul and its incarnations
I think of drugs debasing kids and nations.

I think about my lost Arcadian dream -
My consciousness just currents down a stream.

I wish that I could find my better half
In this waiting game that is my life.




© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

deep past the arrival of eve's night
long after the throng of the city's holiday paraders have gone
he is left far from the crowd, hopelessness his only companion
the avenues mostly still, mostly silent
the homeless panhandler remains in an alley
set against a structure where exhaust vents release warmth from below
he is posed for yet another long night's passing
the only place available to him where a freezing death may not find him
sleep may or may not come for him
half a bottle of wine might offer some comfort, for a short while anyway
as he sips his salvation, he journeys in mind
on a road traveled often, destination never to be found
where his future may lead him, he knows not
it seems that he has always merely tried to last into the following day
with a grimace he muses of tomorrow
when the sun rises next, it will be christmas day
not the best of days for him
truth be told, it could be only the worst
for he knows very well what this will mean
that his usual routine of finding nourishment will not exist
there will be no bakeries tossing out old bread
no eateries filling trash dumpsters with food deemed unfit for customers
only a mere fragment of passers-by from whom to solicit
but most folks crossing his path on this day will be just like him
with little to offer, not even a smile
snapping out from his speculation, he hunkers down upon the grate
trying to escape the bitter cold winds that seem to blow through him
he has found something to concentrate on
this is all that he has
so, we should all take this little tale to bed with us tonight
and recall it tomorrow as we enjoy our great feasts
in the warm comfort of home, with family and friends
for under the fate of circumstance
…every man could be a homeless man

"Oh! Plenty wars, to seek, with eager men to die,
As many weaken hearts, to spread by peace, a lie,
With filled minds of wrath and empty mouths of blood,
With wicked whispers near, as far as weapons flood
The same old wrecked world where tyrants rule and thrive
The everlasting crowd – and o, alas! At last!! Who feels alive?!
The dim over the candle, which spread the lofty dreams
Among those shadows – lost – in such a sprout of beams,
The ripple softly falling, of golden cup’s beheading,
When fiercy swords are drawn, for jewels fall when shedding?..
Or maybe broken bones, for masters, and cruel laws for tyrants,
As well as lots of aces rise to crush such heap of ants,
- If not – why not?! – more stones, to build the shrines for giants
Which never seems to end the poison among plants?!..
Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no! There’s no one, left alive,
To tell the story further for ears that strive to listen
Such nonsense of a mirror from which the whispers glisten
Around the edges, death – this blade who guards the hive;
There’s nothing else to raise, for heads that lies beneath
A truth that’s long forgotten, replaced by some gods
Which often show at wars, to spill more blood – such odds! –
Where wrath had sunk already, like ivy changes heath;
Without a fear of dying, there’s one, among the ravens
That lurks around these realms, to mourn, to weep, to yell:
From death, to life, the bard’s awoken spirit, - look!!
Where silence seems to cure, had nothing else to tell!.."
(extract from "The Quotes Garden" 2017-2019)
©Th3Mirr0r

it took forever to my find my forever
a metaphorical mooring by sea
it was a tougher search to find her
and if you’d ask her I’m sure she’d agree

the beach is a natural kilometre
I trusted the distance by guile
we planned our dream house together
I knew that she’d furnish in style

at 5am each morning
as the dew makes kings of the grass
I’m stretching and preparing to enter
a sea that’s the colour of glass

the gulls sing high pitched and often
plunging and rising again
a fox is eating my flip flops
and discovers they’re more than size 10

I sit on the rocks when I’m done in
and chase my breath till I see
a cup of hot steaming coffee
improbably right next to me

they said misfortune stalked you.. they said that life was hard
in the genetic school of poker
you were dealt the hardest card

a rogue gene: you misshapen henceforth they would detect
but all I see is beauty
in the poster I inspect

it was hard for me to process
I was new in town
I'd left a girl for the colour
of a certain wedding gown

she wanted picket fences
guess I was too remote
the only berth to interest me
was on a fishing boat

then I saw you in this poster
your eyes two drops of rain
I saw a man recoil from you
as if you held some blame

you followed me around town
I saw your face amongst the stars
I began to see you everywhere
in the licence plates of cars

you removed the night's wallpaper
to paint the air with sky
your beauty far too certain
to entertain a lie

so thank you girl for the memory
of the sky that melted blue
and all the pieces of your person.. stuck together with God's glue

I later met a Finnish angel
who photographed the wind
I sometimes see you in her work
as joy and kindness twinned

a lubberline in rougher seas
a searing bolt of spark
a poster hung inside my head
a friend in times of dark

she was crying
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me

her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt

yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue

I spent a fortune
on her hull
I slept beneath
the dawning gull

weeping wounds
carved by years
open sores
wept salted tears

a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
lifts every boat

and I rescued her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear

yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay

less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few

the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire of me
"Why?"

this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can

I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last

they failed to stop
and read the signs
they saw no beauty
in her lines

the day was sketched
time added air
with roughened strokes
in spaces

the sea inhaled
sands grew
around memories
bivouacked

a swept stroke emblazoned
on a hidden horizon
counterbalanced
by the edges

mushroom umbrellas bloom
licked by salt
and the rays
of technique

lines and curves
superimposed
over
whiteness

and the shell of us
stretched
by the crab
of ennui

I thought you were made
of grey texture
a thick impasto
dipped in methylate

we meandered on wet canvass
pursued
by deadline

viewed by
strangers
within
and without

hanging
in isolation

our own chiaroscuro

JOY OF LIVING
Joyous is this dance we call life, vibrant and profound,
A brilliant canvas painted with experiences, love truly found.
The morning sun peels away the night's slumber, full of grace,
Each ray of light, a tender kiss on the awakening world's face.

A melody dances in the wind, whispering secrets of delight,
Lifting spirits, stirring hearts, in the day and under moonlight.
Emerald fields sway gently, echoing laughter and songs,
Under the open azure skies, where every dream belongs.

Rivers of moments flow, each a unique, sparkling gem,
Infusing our lives with love and joy, each day a new anthem.
Ah, the sweet intoxication of life's wine, so heady and profound,
Underneath the starry canopy, where dreams and love are found.

Glistening dew on a rose, the perfume of life's enchantment,
It tells a tale of joy and love, of soulful contentment.
Vivid is the song of life, in its every radiant hue,
In its every note, it sings the joy of existence anew.

Delight dances in our hearts, as we celebrate life's song,
It's a dance of love, a dance of joy, where we all belong.
Venturing forward, hand in hand, beneath the sun's warm glow,
Infused with the melody of life, allowing our hearts to flow.

Revel in the joy of existence, in its laughter and its tears,
It's a celebration of love and life, echoing through the years.
Navigating through this vast, beautiful dance, both wild and tame,
Gather the moments of joy and love, for that is life's ultimate game.

Within the blood-red nature of this rose,
Runs sap of life - without impediment,
A scarlet ruffle, in the sunshine grows,
Amidst the thorns of our bewilderment,
That blooms in Spring, before the Winter snows,
Banish Autumn, and the flowers' raiment,
To Time;- as long forgotten love affairs;-
Her billets-doux, the wind takes unawares.




© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

Walk into eternity
adorned with imortality

Stripped of flesh
and bone, this
primitive reality

Mind dimensions
unknown
Spirit transcending
time

Consciousness awakening
from itself
With its memory
left behind

Infinity is just
a moment, as long
as forever hangs
around

Eternity is but
a broken clock..
The only game
in town~