Newest Quatrain Poems (304)

DO I REALLY WANT TO DANCE WITH FRANCE’

What kind of dance and how is it done?
And does she want to dance with just anyone?
She asks me questions and the truth will be told
For I cannot be asked to change now, I’m too damned old

This is what I am and will ever be Miss city of lights
And I’m done trying, in a windless sky, to fly any more kites
I’m too old for the hunt and weary of any game
And don’t ask me who we should blame

Perhaps a universe that forces people to lie
Or maybe even to say a sudden “good-bye”
This dance was new to me, but now it’s grown old
And I care not to witness sorrow unfold

All the women, all the time, all the times when I thought I had the time
But the clock shows it’s too late and you may be missing he sublime
Well listen lady, an alluring nature and a need for answers will be done
Because I want answers as well and cohesive answers for every one

If you truly want me to be the shoulder for you to cry on
You’d better do a simple task, and soon---- lest I be gone
But fear not, there will be other stars to wish upon
For I’ve lived enough summers to know whenever I fall I eventually rise
And that I don’t dig women on the internet only to find that they’re really perverted guys

So if you want me to dance I will but you must follow my lead
Let your body become a willow in the wind which you need
But when we are no longer just dancers and should real life try to sneak in
You’d better know that I invented the concept of sin (C) 2011....~free! CEE!~

Following thirty years
of power building, rife
with billions taken from
the people, land and life

Soles now upturned
facing toward heaven’s light
LEAVE spelling out dis-
respect through all the strife

A nation’s self-portrait
Tahrir Square rounding out
hope captured in hands
upholding freedom’s shout

Shoes held high, speaking
the people and army stand
together as one, answers
awaited by prayers’ demand

Six-0-three pm with
Sunset prayers ended
as strangers hugged and
roars, heard, ascended

Power transferred from
Mubarak to the people’s pride
as proudly Egyptians honor
those many who have died

Peaceful strength, humor laced,
dictator’s reign did cease.
May those who liberated now
govern this nation in peace.

SHE SAT ON HER BED, HE IN THE DEN
SHE WITH A BOOK, HE WITH A PEN
SHE WAS READING ABOUT LETHAL DRUGS AND THEIR USE
WHILE HE SAT WRITING A SINCERE YET FAR-FETCHED EXCUSE

SHE CAME DOWN AND SET THE TABLE
WHILE HE DID WHATEVER HE WAS ABLE
BOTH HAD SOMETHING TO SAY THAT WAS REAL
BUT FIRST THEY WOULD EACH SHARE A MEAL

A YOUNG ROASTED LAMB, PEAS AND CARROTS
AND THEN BOTH BEGAN TO SPEAK OF THEIR HABITS
HER'S WERE BENIGN BUT HIS WAS OF GREAT CONCERN
AND BOTH PARTNERS HAD A LOT TO LEARN

SHE HAD A PROBLEM WHICH HAPPENED TO BE HIM
AND HOW THEIR FUTURE SEEMED FAR TOO DIM
THEY USED SOME MONEY TO DRESS THE LADY WITH CHARM
SOME FOR RENT, FOOD AND THE REST TO SHOOT UP HIS ARM

UNFORTUNATELY THERE WOULD BE NO COMPROMISE
FOR SHE WAS INTELLIGENT, HE NOT QUITE AS WISE
SHE DEMANDED AN END TO HIS DRUG ABUSE
AND STOP USING THAT WHICH SHE DEEMED REFUSE

FOR TRASH IT WAS TO A LADY SO SWEET
BUT HE SO ACRID AND INDISCREET
SO BOTH CLIMBED THE STAIRS AND INTO THEIR ROOM
SHE TO PACK HER BAGS AND HE TO RESUME HIS DOOM


DIVERGENT NEEDS WOULD KEEP THEM APART
SHE SO SOFT AND HE WITH HIS HARDENED HEART
SHE PACKED HER BAGS AS HE USED THE BATHROOM BUT NOT AS A JOHN
THEN HE AROSE FROM THE TILE AND TURNED THE KNOB ONLY TO FIND HER GONE

IT HURTS TO RECOLLECT THIS SORDID STORY
AND UNFORTUNATELY IT WAS NO ALLEGORY
IF THE TRUTH BE TOLD IT WAS AGONY
FOR SHE WAS LOVELY SHE AND I WAS A DESPERATE ME
(C) 2011...~free cee!~
author's note....it is acceptable for James Taylor to rhyme Boston with frostin' because in song it sounds okay. However, when someone, no names mentioned, uses the word "oughter" and jams it into a poem to rhyme with "daughter" that person should take at least one year of Analytical Poetry (i took two) or abandon poetry for prose.....does anyone remember the word "order?" This is only my opinion and you can take it from whence it came. ~f.C.!~

Trudged outside to drive to work
Warmed the car and applied some torque
Wheels spinning and going nowhere
Except downwards until I didn't care

Seems I'm stuck I saddly lamented
A mild spell made snow soft I vented
What should I do now I thought
Phone in to work and explain I ought

Whatever will I do with myself today
For in my house I am forced to stay
Well I'll happily while away the hours
Go to PC before my disposition sours

A happy place where I may jest and fun
Somewhere they laugh at my bad puns
A place where people always lend a hand
No buried heads in the pages or the sand

A wondrous place of creativity and mirth
Simply not like any other on this earth
Where kindness and sympathy abides
Understanding as constant as the tides

A place where the sun is always shining
They gladly listen to my constant wining
A place where people are reaching out
Sanctuary where I can scream and shout

Now that I've got your attention
Glorified all as helpful by intention
Do you consider it less than absurb
Could you all push my car past the curb??

a 17 year old white kid shouldn't be in such a place
and shouldn't be in such a lady's embrace
yet there strolled I in the darkness of desperation
and all too soon mine became a hazardous occupation

my eyes saw the midnight moon but it mattered not
i went there whether the weather was frigid or hot
walking amongst people so different from me
yet that lady would allow none of us to live free

my eyes widened when I saw what lay straight ahead
a lady that could leave me comatose or dead
yet a 17 year old white boy sat on the street
craving in the cold and searching in the scortching heat

a 17 year old white boy shouldn't be there
and back then that lady filled people with fear
but i needed immediate relief only she could provide
as I continued to let the lady become my only guide

all those years ago among friends I was the only one
and day by day heroin had me on the run
seeking on corners and looking in bars
while a white boy in Harlem may as well have been on Mars

I was a stranger meeting strangers by the score
and that's what I'd done a hundred times or more
because no matter what was happening the lady displayed her charm
and she grew more grievous with every shot in my arm
(c) ~free cee!~
P.S. did you people know that the only adjective in the English language that cannot be modified by an adverb is the word "unique"....like she's either unique or she ain't unique, if one chooses to adhere to the rules my creative writing professor in my second and last year of college told me, "free, if you want to adhere to the rules you won't say VERY unique" So I don't. and I find that unique....as in a unique eunich

i've buried more shining friends than you can believe
and buried so many psychiatrists that you can't conceive
i've been to seedy places most people wouldn't dare to enter
and of the people who try to censor me you are in the dead center

i write what i see, hear and with clarity know
yet and still you want to turn rain into snow
well i'll always be snow no matter what you may say
and for no one or reason shall i alter my way

my poems are warnings to parents they need to heed
so they can recognize when Johnny has a habit to feed
but there you are trying to stifle what they need to hear
and i deem you doing that totally unfair

i do take criticism but first i'd like to read you
because something tells me you write about a sky so blue
you probably scribe words about warriors so brave
while i tell people how to save themselves from an early grave

well at this particular time that's all i have to state
that and i wish your irrational reviews of me would abate
because i don't give a damn if you kick me or sock me
but then you have the unmitigated nerve to block me
yours in rebellion, relaxation, and reflexes that reflect
my attitude toward critics like you
~free cee!~

THERE HE LAY A STONE TO SPEAK NO MORE
THERE HE LAY, MOTIONLESS UNLIKE SECONDS BEFORE
THERE LAY HE, WITH NO MORE SMILES FOR TO LEND
THERE LAY HE, MY GLISTENING FRIEND

I TAUGHT HIM WELL HOW TO FIND A VEIN
I TUTORED HIM WELL IN HOW TO CONQUER PAIN
I EDIFIED HIM IN HOW TO ROB AND STEAL
THERE LAY HE WITH NO PULSE TO FEEL

T'WAS MIDST PORCELAIN AND TILE LAY HE THERE
OUR DESPERATION WAS AS A SPEAR
SKEWERED BY STEEL AS REAL AS ANY MADE
AND DONE WERE ALL THE PLANS TO FADE

HE AND I WERE GOING TO TRAVERSE THE GLOBE
UNTIL MY BATHROOM DEFILED HIS ROBE
WHEN MET DID WE HE WAS FILLED WITH HOPE
BUT OUR DESIRE BECAME HIS HANGMAN'S ROPE

NO 911 WOULD I PLACE THAT CALL
AS I DRAGGED INTO A HOLLOWED HALL
LEST THE COPS SEEK ANSWERS I COULD NOT DEFEND
AND HIS HEART AND SOUL UNABLE TO MEND

SO ALAN DIED IN MY SEEDY APARTMENT'S TUB
AND THEREIN LIES THE RUBBISH AND THE RUB
I NEVER ATTENDED HIS FUNERAL SINCE I FELT AS IF I HAD KILLED HIM WELL
AS FOR ALAN I KNOW NOT WHERE HE WENT BUT I AM HEADED FOR HELL
(C) 2011....~free cee!~

YOU CAN ARISE WHENEVER YOU CARE TO
THAT'S ONE REASON I AM JEALOUS OF YOU
FOR BREAKFAST YOU CAN EAT WHATEVER YOU PICK OUT
ALAS, AS FOR MY FIRST MEAL THERE IS NOT EVEN A DOUBT

I KNOW PRECISELY WHAT WILL BE ON MY METAL TRAY
EXCEPT SOMETIMES IT'S MILK OR O.J. TO BEGIN THE DAY
YOUR PANTRY IS FULL OF SUSTINANCE I DON'T EVEN RECALL
AS I USE AN OLD FILTHY AND FADED TEE SHIRT AS A SHAWL

YOUR LUNCH TIME MIGHT BE AT THAT LITTLE TAVERN WE KNOW
BUT NOW MY LUNCH TIME IS DELIVERED ROW BY ROW
THAT COZY TAVERN MEANT A LOT TO ME
AND SO DID MY BEING FREE

BUT POWDER AND PAIN BROUGHT ME HERE
AND HERE I WILL STAY YEAR AFTER YEAR
I RECEIVE CENSORED LETTERS IN MY PERSONAL MAIL
THE ONES THEY ALLOW ME TO READ HERE IN JAIL
(C) 2011.....free cee!

January 17, 2011

I gaze up at the round bright winter’s moon,
watching and drifting in wonder of you.
Have you felt a tug at your heart or sleeve?
Has a voice called out you were sure you knew?

Have you thought on it, over and over,
how souls seek each other, then meet by fate?
I whisper my wish for our paths to cross.
I’m patient, though sometimes I curse the wait.

Your deep soothing voice echoes within me.
I imagine your eyes...a familiar light.
Let my thoughts be the beacon that guides you,
bridging the distance between us this night.

All-knowing face of the bright winter’s moon,
nestled in a sea of ten trillion stars...
guide him to me through a brief pause in time,
and grant us a life of love that is ours.

Have we not waited and searched long enough?
Have we not paid every debt that we owe?
I long for the feel of him in my arms...
my love, my heart, he, the soul of my soul.

Even as I write this, I know I'll be criticized
But I don't really care because this is what I feel inside
I just wish I could erase these thoughts in my head
Waking up to another dreadful morning, wishing I was dead
I use to be full of hope and love, now I'm angry and sour
I feel like a rat in a cage full of snakes, waiting to be devoured
And it's not like i haven't thought of suicide, hell a couple of times I tried
Once with a shotgun in my mouth, that jammed, and the other with a dulling kitchen knife
It just feels like I have a thousand demons digging through my brain
Feasting on every memory of happiness until nothing else remains
And my mother, God bless her soul, tells me to turn all my problems over to the Lord
But with every passing second, it seems I question Him more and more
Damnit, I can't take it, my heart no longer feels and my soul is torn
And asking me to go to church would be like asking a nun to do porn
It just won't happen because my faith has been replaced with doubt
And I won't go just to be seen because that's not what it should be about
There's too many hypocrits in this world and I've never been part of the "in crowd"
So I'll just keep hoping that one day God will hear me before my misery causes me to drown