Quatrain Poems (303)

Force in unfortunate, a recourse of last resort,
For indiscriminate is The Angel of Death;
At war's conception, show no pity, shout: "Abort! Abort!"
And rescue the life of our Mother instead.

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.

People say, Pop back like a rubber band.
Do you understand what’s meant by this demand?
With too much stretch, rubber bands disintegrate;
as do I, with too much piled upon my plate.

One needs something that can take the heat
from baking life’s oft’ challenging “treats”
to deal with its long-term-storage stuff
and does not break when things get too rough.

More than these magic bands that come dyed
colors, can be frozen or deep-fried
is friendship and love the heart can glean
from the hand that extends, felt, not seen.

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

Tigress and Piglet both in critical need
third-party interest in doing good deed.
Into this mixture stir acceptance, to taste
smoothing the bitterness that differences make.

Mother’s milk drying up, spirits sinking down
after triplets succumb to death-call’s sound
is a story that pulls the heart strings, anew
but, alas, a fabrication – just not true.

Sriracha Tiger Zoo is the 2004-photo place
where animals mix without notice of race
Saimai nursing piglets, herself, nursed by a sow
Shows us peace is possible in the here-and-now.

Sow Benjamaj divides her nursing time
between tiger cubs and her own baby swine.
Who would think she could hold all so dear?
For this, she’s awarded mother-of-the-year.

The photos taken, real, doubtlessly prove
when giving love, there is little to lose.
Visual entertainment for visitors to see
serves as inspiration for you and for me.

Benjamaj and Saimai to us do not preach
through their actions, rather, do they lovingly teach
all things are possible when we look at each other
not with predator eyes but with those of a mother.


Saimai & Piglets

Is there someone as feckless as myself?
But just as lusty when the mood is right
Someone who won’t mind washing the delft,
Watching the football and drinking all night

Don’t expect me to decorate,
Cut down trees or dig the weeds
I won’t be much help if you’re in a state
But I may surprise you with selfless deeds

I have a temper and love a good rant
But I’ll calm down soon if you just agree
I’ll do what I can and shirk what I can’t
So you better get used to humouring me

Your family will hate me so best we don’t meet
Tell them I’m shy and I work odd hours
I’m much too boring to flirt or to cheat
On Valentine’s Day, there’ll always be flowers

I’ve got a good memory and won’t forget
Birthday and anniversary cards
I’ll annually mark the day that we met
With food and wine and kindest regards

I’ll break every promise I promised to keep
So promise you’ll never hold me to them
And every night before we fall asleep
I’ll kiss your cold shoulder and whisper Je t’aime

while sitting at a local literary Louvre
with artists and some other radicals
waiting for return of grammatical groove
that had left me on today's sabbatical

I stumbled for some heartfelt words
to share with you of artistic notions
of whether art is abstract or more absurd
can it cure our ills with colourful potions

and quietly the souls walked the walls
of painted lands and many female forms
to search their own inspiration's calls
outside their box of artistic norms

macroed with micro muted brush lines
of sultry legs and strong countenance
whatever treasure is sought we will find
with some ingrained artful provenance

like Samuel Morse as student of masters
copied Da Vinci from the Parisian museum
hued new light on Mona Lisa to recast her
and express his own artistic freedom

we give out hope of showing of ourselves
that bit of soul our heart holds close
down new pathways that we delve
our hands stretch toward divine, almost

© Goode Guy 2011-09-17

It seems there are lonely people everywhere
looking for the one person to fulfill their life;
how many of you are genuine out there?
How many of us will find husband or wife?

If nothing else ever comes of this trial,
At least I can always say it was fun to look.
I’ve met and talked to men both funny and vile,
but hey, you have to at least try the book.

When all is said and done and I give up
this futile search and understand why I’m alone,
that’s the day my true love will show up
and it’ll be too late for us; I only hope I’m wrong.

But you have to wonder, don’t you?
And how will you know unless you try?
There isn’t much to lose but time and you
may just get lucky once before you have to die.

what do we bring to sacrifice,
to the altar of our fears
will the fear, itself, suffice
to wipe away these grieving tears

here, a satchel i take in stride
through the machine, my will to cede
and here, too, a bag of my pride
that it turns out, i didn't need

that old man has a video camera
and a young one totes a backpack
can we turn them outta here
for the bravery that i lack

and the child so innocent beside her,
that woman there with righteous shawl,
are mother and child vengeful saboteurs
would a flash of hate burst my wall

do i send my firstborn far away
did the world change to get more hate
is that the price my dread must pay
is that all my fright can relate

when i stand on this serene beach
is evil banished from my sight
is the violent tsunami out of reach
if i waive some liberty, some right

should land's crust pull asunder
and an abyss drop before my feet
would relinquishing fear pull me under
would, then, i go down in defeat

my god, what must i do to appease
when i stand before some conflagration
to vindicate, to assuage, to please
must i change my life's foundation

or can i only fear fear itself
to live as those i remember might want
take life day-to-day from off the shelf
without hate and fear, my dreams to haunt

Armageddon might be without love
but my world today is more than this
i refuse to live life devoid of
love and empathy and a bit of bliss

© Goode Guy 2011-09-08

All the sky is clear tonight
Your warmth is on my chest
My arm around your waist is tight
Your lips at my behest

Your eyes are sleeping--so I see
Your breathing shallow is
And you belong to only me
No need to steal a kiss.

My mind is clear for once tonight
No clouds have ruined its course
And I am holding you real tight
I the very first.

And you are lying silently
Within my strong embrace
And I would like the world to see
My face so near your face.

My eyes are troubled not tonight
with mists that cause a spill
and linger on your skin so white
Sometimes against my will

But if my will has lost tonight
and made them languish there....
I'll kiss you silently tonight
though you be unaware,