Last Commented Elegy Poems (75)

Mein Herz ist dort bei Dir, Berlin geblieben.
Du hast es jenem Winterabend ergriffen
und unter den Millionen auf immer dein Sohn
zu sein Du mich machtvoll versprochen hast.

Ich versinke in Musik,aus dem Wasser ins Licht steige,
bezaubern mich die Glocken von Santa Klaus,
und sind die Zauber von Alexanderpletzt
nicht die sakramente des Weihnachts chaus?

Mein Gott! Soviel Lustigkeit und soviel Schnee!
Weihnacht in Berlin! Ein unendliches Maerchen
und ich habe geglaubt, das Du mir ein Zeichen gibst:
fuer Liebe, Hoffnung, Glaube an dein Paradies.

Mein Herz ist dort bei Dir, Berlin geblieben,
und das Schmerz nach Dir geblieben - untroestlih.
unter Millionen - wie verlorener Sohn
ich laufe fort und komme wieder jeden Winter.

I LOST MY FRIEND THE OTHER DAY,
HE JUST SILENTLY SLIPPED AWAY
FROM THE FETTERS OF THIS LAND -
- BUT - THAT WAS THE MANNER OF THIS MAN.

I VALUE ALL THE TIME WITH HIM,
I FELT A KINDSHIP DEEP WITHIN.
WE THOUGHT ALIKE IN MANY WAYS
WE LEARNED,WE TAUGHT ,
I LOVED THOSE DAYS.

THERE NEVER WAS A WORD OF IRE,
WITH ME AT LEAST,WHILE IN HIS HIRE,
OF ALL,HE WAS MY FAVORITE BOSS
AND NOW HE'S GONE,IT'S SUCH A LOSS.

I NEVER HEARD HIM BRAG OR BOAST
THOUGH HE HAD REASON, MORE THAN MOST,
A QUIET GENIUS TO THE END,
OH GOD, I MISS MY FRIEND.

No Beginning nor end.

In the image of my Father from whence I came,
The immeasurable vastness of my souls abyss you could not begin to fathom.

So far past the depths of sorrow, even the Angels weep for hope of a better tomorrow.

The light at the other end is an illusion behind me.


This is my Despair.

Standing there before me marked with the vivacity of one souls inception,
serendipity found them together in what
lies apathy of progress,
and prematureness of decay from the inside,
but the image is not unfamiliar unto me.
She speaks with forked tongue,
taunting with whispers,
beckoning with words of no sound.

Longing for silence I wait in the shadows,
the temptress holds open the door.
My mind brews with abruptness my will to make haste.
..away from that of Death and the Magician that brings an immense vastitude of waste

Lo!,.... I am not stuck in this reflection,
actuality can lead me and give me the option..................................to simply............. walk...... away.

If I only had the cognizance to know which one were me,
But lo...tis with woeful sorrow that my apathy does feed..... on her trickery.

And like a dying star is every work of your virtue:
It's light is always on it's way and it wanders-
And when will it no longer be on it's way?
Thus the light of your virtueis still on it's way
even when the work has been done.
though it be forgotten and dead,
the ray of it's light still lives and wanders.
that your virtue is your self and not something foreign,
a skin a cloak, that is the truth from the foundation
of your souls, you who are virtuous.......
And some who cannot see what is high in man call it virtue
that they see all- too closley what is low in man....
thus graet innovators never come from above, they come invariably from below, just as a tree never grows from they sky donward, but upwardsfrom the earth.

Planets beyond numbers; worlds concealed by faith
Our thoughts will turn the sublunary worldview straight
Order in chaos from an indefinite system
One step mistaken and the great scale is broken

Two thousand years of morals as figure,
Taught individually by example
Never share with me your disclaims,
Picture only what you're worth
In all your incompleteness

Social constructionism; questioned through all times
Just like the fall of shattered mines
The prophetic method; liminal and in between worlds
Challenging the symbolic order, listen as it hurts

Symbolical and sheeting, in an eclectic manner,
Institutional monotheism holds the banner
Martial and creed;
You think they will provide anything you need?

You reckon it's diversity?
As time passes it will turn into canonical unity
Scripture and doctrines, hollow as it must be
The sole individual yearns to be free

god of the letter box,
god of the gate,
god of the path,
god of the garden,
god of the barking dog..
always kind and modest,
enduring coldness and heat,
you,outside world's deities,
knowing the secret of seasons,
you,joyfully welcoming
the well disposed visitor..
be praised for protecting my home.
god of the bell,
god of the open door,
god of the closed door,
god of the little waiting,
god of the invitation to enter..
intermediary deities,
masters of the in out instant,
be praised for protecting my home..
god of the corridor,
god of the furnitures,
god of the rooms,
god of the cat behind the curtains,
happy inner deities of the family,
and celebrations..
be praised for protecting my home..

As i grow older i see my life that has been
images stored in my head locked away not to be seen
for i am the only one with the key
should i open an image today with my speacial key

that image stored in my head for only me to see
clear as day lovinly created in my head family images of times gone by friends ,relatives some long since gone by lovingly stored in every detail locked secured inside my head

lots of images i foundly look back on my past locked away for i am the only one with the key
images that bring me joy some of saddness some of fear some images that will not go away of bad times that i wish would go away
family members locked away in my head that i see they are not forgotten my me

A stroll on the beach beneath a starry sky
Listening to the breakers as we go by
A walk in the country through forest of green
Cascading waterfalls and streams to be seen
Visiting churches with domes and with spires
With their ornate windows and angelic choirs
Sightseeing tours around castles so bold
Finding damsels and knight and hero’s of old
Theses thing maybe great and full of charms
But the best place of all is in your arms.

THAT'S NOT THE TITLE OF THIS POEM I WROTE A POEM THIS MORNING AND POSTED IT AT TEN A.M. MAYBE IF YOU SEE HOW MANY PEOPLE VIEWED MY POEMS, THE AMOUNT AS OF 3p.m.e.s.t 431 PEOPLE SOAKED IN MY LIFE,
MY VIEWS ON LIFE, AND MY VIEWS ON PEOPLE LIKE MOST OF YOU WHO BURY MY POEMS BECAUSE YOU'RE GIRLFRIEND MIGHT SEE IT AND SAY "DAMN IT YOU FOOL, WHY CAN'T YOU WRITE POETRY LIKE free...AND I'LL BET MARRIAGES ARE BEING BROKEN UP AS..OH NO...I DID THAT FOUR TIMES ON A.O.L. AND THAT AIN'T NO LIE BECAUSE I NEEDED TO CALL MY LAWYER I FIND OUT WHAT
A CO-RESPONDENT IS...I KNOW WHAT A CORRESPONDENT IS BUT I NEEDED HIM TO TELL ME THAT THIS IS THE FOURTH MARRIAGE IN 11 YEARS YOU'VE BROKEN UP--HEY, TELL THESE DUDES TO SLEEP IN THE SAME THE HEVENTIES

THE HEAVENTIES

This man had a plan, man
Yet I never considered the bridge the seventies would be made to span, man
Either everything I dreamed of would die and turn unto dust
Or the universe would agree with the topic we two had discussed
The universe and I agreed that I owned the seventies until they end
And that was my right even the universe would defend
I wasn’t so much a rebel as I was a letch lost in the woods
But back in the seventies you could always find me in the wrong neighborhoods
If it was of an urgent matter that you needed I’d make time for you
And I was the man to see if you wanted something illicit to do
I owned midnight, noon, and I owned the music and the moon
And the dances people did were always to my tune
Then, when the sun would wave its way away
I realized there was now one less day
One less day that I owned the seventies and all it comprised
But I would never be bought and the seventies wouldn’t be compromised
It felt beneficial to awake and know you owned today
Yet comprehend that the inevitable will eventually turn my hair gray
And then came New Year’s Eve to welcome in a new year
Alas I was the only one to shed a sorrowful tear
Because what I did when I owned the seventies will send me to Hades
But I remember a tender ten years until the seventies gave way to the eighties
© 2011...this could only have been written by a poetic prince
~free cee!~
GOD DAMN I AM SO GOOD I WANT MY OWN AUTOGRAPH FOR THE FUTURE!
IF YOU ALL HAD BEEN MORE RECEPTIVE TO MY POETRY I MAY NOT HAVE BEEN AS BELIGERENT AS I AM TODAY.....COME TO THINK OF IT I MAY HAVE, AFTER READING THE LOVE NOTES SENT ACROSS THE 7TH GRADE ENGLISH CLASS
YOU PEOPLE BABBLE ON ABOUT! PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL OF YOU...ANYONE REMEMBER PEACE AND LOVE...I DON'T TAKE A DENIM JACET OFF ON WHICH I MADE PEACE SIGN IN THE FOUR QUADRANTS IT SAYS FREE/DUMB/PEACE/LOVE....WAKE UP PEOPLE INSTEAD OF WISHING YOUU WERE ME LEARN FROM ME i'll help if help will help
yours in sarcastic sincerity,
(c) 2011 ~free cee!~