Lands Mind
- Thread starter _Land
- Start date
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
Warm colors seem dark
Sadness seeps through the marrow of my bones
penetrating the thin core of my frame work
like a dense London fog, refuses to lift
it hovers just inches above my heart
my smile fades under the onslaught
happy memories a distant warmth
that wont burn off thick layers
sucked in, entrapped by shiver touches
I bundle up, long-johns, sweaters, and blankets
home made chicken soup wont remove this chills grip
my barren soul, naked- goose bumped like a plucked chicken
Sadness seeps through the marrow of my bones
penetrating the thin core of my frame work
like a dense London fog, refuses to lift
it hovers just inches above my heart
my smile fades under the onslaught
happy memories a distant warmth
that wont burn off thick layers
sucked in, entrapped by shiver touches
I bundle up, long-johns, sweaters, and blankets
home made chicken soup wont remove this chills grip
my barren soul, naked- goose bumped like a plucked chicken
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
On turning 29
Today is my 29th birthday
indeed I celebrate, with thanksgiving
Thankful because today is better
then a thousand yesterdays
I am loved because I am me
no clause, no only if, no conditions
turmoil surrounds my auspicious
new year, my children still missing
Financial struggles threaten to strangle
my will, but I know that through every
trial I grow stronger, every tear waters
the seeds of love planted, in my _land
my ability to love, has grown
re-learning basic relational skills
benifits of a two way relationship
that has grown from words to feeling
I am thankful for your ears, who hear my
voiceless cry, my dry tear, my interior suffering
and you hold me tight, the beat of your heart
reminding me that life indeed goes on
one slow soft beat at a time
I love you Beth
TO all my friends here at lit, Thank you for your encouragment, your help, you have helped me to push further then i would have.
this year has been a good year. Thanks to my friends here, I have had a voice, and i have been heard. To be heard is every persons greatest need, to know that someone listens and cares.
_Neal
Today is my 29th birthday
indeed I celebrate, with thanksgiving
Thankful because today is better
then a thousand yesterdays
I am loved because I am me
no clause, no only if, no conditions
turmoil surrounds my auspicious
new year, my children still missing
Financial struggles threaten to strangle
my will, but I know that through every
trial I grow stronger, every tear waters
the seeds of love planted, in my _land
my ability to love, has grown
re-learning basic relational skills
benifits of a two way relationship
that has grown from words to feeling
I am thankful for your ears, who hear my
voiceless cry, my dry tear, my interior suffering
and you hold me tight, the beat of your heart
reminding me that life indeed goes on
one slow soft beat at a time
I love you Beth
TO all my friends here at lit, Thank you for your encouragment, your help, you have helped me to push further then i would have.
this year has been a good year. Thanks to my friends here, I have had a voice, and i have been heard. To be heard is every persons greatest need, to know that someone listens and cares.
_Neal
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
SENNA, please comment on this
Tintinnabulation
Cavernous designations tumble, to help
reconnoiter histrionic gravity wells
Echo-o-o-o
Destined to revolve
in perpetuity in the fire escape of my mind
Silence
Overcoming
Failure the toms that beat
my shattered drums
Cavernous designations tumble, to help
reconnoiter histrionic gravity wells
Echo-o-o-o
Destined to revolve
in perpetuity in the fire escape of my mind
Silence
Overcoming
Failure the toms that beat
my shattered drums
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
A darkness more
twinkle not skies befall me
I meditate on selfish motives
peer in to windowless night
smoked mirrors reveal nothing
perhaps my once upon a time
reasons were legitamite, valid
The sun rises no more, no shine
on my steal toed philosophy
they just plod the same path
Trudging me deeper
in to my closed minded hell
twinkle not skies befall me
I meditate on selfish motives
peer in to windowless night
smoked mirrors reveal nothing
perhaps my once upon a time
reasons were legitamite, valid
The sun rises no more, no shine
on my steal toed philosophy
they just plod the same path
Trudging me deeper
in to my closed minded hell
beths-virtue
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2002
- Posts
- 253
seeing everyone visits here
i wanted to say...
everyone, dont expect much from me for a while, i ended up in an emergency appendectomy on saturday morning, not quite up to par yet...
couldnt let neal have all the attention
just kidding must be the vicodan talking
i wanted to say...
everyone, dont expect much from me for a while, i ended up in an emergency appendectomy on saturday morning, not quite up to par yet...
couldnt let neal have all the attention
just kidding must be the vicodan talking
Lauren Hynde
Hitched
- Joined
- Apr 11, 2002
- Posts
- 21,061
I wish you a good recovery, Beth. Hope everything's ok now. 
HomerPindar
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2001
- Posts
- 963
Hope this is the worse of your health for years to come then Beth.. been der, done dat, damn near kill'd me.
On another note, this is a semi-found poem that ended at this thread ~
semi-found poetry:
haiku links
lands challenge thread
.........to a call
need help
I am sulking (this is a genuine complaint)
.........about
Hypersonnets
..........?!?!? no...just
lands mind
HomerPindar
On another note, this is a semi-found poem that ended at this thread ~
semi-found poetry:
haiku links
lands challenge thread
.........to a call
need help
I am sulking (this is a genuine complaint)
.........about
Hypersonnets
..........?!?!? no...just
lands mind
HomerPindar
Senna Jawa
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 13, 2002
- Posts
- 3,272
Re: SENNA, please comment on this
Best regards,
_Land, why me? This poem has no affinity to what I try to promote. It's better for everybody, including yourself, when the views of the commentator and the poem in question are not a world apart, when there is at least some contact between the two. Then commenting makes some sense._Land said:
Best regards,
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,156
Get Well Beth!
I just saw this and am so sorry to hear you had to go through that. Did you do it to avoid the hypersonnet? I tried to write one, but it wasn't hyper, merely mega.
Take your time and when you feel well enough come back and jump in; we'll attack like the pack of wolves we really are.
I just saw this and am so sorry to hear you had to go through that. Did you do it to avoid the hypersonnet? I tried to write one, but it wasn't hyper, merely mega.
Take your time and when you feel well enough come back and jump in; we'll attack like the pack of wolves we really are.
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
Winter Welcome
season begins with a six inch layer of frosting
with it comes the longing for the burning pine
scents of my childhood home drift in memory
flames flick in my eyes, tears extinguish them
they will sell my growing up garden this year
when the last flower blooms, and gets picked
learning how to drive on grandpa’s thin frame
old blue an international, it still runs just right
my kin rose out of ground here, and returned
will the earth give up ghosts, when we leave?
if not will they be lonely, us not being there?
who will walk the fields, listening for laughs?
grandpa’s laughter still rings the morning
I learned to ride my bike, nose bleed and all
season begins with a six inch layer of frosting
with it comes the longing for the burning pine
scents of my childhood home drift in memory
flames flick in my eyes, tears extinguish them
they will sell my growing up garden this year
when the last flower blooms, and gets picked
learning how to drive on grandpa’s thin frame
old blue an international, it still runs just right
my kin rose out of ground here, and returned
will the earth give up ghosts, when we leave?
if not will they be lonely, us not being there?
who will walk the fields, listening for laughs?
grandpa’s laughter still rings the morning
I learned to ride my bike, nose bleed and all
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
Humpty Dumpty
I often yearn for less hectic times, and when they finally visit I pray for un-boredom. It is a hex that seems to hold many of us in its grasp these days, with our 23-hour schedule. The other hour is used for minor necessities like using the restroom, although if we could find a way to make that a scheduled item we would. I often sit on the toilet in the morning the only real free time I have, and I spend time thinking about all the other things I have scheduled, listing the most important things one by one. I have forgotten how to hold still, life no longer whispers its secrets to me, as I speed by.
It used to be that I could sit and do nothing. Now it is more that I am Seinfield like in my existence, always doing something, but what is life really about? The more I take on to accomplish the less important it seems. I have less to give of myself to what I really cherish, and while I realize this, cant stop. As I slide around an obstacle in Kramer like dramatics, still managing to look like I’m on top of my game, I wonder how often I will be able to juggle.
Times like now I feel more fit to be a circus clown, as life’s pins are tossed to me in various orders, first comes love, then comes marriage, then 5 babies in expensive carriages, somewhere in between they threw me a career. Mix that in with a small matter of friends, their individual crisis that they need me to support them in, Oh then comes divorce, child support, and visitation. Don’t forget the mortgage! Legal fees mount up faster then she did when we met. Master juggler at work, cant let one pin drop, my desire to succeed is stronger then ever.
Success comes at great price, or so they say, but it is not financial dues. You pay with freedom, each task requires more, and leaves no room for mistakes. Suicidal workaholics leave notes that they can only find freedom in their grave, but they slowly gave their life away one potential success at a time. Every man is appointed to die; we just get there while we still breathe.
Overburdened by bridges built in an attempt to reach great heights, looking back I never knew how rickety they were. I have in essence created my own Babel towering over my head, unable to finish it because I no longer understand my own language. It has become incomprehensible, or maybe I am just un-cohesive not able to get it all back together again.
I often yearn for less hectic times, and when they finally visit I pray for un-boredom. It is a hex that seems to hold many of us in its grasp these days, with our 23-hour schedule. The other hour is used for minor necessities like using the restroom, although if we could find a way to make that a scheduled item we would. I often sit on the toilet in the morning the only real free time I have, and I spend time thinking about all the other things I have scheduled, listing the most important things one by one. I have forgotten how to hold still, life no longer whispers its secrets to me, as I speed by.
It used to be that I could sit and do nothing. Now it is more that I am Seinfield like in my existence, always doing something, but what is life really about? The more I take on to accomplish the less important it seems. I have less to give of myself to what I really cherish, and while I realize this, cant stop. As I slide around an obstacle in Kramer like dramatics, still managing to look like I’m on top of my game, I wonder how often I will be able to juggle.
Times like now I feel more fit to be a circus clown, as life’s pins are tossed to me in various orders, first comes love, then comes marriage, then 5 babies in expensive carriages, somewhere in between they threw me a career. Mix that in with a small matter of friends, their individual crisis that they need me to support them in, Oh then comes divorce, child support, and visitation. Don’t forget the mortgage! Legal fees mount up faster then she did when we met. Master juggler at work, cant let one pin drop, my desire to succeed is stronger then ever.
Success comes at great price, or so they say, but it is not financial dues. You pay with freedom, each task requires more, and leaves no room for mistakes. Suicidal workaholics leave notes that they can only find freedom in their grave, but they slowly gave their life away one potential success at a time. Every man is appointed to die; we just get there while we still breathe.
Overburdened by bridges built in an attempt to reach great heights, looking back I never knew how rickety they were. I have in essence created my own Babel towering over my head, unable to finish it because I no longer understand my own language. It has become incomprehensible, or maybe I am just un-cohesive not able to get it all back together again.
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
Eulogizing Me
I often wonder what might be said
if I were to die today, tomorrow or yesterday
conflicting images are my own
memory of who I am, was, will be
Yesterday, here lies a young man
he was well know by most of his peers
but never had the social status or the money
he married young, to young, had babies
he lacked the financial management skills
needed to plow ahead in life
nor was he ready for the many needs of fatherhood
yes he was much too selfish for anyone’s good
his parents and younger sister might miss him
his wife and kids will be better off though
our only regret is that he couldn’t afford
life insurance.
Today, here lies a young man
a hard working father, well loved
by his family, and friends
he never had social status or the money
but he plowed ahead, planting seeds
he was taken just as he bloomed,
found his sense of confident maturity
through struggle, trials, he learned to give
not out of his need but out of others
though he failed as a husband
his children will remember him
for his consistent voice of discipline
his times of quiet thoughts expressed
to inner ears, whispered love thinking
his touch extended to the corners of the globe
through his variable emotions, written
shared with others, each time a line was read
his gentle hands and voice said I understand
he will be missed in more then one community.
farewell to a flower in bloom
Tomorrow, here lies an old man
who, faced with many trials, reflected
not on the tragedies, but on the growth
that came from them. Learning to accept responsibility
was his greatest accomplishment, not for failure
that came easy, but for how he responded.
he used failure as a means to success
his constant pursuit of betterment has inspired many
to look, inward deeper then the surface.
he is survived by his wife of fifty years, six children,
and one sister. He has left them a heritage worth
more then any life insurance policy
he will be missed he lives on, in the many lives of those he touched
I often wonder what might be said
if I were to die today, tomorrow or yesterday
conflicting images are my own
memory of who I am, was, will be
Today is better then yesterday, Tomorrow looks brighter!
I often wonder what might be said
if I were to die today, tomorrow or yesterday
conflicting images are my own
memory of who I am, was, will be
Yesterday, here lies a young man
he was well know by most of his peers
but never had the social status or the money
he married young, to young, had babies
he lacked the financial management skills
needed to plow ahead in life
nor was he ready for the many needs of fatherhood
yes he was much too selfish for anyone’s good
his parents and younger sister might miss him
his wife and kids will be better off though
our only regret is that he couldn’t afford
life insurance.
Today, here lies a young man
a hard working father, well loved
by his family, and friends
he never had social status or the money
but he plowed ahead, planting seeds
he was taken just as he bloomed,
found his sense of confident maturity
through struggle, trials, he learned to give
not out of his need but out of others
though he failed as a husband
his children will remember him
for his consistent voice of discipline
his times of quiet thoughts expressed
to inner ears, whispered love thinking
his touch extended to the corners of the globe
through his variable emotions, written
shared with others, each time a line was read
his gentle hands and voice said I understand
he will be missed in more then one community.
farewell to a flower in bloom
Tomorrow, here lies an old man
who, faced with many trials, reflected
not on the tragedies, but on the growth
that came from them. Learning to accept responsibility
was his greatest accomplishment, not for failure
that came easy, but for how he responded.
he used failure as a means to success
his constant pursuit of betterment has inspired many
to look, inward deeper then the surface.
he is survived by his wife of fifty years, six children,
and one sister. He has left them a heritage worth
more then any life insurance policy
he will be missed he lives on, in the many lives of those he touched
I often wonder what might be said
if I were to die today, tomorrow or yesterday
conflicting images are my own
memory of who I am, was, will be
Today is better then yesterday, Tomorrow looks brighter!
_Land
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 3, 2002
- Posts
- 757
Click
watch, take it all in
your view of the world
seems larger, after death
before dying days
life seemed to pass you by
nothing but work, and sleep
even days off seemed odd
if chores were not the central activity
but grandma had a stroke, grandpa emphysema
and life seemed to slow down
momentary, pause in life’s pace
maybe God does have a remote control
Fast forward lives thrust
suddenly in rewind, trying
to recall where time has ticked off to
tracking no longer works
the picture is still fuzzy
but great memories are better then Memorex
watch, take it all in
your view of the world
seems larger, after death
before dying days
life seemed to pass you by
nothing but work, and sleep
even days off seemed odd
if chores were not the central activity
but grandma had a stroke, grandpa emphysema
and life seemed to slow down
momentary, pause in life’s pace
maybe God does have a remote control
Fast forward lives thrust
suddenly in rewind, trying
to recall where time has ticked off to
tracking no longer works
the picture is still fuzzy
but great memories are better then Memorex
