wow... this made me sad and weepy. beautifully written. and we all know you've been going through some rough times health wise. I am just glad to see you back posting.
Name doesn't always matter when it comes to passion...sometimes it is the spirit of the moment and perhaps a lover from a past life come to you in the form of a chance lover and the passion of the moment is all that matters...cling to it...
The last time I saw you when we had fun Goofing off and laughing in the golden sun Those times stick with me as if only yesterday We were young and certain in all we would say
About and around took on a different sound As we explored our boundaries of all we found Life was an endless vista stretching ever on we spent up the night to cash in the dawn
Burning desires flamed through our hearts As we groped through life doing our parts Our interpretation of a presentation of belief Only hoping to alleviate the current days grief
The last time we met we were unencumbered Our days were crazy and infinitely numbered I like to think back to that last time we had Because it brings me a smile when I'm so sad
I saw her vibrant smile the night before she died she never cried never felt the pain Arlene seemed so happy with life but, the last time I saw her she was laying in a casket cold...with twisted face HAIL MARY FULL OF GRACE she left four children behind to mourn so forlorn so sad, crying salty tears even after all these years hundreds of people at the funeral still walk through corridors of disbelief and slow muddy wonder as they plunder through untold secrets that were hers alone...
It's hard losing a child...for some reason it doesn't seem natural. He should find a support group. I have a mental health therapist for grief therapy.
old hippies are all crinkly now vic. we old punk rockers still have lots of hair and leather jackets though....ssshhhh i'm in disguise as one of the respectable, normal people - love and peace - paul.
Beautifully spare and poignantly rich at the same time. A great feat to accomplish. You are a wonderful poet and enjoy learning from your samples of your work.
these were written a couple of days ago, but first the library was closed, then i couldn't make it here, but here we go.
THE LAST RUN
my name is paul fowler. this is my story a last chance for death, or glory
she slipped free of glory and in to the cold of death i remember her last breath maybe a shadow though to show me which way to go
she was kindness personified when she died......i died inside this was twelve years ago been on the winding road but still haven't found a way to go she was tiny, but still a heavy load
she smelled like goddess's should smell and had secrets i would never tell.
Ah, yes, the lost love that remains always young and fresh in the memory no matter how many years go by. Thank you for your sharing of this very loving poem.
and the second one. tried this one out on the library ladies....they liked it. i'm not so sure about the second verse.
OLD MICE STRIKE TWICE
sortta lost in the past keep thinking every relationship is the last when the tears go streaming down your face and you are too in love and in the wrong place
i'll be your lighthouse and guide you from rocky shores to give you all that is yours no longer need to be an unhappy mouse in holy water thou shall douse.
thanks for reading ladies and gentlemen - love - paul.
I like the first verse. you could expand on it, I believe. The second one doesn't work for me...to many mixed metaphors. In some respects the first four lines,ie the first verse, could almost stand alone as a poem all by itself.
i'm always committed victoria, or what's the point? but that is also the problem....one more broken heart and i give up forever - love and peace - paul.
This has been an interesting prompt to think about. One of my delights is to ponder on the weekly one in my spare moments, and then when I have time, sit own and pu hings on paper--or computer,depending. I'm working on mine for next week, and wil try to make it as good as this one.
This is a new one. Written quickly. Sorry I haven't been commenting on others. I do read them. Not quite focused enough to say anything intelligent.
ReplyDeleteTHE LAST TIME
One time and you
won't know when
or who you'll be with
husband wife or lover
or a stranger
it almost
doesn't matter and
yet it does crucially
because you won't
be quite sure
when you're thinking back
it will be the last time
last time someone
inside you
you in the space that
is not you never was
but made you whole
you'll never
be that way again
but you don't know it and
you roll over
or sneak out
or leave a kiss on
her stomach and maybe
she'll remember that
I agree with the others. Wow. It choked me up. Beautiful.
DeleteBeautifully touching
Deletei've never been quite sure mate.
Deletewow... this made me sad and weepy. beautifully written. and we all know you've been going through some rough times health wise. I am just glad to see you back posting.
ReplyDeleteOh so lovely... and so poignant. Wow!
ReplyDeletea response to Tad's poem
ReplyDeleteThe last time a man was inside me
we lay entangled on his bed
his dark brown skin glistened with sweat
warm and smooth against my white flesh
More passion than we could bear
we held each other after
unwilling to let the moment end
I could have loved him once
But this was a chance meeting
two people who found each other
a mutual desire - need to be
with someone for the night
I didn't know it would be the last time
I would have held onto the emotions
remembered more than the passion
maybe I would have remembered his name.
Sensual and moving.
DeleteWow. Very powerful.
Deletedoes keith know about this bonita? ha ha - love - paul.
DeleteVisceral! wow. That is a very strong poem indeed, and the las line is a killer. Nice work.
DeleteName doesn't always matter when it comes to passion...sometimes it is the spirit of the moment and perhaps a lover from a past life come to you in the form of a chance lover and the passion of the moment is all that matters...cling to it...
ReplyDeleteThe Last Time
ReplyDeleteThe last time I saw you when we had fun
Goofing off and laughing in the golden sun
Those times stick with me as if only yesterday
We were young and certain in all we would say
About and around took on a different sound
As we explored our boundaries of all we found
Life was an endless vista stretching ever on
we spent up the night to cash in the dawn
Burning desires flamed through our hearts
As we groped through life doing our parts
Our interpretation of a presentation of belief
Only hoping to alleviate the current days grief
The last time we met we were unencumbered
Our days were crazy and infinitely numbered
I like to think back to that last time we had
Because it brings me a smile when I'm so sad
this is beautiful... the words flow wonderfully like a song
DeleteYes, it is beautiful!! I think it's one of your best...I'm glad you keep writing!!
DeleteVery nice. You do seem to get better and better. But then that's what's supposed to happen. LOL
Deletecrazy days and goofing off. is there another way to live?
DeleteI like it, it has a very nice touch and is well rhymed and has good rhythms as well. I agreewith Victoria.
DeleteI saw her vibrant smile
ReplyDeletethe night before she died
she never cried
never felt the pain
Arlene seemed so happy
with life
but, the last time I saw her
she was
laying in a casket
cold...with twisted face
HAIL MARY FULL OF GRACE
she left four children behind
to mourn
so forlorn
so sad, crying salty tears
even after all these years
hundreds of people at the funeral
still walk through corridors
of disbelief
and slow muddy wonder
as they plunder through untold secrets
that were
hers alone...
such a sad last time... those are the hardest and worst last times...
DeleteIt was the only "last time" I could think of that had any significance in my life.
DeleteSo sad. And a wonderful poem. I have a friend who lost a 22-year-old son to drowning about a month or so ago. He is really having a hard time with it.
DeleteIt's hard losing a child...for some reason it doesn't seem natural. He should find a support group. I have a mental health therapist for grief therapy.
Deleteso sorry wolfie. i remember you telling me about this. i've no family left, but i seem to be invincible for some reason - love and peace - paul.
DeleteOh dear, yes, sad indeed, and how tragic it is when you can't do anything but grieve. Bless you. Sharing this was very brave of you. Thank you.
DeleteIn the vein of Tad and Bonnie, somehow sex got into my poem. It really didn't start out that way.
ReplyDeleteTHE LAST TIME
The last time I reached inside
my memory for a date,
I missed. That was 20, no
30, well 37
years ago that I wove those
rusty railroad ties
into macrame hangings,
the ties brought as love tokens,
offerings from the current
young hippie who shared my bed.
His soft beard nuzzled my neck,
likely now, gray as my hair.
This is a beautiful poem and it is softly written. It made me smile.
Deleteold hippies are all crinkly now vic. we old punk rockers still have lots of hair and leather jackets though....ssshhhh i'm in disguise as one of the respectable, normal people - love and peace - paul.
DeleteBeautifully spare and poignantly rich at the same time. A great feat to accomplish. You are a wonderful poet and enjoy learning from your samples of your work.
DeleteThank you all for your comments. Except Paul F. I'm not sure how to take that. LOL. You know, I AM an old hippie. Are you saying I'm all crinkly????
DeleteMoving and thought-provoking. Love the macrame railroad ties.
Deletebeautifully written and an awesome poem. love it!
ReplyDeletethese were written a couple of days ago, but first the library was closed, then i couldn't make it here, but here we go.
ReplyDeleteTHE LAST RUN
my name is paul fowler. this is my story
a last chance for death, or glory
she slipped free of glory and in to the cold of death
i remember her last breath
maybe a shadow though
to show me which way to go
she was kindness personified
when she died......i died inside
this was twelve years ago
been on the winding road
but still haven't found a way to go
she was tiny, but still a heavy load
she smelled like goddess's should smell
and had secrets i would never tell.
so sad...love the last line. secrets I would never tell... they died with her and only you know them now.
DeleteAh, yes, the lost love that remains always young and fresh in the memory no matter how many years go by. Thank you for your sharing of this very loving poem.
Deleteyes bonita and her secrets will die with me. you don't tell a goddesses's secrets to anyone....not even yourself - love and peace - paul.
Deleteall i ever wanted tash and all i ever lost. never believed there would be such a high cost - love and peace - paul.
DeleteSad story. Nicely told.
Deletethanks victoria. still hoping for a happy story.
Deleteand the second one. tried this one out on the library ladies....they liked it. i'm not so sure about the second verse.
ReplyDeleteOLD MICE STRIKE TWICE
sortta lost in the past
keep thinking every relationship is the last
when the tears go streaming down your face
and you are too in love and in the wrong place
i'll be your lighthouse
and guide you from rocky shores
to give you all that is yours
no longer need to be an unhappy mouse
in holy water thou shall douse.
thanks for reading ladies and gentlemen - love - paul.
every relationship is a new beginning but yes one of them will be the last so make good memories along the way.
DeleteI like the first verse. you could expand on it, I believe. The second one doesn't work for me...to many mixed metaphors. In some respects the first four lines,ie the first verse, could almost stand alone as a poem all by itself.
Deletedon't know if i can do another relationship bonita. i'm sortta relationshipped out. the new beginings just seem like old times - love - paul.
Deleteheeeeyyyyy i am a mixed metaphor tash ha ha - take care my friends - paul.
DeleteIt's always a good thing to think "this" relationship will be the last. If you didn't, it would mean you weren't committed.
Deletei'm always committed victoria, or what's the point? but that is also the problem....one more broken heart and i give up forever - love and peace - paul.
DeleteThe Last Time?
ReplyDeleteSometimes as I am driving down
one of the streets of our town
I think will I do this again?
Is this the last time?
I used to speak daily on the phone
with my elderly friend who lived alone
Until one day she did not call
and our last time was.
Each moment is its own last
ticking from future to become past
the hands of the clock revolve
but time does not.
Endings are unknown until
after they occur, and still
we travel on nor see what's last
until it's past.
gave me chills... yes the last time can be as Tad said and we will not know. beautifully expressed.
DeleteThank you Bonnie, I appreciate your comment very much.
Deletetick tock. tick tock
Deletewill they give death's door a knock
or pick the lock.
- love and peace - paul.
Cute verse, thanks!
DeleteYes. I think that about my mom so often. If I had known it would be the last time.
DeleteThis has been an interesting prompt to think about. One of my delights is to ponder on the weekly one in my spare moments, and then when I have time, sit own and pu hings on paper--or computer,depending. I'm working on mine for next week, and wil try to make it as good as this one.
ReplyDelete