#191 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

#185 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

Of this world…

A face lay there in eternal sleep,
No smile.
No frown.
I wonder,
“After all, smiles and frowns are of this world”.

“Mine”

I own nothing
The ideas I present
The feelings I feel
The thoughts I think
And, the words I used
Or continue to use to express myself.
Everything, ever that has been
Has been through:
Absorption, assimilation, memorization
Recollection, repetition and more memorization.

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“Sleep”

Picture courtesy: internet. If you own this please inform me, I would either take this down or shall provide you due credit by adding name or link.

Walking gently into the night.. What’s left is these last drops of light..Soon the final shades of colors will become one.. Time is about to lose its significance and space is about to lose limits.. Nothing about my world will be carried forward.. My sorrows and my happinesses can accompany me till this gate alone, as “sleep” needs neither.. All that there exists now is an unending continuum, till my alarm goes on..

For Pops

Look at me now Pops, I’m an older man now
I’m past sixty, the years have flown by
That slap in the face
has long turned to grace
yet still on this day I will cry

Nineteenth of February nineteen seventy-four
etched in my mind for all time
The day that you left
leaving family bereft
although all these years later we’re fine

This Mortal Wound

I felt for a while that grief would undo death.

Did it?

No.

But I believed it might, if it were deep enough.

My cynic friend finally laughs at me.

Life is a fatal condition, my friend. Don’t you get that yet?

All the bandages in the world, all the disinfectants, all the healthy diets

can never heal that fatal gash we’ve had since the first moments,

Three Fates. One
fate, with three faces.

‘We strut and fret our hour on the stage
and then are heard no more’
Everything has a time limit here.

Such a gloomy cynic! You take away all hope.

Not at all. You don’t have to turn this into something.
You don’t need to get upset.
Think of yourself as dead already,
that you’ve lived your life.
Now you’re free to take what time is left and
live it as it should be lived.
It just takes being indifferent to what makes no difference.
And most of what we say and do is not essential.

Listen. Just do this. 
Go out into the desert just once. 
Lie down and look up at the stars,
A blackness filled with light so thick it seems alive

Let it bewilder you, and overtake you. 
As you shiver, though, it is not the cool air, 
but an angel that lies down beside you, 
and you’ll know that something 
beyond imagining awaits. 

SELF-CENTERED REBELS

By Keza And Charles Robert Lindholm

Mask on my face,
like a patriot should

I Look here,
I look there
and see those
who do not care

Center

An end comes, eventually.

I struggle with that. Don’t you?

But hear me out.

I dreamt once of my age, at my ending.

Not too close, still closer than it used to be.

Later, when a terrible loss tore me in two,

It also reminded me that,

Like the most exquisite flower,

death will come.

NO GOODBYE KISS – FOR CORONAVIRUS VICTIMS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

They’re
Dying Alone,
With No Hand
To Hold – No Goodbye
Kiss

Copyright © 2020 Charles Robert Lindholm – The Reluctant Poet
All Rights Reserved – 03-28-2020 – 9:45 A.M.

For all the beloved coronavirus victims around the world and those
who loved them so dearly,  and who’s hearts are broken!  And now must
wait for the great beyond for a reunion!!!

Please Come Explore My Archives On Poet’s Corner And The Reluctant Poet Blogs!!

SELF-CENTERED REBELS

By Keza And Charles Robert Lindholm

Mask on my face,
like a patriot should

I Look here,
I look there
and see those
who do not care

Just A Song

98 days of trump and his wall

98 days of trump

take one down

like his wall hit the ground

97 days of trump and his wall…O’Prunty 7/27/2020

SELF-CENTERED REBELS

By Keza And Charles Robert Lindholm

Mask on my face,
like a patriot should

I Look here,
I look there
and see those
who do not care

Dystopia

Denial…delay…deception…trumps response to Covid19 Pandemic

Over 107,000 dead.

Insensitive…Inept…Inarticulate…trumps response to George Floyd

Devoid of empathy, compassion.

Brutality…Brandishing… Bayonets…trumps response to Protests

“Battelspace” war cry on peaceful protesters.

Defiling one of God’s House for… Now wait for it……………………………

“The Most sacrilegious photo-op in American History”…trumps response to jealousy (Biden)

Just a friendly reminder: “There were NO reports of ‘looting’ until AFTER trump tweeted:

“When the looting starts the shooting starts”…a racial slur from 1968.

FACT: American Generals Are Fed Up With trumps Racists BullShit

The Revered General Mattis made that PERFECTLY Clear!

FACT:  Esper? “I am against the Insurrection Act at this ‘time’”…

Americans are on edge wondering if he will retain Honor and Integrity for the United States Military or be pulled into the dictator wanna be’s attempt to “Dominate” the American people.

FACT: DEMOCRACY UNDER THREAT!

FACT: DEMOCRACY UNDER THREAT!

O’Prunty 6/6/2020

Protests 2020…America on Fire

We will NOT be oppressed by this vile form of a human being.

Fight like your lives and democracy depends on it – because it does!!

#protest2020 #HitlerWannaBe #UNFIT #Congress #USAonFire trump

wanted this war on Americans.

#VoteBlueToSaveAmerica2020 RT the hell out of this

O’Prunty

6/2/2020

He Stoked The Fires

he stoked the fires

hiding behind white walls

reveled in the discord

imagined himself just:

the jester’s jester…O’Prunty

5/30/2020

Americans Have Sacrificed So Much For What?

The voices of the dead can not cry

so we cry for them

we cry for answers, justice, equality

and we cry for accountability.

A. L. O’Prunty

Wayfarers

I wander toward
an unknown destination.
Pretending a purpose.
As do you.

Free (for a change).
Hungry to learn your ways, how you touch,
why you sigh, where
your shy ecstasy waits.

The sunrise, the sunset.
The passing of the seasons.
New life in the spring.
A baby’s smell.

Each moment burns bright,
then is gone. Another comes.
God is there.
Listen.

Death has been
my companion,
making life sweeter. Happiness?
Never permanent.

Rejoice.

SIX MONTHS

How can I help fill your final days

Of your precious life with beauty?

May we laugh or cry together

sharing memories?

Or should we create more?

May I help you write your stories

And poems to those you leave behind?

So you may say to the world

I lived, I was here

If nothing else

I am here

I am here

to listen

 

photo by pixabay

-15.09.19_22:56-

I’ve reached the age

Where Death, once a seldom seen acquaintance

9/11/2001

9/11/2001
By Charles Robert Lindholm

Nine  – Eleven – Two Thousand And One

Was A Day In American History
That Will Always Be Remembered
For The Hostile Attack On Our Homeland

Ghost Ocean

Waves throw up on the shore
remnants of ocean lives
tangles of plastic
debris from both sides
of a blurring boundary.
Revealing hints of the diversity underneath
and of the death we impose.

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond

https://thecheesesellerswife.wordpress.com/

 

What Comes Before Silence

Death is not bitter
death is a silence
But dying is bitter.
Dying is hard.
With you,
it was the sound.

It was like drowning,
no detail spared,
in slow motion…

with metastases of cancer
that filled the lungs
and grew, sending out
ghastly spawn to live in bone

THE THRILL OF WRITING

By Charles Robert Lindholm

I Hear The Rhythm
Of My Pulse Beating
Between My Ears
As I Tap, Tap, Tap The Keys

Dreaded Whispers

Cotinus Young Lady-SmokeBush-Asitcomes

Been gardening again… I love this plant.

Strokes of moonlight smother
the inflorescent
whispers of the smoke bush

wavering against twilight’s
ghostly dreams
while pondering the water,
pondering depth and death.

HE BETRAYED HER HEART

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Sitting Alone At The Bar
Nursing A Whiskey
In The Middle Of The Afternoon
With A Far Away Look In His Eyes

I Sat Down Next To Him
And Asked The Barkeep For A Beer
To Quench The Thirst
Of A Humid Summer Day

YOU ARE MY FOREVER AND ALWAYS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

From The First Time
I Laid Eyes On You
I Loved You

It Was Love At First Sight,
And You Stole My Heart
Forever

That Moment
Was The Start
Of Me Loving You

Summer Wars

The dust of Summer,
rubber, barbecue and
mT air that I beg might bring the rains, Neruda’s
gold ghost, Las Manos del Dia under an umbrella say
do I comprehend, how much it may mean
to meet a grizzled old tree
hale and green
after the many deaths
of teething Winter,
hollow poems
no justice
they cannot say,
Longfellow is out walking
my cautious light around the park.