#132 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

POETRY =

Choosing courage today…

Picture courtesy: Internet. If you own this picture and have a reservation against me posting it, I could take this down or if you approve, could give you the due credit by adding your name or link to it.

If you see this picture, you could choose to see your fear or choose to see your courage or may be whatever you connect to when you see it.

I am choosing courage today. I am willing to silence/ignore the noise of fear today, of anyone or of anything.

I am choosing to listen to the faint voice of courage to do what I must do and amplify it within and so much that it reaches you too.

I am taking that jump to reach where I must reach.  And you, go for it, what ever that may be!

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WHEN IS IT APPROPRIATE TO USE THE “F” WORD?

Quite frankly, the “F” word can be the ONLY word in the English language that accurately describes some situations.

The word is ‘FEAR’ of course!  

What in the world were you thinking?  …

Sometimes I worry about you.

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Sentenced

My first thought
When my daughter was born
Was that I just killed someone.

Her gurgling cries of life
Contrasted with the ominous, death tone
Of her mother’s solemn flatline.

And as the doctors hung their heads,
Declaring my lovely wife dead,
I realized I had just killed again.

HAIKU: ELEVEN OLD MEN

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Eleven Old Men

Cochi

Deep ploughed grooves
reveal treasures between vines
broken pots, beads, loom weights,

Mountain of Apprehension

A somber fear grows deep down
That, ere I near the mountain crown,
Silent tears will slip off eyelash cliffs
And tumble down the deep abyss,
As flames lick and lame my knee
Forcing me to falter and flee
To hours of painful descent in defeat,
Beaten by gravity, compelled to retreat.
Gritting my teeth, head bowed in shame,
Drooped with the burden of bearing the blame.

23:32

Fear.

The Oak

In the park there stands an old oak.
I know not how aged it is,
But it was here before I was
And it will remain long after I do not.

Every morning I pass by its thick trunk,
The oak waves its branches, goodbye.
And every night I drunkenly stumble home,
It’s standing still, in silent judgment.

Even when I dash past and miss its farewell
In the rush to catch the last possible train
To $9.50 an hour misery with no future,
I know the stoic oak is standing there,
Gayly laughing at my fleeting and meaningless struggles.

Football Militants

Flags as large as ships’ sails
Waive to and fro in solidarity,
Billowing with pride.

The masses—
Whose fully erect arms
Are only an open palm away
From a formal Nazi salute—
Fill the flowing tapestry of banners
With air warmed by their impassioned voices
As they chant and sing
The acrid cries of war.

Break Away

Brown petal falling;
White life now wilted, but free
To Fear and Tremble.

HAIKU: WHY IS HE AFRAID

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Why Is He Afraid

I Rise Again

“How can you rise if you have never burned? Ever baked a cake?”

Off life when you take

Dreams what you make

Fears that shake

Those tears can’t be fake.

And So It Begins

And so it begins, again,
that urge to shrink from
the cool touch of machines;
the hushed offices,
the looks of concern,
the competent compassion.
Maddening, imprecise precision–
“the blood test found something, we
need to do more tests…..
something’s there
on her scans…”
a blurry, thicker patch there,
spots on bone, lung, breast, too.

My Old Book of Poetry & Prose.

Please, feel free to help an aspiring artist, writer, poet, and musician achieve his lifelong destiny for success. Thanks in advance. Kyle T. Dibert’s Book of Poetry

Poetic Junkies

Original KYLE T. DIBERT, DECEMBER 20th, 2017:

…shooting up the veins of the heart city, – a hundred miles an hour – as a a good junkie does well, and I can tell, that, despite admiration, I am fated for hell & yet oh well I don’t mind where all the ground fell while I was staring up at you through this miraculous well, and you were bankrupt before you decided to sell, and at your coffin, coughing casualties at commiserating children kissing flowers, praying by the hour, to not tower thus so high that one falls and usurps vitality, – power which dwindles stale & dwindles thus more sour; as if in high

Limerick – Fear

She was an Amazon, nothing to fear

Rivers gave way, her step taps near

Mountains shrunk, melted cheese

Bowing down, low wild white geese

Earth quaked and ate her, no tear
image: rileystark.deviantart.com

HESITATION

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

It’s the kiss of death
to your dreams
and your hopes,
to new love
and adventure 

an instant thought
that explodes
in your mind

#132 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

POETRY =

Fear

*Alliteration Poem – Fear*

9th Oct’17  ~by Venkat

Feathers flayed, fumble feet
Fingers faint, flush fortunes
Faces float, float fires
Frozen fumes, faded feasts

My Friend and Her Anxiety

Over and over on a Ferris wheel, she will not come down,
have her meal, will not admit that she is afraid
that the contraption revolving around her heart may one day die.

She’d rather sit there, all hours, observe the heights
and the tops of towers, reach her fingertips up as she drops
to brush the illusions, feel the felt and wool of a god’s eyelash
she dreamt of the night before.

Fear

The opposite of courage

The backside of love & creativity

Its tendrils approach from behind

Silently wrapping themselves around your neck

Until you are paralyzed

Suffocating in its sticky web

Fickle Sanctuary

Please let me stay here
Don’t make me go
HE is out there

HAIKU: THE SECRETS YOU KEEP

By Charles Robert Lindholm

The secrets you keep

in the shadows and darkness

PAST

Past
Haunts me more
Than it ever did before
For it has a longer history to pour

Haunted
I stick to myself
Holding tight I wonder
More about the consequences
That could have been well mended

SHE KNEW ME TOO WELL

By Charles Robert Lindholm

 

She had no fear

that I would run

she had no shame

for what she’d done

Love

To think, you’re finally here with me!
After years of relentless, flirtatious banter,
Sometimes as playful as puppies, we were:
Other times more serious than a snake bite–
Yet ever fruitless my affections were.

Unattainably distant, you seemed to me.
A hazy speck just beyond the horizon,
Across the ocean of my life.
And I, stranded on my little island,
Couldn’t possibly build a smoke signal
Tall enough to alert your look-out.

No Ordinary Love

Inspired by You + Me’s haunting cover of No Ordinary Love

---

Reaching across

a distance

more formidable than

miles

fathoms

leagues

you reached out