Today I stopped at a baby’s smile
Caught off guard by its total lack
of defense and boundary,
without a care for walls to hold at bay
a world grown cold and dull with pain.
I stopped and paid homage to that smile
because it gives me hope that one day, I would be at home.
Sometimes I reflect on those who are stranded in time
whose reality lie shattered at the feet of the callous,
reliving their painful circumstances in some instinctive way
satisfies the longing for human connection,
evidence, at least, that even dementia cannot break the mold;
We are and must all strive to be twain.
We must all have the hope that one day “I would be at home”.
For now I wander through one day to the next,
they are the rooms of a house bereft
of furnishings and warmth
whose bare walls just give respite
from the cold night air and harsh sunlight.
I plod on through these empty spaces and times
because of my hope that one day, I would be at home.
Copyright © 2003 by Judy Rocke
What is a song if not poetry dressed in melody to sing along? (© G. Newton V. Chance)
Friday, October 31, 2008
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- G. NEWTON V. CHANCE
- George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
by Langston Hughes
the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)
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