Archive for poems

Heart of a lover

Posted in poems with tags , , , , , , on January 23, 2016 by Charles Bernard

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Come home my handsome lord
The moon is out to seek lovers
Come! let’s delight in its light
Forget the warm bosom of virgins

Nectar is sweet only for a while
Honey soothes the body and mind
Leave the drunks at their table
Come feast on a royal table

Forget philosophers and their words
Would they ever understand Love?
Come and hear of your future glories
In my bosom your happiness lies

Even without riches of gold
Or the features of your body
I will be by you my love
Steady and strong

Smiling and telling you
Sweet life stories all barren years
Till the rain returns
To our heart’s delight

You are my moon and my bloom
My rain and my rainbow
My tears and my laughter
My strength and my love

 

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Broken Spell

Posted in poems with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 18, 2016 by Charles Bernard

broken spell

Life is a miracle and love a myth
Finding the perfect one is the magic
Plenty perfect faces in the crowd
Coming and going in a frenzy
Once the spell is cast
The magic begins to take toll
 
You re-live in your head
Every little moment spent together
Even your dreams and thoughts
Becomes a theater for her show
Reality merges with illusions
Then slowly you are drown
Deep down the toxic ocean of love
 
At dawn, it is her voice you crave
At dusk, it is her arms and lips
Beneath the moonlight
Her eyes sparkle like no other
At the first hint of sunlight
Her thoughts sets the day off
 
Life is a miracle and love is magic
Endlessly you spun poems about her
Singing love songs with vivid images
You see beauty in everything
Even shadows take an abstract beauty
Such is the power of love’s spell
 
One morning you wake alone
A stale smell of sweat from the nightmare oozes
You start to remember it all
How it went down crumbling
The little fights and without warning
She had fled!
 
#greendiarynotes

POETRY IS A WOMAN

Posted in poems with tags , , , , on January 8, 2016 by Charles Bernard

blackdancers

One of those lonely nights
When warm arms is greatly desired
The cold so harsh my skin cracks
In desperation I took to poetry
To ease my every pain
Nothing formed in my imagination
So I drifted off into an illusion
Soon my pen hit the floor
Around some dark corner
A guitar stood against the wall
Sorrowfully I pulled at the strings
Melody in harmony with my soul
Around me I saw beautiful maidens
Slowly we sang my song
Tears filled their eyes
In their sorrow I captured my pain
In their eyes my being reflected
No words could describe
The perfect picture painted
Here was poetry written in a maze
I was dazed by the warmth
Conjugal bliss without a touch
Enchanted by the magic of the moment
An aura of woman hood
I drifted back with a smile on me
A blank sheet staring back

The policemen and the bus driver

Posted in poems with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 6, 2016 by Charles Bernard

They live on this particular street Just further down after a junction One big family of boggling belle men Clothed in black and strapped with rusty guns Here they make separate laws Every passerby must pay tax Through same route the bus driver Ply his trade, seeking daily bread With his bundle of painted metals That threaten to always fall apart With all his might and strength, he hustles Struggling all the way to make ends meet Each time the bus driver passes, he pays Without checking papers and luggage The men in black wave him on Happy and contented with their loot The driver mumbles as he drives away Wondering what he had paid for? Over the years, the looting became a norm Norm the men in black took serious Come what may (Condemnations and counter laws) They fend off the other man’s meager income Yet leave him at the mercy of real criminals A duty, duly paid for. . One day the bus driver had nothing to give He begged and begged, but the other men refused Hardhearted and in-movable they stood Angry, the bus driver turned on his ignition Angry the men in black cocked their rusty guns He shifted gears, they pulled their triggers

They live on this particular street
Just further down after a junction
One big family of boggling belle men
Clothed in black and strapped with rusty guns
Here they make separate laws
Every passerby must pay tax

Through same route the bus driver
Ply his trade, seeking daily bread
With his bundle of painted metals
That threaten to always fall apart
With all his might and strength, he hustles
Struggling all the way to make ends meet

Each time the bus driver passes, he pays
Without checking papers and luggage
The men in black wave him on
Happy and contented with their loot
The driver mumbles as he drives away
Wondering what he had paid for?

Over the years, the looting became a norm
Norm the men in black took serious
Come what may (Condemnations and counter laws)
They fend off the other man’s meager income
Yet leave him at the mercy of real criminals
A duty, duly paid for. .

One day the bus driver had nothing to give
He begged and begged, but the other men refused
Hardhearted and in-movable they stood
Angry, the bus driver turned on his ignition
Angry the men in black cocked their rusty guns
He shifted gears, they pulled their triggers

DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

Posted in random with tags , , , , , on October 31, 2015 by Charles Bernard

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I know these streets well
Every route running through
Ones with stinking refuse
Those adorned with flowers
Where the crooks hide
Where men rabble about God

I have seen the struggles
The fight to survive
The many shades of failure
Tiny glimpses of success
Hope of many dead men
Their dreams buried with them

I know the painful scourge
The sensation of the sun
Burning the neck
The sweat soaking the shirts
The smell that followed
The beggar beneath it all

I am neither here or there
I am a man in motion
Caught between dreams and nightmares
Living my everyday
Between both extremes
I am too tough to snap

I have seen miracles
I have witnessed karma
I have heard prophesies
Also I have seen,
Nightmares become dreams
And dreams become reality

My Roomy “Bash”

Posted in poems with tags , , , , , , , on December 2, 2012 by Charles Bernard

Sometimes when am all by my self

I go on painting mental pictures

Of you and me co-existing

Sharing everything together

 

I often wonder how you put up with me

Tolerating my temper with a smile

Even when I have done the worst

I bother not you will be offended

 

Those little moments we had alone

Loads of them  scattered in my memory

The knowing smile we shared

When people instigated us to fight

 

Am sorry for the countless time I erred

I know how hurt you must feel

About my complex nature

I understand you the truth of how I feel

 

I too care deeply about your feelings

I respect your views on most things

I think deeply about your words

I keep them tucked away in my head

 

I must not tell you how much I miss you

How I miss learning from you

I even make my bed every morning now

I clear the table after eating now

 

You will be surprised how much

I have changed since we left school

How I keep you alive with my habits

I recently bought a green toothbrush

 

At night when I can’t find a pen to write

I unconsciously go in search of your bag

I even keep small bills under my pillow

It is hard to live without you roomy

 

I can’t recall a day I haven’t missed you

It hits me hard at 3 am or 4 am

When I had written  some garbage

And all I desired was a listening ear

 

I hate to look at our pictures too

How the bring tears to my eyes

In your shadow I lived all these years

You had carried me quietly along

 

Baba you messed up the tiles again

Baba turn the music down a bit

Baba this place is stuffy

You endured me with a smile

 

Words alone can’t express how I feel

Nor can you ever know how I feel

In my heart I keep you safe

In my head your memories tucked away forever

my roomy n me

my roomy n me

My birthday is tomorrow so i have decided to upload some of my early poetry work way back…

Posted in poems, thoughts with tags , , , on September 27, 2012 by Charles Bernard

A Quiet Moment

The moving sea appears motionless and

the air ceases to exist

A poem awakens in my mind and

favorite blue song on my lips

Time matters not any more as

the world before me stretches far beyond

Puzzled thoughts twists free as

my mind transcends to great beyond

Life moving slowly light like

sun rays depart the sea surface

Neither sadness nor happiness is felt but

an inner peace witnessed

A quiet tap on the shoulder and

all my illusions shattered

Just once more the word moves on…

Yesterday

Though it is gone I still hold unto it

Away with you gone I still keep the pictures

In my thoughts and in my bed

It was good to me cause you smiled in them

It was good to me cause I had happiness

I had you and you had me

It is this world you left me behind in…

Poor Love

Much happiness and laughter no foundation

Coated with much lies and betrayal

Glitters like a fake diamond

Shatters like a glass plate when it hit rocks

The innocent partner languishes

The other shine in the light

People start to ask questions

The answer is poor love

The First Day

As we walked down the street i felt a new beginning

In your eyes i saw both weakness and strength

The world stood still when you held me in your gaze

The sun set in your eyes and the moon inflamed it

Your arms was warm and comforting

Even when you dazzled away i still saw you

Your name was on my lips when i awoke the next day

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