Hello
Yesterday each step smelled like perfume
Plumeria and harvest rose in bloom
In present moment
Dreams
They look ahead
No fear of future fate
No future dread
We don’t look back, we only look ahead
Until the end
And we are nearly dead
And emptiness ‘round corner comes to view
Or with some luck
Perchance there’s something new
And with one kiss
We say to earth Goodbye
And hope our fleshly pains
Are but mellow
And when at once we meet that Godly eye
We can embrace with heartfelt love
Hello
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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The Voice
Hey you
talking to me with your forked tongue
Go ahead
Keep telling me your lies
I can spot deception a mile away
You don't fool me
Just when I think you're gone for good
you show up again
putting me into a state of confusion and chaos
by saying what you think I want to hear
A constant tease that makes me
feel like a tangled mass of nerves
First you say you love me,
I turn around, and then you hate me
never seeming to make up your mind
Why do you do this to me?
Two faced bastard
I can't take this anymore
I won't listen
Get out of my head or you're dead
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Goodbye
Turn off the light
Let darkness come
Like some long dead blank being
Just drown yourself in all of it
Remembering not a thing
When we are young the hands of time
Move not and all is golden
When we look back
Our hearts the same
But body pained and broken
Just close your eyes
Before you die
As God puts out His hand
Goodbye green earth, Goodbye my lambs
It's time for my rebirth
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
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Never Give Up On Hope
Never give up on hope never give up who knows what tomorrow will bring
Keep on hoping for a happier future for hope is a marvellous thing
Lady luck she may smile on you good things come to those who wait
Who knows in the not distant future you may have cause to celebrate
A first division win in tattslotto or some other unexpected windfall
Life does have it's good and it's hard times and it's good and bad memories to recall
Never give up on hope always keep on hoping your good times for you may be ahead
You cannot hold much hope for the future if hope in you is all but dead
If you succumb to feelings of negativity the universe out there you do tell
That you are happy with the hard life and you accept an earthly hell
Never give up on hope for hope springs eternal the quitter cannot hope to succeed
But if hope in you is ever present it will serve you in your time of need
So never give up on hope tomorrow well may be better and the good times for you may be ahead
You do not have much of a future if hope in you is all but dead.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Rebecca Berkowitz
She writes love on her arms
Drips it on pages
Goes to the bathroom
to
pick her nose
Then
worships the sages
Don't look now
She's playful
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Der Liebesbrief
How have you been? My dear, my dear
You have not written in nary a year
Oh really? It's only been two or three months?
Whatever, whatever, it feels like a bunch
You think that it's funny, that's verdantly clear
Don't worry, I'm gone so there's nothing to fear
But I thought that I'd write a few lines so you'd know
I've moved on just as you writing poems as I go
And like you I'm a cynic so why should I care?
That you left me without having shed any tears
And those days that my heart feels it's tourniquet choke
I ignore with a whiskey, TV and a smoke
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Cemetery Yard
It takes me fifteen minutes walking fast, but not that far
Three rights, a left, then straight ahead to Cemetery Yard
It sits upon the corner of Macarthur and Fleet Streets
I go there every Wednesday to see ghosts I like to meet
The entry is medieval with it's gated ironwork bars
But there hasn’t been a gatekeeper for many, many years
So I walk right in and I can have a conversation with
The Captain Robert Cunningham or wife of Mister Smith
And who these dried up people were back then God only knows
For their tombstones only have their names and some don't even show
But I speak to them like they’re alive or maybe I am dead?
But either way I'm speaking to them all within my head
Captain Robert Cunningham says 'Thanks for coming here
'Cause back in eighteen sixty five it was the very year
I was in a bluish uniform when under an attack
I was aiming for confederates when shot straight in the back'
At which time I find I'm lacking in appropriate reply
Over all the awe that I now feel about his sacrifice
'Well Captain, not that much has changed and I can’t really lie
The question is not who we were, but how it was we died'
And the grave of Mrs. Smith next to him quietly there sits
Calling out for my attention, so attention I do split
And she tells me that one Christmas Eve while milking in the barn
Two red faced angry Indians strode in and she was harmed
Though she did whatever she could do to put up a good fight
They stuck a knife right through her on that territorial night
'Sara tell me, please, please tell me, am I right or am I wrong?
Do my children lay beside me, or did they live on and on? ”
But the courage isn't in me 'cause the tombstone dates don't lie
'Mrs. Smith, it isn’t if we lived, but how it was we died'
And a couple hours later when it was time to go back home
And I felt that they were satisfied with being left alone
I turned around and looking down I asked them with a sigh
“You have all of the experience…How is it one should die? ”
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Walking on Land
Who she was exists no more
Moved ahead and closed the door
But neer shall she forget those days
They haunt and linger, hardly stray
She was a lassie who from birth
Cherished the sea with joy and mirth
Treasuring it's beauty above all else
All of it's water, sand and shells
Out of the channel she'd sail her rig
Her heartbeat dancing a little jig
The ocean her lover and she it's bride
She'd plow it's depths so blue and wide
At home on her ship she'd search for air
Driving it outward as hard as she dared
Her happiness growing with every mile
Never a sorrow, only a smile
But all good things will meet their end
Changes come and you must bend
For nothing is ever meant to last
You roll and play the die that's cast
So when you find a chapter ends
And melancholy your best friend
Don't think upon it as Goodbye
Till memories fade or your have died
Written By Sara Fielder © 1998
NOTE: This poem was written when I moved from Hawaii to the mainland USA after having been accustomed to living on a sailboat for 15 years.
poem by Sara Fielder
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Patrick
Back then, when life was green among the curly ferns
And it was happy as the height of crystal night
My brother was my younger treasure
And we would daily play
by climbing trees and building forts with skinly knees
We were milky soft
Our eyes, they shined
And there was no such thing as watching time
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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There Is Hope For The Future
The bombs have caused death and destruction and the families mourn their dead
But there is hope for the future for better days ahead
When those for peace and World harmony will finally prevail
For those who talk of waging war are surely doomed to fail.
There is hope for the future though I may not live to see my dream
Of a better life for everyone in a World where peace will reign supreme
A World free of borders and camps for refugees
Where the smell of death and destruction is not blowing in the breeze
There is hope for the future around me not all dark
I hear young children playing in the playground in the park
The children are the future and they may well unite
Behind a peaceful leader who won't lead by power of might.
There is hope for the future and all surely not lost
Though there won't be peace tomorrow and 'twill come at a great cost
The Rose of Peace will bloom again though with the dead I lay
And the young and enlightened leaders to peace will lead the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Piper's First Bath
I saw you in dream-filled sleep
I could see behind your eyes the golden haze of heaven
Unfolding into a room paved with diamonds
Sparkling so brightly they almost burned your skin
The angel beckoned you to come a calling
To their Wisdom Room
“Fare thee well Piper. Stand strong.
Be as brave as ten men when life gives you a black eye
Until we meet again…”
Piper smiled at the angels
She had known them ten thousand ten thousand years
Even though she had left home
She knew her Earth mother loved her
As powerfully as God himself
I saw her smile behind the veil that separated us from
The Wisdom Room
And the room where I was rocking her
Her father had painted a wise old owl on the wall
Signifying her future
Signifying her destiny for all divine goodness
Evidenced by her most precious face
Evidenced by her most precious manner
The angels stopped talking for the moment
Piper opened her eyes and looked up at me
I wanted to explain the inexplicable world
That she had come to briefly visit
I wanted to hold her for her whole lifetime but
It was time to give her
Her first bath
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
NOTE: Written for one week old Piper. The daughter of a beloved friend.
poem by Sara Fielder
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We Can Only Live In The Here And Now
We cannot live in the future the future of us is ahead
And the past has gone forever though memories of it are not dead
We can only live in the here and now though the clock keeps ticking on
And the future we don't know about and the past forever gone
Some say we receive from life from life what is our due
Though many fall victim of bad circumstance so happens to be true
And though some will also tell you hard times are not meant to last
Those who do not have a future are those who have had a tragic past
The rags to riches stories to say the least are rare
Though lady luck can make of you an instant millionaire
Though of one who has won first division lotto I for one am not aware
For such extremely lucky people to say the least are rare
The future is ahead of us and the past forever gone
And we can only live in the here and now though time is ticking on.
]
poem by Francis Duggan
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Deer Chili
He would walk out alone two by two into the Mishy Mashy woods allot
To find what he'd forgot
On this day, when the air smelled of meat
Charred and blackened on crusting surfaces of peat
He remembered that the sun was on time,
And that he had to find what he had missed before he got too old
He climbed up high to reach the handy stand foot by foot wherein
The foggy canopy space is curvy and dewdrops are pearly
Thinking that his slicker slacker was too bright for them to see,
He misted his pelt smelt
The cranberry clearing below was regretfully empty
Yesterday, it bore the color of lavender and reddish gold
He tried to clear the muggles from his mind or take a lichen to them,
But he couldn't
So he put away his bow and handed himself a pocket
In it was the hair of a locket fair and bygone losted
His body was frosted
Still, as he ran his fingers through it he gladdened
And sparked the why of which he mainly camed
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Red Hawks
Red hawks dive and swoop and soar
High above me-Could I ask for more?
I envy their majestic wings
Their view encompassing everything!
The sky is their domain no doubt
With sunlit clouds and wind about
Circling for prey with greedy eyes
Danger and beauty combined in the skies
Marvelous curiosity fills my mind with awe
Such willful defiance of gravity I never saw!
Godly miracle, the slotted wing
Unstable air to it, a minor thing
I declare these birds the Kings of Flight
Intelligent and regal in my sight
Watch them yourself and you'll believe
Seeing you there, your heart will sing
Written by Sara Fielder © 1997
poem by Sara Fielder
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Steps
Maybe one step ahead, maybe two
I could ease my day a little
Maybe two steps ahead, maybe twenty
I won’t be chased in doing my work
Maybe twenty steps ahead, maybe plenty
I could enjoy my day at peace
Maybe plenty steps ahead, maybe more
I won’t be surprised by any outcome
Maybe more steps ahead, maybe none
I let my life to be freely flow
Maybe no step ahead, maybe just one
I could focus on what I want to achieve
Maybe one step ahead, maybe two
I could take a little nap
Maybe two steps ahead, maybe twenty
I won’t be alerted every time
Maybe twenty steps ahead, maybe plenty
I could prepare the worst
Maybe plenty steps ahead, maybe more
I won’t be bothered by all strategy maneuvers
Maybe more steps ahead, maybe none
I don’t really care about that anymore
Maybe no step ahead, maybe just one
I won’t waste my energy to worry
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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mrs P.A.S.T
Past, present, future where am I
Because i still cry 4 past
I still smile because of u present
And i still need u future...
I took a step back yesterday..
And realized I'm still in my previous..
but present told me 2 let go
I said i couldn't
'It Once Made Me Smile'..
Future laughed
And said
so unfortunate Mr Past wont be there in my chapter..
so i cried
poem by Gift Macozoma
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Overflow
I don't need ritualistic liturgy
To know God lives inside of me
No holy water on my head
A rosary my fingers thread
He makes up every single ounce
Of my being
My heart overflows
And my voice wants to scream
Till I burst into tiny microscopic beams
Of light and fire and sparks
That gleam
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Your Ascent
How many times you’ve fallen means nothing.
It’s how many times you got up that make the difference.
Your climb toward life’s summit will suffer falls if you’ve charted a high enough course.
Each fall only makes your ascent sweeter if you arise wiser and continue.
Plan your next step rather than fearing your next fall.
If you start with fear, you have already fallen even before taking your next step.
During your ascent, you will rise and fall like the sea.
As the falls rise take care; as the rises fall take heart.
Beware of a slide masquerading as smooth ride.
As the tempo quickens, remember a fall is fast, an ascent slow.
Look ahead with your eyes and behind with your memory.
While ascending don’t let your vision be blurred by your memory.
Remember the past only as it can relate to your present and future.
The past without reference is nothing, but the past with only remorse is worse than nothing.
See the present for what it is rather than should have been.
Live the present before it is the past while planning for the future before it is the present.
During your ascent think quickly, but deliberately.
What you have put behind will gain on you if you don’t keep moving ahead.
Keep your mind on the summit, your eyes on the ascent and your foot on the very next step.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Your Dream Of Great Happiness
Your dream of great happiness for you has not come true
And a change of luck 'twould seem you are overdue
But of hopes for the future you do not despair
And through the hard times you have hung in there
Yet you feel that the good days for you are ahead
And hope for the future in you is not dead
With your darkest of times you have learned how to cope
And you look to the future with positive hope
Your dream for future happiness from you has not gone
With your battles of life you just keep keeping on
You've experienced some financial trouble of late
But 'tis said good times come to all of those who wait
This journey through life it can often be rough
But you hang in there though you find the going tough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dimension Merge
For us the past has gone and the present moves on
into the yesterday of a future’s present time.
Despite living in the future’s past this will not last,
present and future will very soon combine.
Future or dimension, to some a misapprehension,
but they are one in the same.
If there’s more than one, they will follow on
to leave one, with it’s present name.
On merging we’ll realise we’ve no future to recognise,
and the past and present is all we’ll know.
The past will still be renewed, with each day used,
but the future will mean only tomorrow.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Watching Mother Die
Class is almost over
And the bell's about to ring
As she slips away to darkness
Praying 'What's next? Anything? '
And she asks for God's forgiveness
Drawing in her last frail breath
Sill at least the pain is over
Though He might not plumb exist
And I wonder if she's lonely
And I wonder if she's scared
To let go of all the ego
Eighty years that she has carried
But I'm too afraid to ask her
Her last thoughts before she goes
Does she think she'll be transported?
No one's been there, no one knows
Then I cry to think who I'll become
When her soul finally leaves
And I hate myself for wondering that
It isn't about me
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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