Heavy Head #1

You will never be the person you can be if pressure, tension and discipline are taken out of your life.

James Bilky

When my heavy head hits the pillow
I dream about being a hero

Soaring through the clear blue skies
Like a bird on his way to save the lives

Of chicks at rest in the nest-
Nestled in the branches of the tall tree

Teaching them how best to set
Their wings free when in sky they want to fly.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

The Shining Star

If past history was all there was to the game, the richest people would be librarians.

Warren Buffet

Oh! What can ail thee, shining star in the sky?’
That have watched over me from a place afar;
With your wandering eye, there were the birds fly,
Way up high in the sky to hide from the war.

For many years have I been bright in the night.
Whilst watching over the warm earth with my eye,
I have seen many a thing has dimmed my light.
Such as when you humans make each other cry.

For many years have I watched you from afar.
And even from here I hear sounds as men die,
Rippling through the still air into my ear.
Making me cry as tears with my eye I spy.

And just as men get wounds fighting in the war.
And get nasty scars that cling to them for life.
So has this shining star been wounded with scar,
By what he saw that cut him like a sharp knife.

And so, this pain I gained in my side;
Is what ails a shining star in the sky,
At night when his light is not so bright.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Buy me a pen and paper?

The Vacant Chair

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. But, today is a gift…it’s why its called the ‘present’.

The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
For it has not been sat on since you left to warm
The bed of some lucky guy who’s hinges have not rusted
To the point that they could not be trusted to hold
The full weight of your soul that’s whole in your body.

The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
Fast accumulating since last you sat on it
To warm with body as well as wiles of women
You used to seduce me into out of its desk
Pull it slowly out for you, just so you could sit.

But you tired and left it in a state vacant
Of your touch and the support it had to give you.
The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
Since you left, so sit in it by myself I must.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Women In Magazines

The road to success is always under construction. It is a progressive course, not an end in itself.

Man! How I hate women in magazine’s-

I look at them
and want not to look away
For the monkey in my mind will stray
Back to thoughts of their beauty-
That make many a lady moody.

Man! how I hate women in magazine’s-

Smiling with their perfectly white teeth
Confident in their unblemished skin-

With not a pimple on their cheeks
Or a wrinkle beside their eyes.

Man! how I hate women in magazine’s-

Looking perfect in a world imperfect.
Making many a lady aware of the defects,

They possess decreasing their beauty
So they show themselves not in society-

Freckles in the face
Seen as a disgrace.

A pimple on the chin
Will never aid you win
The heart of a man.

Man! how I hate women in magazine’s-

Hiding themselves behind makeup
To mask their freckles
And their wrinkles
And their pimples

But never ever their dimples.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

The Best in Town

Reach high, for stars lie hidden in your soul. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal.

P. Vaull Starr

Tall young man on a big and mighty quest
To be first on top of the high hills crest
So that in the town they crown you the best.

Do you ever think of taking a rest
Up high on the tall trees in the birds nest,
Tall young man on a big and mighty quest?

‘Just like the beating heart inside my chest,
I’ll stop when my body is laid to rest
For in the town I must be crowned the best.’

‘I must scale the looming mountain biggest
In nothing but long pants and a tight vest
For I must meet the demands of my quest.’

Have the Gods up high in the blue skies blessed
You yet in your big quest to pass the test
Set by the people to crown one who’s best?

‘The Gods on me did choose to play a jest
When they bid the people to crown a guest
Who went not on a big and mighty quest
To be in the town crowned the only best.’

© 2019 The Poets Peace