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Nineteen Poems

Nineteen Poems

By Harold Amoroso

 

Published by Harold Amoroso

 

Copyright © 2015 Harold Amoroso

Shakespir Edition

 

A very special thanks to my wonderful sister

for the beautiful artwork.

Table of Contents

Autumn

Counting Sand

Breakfast

Hope

Depressed

It Will Come

Miracles

Let’s Pretend

The Alien

Reality

This Valley

The Truth

You

She

Trust In Me

Dreamers

After You

Life Could Be A Melody

All Because Of You

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Autumn

Swirling, curling up the street

yellow, red and maple leaves.

Chilly breezes whip around

so turn your collars up.

 

Breathing in the crystal cold

to warm and puff it out like smoke.

Just one more block to walk till home

holds me in her warm embrace.

 

Counting Sand

She looks at me just like November,

chilling the curious desire to reach.

Waiting to run into one

who doesn’t flinch and run

is like counting sand.

Time and time and time again,

but every time

it takes me longer to recharge.

How do I correct a spiral dive?

Anti-gravity?

 

 

Breakfast

Breakfast on the patio,

sunshine on my face.

Yawning is a pleasure I can take

this time of day.

Coffee, cakes and tangerines

and pleasant company.

Myself is someone here and now

I’m not afraid to be.

Morning washes clean my mind

and memories away,

for all the pain and goals unreached

life still can be OK.

 

 

 

 

 

Depressed

Fumbling, stumbling down the road,

grabbing signposts for my life.

Solid ground is just a passing thought.

 

Freezing, sneezing in the rain,

getting good at hiding pain.

Sometimes I get ideas that I’m caught.

 

Sagging, dragging out at dawn,

damning clocks and telephones.

The ghost is growing weary of this game.

 

I had a reason once I think,

for doing life and fearing death,

but it escapes me.

 

 

 

It Will Come

In the cold, in the black

in the back of my mind,

it’s hard to imagine the light.

Still I’m convinced it will come,

it will come.

 

It’s often I reach

for the vision of sight,

to see what prodigies see.

Not soon enough it will come,

it will come.

 

If one would believe

the media type,

there would be no use having eyes.

Death and destruction

promoted with hype

and millions of similar lies.

 

In freezing December

I’m reaching for June

and all of the life it will bring.

I’m bound to believe it will come,

it will come.

 

 

 

Miracles

Music blue and green,

too real to be ignored.

Velvet vocals still caressing me.

 

A perfect soul mate from the past

lost in present time, still calls.

How to find her once again

is a game almost too much.

 

Yet the spirit still is sure

of miracles and so,

will go throughout millennia

to make the team come true.

 

 

Let’s Pretend

I was alive some years ago

I think it was B.C.

when goals and love consumed my days

and life was lived by me.

 

But recently it’s all downhill

and suicide says “Come.

Close your eyes and give it up.

Life can’t be lived by some.”

 

Wake up! you wretched, sinful soul

and find again the flame,

that burns and brightens up the world

and lightens up the game.

 

It’s not too late to still create

and laugh and love and win.

Come play the game of “Let’s pretend”

and start to smile again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Alien

Promising blue and white, then green.

A jewel of a rock,

unexpectedly found.

It’s just the spot to cool my jets and drink a few.

 

Navigating waves of earthlings,

who are busy burning down the place.

Seems sanity gets lost

somewhere along the way.

 

I’m glad it’s not my planet, still,

I think I’ll stay a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reality

Beast,

keep your distance.

Take a holiday.

I need to run for just a while

like a wild child,

through trees and rain and meadowlands,

until I sleep

and dream a dream of innocence

no one can take away.

 

Beast,

keep your distance.

Look the other way.

For just a moment I’ll pretend

my freedom is unlimited,

and laughter comes to me

that doesn’t have to end,

until I fall asleep and dream

of something called reality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Valley

Big balloons and galleries

and wine and wine and wine,

the universe it used to be

to me when I was nine.

 

Rolling acres of estates

of all variety,

work the vine for wine and grape

and notoriety.

 

Weekend tourists flood the place

escaping city steel,

to crowd the cafes and the parks

and leisurely take meals.

 

Streets become a parking lot

impossible to drive,

but who can turn away a friend

when holidays arrive.

 

It’s smaller now than years ago

this valley I call mine,

the universe it used to be

to me when I was nine.

 

 

The Truth

There’s beauty in the music

filling all of space;

energy and even matter sing.

Octaves follow octaves,

spiraling away;

resonant to every living thing.

 

Light and mind and postulates

surround and swirl around,

spilling over in reality;

making solid some ideas

thought of in a dream.

 

I wonder what society

could make out of this world,

if every boy and girl were taught

the truth that was themselves.

 

 

 

Hope

Hoping still

for that universal tidal wave,

rushing, warm, and lifting me,

when she looks into my soul.

When she speaks I’m not afraid

to conquer any Everest,

Looking, longing,

hoping still.

 

You

The memories of you keep coming back to me,

sparkling eyes and laughter are mostly what I see.

 

But lifetimes come and go like breath

and pictures aren’t so bright,

And pressures of the daily grind

take memories from sight.

 

Hordes of robots give reports

of murder, blood, and tragedy;

mindless of the crimes they do

on our humanity.

 

Men who promised they would lead

and take us out of slavery,

daily fail the test of truth

and plead insanity.

 

What is worth this hellish dream

that few have woken from?

And who escapes the endless traps

to sail among the free?

 

The memories of you keep coming back to me,

sparkling eyes and laughter are mostly what I see.

 

She

 

She can turn heads

she learns

she can acquire with small effort.

 

Under massive assaults of admiration

she crumbles,

and resigns herself to be loved.

 

 

Trust in Me

Insurance money crinkles and widens up the eyes,

as Dr. Barbie Bituate prescribes another high.

‘Trust in me, just in me’

 

The plague of helpless humans, convinced that they’re insane

excites his padded pocketbook like voltage to the brain.

‘Trust in me, I’ll set you free’

 

Silent screams from broken hearts go crashing down the halls,

but deafness of the heart and soul seems to be his goal.

‘Trust in me, then you’ll see’

 

Jackets straight, electroshock and drugs to make you blind,

lobotomies and other ‘cures’ are what we have in mind.

‘Trust in me and you’ll agree’

 

Mumbling, stumbling to the bank

with shame and blame and doubt.

If I could only drug them all, they’d never find me out.

‘Trust in me, trust in me.’

 

Dreamers

Dame radio speaks

and romances me,

throughout a sleepless night.

Visions of one

dancing alone,

keep swirling ‘round my head.

Memories brighter are calling to me,

I think I’ll lose her eventually.

Dreamers forget not your dreams.

 

I thought I could feel

the beat of her heart,

and love that lives forever.

Mysteriously

she whispers to me,

we’ll always be together.

Morning comes creeping into my brain.

Without a goodbye, she turns into rain.

Dreamers forget not your dreams.

 

After You

Living alone isn’t easy, after you

loving another’s not easy, after you

I don’t mind a bit

I’ll have to admit

I’m still, I’m still after you.

 

Songs aren’t so sweet, after you

and nothing’s complete, after you

wine is undrinkable

sex is unthinkable

I guess I’m just sick after you

 

Life Could Be A Melody

Life could be a melody

if you would only smile.

Life could be a symphony

if you would only smile.

I could live without your touch –

without your kiss, won’t miss it much,

but life could be so sweet to me,

if you would only smile.

 

I would be a millionaire

if I could make you smile.

I could dance like Fred Astaire

if I could make you smile.

There’s no one that I couldn’t be

- Superman, Hercules,

Life would mean so much to me,

if I could make you smile.

 

Life could be a melody

if you would only smile

Life could be a symphony

if you would only smile

I do without so many things

like limousines and diamond rings

but I would own most everything

if you would only smile.

 

All Because of You

I blasterflame no gaffe jay

See black I laymidan

But Sorcia do the okenay

Until redstab akan

 

Rachel, Rachel,

Krash an brakendown

My weep a tally undofare

Day jam blue sadi sound

 

I creep, I cry, moonday, moonda,

Tare up da cane to bleed

Godsee menan she fakenda

All down to Lobandee

 

Kari kachelle an dance a fite

terrific up to do,

am crackle to fabrainian

and all because of you.

 

 

 

 

The End

 

 

 

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Other titles by H. Amoroso:

 

Planets In Peril

 

Download a FREE sample of this science fiction adventure.

 

 

 

The Ghost That Wouldn’t Trap

 

Download a FREE sample of this fun, short story.

 

 

Find out more about the author

 


Nineteen Poems

  • ISBN: 9781310996306
  • Author: H. Amoroso
  • Published: 2015-11-04 20:05:12
  • Words: 1570
Nineteen Poems Nineteen Poems