Lost

So far I have not had any comments on the poems chosen for this week but I will continue on with the darker theme a little with this one. Perhaps that is a little indulgent, but this is my blog after all is said and done. Well it is yours as well of course as it it only exists here for your enjoyment...


Wandering lost in an urban landscape,
A product of so many wrong turns.
Not sure where I want to head
Or what I will feel when I get there.
Rushing into decisions and directions
That only serve to lead me deeper.
Press on? Or maybe return to where it began?
Lost in a world that should be familiar,
A world where once I was comfortable.
Not wise enough to avoid sinking further
Even as a sense of direction appears
Wondering when will I arrive at my destiny
And when my heart can finally be content


© Bernard J Rossi

Magic

I have called this poem Magic, but it could just as easily be titled 'The Journey'.

In the coming weeks I am going to put up some photos or pictures/paintings and write small verses to them. This is an exercise I have done before and it is not only amazingly enjoyable but it also combines the visual beauty of the pictures with the magic of poetry. I would be happy for any of you poetry fans out there to send me a picture you would like to see put to poems and I'll interpret them as I see them.

In the interim take a short journey with me, it should prove to be magic.

Life used to be about the magic

Life was once about the wonder
We ruled the earth
Nothing could stop us
Our oyster awaited

Life then became about surviving

Life developed into making it
Work ruled our existence
Our freedom usurped
Old age awaited

Life used to be about surviving

Life is now about enjoyment
Magic rules our world
Life is full of wonder
Our dreams await

Life endures because of the magic


© Bernard J Rossi

The Black Dress

Crumpled,
It lies on the floor.
Discarded.
Black and lifeless.
A reminder of passions lost

Empty,
Devoid of life.
Taunting,
Beckoning my gaze.
A shrine of sorts

Memories,
Rise from the pile
Fabric,
Soft and fragrant.
A memento to a perfect night

Experience,
The first kiss.
Games,
Nothing serious.
Unexpected, feelings and thoughts

Striking,
Out of the blue.
Unrequited.
One night, one love.
Sorrow donated to unwanted charities

Created,
As one night, one stand.
Dreams,
Extravagant and unseen.
Crumpled, they lay on the floor

Shattered,
I lie on the floor.
Acerbic
Dawn responses,
And a naked exodus.

Memoirs,
Carved into every stitch.
Wrinkled,
The unrelenting chronicler,
Left abandoned, its story repeating


Crumpled,
It lies on the floor.
Redundant,
This keepsake.
A reminder of passions lost


© Bernard J Rossi

The World Stopped

The world stopped

Before this day
We had met
But my eyes had not seen
And my heart had not felt

She had stood
In front of me
My ears had not listened
I had not been ready

The world stopped

On this day
Inside the Harp
My eyes saw her true beauty
My heart rose from my chest

She stood
In front of me
My ears heard angel’s music
I was ready

The world has begun
My world has begun

© Bernard J Rossi

Fireworks from the hill

Fireworks from the hill

Pop, pop,
Distant, ever distant
Colours fantastic, glittering, shimmering
The sound arrives late

Silent beauty
Distant, ever distant
Low lights, high lights, fountains of fire
Bursts of colour raining

Bright lights, paparazzi
Cameras flashing
Fountains of gold flowing
Distant, ever distant

Light green, bright green, golden flash
Vibrant reds highlight
Images of people smiling
Distant, ever distant

Bright white flashes
Gun smoke drifting, silent
Distant, ever distant
The sound arrives late

Sweet bitterness
Watching beauty, alone
Distant, ever distant
Thinking of you

Distant, ever distant

© Bernard J Rossi