By mrgrunty
I won't be there
in the morning,
when you wake.
I won't be there,
for all of
your mistakes.
I won't be there
when you need me,
if you're hurt.
*
Because you left me
and I waited...
and it killed me...
So now I know,
that you're not there.
By mrgrunty
You haunt my days,
and steal my nights.
when sleep is rare...
you whisper..
| Author Notes | Hi guys, yeh I'm still around and still BMD. How ya doin? |
By mrgrunty
I pray to the ears of the elders,
in hope of the hope that you're there.
A minnow in stream with the salmon,
I'm blinded but know that you care.
My spirit is weak but I listen
to lessons unseen that I hear.
A new way to love the forgotten,
a new way to look at my fear.
The ancients, their knowledge discarded;
to listen, to learn and to sing.
So science we think is the answer,
yet look at what knowing can bring.
The forest I see as a person,
the wind I believe is a she.
The sun is a force here to guide us,
your wisdom is helping me see.
I proudly proclaim independence,
the dreamtime enables such things.
Remember the face of my fathers,
remember the song cupid sings.
| Author Notes |
Sorry I haven't got any money for it but I would still appreciate your thoughts if you do read it.
cheers friends grant |
By mrgrunty
I gaze in hope for the horizon beyond the bow of my ship.
This night has been forever.
I long for the kiss of warmth that morning brings
from this godforsaken weather.
Yet even when I greet the sun, weak beyond the ever present clouds,
it cannot free my tether.
Just when I think I can ride the storm, another piece of cargo slips from my deck.
Waves like I've never seen.
I left port as a fully laden ship far too many years ago.
Young, fit, ready and keen.
A lot lighter, I look behind and follow the unending trail of debris.
The oceans where I've been.
From time to time I am joined in my lonely journey by an albatross.
I wear it around my neck.
On my voyage I have often seen the tell tale flotsam that can be only one thing.
Another captain's wreck.
As the seas do their best to beat me, I strap myself to the helm.
Feet gripping to the deck.
Without a destination, my compass spins wildly pointing me in all directions.
I can only try to cope.
Even on the calm and sunny days, despair hits me and I ponder
another use for this rope.
And so goes another sporadic entry in the log, of life on the high seas.
On the good ship known as `Hope'.
By mrgrunty
I'm looking at these pictures of you
as I barely remember your face.
Been doing so well as I suffered,
but I guess now that isn't the case.
I've asked all my friends if they'd guide me,
they all told me I'm better without.
I'd totally agree in a second
if I knew what the hell you're about.
My ship is adrift on the ocean,
and the crew it is searching for land.
A captain that dreams of the moment
when his anchor will weigh in the sand.
His lover he keeps at his bosom,
with her picture and words in a frame.
"I love you my daring sea captain
and I'll always remember your name."
My memories have wistful forms taken,
As I've not seen my hometown in years.
I'd give all the gold of the oceans,
for the salty caress of your tears.
I'm thinking as thought leads to worry,
that these sails they need setting anew.
How many more floor-staring others
have lost memories of pictures of you?
| Author Notes |
I know I have used a few words repeatedly but they work and you may not have noticed them if I hadn't left this note. But how would you know I wrote it if I deleted it??hmmm
cheers g |
By mrgrunty
A single drop of everything
escaped my wrung out heart.
Then there it was, upon my cheek,
a simple work of art.
I marveled as it crept away;
to trickle, search, and find.
A place where it could be itself,
a higher state of mind.
I sigh then my hopeful wonder
with lips that taste of tears.
The saltiness serves to wake me
and straighten my arrears.
With now lucid eyes I notice
frivolity and fear.
Thoughts then of all my misgivings
see signs that lead me here.
Alone except for all my friends
who listen to me cry.
They light the way for lonely tears
encouraging to try.
As morning kisses-off to night
a different tear is found.
Relief and happiness look on
as wonder trickles down.
| Author Notes |
Don't cry for me Argentina,
the truth is I've never actually been to South America! hehe BMD in da house! |
By mrgrunty
Shocked, by the thought of myself,
I drink, and put it all on hold.
Dismayed, with the strength of apathy,
I cry, for the memories I've sold.
Hurt, by the pain of others,
I feel, their angst just as mine.
I wish, for the pure light of focus,
to see, my path to search and find.
Loved, yet not which sates my heart,
I wait, for that day in years from now.
When, I laugh that I ever worried,
to think, I'd die alone somehow.
Worry, is a friend that comes to visit,
and dark, is a thing that shines so bright.
The muse, though numbed is fiercely kicking,
my pen, gives it birth into the light.
Shocked, with memories of myself,
I drink, and plan for the time to come.
Dismayed, at the clarity of answers,
I cry, for the hopelessness of some.
By mrgrunty
It's so lonely,
disquieting silence
plays the theme
as the dark curtain descends.
It's so quiet,
dim memories
tantalise the thought
of finding the smile I have lost.
It's so cold,
quaking shivers
rumble like thunder
as the dark clouds roll in.
It's so sad,
reflected here
is the outer shell
of a once joyous and happy man.
It's much needed,
I don't know what
but I can tell you
whatever it is I need it like air.
It's so lonely,
precious moments
spent in conversation
with the only one who'll listen.
By mrgrunty
| Author Note: | blackmarketdreamerz.com |
I can remember
the day that I saw,
that fear and depression
were living next door.
I'd invited them over
for dinner you see,
but now they won't leave
or let me be free.
I cooked up a banquet
of lies and despair,
and searched for a reason
for needing them there.
We drank of some sorrow
and dessert was regret,
but now they won't leave
or let me forget.
My house is so empty
for most of the time,
I potter in search of
my reason and rhyme.
Alone for the best.
Unless this is a test.
I harbour duress
at my neighbours' address.
| Author Notes |
I will not be seen very much here in the future but will always be there for those who ask!
cheers grant |
By mrgrunty
The wind was blowing
the sails moved gently
I fell into sleep.
The grass soft and moist
morning dew on my hair
I sit up.
A house, it was
but run down now
To look around.
The little girl
from story books
I've never read.
With watching eyes
I take it in
Remembering.
I awake
the sails are still
The wind is gone.
| Author Notes |
I finally got some of my treasured oldies back!
This is one of my faves. g |
By mrgrunty
Red is the sunset that whispers your name,
Orange the dance of the flickering flame.
Yellow a colour I've known so well,
Green is the monster that dwelleth in hell.
Blue is my brother, we argue and fight,
Indigo so peaceful, the gentlest of light.
Violet the morning, the dawn where I see,
A palette of feelings, a rainbow of me.
| Author Notes |
come visit the BMD...it ROCKS!!
www.blackmarketdreamer.com/phpBB2/index.php |
By mrgrunty
When I think about a flower,
I see the sunshine that's in you.
And the warmth that comes at morning,
brings a wave to wash the blue.
A sunset lasts forever,
or at least within my mind.
The life I'm in now different,
with the answers that I find.
The shadows harbour secrets,
now so obvious to see.
When looking back I spy the truth
of the love you took from me.
A love to last the ages,
which is what we always think.
To set the mind on open ground,
is to let the spirits sink.
Like the radiating beauty
of a lifting morning ray,
as a person looks for chances
to begin again today.
| Author Notes |
Written for poetry readers and not dollar grabbers.
grant BMD |
By mrgrunty
Terror reigns as the darkness falls,
the beast it comes to life.
You struggle with your sanity,
mind sharpened like a knife.
An all consuming body freeze
has filled your legs with lead.
The taste of metal in your mouth,
as panic guides your head.
You can't remember yesterday,
stares focused on the night.
The slightest shadow comes to life
and won't unleave your sight.
The morning comes with golden strands,
and birds with welcome, hark.
Embarrassed thoughts are turned to shame,
with loathing of the dark.
| Author Notes | In the dark, all bets are off. |
By mrgrunty
With a burst,
the sun breaks through;
taking with it the fears
of darkness.
With a fear,
I try to hide;
in the comfort I feel
in the darkness.
With a feeling,
I want to find;
a place for it to grow
in the sun.
| Author Notes |
Another oldie
I like what happened here too! g |
By mrgrunty
Fingers of light
bring tinges of hope
lost and alone
I shouldn't cry.
All is familiar
yet with darkness comes
the uncertainty
of what you cannot see.
Safe, yet sounds
and shadows make
an enemy to fear
grasping at the memories
of those I love.
Frozen, lifeless, paralysed
too scared to even breathe
the unknown
cannot destroy what isn't there.
A morning sound
a breakfast smell
thank God I made it
through another night.
Alone in my room...age four.
| Author Notes |
Pls don't forget I use English spelling.
g or in american ...z hehe (sorry couldn't help it for all the stick I get!) #;~D |
By mrgrunty
The tears of leaves at morning dawn,
can lift the heart where love was born.
Reflections of a parting kiss,
refracted memories of bliss.
A little boy with eyes of awe,
drinks the scene and dreams of more.
The innocence of morning light,
when children's dreams as birds take flight.
Believe that life and love go on
and search again for sirens' song.
The amber glow of waking sun,
will guide the way till day is done.
The golden rays of future days,
they tantalise you and amaze.
Old palette bursts with fervent joy,
awakening that little boy.
He grins like Cheshire cat, a loon;
and craves the solace of the moon.
The stars are up, the curtain down;
no room for sadness or a frown.
Today I heard the morning cry,
he begs the world to tell him why
his lover, night, can never stay;
or show her love another way.
| Author Notes |
Try rereading it second time through for a different perspective.
g #:~D |
By mrgrunty
I traced the lonely teardrop
in its journey down her face.
It trickled with such beauty
and a haunting sense of grace.
The time for love was over,
it was that she'd come to tell.
I gazed upon her beauty
as the tears began to well.
A numbing loss of feeling,
to have to watch her cry.
I'll hold and make it better,
or I'll sing a lullaby.
The journey of that teardrop
as it tore into my heart,
is the saddest thing I've witnessed
and it blew my world apart.
| Author Notes |
Hopefully you can place this in a part of your life. It can mean many things to a different perspective.
Hi folks! BMD is coming. cheers your friend grant |
By mrgrunty
| Author Notes |
Hell yes I can rhyme trees and believe if I want!! hehe
No rules remember... |
By mrgrunty
The love from the heart of a mother,
is a difficult thing to replace.
As your senses seek to recover,
from the joy at the sight of her face.
You're not an "I love you" type person,
so craving it won't make it so.
It's taken so long to accept it,
I still love you and from that we grow.
It's hard for you to show emotion,
in your own way I know you still do.
You can't stop with teaching a lesson,
won't you look at the picture I drew?
The bitterness changes to knowing,
given age comes acceptance of things.
And even forgetful forgiveness,
makes the notes and the music it brings.
Away for so long I'd forgotten,
just how much I miss having you there.
To see you when I'm having breakfast,
means I'm home and I know that you care.
Arriving to see me tomorrow,
I'm excited as hell, say it true.
I miss your familiar voice, mother;
how I'm waiting to say "how are you?"
By mrgrunty
Revelations on the floor,
lead eyes unto my bed.
Rather than its emptiness,
a rose I found instead.
Petals were not yet unfurled,
it curled into a ball.
Your naked beauty glowing,
it shimmered off the wall.
A pleasant sight to greet me,
this winter afternoon.
It's weeks since I have seen you,
ensconced within my room.
The finest floral tribute,
I found here in my bed.
Much more than happy birthday,
I've got you here instead.
| Author Notes | Ah the sweet pain and creative fuel that is longing! |
By mrgrunty
| Author Note: | Love gone stale or a new start... |
Bubblegum upon my shoe,
reminded me of you.
I'd loved the taste then spat it out
and stepped right in the goo.
Shook my leg and hopped about,
to rid me of the gum.
The pavement it is spotted with
the memories of some.
Sweetness lost when chewed enough,
like gum at times I feel.
I need to get my flavour back,
the ever turning wheel.
Blowing bubbles once again,
that pop upon my face.
I pick them off with cheeky grin
and savour the new taste.
| Author Notes |
Short and sweet which as you know is me, but under the gum is a fortune hidden in the wrapper.
At least that's what it said on the box when I bought the damned thing!!!! cheers all and there is something to be said for the bedpost gum storage theory. g. |
By mrgrunty
I bought a balloon today.
I stumbled along
the street with a song
and thought I'd go out of my way.
I purchased a comic as well.
A skip and a hop
and in the next shop
was funny as funny can tell.
I said "No I don't want the cake!"
It looks like a horse
with icing of course
my head it was starting to ache.
I pinned the balloon to my door.
It bobbed in the breeze
in tune with the trees
and kept me from watching the floor.
| Author Notes | When people are down they spend a lot of time staring at nothing. |
By mrgrunty
In a time when lands have scattered,
and the hearts of men grow meek.
I stand with eyes unwavered,
not to turn the other cheek.
With destiny to guide me,
and the brave at my command.
I'm left no other option
but to laugh at your demands.
No bowing servant's scarper,
I am at least my own.
I've measured my importance
and I didn't need a throne.
The waged wars to follow
are attributed to you.
I'm here to make you notice,
the dissension as it grew.
With little more than courage,
and the willing of your minds.
I'll fight the tyrant's armies,
with the strength you help me find.
As blood is spilled for nothing,
across this crimson night.
I tell you absolutely
that I didn't want to fight.
| Author Notes |
There is no right or wrong interpretation of this. As long as you can make it mean SOMETHING to you then you have got it.
I would also like to say that this is in NO way a political piece!! g. |
By mrgrunty
| Author Notes |
"most every person looking to atone."
It's poetry, I can invent new words or phrasing if I want!! hehe g. |
By mrgrunty
I've got a cupboard full of yesterdays,
and broken dreams.
And a wardrobe with my picture on,
and promises.
** And anytime I, try to, open them I can't.
** It's not that, I don't want to, but I don't believe.
I've got a bed that's full of emptiness,
and could have beens.
And a lamp that turns on only when,
I dream of you.
** And anytime I, try to, open up I can't.
** It's not that, I don't want to, but I can't believe.
I've got a heart that's full of shooting down,
my onlyness.
And a mind that's quick to make up,
what it shouldn't see.
** And anytime I,try to, quiet them I can't.
** It's not that, I don't want to, but I should believe.
| Author Notes |
Please remember a song needn't have perfect meter.
g p-s I think "onlyness" works quite well as a word and may have a chat to mr Oxford! hehe |
By mrgrunty
If I don't ask you,
you'll never have to say
that you don't love me.
And if you don't love me,
you're free from the admission
that you care.
If you're not caring,
I wonder why the hell
we're still together.
If we're not together,
you'll never have to tell me
why it ended.
And when it ended,
I wondered if you ever
really loved me.
| Author Notes |
I don't want to be the King of the Castle, I'd much rather be a dirty rascal!! hehe
BMD |
By mrgrunty
For every smile,
a thousand tears evaporate.
In every tear,
the sound of laughter drowns.
In every fist,
caresses lie in waiting.
For every shout,
a haunting song resounds.
In all the hate
is love that waits unanswered.
Through all the hurt,
forgiveness can be found.
For every thought
are chances lost to say them.
And every wish
is proof you're not around.
| Author Notes | I hope this can take you somewhere in your own life. |
By mrgrunty
I had a thought,
once.
It was the sediment,
of a life lived for others.
The distilled grains of possibility,
fermented
into one salient moment.
Belonging truly to me ...
My Death.
"Did I turn the oven off?"
| Author Notes |
Surprise!! Didn't see that comin did ya! haha LOL!
Blah blah blah punctuation. g #:~D p-s if it makes absolutely no sense to you, please don't review it! |
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