So how did you think I would respond?
Did you think I’d float around?
I keep switching the feet I use
All in a day and as everyone’s muse.
Gripping wouldn’t be for me
Blast it out of the water and float to sea.
Could it be smooth and blue and warm?
And take away all the bad and all the harm?
So did you know the pedestal you sat
Was from me, where I placed your lap?
Breath of fresh air, it goes right through me.
This feeling stays and never seems to leave….
Even if you turn it around,
I’m still here and I taste your soul.
It’s intertwined with mine,
Just like the colors that crack in sunshine.
{{Published in Journey to the Stars, and read by a professional reader with an Orchestra playing in the background.}}
{{Copyrighted}}
Turn down the sheets, leave a light on
Lock the sills, lower the heat, everyone is gone
I lie in bed and think until a dream takes over
A success, powerhouse and passion, intelligent, clever
All the things I am made of was swallowed by pain
After All is Said and Done, I’m alone, no family, just rain
Hobbies and friends, the world in my hands
Money grew on trees and I owned our bloodlines’ land
It’s much different now, more dark and cold
No sentiments, only doctors and clouds, no diamonds and gold
All the things now I’m made of are gone
After All is Said and Done
Somewhere in the words, something happened on A day
Life grabbed hold, change is coming and without delay
I rose from that bed, Thanked GOD the dream ended
Looked deep inside and know there’s nothing time can’t mend
I will and I do, Not to become like you, To have a clue
My heart pounded out of my chest and the ground moved
I know what I am made of, I know who I am
I felt like I was dead, walking among the damned
Life is now in my grasp, everyone is not gone
It changed, time heals, After All is Said and Done.
Almost poetic on a Saturday night
all quiet except buzzing from a street light
streams of heat rise from the pavement
as winds blow a cold rainy front in.
Could ever I write so true and proud
Could the winds blow writers’ block out
away from my sliding glass door
before my ideas are crumpled on the floor.
Once I had a heart that loved
a world of romance I wrote of
Now I fear a cynical storm coming over me
same as writers’ block that won’t leave.
Roaring thunder is the sound of my soul
Crashing against my body wanting peace alone
It hurts so much to love, I would know
Ironically it’s the one thing I don’t own.
Almost poetic how a storm rolls away
the heat comes back, the cold breezes into decay
it hits me again, that YOU; what do I do?
with YOU I could love hopelessly and true.
Don’t you know, can you not see?
Can you feel me, can you try?
I have come such a long far way
Through Sun and through the Fray
There was a Prayer with Your Name on it
LOVE has sent me Hol, and you can have it!
Don’t you know, you asked for me,
With You is Where I’m supposed to Be
Cannot you tell, do not you remember?
You prayed for a perfect man, even to raise hell over!
Sweet little Hol, rest your weary head
I am here and I got you,
….And in your dreams, we became free
….which lead to an awesome reality.
{YESHUA Ha Mashiach is the man I write of in this poem.}
Missing the touch, do I so ever!
Forgetting how to be with another
Is this what time will keep me in
Or will it lift again to let me live?
Longer, how much, dear lord?
The past has much recorded
In the future will it continue,
Or leave me always this blue?
Comes around, if it does,
Will I remember how it goes?
Will I mess it up, can you tell me!
I pray that love will shine upon me!
How long, how short, just tell me when
Please tell me that it is something I can
I beg and wait, deny and block out
Every night is alone and that’s all I’m about
{{Published in Walking in the Shadows}}
All the words within my head, cannot make the mountains crumble,
Or make music of my mumble,
Or give the seas more flare,
Or planets more glare.
I can only make a cliché,
And repeat what the others say.
All the feelings I feel, can’t give this earth a quake,
Or have the flowers bloom and wake,
Or make the nights more soft,
Or slow the minutes to last.
I can only make a cliché,
And repeat what the others say.
All I can do is wonder and cry,
Fighting for something new for you.
All I can do is give you a light,
And make a wish for me and you,
But all I can give is this cliché,
And hope it’s better than what the others say!
{{Published in Best Poems of the 90s}}
Could it be the movies I watch?
It looked all gross, like an egg in hatch.
Could it be the music I gyrate to?
most times the lyrics, I haven’t a clue
or maybe its vibrations,
and all those other sensations.
It sounded all choppy, and awkward
like a record played backward
Is that what they choose
to hypnotize you to?
Maybe it’s in the food or news,
or someone else’s point of view…
maybe it’s in your soul
or wrapped in a jar, somewhere in a hole.
Did you think to listen quietly?
in a forest amongst the wind and trees
down in a cave, or hanging off a mountain,
or when you sleep a top a cloud’s hand
I’m crashing and burning, figuring it out again
it’s vivid, subtle, my head is spinning
it ALL feels so brand new,
even I am out of the blue!
Landed on rocks
and on it man has built up blocks
There’s an ideal dominion
With people together under one opinion.
An idealistic roam
Letting thought be plenty shown
With history, crafts, and science
a beauty without defiance.
With a wheel and a whim
And a man learning the wind
Material is done without
and coins are not their clout.
Could you live in an ideal age
and have the meaning on just one page
Where realizing you know nothing
Is the highest of knowledge to be?
and this was their wisest analogy.
Could you live in an ideal age
and have the slaves
treated humane
and never maimed
With all the families protecting in dark
in only one home and only one spark?
On one side is Aristocracy
and on the other is Democracy
loyalty is how they kept so free
with trading and making needs
No chaos or hurting of people
with intent to keep from evil.
A court of jurors six thousand in all
with right in mind, deciding their law
No murder or wrongdoing
No excuses of not-knowing
No loopholes
or judges bending the laws.
Could you live in an ideal age
where the answer’s just one page
with a thought of beauty
indulged in philosophy
with intelligence and moral
held within the hearts of people?
Could you live in an ideal age
where all in beauty is your engage
knowledge and flowers to cherish and find
buildings of rock that tower the sky
made by a person in a BC time
idealistically inclined.
We could not live in an ideal age
for money and power is all we rage
no beautiful world we have created
no way to change, it’s all too late
People today stay so unkind
Never us, never our time!
{{Published in 1990s}}
What a good hearted Golden Girl I used to be
I did things right and people listened to me
Now I meet everything with the back of my hand
the pavement steams where their broken hearts land.
Please don't toss me aside
I'll behave, I promise not to collide
with everyone in this place...
I promise not to rearrange their face
I promise forgiveness and all my grace.
I don't want to hold on, I just can’t hold on
Why is there a problem with everyone
What a good hearted Golden Girl I used to be
before this world determined what became of me!
I'm letting go, Please help me before I go
it’s no longer up to me, I let the wheel go
While the war is lost these battles keep rolling in
Will I, the Golden Girl become good hearted again?
From out his window I saw you climb
What has happened, what to do?
I sought to tell you not to go
Love I can but not for you,
For it is he who has no clue.
Months flew by with second minutes.
Need not I the same as you
My heart I’ll open to a point,
Then a time will come to shut.
I want to know the all of you,
From a distance to not fordo.
The night that carried your losing shadow,
I felt the rain upon his window.
That very moment, did not I see,
Myself, the middle, I came to be.
Have I a sill upon which to place,
a 14 Karat golden face?
Have I a flower reflecting your beauty,
with delicate fragrance to which I seek?
Have I a charm to sparkle twining,
for you to see my many feelings.
How must I keep away the bees,
and all the harm from threatening thee?
Have I a way protecting panes,
not to let the paint from chipping?
If when the moon is shining out,
Do I sit beside your sill,
or do I call and yell about,
a word that burns and holds you still?
Where must I spend my time,
alone with you or by myself?
Can I toss a dime,
and hope it lands down on your shelf?
This is all I am right now,
what else is there I may allow.
Not the same of you I am.
Emotions have not I compromise,
and more to give I maybe can.
When I saw his shattered window.
I told him things I’d never say.
Where you go his darkened shadow,
Do we fit another day?
I may only have this poem
where my heart can fill a line
but when you leave and I’m alone
I feel good I held you tight
I may not have a beautiful voice
to sing this poem for you
I cannot compose a masterpiece
about the wonderfulness you do,
I may not be a diary
wanting my past to later be seen
I cannot erase my wrongful deeds
so left would be the best of me.
I may only make you laugh
and maybe only make you smile
One thing though I’d love to have
Is you within my life to love.
If I were a painter
I’d paint your face
until the color got fainter
for change takes that pace.
If I were a sculptor
the molds of you
would make my thoughts grow fonder
and give my heart a grove
If I were a millionaire
since you’re beyond money’s value
I’d give the money away to share
and I’d give all my soul to you
If I were a poet
I’d write everyday for you
Hopefully you’d finally know it
Hopefully then, you’d know I Love You….
Copyright © 2019 Holly N Baglio - All Rights Reserved.