More poems past

Paul  Stephen Dixon

More poems past

More poems from long ago, moving and tidying ,I come across pictures and poems and letters from the past, blow off the dust have a read and see if they deserve the light
of day. I take a chance and share this selection with you from a time when I was young and less experience than today, But reading through them gives me a perspective of who I was then. I hope some people will get some pleasure of me sharing these works with you. Paul

Words to the wind

Go my friend tell it to the wind
So what you have to say
Will be blown into the ears of many
The largest audience that will ever hear
Words you feel you have to exclaim
The walk slowly back indoors, feel fullfilled
For your words will be heard worldwide
As long the wind blows.

’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’
Spiritual

Mother of life where are you
sitting here wrapped in my own thoughts
I ask you again mother of life where are you

I am within you son of earth, as I am within all creatures
within all plants and materia,within the core of the earth itself

Mother of life I cannot see you although my eyes are open wide
Mother of life I can t see you

I am in your eyes son of earth as I am within your brain
to see me you must see yourself, see yourself hanging in a thread
you must concentrate my son

Sitting here I concentrate with all my might
I see you mother of life like through a haze in the night

___________

Fears and Tears

Once there was a mare, that wandered the whole day long
She was looking for a mate
Then night fell upon the mare
The mare fell upon a lively girl
She had a nightmare

The mare had found her mate in the night
Settling down in the girls mind
concieving their child fright

Dawn came and the girl awoke
The night and the mare left the girls mind
taking with them their child fright

Wandering through the day, waiting for their next prey
In and out of minds all the time
With all their might
Feeding their newborn Fright

__________

Jealousy

I could have spat at them
They showed me so much contempt
I saw them speaking together
Phrases, sentences
But I couldn’t hear a word
I saw that they kissed each other
But I didn’t see their lips touching
They didn’t see me
As I was hiding
I could have spat at them
For the contempt they showed me

___________

Poor Mother

There wasn’t terror in her little eyes
But the daughter knew how to terrorize her poor mother
Incessant demands, always pulling her skirts
putting sticky fingers in her newly washed hair

The poor mother wished now and then that she wasn’t there
But back in her youth
Travelling in Europe, the world
Painting, drawing,dancing, flirting
Learning the meaning of life, a life full of experiences
So she in later years could recall the life she had led

She married young and soon her dreams they were smashed
Children came and she was bound
Her dreams didn’t get off the ground
Poor pet, but somehow I think
That she had an inkling of hope yet

There wasn’t terror in her little eyes
But the daughter knew how to terrorize her poor mother
Poor mother

___________

original poetry by Paul S. Dixon

  • tkrosevear

    tkrosevear

    The first one grabbed me right off the bat Paul…knew we were related, now I know it is through the WIND… Thank you for sharing the beauty of your words – past, present and future…;)

  • Paul Stephen ... replied

    hehe thks for taking the time to read tk good on you Paul :))))

  • Mary Campbell

    Mary Campbell

    We poets do tend to accumulate things. I find it fun to go back an read it and wonder who I was the day I wrote something… Moved recently and had boxes of poems.. All on little pieces of paper someday I’ll have to get them organized I hope! good to see someone who is working on that too. :0)

  • Paul Stephen ... replied

    Yeah everything takes time , I use the small hours. Paul :))

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