POETRY
The Nurse’s Eyes
Eyes as a symbol of hope. A poem.
Piercing blue eyes that penetrate my soul
I don’t know why but they speak to me
Those blue eyes tell of a future that I’ve seen with my spirit
One where I am free to compliment a woman on her beautiful eyes
without fear of reprisal.
Yes, they speak — loudly
They tell me to believe
They say do not cast away your hope in God for it has great reward
They say do not despair, young man. One day, you will have someone
with eyes just as beautiful as these, looking at you with the same longing that you feel
Eyes like hers used to mock, disdain and even worse pity,
but now there’s a real exhilaration when they are seen
No despair there, just a true expression of hope
I wonder if she knows how her eyes speak
But I think I’ll leave her out of it
This is between her eyes and me
I don’t know why but they speak to me
Those blue eyes tell of a future that I’ve seen with my spirit
One where I am free to compliment a woman on her beautiful eyes
without fear of reprisal.
Yes, they speak — loudly
They tell me to believe
They say do not cast away your hope in God for it has great reward
They say do not despair, young man. One day, you will have someone
with eyes just as beautiful as these, looking at you with the same longing that you feel
Eyes like hers used to mock, disdain and even worse pity,
but now there’s a real exhilaration when they are seen
No despair there, just a true expression of hope
I wonder if she knows how her eyes speak
But I think I’ll leave her out of it
This is between her eyes and me
Poet’s Note
This was written during a lockdown, when loneliness was my constant companion. That day, I was led to read the 128th Psalm, which spoke about the surety of a loving family for those who trust and rely on God’s goodness. After that, it made no sense to be worried about the absence of female company. A legacy of love is worth the wait.
Raindrops
A love poem.
Like the raindrops
are my thoughts
of you
continual, consistent, heavy
surrounding me
enveloping me
desire for you
penetrates my soul
like wetness soaking my clothes
clinging to my body
as a second skin
weighted sticking
overcome
loving it
are my thoughts
of you
continual, consistent, heavy
surrounding me
enveloping me
desire for you
penetrates my soul
like wetness soaking my clothes
clinging to my body
as a second skin
weighted sticking
overcome
loving it
Wrinkled Pajamas
A love poem.
The sun breaks through the lattice
and I awake to nirvana
today like every other
I eagerly await the gift of all gifts
the sight of your lovely face
the place we call home
warmed by the beauty of your essence
bedhead
eyes red
beautiful
unfettered magnificence
viewed in wrinkled pajamas
today like every other
I eagerly await the gift of all gifts
the sight of your lovely face
the place we call home
warmed by the beauty of your essence
bedhead
eyes red
beautiful
unfettered magnificence
viewed in wrinkled pajamas
Cleansing
A poem of recovery from childhood trauma.
turmoil continues
DIRTY
mind shaken
UNCLEAN
holy book found
HOPE
truth be told
JOY
the cross seen
CLEAN
DIRTY
mind shaken
UNCLEAN
holy book found
HOPE
truth be told
JOY
the cross seen
CLEAN
H72800: I Am More Than A Number
Prison strips people’s identity down to a dehumanizing series of digits. A prisoner takes exception.
I may be known as a number
H72800
An unknown entity
to those charged with cataloguing and warehousing me
but actually I am a creative, sentient being.
To some, I am the seventy-second thousand, eight hundredth person to fall
into the trench of the hotel series of lost causes.
H72800
But I am a source of volcanic vision, wanted and unwanted.
I am the strength of a geyser, the force of a hurricane.
I am the truth that will not die
no matter how many attempts are made on its life.
I am freedom.
My Truths
A collection of short poems about life lessons learned.
Love is
Love is a unicorn
because its beauty is mythical
all have heard of it, few have seen it
those who have spend everything
trying to describe it
Love is the 26th mile
in the marathon
the hardest to reach
but truly satisfying when attained
Love is a dagger
that strikes through the hearts of many
yet will be the tool to defend and protect
Love is the truth
whether words of romantic woo
or life altering reality
Love is cupping a breast
while caressing a mastectomy scar
healing the hurt within.
Clean
Pure, precious, blank black canvas
No knowledge of pain, wrong unseen
Pristine perfection
Infection, disdain, introduction to pain
Violations seen but ignored
Marred visage
Fault offered
accepted, rejected, dejected
purpose lost
chains abound
all around the world
ceaseless search
never finding
Paradox
what you are
what you want to be
what you have
what you desire
what you think
what really is
what your mind says
what the mirror shows
turmoil, struggle
the battles rages
then
the mirror shows
what your mind says
you think
what really is
all you desire is
what you have
what you want to be
is really who you
are.
God for a Moment
Every time we make a decision
we are God for a moment,
the master and ruler of our world.
Every time we make a decision
we give place to worship or hate
our personal deity in an autonomous place.
Every time we make a decision
we rule the universe
that is in our own skin.
At least in our lives
we know what is reverence
or sin.
Find me in
nirvana
paradise
seventh heaven
where I sit upon
my everlasting
throne
at least for the
moment.
Good Morning
It’s morning
the darkness has passed
free from unspeakable pain
hurt
harm
and danger.
This is the new normal
where we are
at peace.
The anger of midnight
has evaporated
in the warmth of
a renewed trust
Like a fresh dew,
safety is on the
edges of our lives
slowly, steadily,
encroaching on our hearts.
The Itch
Why is
that which you want
is rarely what you need?
Why is
that which you cannot live without
you have lived without
for years?
Everything
I am the love that you have desired over the ages
I am the safety that you lost in your pain
I am the prosperity that eluded you in poverty
I am the hope down the drain in the face of disappointment
I am the erotic thought in the middle of the day
I am the greed that kills in the third world and laughs in the first
I am peace that escapes as tomahawk’s rain
I am the health that mocks you from your death bed
I am everything and nothing.
REACH OUT TO LESTER POLK
Lester L. Polk is a freelance poet and writer who enjoys receiving feedback and comments from readers. He can be reached at:
Lester Polk H72800 PO Box 92 Chowchilla, CA 93610-0092
