"FATHER"

 

The memory of you sends chills down my spine.

As if the very thought of you were like a cockroach...

Crawling over the furniture, making your way

up into my bed while I sleep in a deep slumber.

Your antenna poised, searching out

what you want to find, what you want to invade.

Crawling all over my body and into crevices

that are hidden and tucked away,

yet you manage to make your way into them,

if not by easy access, then by force.

You crawl, leaving your mark all over me.

You make your way up onto my face,

over my closed eyes and into my ear.

Your whispers taunting me.

Venturing into my head and throughout my brain,

you implant memories and fears,

embedding your hideous actions

into the corners of my mind.

Until at least, you creep slowly from me

out the other side of my head, laughing...

Pleased at yourself for the number you've pulled on me.

With your denial and mocking sneer, you leave me.

You crawl back down the side of the bed

and scamper across the old wooden floor.

I awaken, slowly and somewhat uneasy,

as I reach over and flick on the bedside lamp.

I notice a large cockroach in the corner of the room

planning an escape route, no doubt.

I jump up from my slumber and grab my shoes.

Quickly and quietly, I put them on and edge towards you.

You try to run but there's nowhere to hide...

As my foot comes down upon your slimy pathetic little body,

I hear the crunching sound of your demise.

You have become a splotch on the bottom of my shoe

 that I won't even bother to clean off.

You don't have the power anymore.

 

PolarB

Grandmother Sun

She sits in the clearing in a grove of pine trees
perched upon a tree stump.
Quiet and patiently waiting for me
to take my place at her moccasined feet.
She is a grand elder and full of wisdom
She waits until I am ready to listen.
She looks deeply into my soul and immediately
I can feel her peaceful glow alight me
warming my spirit
She is Grandmother Sun
She calms my soul and speaks words of truth
whether I want to hear or not
The years of knowledge etched
in the creases of her face.
The tanned leathery skin with a warm smile
her brown soulful deep eyes that have seen
many things of this world and
many things not of this life.
She has the gift and she has been blessed with visions
She's thankful of the Great Spirit
and all of life around her.
She's seen many moons and
many changes of the seasons,
more than she can count.
Words need not be spoken
for the gift she has given has been received.
In the flash of an eye she is gone.
I sit alone in the towering grass
I close my eyes and feel her presense
I hear her in the wind as it blows
the branches of the towering pines and caresses my face.
I feel her in the ray of sun
that reaches down to kiss the earth
filtering through the leaves of the mighty trees.
I look up to the heavens and see
the clear blue sky
and I know within my heart
Grandmother Sun's wisdom
is with me always.

I wrote this a few years ago and thought you might enjoy it. It came from my connection with my Native American beliefs.

Peace to all-
PolarB

Mirage

 

I wake up and rub the sleep from my eyes,

Am I dreaming? I must be,

because she is standing before me.

How could she have known

that I was thinking about her?

Is she really here?

She is so lovely and beautiful

and she stirs a longing in my soul.

I want to call out to her

and speak her name,

But I am afraid to break the spell.

Her lips part to say something,

a murmur, I love you...

Did I hear those precious words?

I reach out to touch her, and she is gone....

Just a mirage....

I smile and blink my eyes

and lay back down my head

to dream those sweet dreams

of my beautiful mirage.

 

Another of my poems I wrote in the early 90's Enjoy..

PolarB

The Circle

Drumbeats steady

like the thunder on a storm raged sky,

pounding a fierce crescendo, then slow

to the steady rhythm of my soul,

connecting the beat

to my pulse, my breath, my heart...

The vision appears;

Native voices loud and strong

lifting towards the heavens,

singing their songs, their chants, their prayers,

to the Great Spirit,

honoring Mother Earth and Father Sky.

Wise elder women dancing,

shawls swaying, eyes closed,

lost in the rhythm of the dance...

Closing the circle around the pulsing drum

Native men, young and old

adorned with feathers and beaded buckskin

bare flesh painted with brilliant colors

come alive in the firelight's glow.

Lifting hands, shaking rattles,

voices carried high into the mountains,

their feet stomping, pounding, dancing,

connecting to the center of the earth

and to all that is living

as they circle the drum...

A celebration of the Dance of Life

of the drumbeat that echos in the hearts

of all living creatures great and small.

Faster and faster the beat of the drum

pounds it's steady hypnotic rhythm

as it dances to the fire's flames

in perfect harmony.

My heartbeat connects to the pulse

and the drum and I become one...

I am a part of the circle

and the drum is within me

in my heart and in my soul.

I open my eyes and return

to the greater Circle of Life

and thank the Great Spirit

above for the gift of my vision...

The drumbeat lives within me.

 

Another of my poems based on my Native American spirituality. Hope you enjoyed it.

Mitakuye Oyasin

PolarB ;)

She Is Waiting

Steam fills the room as the hot pellets

of water beat down upon my back.

She is waiting...

My dripping soaked wet body steps out of the shower

and I can hear the faint sounds of music

drifting from the bedroom.

She is waiting.

I enter and it is all aglow from the candlelight

that washes the room with it's soft caresses.

She is waiting...

She is beneath the satin sheets and her

husky voice sends a shiver through my being.

"Come" she whispers.

I slide in beside her cool sensual body,

 the one that makes me so wet with desire.

 Her milky white breasts with their rosey nipples

that rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing.

She is so beautiful, those brown sultry eyes,

that have the power to melt me,

those warm moist lips.

I kiss them softly and a low moan

escapes through her lips.

We slowly begin a journey of ecstasy.

The candle flickers out,

but the fire is just beginning.

She is waiting...

 

This is a poem I wrote about my lover.

Enjoy- ;) PolarB