Category: Poetry

Introducing ‘Twenty-One Jack’ Poetry

Introducing ‘Twenty-One-Jack’ Poetry

 

Might I be so bold as to introduce you to my ‘Twenty-one Jack’? Simply put, it is a poem of your choice with twenty-one lines: rhyme, no-rhyme, free verse, simply, compressed poetic thoughts and feelings. I give you here my first attempt and hope you might enjoy trying it yourself.

 

“Ah, The Sting”

 

Ah, the sting of memory,

The gasp, the dip in sorrow,

All the loves of yesterday…

 

Time, the arbiter, the squire

Upon whose donkey for me

Rode the night’s pleasure…

 

Twas all a moment’s fancy

There in diluted memory,

All gone in morrow’s dawn…

 

Yet, still would I so linger

Among the music and mist

Perchance one dalliance left…

 

For fools exist for pleasure’s

Hopeful lingering at the trough

Of Bacchus eve’s merriment…

 

Only, now, wrinkled fantasies

Visit in grotesque dreams

That deny a relevance…

 

Still, tis good to know that

One’s life does not foretell

Mysteries yet beyond the veil…

Billy Ray Chitwood – May 13, 2019

 

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Hey, World!

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-Hey, World!-

Hey, World,
Look at my girl…
She’s standing right here
Beside me.
Hey, World,
I’m in a whirl…
I’ve found the girl
For me.

She’s lovely,
And, Wow!
Those Eyes…
She’s Lovely,
She’s Paradise,
She’s Lovely,
Just One of a Kind,
Hands Off, World,
She’s All Mine!
*
She moves with the grace
Of an Angel,
She’s Diff’rent in her own
Special Way.
All that I’ve longed for,
A lady with Style,
Hey, World –
Outta my way!
She’s lovely,
Just One of a Kind…
Hands Off, World!
She’s All Mine…

An Up-Beat Stylish Song by: Billy Ray Chitwood

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River, Keep on Flowing

-River, Keep on Flowing-

I look out over the valley

From atop this tall, tall Pine

And I can see the river flowing

Over this land of mine.

There, on the bank of the river,

Sits a love that I once knew,

Her hair aglow in the sunlight,

Her eyes lost in sky of blue.

River, keep on flowing

River, flow for me

River, ease my heartaches,

And take my misery.

*

Where does she go at twilight?

The love that I once knew…

Does she go in search of tomorrow

In the arms of someone new?

*

River, keep on flowing

Over forgotten ground,

River, keep on flowing

Let my peace be found.

River, keep on flowing

River, flow for me

River, take my heartaches

Relieve my misery.

 

A slow (old-time country) tempo song by:

 Billy Ray Chitwood – April 23, 2019

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Ode to Lamentation

Ode to Lamentation

 

What is it makes us yearn?

Lonely in peculiar ways?

Is it only hearts of Romantics

That connect to life’s gauzy haze?

 

What of a past we must give up?

Nights in love’s joyous cloud?

Is it so simple to pass and merely

Become one with the crowd?

 

What mocks us most in life?

The mistakes we made in our pace?

The glory that might have been?

Or the wrinkles upon our face?

 

Does dimension lie beyond this orb?

Does Heaven or Hell Await?

Tis written, ‘ours not to know’?

Doth then we yield to fate?

*

©Billy Ray Chitwood – April 6, 2019

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Insomnia

Insomnia

 

Night Comes

With Its Demons,

Stays Late Into My

Hapless Toss And Turn…

Brings Its Jabbing Thoughts

Of All My Yesterdays,

Leaves Me Tangled

In The Wet Sheets

Of Memories…

With Dawn,

The Weary Self Of

Bone And Flesh

Seeks Cessation

In the hopeful

Sunlight

Of Day.

 

©Billy Ray Chitwood – March 22, 2019

 

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How Can We?

How Can We?

How can we breed patriots

When we don’t teach our history?

From ‘Pilgrim Rock’ through

The great presidents of our time?

Valley Forge, the wars we’ve fought

For a country now harassed with hate?

How can we deplore so easily

With easy disdain and anger?

How can we be so blind of eye

As not to see the great rupture

In our land of milk and honey?

How can we not with haste defeat

This pestilence that so infects

Our hearts, our minds, our souls?

How can we be so hardened of heart

As not to feel compassion and joy?

How can we not feel pride in a

Nation that has so much to give?

How can we not stem the bigotry

That runs rancid in our streets?

How can we turn a Democracy

Into a totalitarian state of chaos?

What feeds this disease that now

Plagues our halls of government?

Please, tell me how can we revive

A country rich in history and glory?

How can we breed patriots

When we don’t teach our history?

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – March, 2019

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Lazy Moments in Time

Lazy Moments in Time

What folly this

That binds me,

Betrays me,

Leaves me here,

In this strange

Subtle land?

Glory must

Surely shed

Its light

On yonder

Brows,

Not mine!

Here,

Dreams live,

Greatness appears,

And, so soon

Expires…

What fool am I

To stand among

These great

Images of

Proud history?

Tis Folly here!

Must be folly

For I see not

My Image

Smiling back

At me!

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 31, 2019

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Sought and Fought for Naught

Sought and Fought for Naught

-Nine Haikus All in a Row, with a Theme-

*

It was never clear

That dream-set inside of me

Along each new day…

 

The abstract nature

Of my humble beginnings

Ever in my way…

 

On the lonely trek

Were stark ugly mementos

To echo my past…

 

Then, into Twilight

Doubts and fears were soon to pass

As my mind could fast…

 

At last it did seem

That olden days meant little

To a now dull mind…

 

Ahead comes darkness

Morphing to eternal light

Perhaps, to happily dream.

 

But, if not to dream,

Then, perchance, darkness alone,

Shakespeare did foretell.

 

Demons come and go

Through dark eternal passages

Shadowed walls of Hell.

 

Doth Fate have in store

This horror scene, prithee tell,

What is heaven for?

*

-Nine Haikus with which to explain a Life-

By Billy Ray Chitwood – 01/26/19

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Winter’s Lassitude

Winter’s Lassitude

Perhaps it’s the winter days that has me in this patch of lassitude, here in the pale used-up corn stalks of boredom, where words won’t form and thoughts come in slow motion and without any great desire to be fulfilled. The sunny day falls on a layer of snow and cannot alter the artic bite in the air, yet without the glowing essence of a clear day, I might very well give way to purposeless stagnation.

I want to write, to create a marvelous ‘flash fiction’ piece, a poem of praise for the deity that claims my being, yet, the torpidity seems all-consuming and bids me crank up the leg-rest of my Lazy boy and wile away the day with patches of slumber. But I fight the off-kilter feelings and press on with words that might or might not warrant any qualitative analysis. So, I cling to the notion that out of the lazy meandering the Gods on Mt. Olympus might bring life to my fingers as they tap onward the laptop keys.

Wouldst I write about the political nonsense that is frightfully ambiguous and bordering on insanity? God, forbid! My takeaway from the blabber would be of no import and would only show my informed but unpolished political leanings that would please some and anger others. No politics, thank you very much…

What, then, Lazybones?

I shall try a poem for my good followers and then put the day away marked as ‘non-essential’ and ‘lethargic’!

Here, then, is the poem…ah, what name shall I give it? Ah, yes…

Wasted Day

How does one forfeit a day?

Wasted but adorned beautifully

By Sunshine and snow?

Tis a mindless pity to waste

So much energy and time

To say, ‘I don’t know’!

The blog and book must wait

Until tomorrow comes

For an intellectual glow!

After all, words are cheap

And book sales are small

So much for my folio!

One day, surely, I can miss.

My brain can use the rest

Tis no huge fiasco.

Tomorrow, then, I shall

Write a #1 bestseller

And all the world will crow.

*

And so be it this Tuesday morning in January.

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 22, 2019

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There is Room

There is Room

  Along the lonely road I met an old man who sang a soft melodic song that spoke to me in so many ways, his gnarled fingers chording an old guitar that seemed to know so exactly, so enchantingly, and so beautifully where his sad and lonely words were going.

  I stood and listened until his song ended, mesmerized by the sounds and the words. My tears were his tears, his tears mine, and his song was my song, words, music, and all.

  When I awoke the tears still flowed down my cheeks, the words and music of the song would lay upon me in the twilight of my days.

*

There is Room

There is room for you here – it’s not so crowded, now that night is over and the demon sleeps in his coffin of forgetfulness…

There is room beside me, though the heat in my body has dwelled for a while in the dampness of the past heroic epic of chance…

There is room for you here by this still infernal longing of my soul that speaks to me of a thousand things I could have done…

There is room beside the silent tempest that yet rages within the bounds my mind can reach in too much absurdity…

There is room here in the twilight of a life spent recklessly and with oft a hope some willing star would enter its pitiable tenderness…

There is room here near the weariness from joys sought, found, and lost through carelessness of one final salute to Bacchus…

There is room here among the decay of confusion and doubt, among the abandoned hearts of love’s labor lost, sought and found…

Come join me – read my tales, hear my soul’s somber chorus, hear a fool awaking to a yawning maw of darkness and despair…

There is room…

*

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 12, 2018

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