POETRY POCKET

If I Could Not You Would


My mind may be of a slow speed but the concept of your existence makes my mind race,

It puzzles over mosaic pieces of your attributes at the quickest pace.

 

I may not be able to see you but it is you in my dreams I envision

For between you and true beauty there is no clear division.

 

My nose does fail me but not when you are near

Your scent dissipates every stench and makes breathing clear.

 

I may be dumb but you still steal away my words and weave them into things I can’t express,

Though surely dumb as I am, I stand speechless I confess.

 

My ears may not hear the sound of your voice but you hear the sound of my heart,

You whisper for my ears only and speak to me with graciousness and an art.

 

My legs are all but spent but you run to me through fields of fire,

My heart you strengthen and my weak legs you inspire.

 

My arms have lost their zeal but you my love have a heart that for me can feel

And with a warm embrace your love you seal.

 

K.O.Reuben (2010)

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POETRY POCKET

To Be Read Twice and Again


Today I met you again and I knew not who you were, though I know who you are,

We spoke, talked and conversated about things near and afar.

And so the night is through, you are long since gone but yet, you don’t escape my mind,

I close my eyes and the sweetest loving thoughts of you I find.

My heart is punishing me that I found no way to know that you are okay,

I humbly ask, is it wrong of me to proclaim these things or even say?

I only just know your name again and know you not though I knew you once before

But I ask, can I know you again, anew, in this time, afresh, to of you know more?

I am intrigued as to how unique beauty is scorned and called what it is not at all

When sitting before you I felt your very essence my name call.

If the sun listened to what the jealous stars said the grass would not grow

So listen not to people’s useless banter about your wonder and simply glow

Today I met a poem I had read before,

I didn’t understand her, or her beautiful lore.

Thankfully, God gave me the opportunity of reading her again, His wonderful creation

And as best I can I write a rhyming poem at least, in loving appreciation.

K.O.Reuben  2010

 

Copyright© 2010 by K.O.Reuben

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POETRY POCKET

‘CHANELLE’


There was a stop. There was some time between us there was a wall. I was on top of it and did not anticipate the fall. It hurt but I healed when I looked at you. It seems I dream of love but maybe not you.

There was a stop again and you said nothing at all. You smile. You reach out. Your hands don’t reach. Your heart of hearts doesn’t beseech.

I am yours but you are not mine. Not in heart. I return. There is a pain in restart.

And then. Then there was a stop. A Resolution. You move and pull yourself to me-I to you. We meet. In the middle.  We smile. Together we walk. Our shadows too far behind to hold us back. Together an endless sunset we stalk

Copyright© 2010 By K.O.Reuben

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POETRY POCKET

Sonnet Of A Sober Drunk


I am a bedraggled mess, because of you I lose sleep!  Oh because of you! I wonder how?!  Did you not plan your sweet tasting coup and overthrew my reason; my emotions to be subject to you now?

I found no favour in bars, or pubs and searched chateaus for the perfect wine, but good drink makes you covet it, and cheap wine tastes of infatuation and sweet-bitter after tastes; so after the best I did pine.

My shabby clothes are mistaken for persona, appreciating not book but simple cover; I’m a man who dresses past Solomon in heart to pursue as a suitor a most faithful lover.

My smell keeps people away from me but keeps you ever so near; they told me to wash and forget about you but they don’t know who favour might kiss, not one of them be a seer.

Then I came across a chateau, a long since forgotten one, but with all the fruits of a farmers effort gone to waste; in the faithful cellar was all but one bottle – I had to have a taste.

I had but a sip –I had found a good thing. If this place were mine to have all finance of mine in this would be sunk, the place would be restored as a virgin and of these sweet grapes I’d get most passionately drunk.

Your affections would be beautifully bottled for my pleasure and I would uncork with loving care; the finest of tastes, the rarest of years, you’re type is extremely hard to come by: with any I would refuse to share.

Copyright © by K.O.Reuben (2010)

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POETRY POCKET

The Spell Of Love Binding


There was once a city that of sleep was it deprived

Red eyes and bags did everyone derive.

Heroes and wise men were called in to save the day

But they found no solution to the problem, no way.

A witch had laid a curse on the city, robbing them of

Sleep,

Paying every citizen what they justly should reap.

For the people were mean to one another, cruel an unkind,

Dark an horrible –no love in them could she find.

A bard in love one day composed a song for his love,

Ran to the city’s centre and sang it on a hill above.

Every citizen heard it, was inspired an changed their ways,

The bard was met by his love an there they spent all their days.

The witches spell was finally and forever broken

By the bard’s ultimate love token.

K.O.Reuben (2007)

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POETRY POCKET

The spell of love binding II:Hero in gold


This is the story of Bard called Bard

The saviour of the city who found to sleep so hard.

The witch was long dust

And all her evil magic gone

But she left one thing behind

 And that was a magical song.

Rumour had it that if sung

 It could turn any substance in to gold

And the people of that city

 Always believed what they were told.

Many people pursued it but never came back,

Still more went after it

Wanting more though they did not lack.

A hero, Onoculus, had a

 Theory; that the witch left clues behind

He searched high and

Low but not a clue did he find.

Then one day he searched

 The witch’s castle once more

An found something lying on the floor.

It was a book, a big book, dusty, torn, an old,

The cover was hard and thick and it was heavy to hold.

He opened the book an

 On its own accord it slam shut,

This book could guard itself against

 Impostors and it left him with a cut.

Onoculus tried again – he refused

 To be thwarted by a book

 then suddenly the foundation

 Of the castle shook.

He heard a menacing voice

 Speak; it was horrible and made him twitch.

It was the voice of the evil gone witch:

“Opening the book is futile your heart is vain

Try one more time an you will be slain!

There is only one that can break this spell

And if you can’t find him your quest you will fail!

Onoculus thought and thought very hard

An then he remembered the great poet called Bard.

Onoculus travelled to the city’s centre

On a hill where bard had built his home,

He spoke to bard an convinced him that

 On this journey he would not be alone. That same day they went to the witch’s

Castle to seize the book and run

But like a lot of things it was never that

 Easy an a dragon burnt Bard’s bum.

Bard was infuriated, angry an annoyed

Onoculus protected only himself

A shield he employed.

Onoculus chopped off the dragons head

Spilling the blood gooey and red.

Bard picked up the witch’s book

Opened it, had a glance and a look.

He flicked through the pages One after the other.

Found a song, thought it was the one an then found another.

Bard was confused, he didn’t know which

One was real.

One of them was the song an their fate

It would seal.

Bard read one as he looked out to the city

It looked so big, amazing an pretty.

The song read thus;

“You fools too selfish to worry

About anything else except wealth,

Well as you search you will diminish in health!

You will seek but not find

Your very minds I will bind

I may have been a witch but you are

All just as evil as me you are all stupid an greedy

And that is clear for all to see!

If you want the song it’s on the next page

But I have to warn you yourselves you’ll enslave

A commodity you’ll become-strong

Full of wealth, you’ll live forever an have perfect health”

In greed Onoculus pulled the book from Bard

And said; “The book I will hold!”

Onoculus stood on the pinnacle of the castle,

Sung the song and turnt into to solid gold.

Onoculus paid the price for his reckless greed

For him an everyone did the witch mislead.

Everyone except bard of course who sang an elegy

For the hero in gold, he had saved the city again, this time with

Onoculus the bold.   

K.O.Reuben (2007)

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POETRY POCKET

The spell of love binding III:Comulus and the Goblin


 

The city was under threat by several monsters mean and bad,

And no one could fight them the way Onoculus had.

Many brave men died trying to slay these abominations amongst men,

But no man dared slay the ogre that lived in the den.

It was ferocious and unfriendly, it killed purely for fun,

An Elonork the ogre ate them when he was done.

Once again the people looked to Bard to save the before they all die,

Bard was reluctant but promised he would try.

He searched for the son of Onoculus the bold,

The famous hero in gold.

Bard found the boy, living sad and alone

He knew of all the courage his father had shown.

It was a burden he wished he was rid of and done away with for good

No one could slay the ogre and they ran from him as fast as they could.

Bard was decided, he would train the boy to fight

Mould him into a just man that does what is right.

Comulus the hero’s son was far from convinced that he would succeed,

There were just too many beasts and they all did breed.

He was convinced he would die with nothing but a sword and shield to his aid

But Bard told Comulus not to worry, a secret keeper to tell all they would persuade

They travelled a while by foot, then by horse and then by sea

And climbed to the top of a mountain where the man lived happily.

Bard asked the old man to tell him where to find the things he will need to defeat this deadly foe,

The old man said “The answer is in an elixir of great strength and that is so,”

Bard asked where he could find it before the beasts destroyed the city and all

And the old man directed them to the Hero’s Hall.

Every hero that had reached Heroes Hall never left alive

And neither did the elixir which could help one survive.

It was said to restore strength, give more and guide one to more treasures of its kind,

But if you tried you were sure to go blind.

This was a risk they were willing to take, they had to get the elixir for sure,

Or the beasts would get into the city, eat the innocent and devour the poor.

They set off to Hero’s Hall and got there the following night,

It was rather a bad time to show up because they were deprived of light.

They fumbled around till they found the building and walked up its steps and into the Hall.

They saw bones of men scattered and that was not all.

There were blood stains everywhere and smell of burning flesh was in the air.

Comulus was scared and on his head, stood straight every hair.

Bard looked straight ahead towards a swirling purple light,

Coming from a golden goblet upon a plinth just in sight.

Comulus walked towards it cautiously, sword held in hand

If anything came out at him with it he would not be bland.

However as he bore closer to it the entrance closed shut tight

Bard knew straight away that something was not right.

Bard ordered him to drink up so they may find their way about

But the goblet would not lift, from the plinth it would not come out.

Doors opened but not the entrance as they had hoped against hope

Something stepped into the confined darkness with them and Comulus tied to the goblet a rope.

He pulled and pulled but all to no avail

They had come all this way only to fail.

Bard was not defeated though, he tried something new,

He twisted the goblet and the liquid turned a different hue.

In the glow that it supplied the thing stepped nearer to them.

Bard knew it would attack, he did not know what or when.

Once the goblet was removed Comulus drank the drink every last drop.

It was sour and nasty, lumpy and not sweet and he was happy to stop.

When he put the goblet down the plinth gave light

And Bard and Comulus were disturbed by the gruesome thing they did sight.

A large goblin with thick hands grasped Bard by the neck and made to rip off his head,

Comulus chopped off its hand, releasing Bard as its left over stump of a wrist bled.

The venomous blood unfortunately melted part of his sword

So Comulus lobbed off its head and the goblin’s did he hoard.

The goblet was taken with them as a trophy for show

And every dark night it gave an immense glow.

Bard and Comulus’ journey was far from complete,

They had to get back to the city and the terrible ogre defeat.

In a sparing moment, Comulus rose to his duty of hero and saved Bard from the monstrous goblin,

This trial was one of many-all must they win.

K.O.Reuben (2008)

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