Welcome to ‘Oh Well’

Welcome to ‘Oh Well’

Just another day in the lost realm of ‘Oh Well’.
It’s that gray place situated to the left of Hell.
It rains a lot in this place, which is to be expected.
The dreary days represent a smile not reflected.

If not for the unending water, life would surely thrive here.
It would be colorful and vibrant filled with animals to hear.

The trees would be the fullest green and birds would sing their song
Flowers, the like not ever seen, bring joy to those full of long.

The sun would shine a cherry red, at night it would reflect the moon
Kids would laugh and jump and play and days would often end too soon.

The candlelight that shines at night would ward off any monsters.
While health would be in perfect standard so there’s no need for any doctors.

Honeysuckle would fill the nostrils as it permeates the air;
One could sit on endless beaches, pondering, while lost in stare.

Winters would not be what to fret as early darkness approaches;
Snow would taste like sugar crumbs and there’s no such thing as roaches.

Spring would come and fill this place with all the a-forementioned wonders.
Bringing life to this stale land that embraces joy and laughs at blunders.

The Summer brings delightful weather for all to swim and carry on.
To run in the meadows, surf rolling waves, and wish upon a dandelion.

Fall captures colors that take the breath of every fellow and maiden
Though the seasons come to pass, no time here is ever traded.

Death indeed does come to all, looming over each and every creature
Shoulders smooth as raven claws. There, wings are placed for a second feature.

Intoxicating is the image of this happy, joyful, ethereal realm.
But, while my thoughts linger on this figment place, my head turns back to see ‘Oh Well’.

By: Charles Poore

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Emerald City In Her Eyes

She entrances me with her emerald stare
While crimson reflects sunlight off her hair.
If not for these moments there’d be nothing there.
No inkling of love, affection, or care.

Her walk is that of a sure-footed gait.
Head down, she’s shopping in a concentrated state.
Then she talks, releasing her ‘um’, and opens up her defilade.
For her, it’s always perfect timing, not too soon and not too late.

As impatient as I may often seem
There’s a distance that we both must glean.
Swimming against the currents of another’s stream.
We must ensure things go unseen.

Often so close, and more often too far.
Near her, time makes haste. Away from her I’m treading tar.
I remind myself often, you cannot scar a scar.
I wait a day to see her face, the daylight’s other rising star.

Oh how indeed her eyes have got me
When I see the looks that she doth wrought me.
They make me think of all we can be
At the same time reminding me, what will be, will be.

It’s said, “two hearts forged in silence, become one”.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, ensuring nothing’s done.
When nothing’s lost and little is gained in this game of hearts and fun.
It’s hard to tell in the end, who has lost and who has won.

Again, those eyes. Now I get the magic of ‘Oz’.
She does the things I cannot do, simply just because.
Because she can, she wants to and she does.
Without any sign of warning, it’s done without a pause.

Seldom and swift. There was a time I saw them often.
“I melt” is what she said to me, when she first began to soften.
Since that time we both have rose from the realm of the downtrodden.
The time will come to reap what’s sown. We’ll claim ‘together’…or, ‘forgotten’.…

The Ghost

THE GHOST

Silence does indeed speak volumes.
Every response has been little more than vague
I say “I love you”; not confirming is considered rude.
Not to mention how you avoid me like the plague.

Silence has been well, it allows you to think
Think perhaps, that I won’t do what you intended
Calamity and chaos are not what rolls around my rink.
Time, or another person, have always been what’s mended.

Once again I’ve been left for dead
Like a long abandoned, forget me not.
A keepsake that rests in the back of the head
Or, a not often visited burial plot.

You’ll come to realize how resilient I am
And you know I won’t say “I told you so”.
I did indeed do all that I can
It sucks the way things ended though.

So, I write now from the other side.
Watching you from a surreal afar;
Wondering if the punishment fits the crime.
I’m the only one that knows who you are.

I cared too much, which you don’t care to see
I worried about issues that many who love you would.
I’m the one suspended in limbo, as you’d agree.
Leaving me in the dark again, is no longer any good.

I may appear different now
Being viewed through the eyes of contempt.
I’m wondering if there’s anything-
That can’t be feigned you won’t resent.

So, play your silent treatment game
And act like everything is fine.
Deep down inside I know you’re lame.
In time, you’ll look back on moments you were mine.

Oh well, whatever, eventually I’ll be just fine.
I’ll rise above the silent abandon,
And conceal my pain in rhythm and rhyme.
It hurts though, to say good-bye, my friend.

By: Charles Poore

Last Month

I was low
Really low
Play out in traffic at night kind of low.

It burns my upper spine
Not so much about suicide
More so that I want to die.

Because I can’t relate
And I’m tired of trying
I’m tired of wondering why I’m not crying.

I’m tired of me
Not being NT
And I can’t help I think they’re all looking at me.

They’re not
I know they aren’t
And I know I’m not giving all that I’ve got.

For What?
A new spot?
All that I know is I’m home in my thought.

One day I suppose
In times delicate dose
All of my thoughts will be mapped out, exposed.

Until that then
Whenever that then
I’ll await the return of my low little friend.

By: Seigh Pten

GOLD

GOLD

Before I realize it I will be old.
Until then, I’ll continue my delusion,
That all I put my hands on turns to gold.

Not that I am speaking of glittering confusion.
Rather, an understanding of a thought so far fetched;
It unfetters humanity from economic institution.

Giving us reason to hold our hands outstretched
Without fear that helping someone has a price.
Trading greed for value so peace may be etched
Into the stone of our magnificent edifice.
When looking back upon ‘our history’ of OUR time,
I hope our children’s children realize some were nice.

That we cared to acknowledge the sublime
Utilizing the innate skills from both heart and mind;
Uniting our souls through harmony and rhyme.

By: Charles Poore

Mobile Man

‘MOBILE MAN’

He comes to this motel every Thursday, Friday, or Monday.
It’s not too bad of a locale, for the most part it stays pretty mundane.
I watch him though. He’s got long hair, and the same clothes on every time.
There’s plastic bags in stow, and a back pack that dangles behind.
He often flies up into the room, very rarely does he come out.
He must live a life full of gloom, all his joy, perhaps, fell victim to rout.
No one ever arrives to make his acquaintence, at least none that I have witnessed.
201, that’s the number he inhabits week to week, finding shelter from an unknown distance.
I wonder where he goes from here, his tags presume a close estate.
His clothes are indeed quite austere, suggesting business is not the date.
This mystery of a man has left me puzzled; arriving here from year to year.
I ponder if he has a clan and someone elsewhere to hold him near.
I can imagine this hooded lynx to be the whatever my inner mind sees.
But, what I think is irrelevant, to what may actually be his hopes and dreams.

By: Charles Poore

Call Me Something

I want to scream
But, I know that does no good,
It makes me look like a selfish child
Whom only wants their attention understood.

I love to kiss
However, that is not a one person act.
Besides, I’m not very good with people,
Those that have met me consider that a fact.

I need a hug.
It kind of sucks in a lot of ways.
This simple act of comforting another
Is a curse for me, because specific touch evades.

I’m losing myself
I don’t say this in a depressing way.
It’s an understanding of distance and being
As if to say I no longer acknowledge humanity.

My heart is breaking
And I’m the only one that’s fit to heal it.
I know my ways and my stubborn mind
I know it’s going to be another year or so of torment.

Anyway, I’m here.
Though, I’m not certain what the point is.
Is anybody? I catch a glimpse from time to time.
I get confounded now and then, just to keep employment.

Then, I’m gone.
Back to where I dwell, to stare out at passing traffic.
Until my next adventure reveals itself,
I linger in the companionway, docile and passive.

I’ll write my songs.
I’ll share my short stories, poems, and musings.
I tie them to an idea that’s been on my mind for years.
A magnum opus full of thoughts, concepts, and warnings.

It’s not different.
Though, it’s certainly more than “much the same”.
It all makes sense in my little world.
But, being its only citizen becomes mundane.

I’ll take a breath.
It reminds me that I’m here, in reality.
Where most things don’t make much sense
And it’s the only place to be what we’ll be.

Take all my effort,
It’s derived from a mind that doesn’t adapt anyway.
It’s pulled from broken pieces of used up emotions
Maybe then I’ll get my reasons, maybe then I’ll stay.