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    Poetry and Other Stories
    Poetry and Other Stories
    Poetry and Other Stories
    Ebook135 pages1 hour

    Poetry and Other Stories

    By Birdine L Remaley Jr

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Birdine L Remaley Jr was born in Allentown, PA on April 11, 1959. Currently, he resides in Whitehall, PA. He is a graduate of Duffs Business Institute in Pittsburgh, PA. He has been writing since 2007.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXlibris US
    Release dateApr 3, 2014
    ISBN9781493184880
    Poetry and Other Stories
    Author

    Birdine L Remaley Jr

    Birdine L Remaley Jr was born in Allentown, PA on April 11, 1959. Currently, he resides in Whitehall, PA. He is a graduate of Duff’s Business Institute in Pittsburgh, PA. He has been writing since 2007.

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      Book preview

      Poetry and Other Stories - Birdine L Remaley Jr

      Poetry and

      Other Stories

      Birdine L Remaley Jr

      Copyright © 2014 by Birdine L Remaley Jr.

      ISBN:                  Softcover                                 978-1-4931-8487-3

                                  eBook                                      978-1-4931-8488-0

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

      Rev. date: 03/10/2014

      To order additional copies of this book, contact:

      Xlibris LLC

      1-888-795-4274

      www.Xlibris.com

      [email protected]

      610755

      Contents

      A Boy At Seven

      A Gentle Breeze Sweeps Through My Room

      A Graceful Journey

      A Junkie’s Reprise

      A Love Lost

      A Love’s Meaning?

      A Perfect Pill

      A Silent Recognition

      Again… Alone

      Alone At The Top

      An Obvious Deceit

      Angel Inside My Head

      Aunt D

      Baiting The Baitor

      Beginning

      Christmas Youngblood

      Dark Thoughts

      Death Of A Bully: The End Of Johnny Buoy

      For Nancy

      Hello

      I Know This Is Kinda Crazy

      If I Could Have Played With The Band

      If I Knew You Sooner…

      Just Farewell

      Lady Beheaded

      Leaving To Begin

      Longing

      Mr. Thead

      Noah Dowelsby

      Ode To My Guitar

      One Side Of Me

      Passion So Deep

      Perilous

      Rainbow

      Rushing The Rush

      Saturday Night Reminiscing

      Slow Ride From Home

      Special Season

      Stay Alive

      The Morning After

      The Old Man With The Shady Hair

      The Parting Ways

      The Rejected Prom Date

      Thinking Of You Tonight

      Through The Trees, I See

      Time

      Two As One

      When does love become a special thing?

      When The Sun Rises

      Winter Monster

      Dedication

      This book is dedicated to a very precious lady, Nancy.

      I could not have completed this without her support,

      encouragement, and love. Because of her,

      I have found my voice and calling.

      A Boy At Seven

      The sweltering sun beat down upon the field,

      The overgrowth of grass became his shield.

      A single corn husk, he clutched as he ran,

      A brief moment in time before he’ll be a man.

      Many suns would come, many will go;

      Remembering this time is what he’ll know.

      Encountering a hill, he chose to roll down,

      Over and over upon the lush, green lawn.

      Near the bottom, he came upon a lovely thing,

      Something that touched his heart, made his voice sing.

      It’s petals glistened in the sun; the flower a rose,

      He plucked it gently and held to his nose.

      He ran and ran like there would be no other,

      Once home, he surprised his mother.

      Her smile was wide; she patted his head.

      I love you, mom is all that he said.

      A Gentle Breeze Sweeps Through

      My Room

      By Birdine L Remaley Jr

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room,

      As I lay dying in the gloom.

      The air is dank and yet so sweet,

      Inviting death, I choose to greet.

      I have been patient as I wait,

      To leave this earth in such a state.

      It once was said, Death Be Not Proud,¹

      For I am not seeking a crowd.

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room,

      As I lay dying in the gloom.

      Soft footsteps approach my death bed,

      Eager to quell the tears I’ve shed.

      My body tenses as I lay,

      Awaiting the end of this day.

      I have suffered far too long,

      I need some peace just to be strong.

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room,

      As I lay dying in the gloom.

      From the darkness comes forth a hand,

      Touching my head, I need to stand.

      A voice whispers into my ear,

      Follow me now, is what I hear.

      As I stand and leave this bed,

      My blood thickens around my head.

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room,

      As I go forward in the gloom.

      A spectral force with strength so shy,

      Guides me towards a light in the sky.

      Through the window, in search of peace,

      My life is given a new lease.

      Just stay with me, you’ll have new life,

      I am promised despite the strife.

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room,

      As I go forward in the gloom.

      I see myself asleep inside,

      What should I do? Where should I hide?

      My mystery guide moves away,

      Should I go so others can stay?

      I’m not afraid of pending doom,

      A gentle breeze sweeps through my room.

      ¹Death Be Not Proud, Holy Sonnet #10, is a metaphysical poem by John Donne, written around 1610 and first published posthumously in 1633. Death Be Not Proud is a memoir by American author John Gunther, taking its name from Holy Sonnet X by John Donne. The story was portrayed in a 1975 TV movie starring Robby Benson as Johnny Gunther and Arthur Hill as John Gunther.

      A Graceful Journey

      As the skies split apart,

      To seize my broken heart;

      And help me to depart

      The shadows that I cart.

      Release me to the light;

      Somewhere far, somewhere bright.

      A path that leads to right

      And savors my delight.

      Guiding me to the place

      Where I can see my face,

      And darkness, I erase;

      Leaving my soul with grace.

      A Junkie’s Reprise

      Emerging from the murky, dense, blue, fog clouding my mind…

      Finding myself crawling through the ashes of the night left behind;

      Crumpled cans, broken fixtures, furniture strewn about,

      Searching my memory for traces of any lingering doubt,

      From the morass that occurred during this past night.

      Brushing the dirt from my shirt by the window that allows in light,

      Scanning the room for the remnants of any hiding soul,

      And glimpsing the debris from the drugs left near the pipe-bowl,

      No one is lurking, no one is here, everyone has made it out alive.

      I clasp my hands to my face and feel the stubble, I will survive.

      Tonight they will come again, staggering in from the dark of the street,

      Climbing my stairs, laughing in the hallway they bring the drugs of the beat.

      Their presence, their company, forgives all of their debt,

      But honestly, I cannot believe that no one has died just yet.

      A Love Lost

      she appears at his door… a face that smiles… green eyes sparkling and shining… his anticipation mounts… tender feelings exchanged… a touch upon his cheek… a kiss he returns… recounting things that were shared… a close, intimate embrace… emotions that swirl… old demons loom… his body betrays… cascading tears flowing… a single trickling tear… all happiness is lost… questions without answers… she’s gone with the night… he’s lost within himself… uncrossed empty arms… loneliness abounds… a heart with a void… what does it all mean? . . . he wanders on

      A Love’s Meaning?

      Your voice is in my ears,

      Your smile penetrates my soul;

      My hands are on your hips,

      It is my heart that you have stole.

      A simple play on words,

      Can only describe you as whole,

      My mind is what’s spinning,

      You’ve given me a better role.

      I often wonder why

      You continue to keep me close;

      After all I have done

      That makes me seem so bellicose.

      I want you in my life

      You complete me as you must know;

      I wish you felt the same.

      Where does this all go tomorrow?

      A love is in my heart,

      Your presence surrounds my soul.

      Your face is in my hands,

      Your beauty is what I extol.

      Birdine L Remaley Jr

      7192013-8182013

      A Perfect Pill

      You cannot possibly take all of that at one time, honey, she says as she gently sits on the edge of the bed.

      What do you mean? he asks as he looks up from the book that he’s reading.

      I mean, when you take just a half of the pill, it is good. We can make love for hours.

      "Baby, the doctor says I have a testosterone problem. I have less than 1/3 of the testosterone level in my bloodstream that I’m suppose to have. He recommends that to achieve my maximum sexual drive potential, I need to take a whole pill. I have to take 100

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