Poetry In Motion - 9 New Poems



It's been a long time since I wrote any poety, and then this came out.  These nine poems are on PoemHunter (each of the titles is hyperlinked), so if you like any, please vote for them and comment there.  Thanks for reading.

The Older I Get:

The older I get,
The less I care.
The older I get,
The less I ask why
They curse and choose to stare.

The older I get,
The more I laugh,
The more I cry,
The more I take the time to do things for me,
let go and just let things be.

The older I get,
The more I age
And life becomes predictable,
I’m my very own sage.

The older I get,
The less I want,
The more I get.
And the harder I try.

The older I get,
The faster time flies
And I realize there’s no time for hesitation and fear
We have to do something.
Life’s about a lot more than just getting by.


A Mother’s Touch:

Gentle
Soft
Calming
A reminder of gratitude
Thankfulness
Against all odds-
Any odds
All the odds!

A mother’s touch,
There when you need it
But do not realize
That you’re tired,
You’re aching
But she knows.

When you cry,
She cries.
And when you laugh,
She rejoices.

And on the day they hurt you,
Dare they try,
She’ll be right behind you,
To support you
Or perhaps even step in front of you
To soften the blow.

And no matter what,
No matter how far
She’ll always be your mum.


Black is the Colour of My Fury:

My eyes are black
My nerves are red
Shattered
But there is no hatred,
No rage.
Just pain.
And an open wound,
Gouged,
Salted,
And left to heal,
Leaving a blemish,
A reminder – for one day’s conversation, when we revisit it again.


Burn Out:

When emotions die,
Batteries fail and your heart stops
Crippling your limbs,
The world’s a blur.

Where did passion go?
Whatever happened to motivation,
Inspiration,
And fun?

They walked away,
Took the flame with them,
But left you burning,
Sizzling
And crumbling into a dead ash.

But the phoenix shall rise
From burn-out
And fly once more –
One day
Some day
Any day now…


When Worlds Collide:

When worlds collide
And seasons change
All that’s left is you and me
And our very own sweet (in)sanity

You look at me as if to say:
‘You’re all that I need’
And I want to scream
‘You’re mad.’
And when you’re gone, you’re out
Making new friends,
I want to call:
‘Please come back’

And in the mornings
When you’re lying there
Baby faced and in your own peaceful sleep
I fall into pieces
Because I want to hold you, kiss you
Shake you awake so that you can rise to the pain
The pain of living,
The pain of loving
The pain of you and me,
Which is actually not pain at all
But mutual joy, understanding
Never-bending, never-ending
Just you and me.


I gave away all them pills:

I gave away all them drugs
Them pills,
With their numbing effects
Useless efforts
And side-effects, ills.

I gave them away
So I could feel
So that every tingle
Every sharp pang
Could hit me
Like a train headed for a thick stone wall.
And with that pang,
I’ll scream,
I’ll yell:
‘Why the heck did I give away all of them pills?!’


If only my mind were numb:

If only my mind were numb,
If only my intelligence were defined as
Below average
Stupid
Dumb.

Then I’d laugh,
Step, dance and sing
With no care in the world
No need to search – or yearn for
Intermediate thrills

I’d forget that
People suffer
Children are hungry
Consumerism is a religion
And faces often lie

If only my mind was dumb,
I’d shut up
And just be,
Not realizing that my being
Could not be farther away
From what it really means
To live.


Too bad, so sad:

Too bad, so sad
That’s what they’ll say
When you pour out your heart
When you reach out and cry
‘I need you humankind, I need you’

They’ve been programmed, you see
To look out for themselves and the small circles around them
If you aren’t in that circle
If you don’t stand on common ground –
Too bad, so sad.

And then you cry,
Scream,
Run down the street searching
For someone’s eyes, anybody’s eyes – alive
Looking, listening and feeling
And maybe those eyes will look at you,
Actually see you
Without dismissively looking away
And chanting
‘Too bad, so sad…’


If Music Died:

If music died,
I’d be a carcass
My ears ripped out
With no use but to decay.

If music died,
I’d have no ambition
To play that riff
Dignify that rhythm and
To sing –
Sing for joy,
Sing for love,
Sing for all those who do not mourn
The death of real music.

(c) Maja Dezulovic

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