Hand-Outs
Two hands appear before me,
One with promise the other with dreams.
Filled with doubt but much more greed
I reach for money and leave the keys;
But looking forward, eyes look back,
An old mans face worn, weary, wishing for another,
A chance again to take the other track
Shortsighted he was, but too late did he discover;
Money, a friend of no man!
Turn back I tried but that door had shut,
What I needed was in the other hand,
And now I slowly walk towards the old man’s hut.
_________________________~~~______________
Fall
Fall is like an diligent parent
(always around to at the
right time) coming for their children after a long day,
cooling them off after a fun summer
(working hard with no complaints) and
always dedicated to their children;
fall is diligent parent watching over us all,
(always hardworking, but just as caring
watching over the flora and fauna, fall sends
them sleep for the long winter and
sends some south, kicking them out
for their own good) mindful of our boredom, but
giving festivities to pass the time.
________________~~~____________________
What are dreams?
Dreams are goals unattainable by day.
From young I always idolized my dreams,
In one a hero saving the world in another an astronaut,
visiting aliens on different planets.
But as I age the standard subsides, less a hero, less a genius,
and more a happy man. The young and older me meet,
the at the goals the young for the hero, the genius,
and the old me points to a door labeled “responsibilities”.
He says “Can your dreams put a roof over your head,
can your hero feed a starving family, does your genius
have time to visit his ailing parents ? ”
For what are dreams but empty wishes.
Wishes of futurity. Wishes the mind force
you to relive. But these wishes are not unattainable
 these dreams keep us going. No matter how small,Â
a greed turned goal, a goal turned
dream, a dream turned reality.
A dream knows of possibilities because it is a possibility.
For a dream is only a dream when it is unaccomplished.
_____________________~~~______________________
Blue
Blue is the color of the watching sky is a field where the animals graze.
Always around but never there.
A color stuck in place in the depths of emotion.
Blue is stagnant, taking up time but leaving you with too much space.
Powder and turquoise, blue comes in many forms,
not enough but almost there, sapphire tears of sadness, the weight of the ocean like a steel blue. Blue is a deep color but
blue isn’t always sad. So be ready. For blue is music,
a tone and though it appears still, blue is alive and it’s electric.
IM INLOVE WITH YOUR DREAM POEM, it’s so deep yet so simple with so much meaning!!
I enjoyed your poem Hand-Outs because I thought it was very true. It says a lot about what we value in society. The American dream is built on the idea of having a house, with a significant other, pets, kids, a 9 – 5 job. Some people when their young will value money over all else but will one day realize that they missed out on so many other things life had to offer.
I enjoy how you saliently capture the nature of the subjects discussed in each poem, particularly the dual and almost contradictory nature of the color blue, the intangibility and empty nature of dreams, and the non-fulfilling (false, even) nature of riches without anything to go with them.
I like the poem Blue, you did a great job defining the meanings behind a color, a bit of sadness, but optimistic at the end.