Rejoice: In Morning's Glory
REJOICE!
O’ the early dawn spills through the blind
The window and all around
Too, your love rises with the sun
Spills bright everywhere around
Your eyes shine tender care in abound
I must give praise today for,
Gentle hands that caresses my cheek
Hands, the manicurists that make soft my feet
While I dream, they place water, pills, all
Near my head, then follows with
Coffee to wake my sleepy head
The splendor of your loving care
Gives me surety of pure love
My dear dare see what I see:
Gaze in your own heart, within
Sits love in sheer delight,
I dream of my being your feet in
Your empty shoes,
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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My Oasis
How long,
should it matter
or is it just desire
out-living performance?
They lay beneath desert moon
Turning toward the past
Placing blame on the:
Sand-blind -eyes
Heart in bind
Face in frown
Idle arms
Bridled mouth
Now, passion upsurges!
His arm surrounds her waist
His eyes gleam lust as
Both relax in shade
Hands stray
Poetry awakes
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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My Silver Bell
Just look at that sweet thing
wearing a tight silver wrap!
Sitting at the table, inhaling
and exhaling smoke rings,
his eyes sparing not a minute
off that sweet southern bell,
yet keeping
his desire under his cap,
his dazzling red eyes on her
bell-shape bottom.
Salavating like pavlo's dog
He grabs it! Peeled off the shiny wrap-
completely exposing her milk -chocolate -body.
Extending his trembling hands
to meet her offer as beads of moisture rose
like the morning dew, cooling his forehead.
The hard-eating chocoholic
grabbed silver-bell off the table,
tossed It into his waiting mouth,
circled it with his tongue,
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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To a Loving Husband
That day stripped off summer things:
Salved the burns from sun,
heals scorched soul,
now comes autumn to brown all.
Now I'm poised!
Somewhere soul mates relax
beneath canopied happiness,
bliss replaced unhappiness.
Since we not kin, love pours
through veins, making
us one in same.
From the depth and breadth
of my heart out spranged love.
Days after days and
weeks after weeks completing
themselves into years.
How many ways you present your love,
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Babe You Left...
Six remnants, your shadows acutely damaged, and
Severly tortured are your survivors. Still I see
two braids slouched on your shoulders:
A Shamed Choctaw face concealed under a wide-brimmed hat;
Two beady eyes blinking, squinting above your aquiline nose, just
a squawking at your widow's peak that looks like a petite plait
Your pigeon toes touching and caressing each other somewhat like a creative child pointing to white sheep floating in the sky. Though real are the remnants compiled and concealed under your felt-hat.
Babe, you never knew that a surviving piece of you, with zest
hawked your house, land, then placed your remains in a distant land.
Yet not burying her meanness, apathy, and hate to rest.
You left your time-worn descendants holding Pandora's cache.
Misery and evil destroyed most, and one of four under continual attack.
Babe, you carried scores of secrets to cold grave's stash.
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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I Hold These Random Thoughts
For quite some times…my beloved seems
to misunderstand things we've done
and what to do about those things.
I've grown weary sitting in that tempest pot
filled with 'vengeance is mine' instead of
'love your neighbor as yourself.'
Some so -called Christ-children speak
divinely, yet not journey with [H]im as
LOUDLY proclaimed!
Imagining neighbors in different regions
can apportion memories of unshared
youths digging potatoes in separate fields;
chopping worthless weeds that surround
my momma's lush collard greens. Still I
envision lying in a hammock made of lovely
fabric and suspended between those infected
with love and those infected by satan virus.
Thinking still of growing up in different locales.
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Her Lost Treasure
Oh god your world is declining in
Silence and darkness, yet at times, the
Mind holds the attention of your beauty
Even when stories and words of the
Past, present, and future get more
difficult to search, she doesn't cease searching
I've known dark tunnels and roads of steel.
Slow moving trains, whistling in bending curves,
still I roll into the station with a smile.
I've marveled many morning's silver sunflowers
In distance sky, smiling, and later fading into the
Evening's refulgent colors
Now, left fumbling in the dark.
Where's the switch that turns the light
On my brain's anthology
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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A Loving Partner
We found each other under
evening's orange horizon.
Hearts pulled by moon and
Swept up in the wave of time.
If ever a woman is happy in her man...
I'm she who delights in calming your needs!
Sweet spring springs pretty flowers.
Solstice winter shares its gloom, yet
our love remain in bloom, its beauty
kept by summer's warm sun
Your words in 'your killing love'
are like flower heads in spring;
temperature slowly rising like morning's sun.
King cobra, I offer you love instead of cream
and commands you to rise up close to
my heart planting kisses on my lips.
Take my life; death is mine.
You chose this hanging fruit
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Moving and Dreaming: # 2
Out and in morning’s blue, moving up,
moving down dew-covered asphalt ground,
snaking around tree lined curves,
progressing in morning’s blue,
warm air embraces face and
moves around huddling bushes
ruffling chattering chickadees unsettling
them to wing;
still rocking heel on toe, leaning
briskly into curves, falling into dreams
of our first kiss that roused,
setting in motion all that is in spring,
half- bloom- youth holding hands under
yellow moon, rising from far east
giggles wash the shame-face cradling
in his waves
couldn’t help note heart yearning,
feeling love in night’s filled mist.
Bones lacking mass, wobbly legs...eye lids
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Sitting in the Shopping Mall watching the World Pass by
Watching hundreds of long lifers- the old-
That the health care system can't hold.
Giving praise to passing parents, their young, but inwardly
aware that, early life is ephemeral and nurturing sustaining.
Casting a quick glance at teenagers wandering floor after floor,
and wondering why they're not entering schools door after door.
Watched both males and females dressed in martial wares but,
wishing their clothes were colorful peaceful wears.
Seeing people lining up to wage their last pay, I bet they wishing
for certainty against expectation and probability.
Listening to languages of the world of bodies colored black, brown
and white; outwardly expressing affection for the opposite and same sex.
Hearing some speaking in tongues praising their God; some unbelievers, still others unaffectedly winding in and out of the crowd.
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poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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