A Troubled Soul

In the early hours
I saw church spires,
graveyard stones
and decaying bones,
troubled souls that lay
beneath the clay,
one entered my mind,
a release to find.

She gave no peace
until she found release
from her burning thoughts
that had been caught
in a world where time
refused death to the mind,
where the past won’t die
in those that lie.

I tried to end my dreams,
but in vain it seems.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Michelle's Surprise

Michelle is a spinster in her thirties
she's lived and knows the score.
She'd finally found a likeable man,
divorced and single for sure.

She allowed herself several weeks
to ensure he was Mr Right.
Over shadowing all her past lovers,
he was sincere, loving, and bright.

For twelve weeks she lived in heaven,
until she discovered a lie.
He was using an on line dating service,
seeking relationships on the sly.

She thought, don't get mad get even,
and joined the same dating site.
As another woman she replied to his posting
and arranged a date for a Friday night.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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The Eyes of Age

I’m looking through the eyes of an aged man
who has lived his life the best he can.
I’ve made countless mistakes before arriving here,
suffered broken hearts and shed many a tear.

And now I see young men doing exactly the same,
making similar mistakes and suffering pain.
If only they would ask, I could save so much grief,
but their silly pride is beyond belief.

Most young people see me as a burned out old man;
but I can see as a youngster can.
I look at middle aged men and consider myself the same,
but I forget about my looks, my shape, and ageing pain.

When I see a young lady, who takes the time to smile at me,
I straighten my back, breathe in, and smile anxiously,
but then I realise I’m not a young man, so dream on old fool,
she’s only being polite and you’re beginning to drool.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Malaria

I got this inclination to find
some thing that wasn’t lost.
I knew not what it looked like,
but to find it I knew I must.

I discussed it with my colleagues
and rightly so they thought me mad.
But the feeling was overwhelming
and was the first of its kind I’ve had.

I visited museums and libraries,
researched chronicles and books.
Diligently viewed my surroundings
leaving nothing overlooked.

A year passed and I lost interest,
and found something else to do.
Soon afterwards I fell off a ladder
and laid unconscious on ward two.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Devotion

Your life was threatened just after you arrived here,
but you beat the reaper despite all our fears.
You'll never be the person you were supposed to be,
your brain was damaged irreparably.

But don't you worry, I'll always be there for you,
you've suffered more than anyone is expected to.
I don't have to wonder where my strength will come from
your bravery inspires me to help you carry on.

I do what I do because I want to spend time with you,
you share not only my life but my blood too.
Regardless of your suffering you always manage a smile,
this alone makes my devotion so worthwhile.

I don't think about the sacrifices people say I make,
it's a pleasure that I'm doing it just for your sake.
It makes me sad when I think how you could've been,
but this is worse than an impossible dream.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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My First Love

For no reason at all she came into my thoughts and dreams
I don’t know why, I haven’t seen her since she was seventeen.
She brought with her forgotten memories I thought had gone,
but they’re still there to think about and to touch upon.

The happy and sad times that we both lived through
as teenage lovers with passions so strong and true.
We lived and breathed for each other every moment of the day,
and our hearts would break if we had to spend time away.

So strong was our love, we would have died for each other,
we experienced every emotion that was possible together.
My insane jealous nature eventually forced us to part
it left us with sadness and our first broken heart.

At the time there was nothing else worth living for,
but time heals and I found another love to adore.
Looking back, my first true love is still special to me,
we discovered what love was and how it should be.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Jackie

Jackie lies trapped beneath a heavy man,
who didn’t care, or give a damn.
She’s waiting for the police to arrive
because this man’s no longer alive.

The night began with her friends in town
visiting the pubs and doing the rounds.
With endless laughs they were having a ball,
flirting with guys as last drinks were called.

The girls decided it was time for a meal
and an Indian curry was full of appeal.
Food was hot and they enjoyed what they had,
but Jackie ate too much, and she felt bad.

She went outside to get some air,
a car stopped and the driver spoke to her.
He pulled her in and then sped away
and came to a halt just off the highway.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Seek and Thou Shall Find

I stopped to ask this young woman for directions,
she hesitated then said, “Now let me see”.
Her voice was clear, soft and gentle,
and she smiled politely at me.

The directions she gave me were complicated,
but as it happened she lived close by the place,
so she said she would walk so far with me
and as I said thank you, another smile lit up her face.

Our talking passed the time away very quickly
and she said, “This is as far as I go.”
She then asked if I had got time for a coffee
and I said, “How could I possibly say no.”

We talked as we walked up to her apartment,
and coffee was my only intent.
We talked and drank coffee until after midnight,
but then our hands touched by accident.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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Night Shadows

The night created the changing forms that moved
as the frightened child lay in her bed.
Under the covers she hid away from the monsters
before they could manage to get into her head.

From out of the scary, humid, darkness of the cave
she found herself at the foot of a rainbow.
Sitting on yellow tinged red grass beneath a pink sky,
the sun cast its ever-changing glow.

A dapper red spotted bullfrog sat beside her
and introduced himself, as Thomas Black.
He spoke of his peculiar friends that lived near by
that moved sideways and never forward or back.

They moved around in circles all day,
just watching them made him dizzy.
He'd much rather swim in a lemonade pond
full of bubbles that were tastefully fizzy.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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The Next Life

Some say that when your life comes to an end
a new life as a spirit you’ll forever spend.
The thought of this is really hard to believe,
so difficult to picture and perceive.

It doesn’t seem possible that one can live after death,
be without a beating heart and unable to take a breath.
No need for food and drink as a necessity to sustain,
no creative touch, no passion, no embrace, no pain.

Illness no longer exists, so no doctors are required,
no work to be done, so no pressure of being fired.
Personal hygiene has finished, no toilet or shower,
time has no meaning, so no need to chase the hour.

In spiritual form there will be no need for walking,
telepathy will be the only means of talking.
Materialistic items are unnecessary in any form
and no one can cause you physical harm.

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poem by Orlando Belo
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