Broken Hearted Twice

The years are weighing me down most beloved
For i am but a shipwreck of a woman, my dear
Clinging to mid-lifes glorified Golden
Yet letting go of agony's bitter tears;
Looking through the windowpane of our life
Yellow fields-they oft' turn to pale green
Whispers from the winds of sweet surrender
Yet mistakes refuse to embellish my dreams;
Oh, oh, my most beloved
Am i now invisible to thine eye?
Do the Angels fear to tread near to me?
Or 'tis our re-union perhaps nigh?
Spheres of half-thought-half-spoken love words
Changed the course of Winters Arrows Of Ice
Tomorrow, oh tomorrow-what shall it bring-my darling?
In loving you-I am broken hearted...twice;

By: Theodora Onken

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Beauty-Defined~

I can't remember tuna sanwiches
Ever tasting so good
Or chicken noodle soup, so tasty;
Must have always been the cook;
The company that i was blessed
To keep...
Back in the day when big-hearted
People were scarce;
When their smiles and uplifting
Words raised me up out of the
Dodrums of sad and confused;
She was like that you know-my Joyce...
A ray of blessed sunshine in the
Cold Seattle rain; And her laughter-
Her laughter was contagious-
And even after all of these years
I can still remember it! ;
What a gift she was-
A best friend, confidant and an
Angel in disguise;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Temporary

It comes across as a vapor-
Its tenative and ephemeral and slight-
Its the reflection and absolute detection...
Of ones true spirit when exposed to: The Light;

'Tis ones true nature and character-
As oft' influenced by spleen and bitter bile-
Its the Green Monster-jealousy and envy-
Its the absolute truth when in denial;

It comes across as a vapor-
Its tenative and ephemeral and slight-
Its the reflection and absolute detection-
Of ones true spirit when exposed to: The Light;

Its what happens when you give of yourself...!
And are broken hearted only to find...
That the one that you held in such high esteem...
Is in reality-just a vapor-filled to its mist with unkind;

poem by Theodora Onken
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A WayFarer

The cliffs are the edges of paper--

That time has torn away...

Eroded rock-solid paper...

Jagged reminders of yesterday;

Once a diary of stone-hearted entries--

Surfaced as hardened clay...

But worn away from the Springtime downpours...

And collapsed in Wayfarers Bay;

Pages and pages of dogeared cliffs...

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Poet-Robert Edgar Burns (February 14,1953-April 20,2012)

The final curtain lowered itself
As footlights shown ever bright
And from the balcony-there was still applause
In what had been the theater of your life;
Your poetry-a warming banner
Of Anthems of Life and Hymns of Grace
Always with gentle traces of you upon the pages
And the goodness that shown upon your face;
But pain had been your constant companion
With no reprieve in sight
God in all of His infinite wisdom and compassion
Called you home the other night;
Now you have your Genesis in Heaven
A mortal Soul of Poetry's Divine Word
Writing your simple truths and light-hearted reflections
Leaving a Legacy of your rhyme to be forever heard;

poem by Theodora Onken
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Empty

In the melancholy, of my mind today
Tucked, but not hidden away
Is the 'Blue on Blue' of my entire life
With the sorrows, of my yesterdays.

Approaching them, with nostalgic pangs...
I reach, out comes, all the worse...
Knowing things, that i must face
Remembering mistakes, i now curse.

My life, a never ending lesson...
Each day, something new. i learn
Today, heartbreak and even more sorrow...
Along with disgust, i burn.

I wipe the tears, from my green-gray eyes
Call it a waste, of sorrows energy...
Pick myself up, off the ground
Trying to face, the world unemotionally.

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Home ' I Know'

I reach for the sapphire Heavens
...Filling my hands with the Firmaments Prayer
....On into the Ebon' of Noir'
...Where Broken Hearts, cry in despair

I must call upon My Maker.....
....Through My Ethereal Circumstance
...Floating, i, upon a Silken veil
...Of Salvations Divine Ambience

A Light and Warmth, it fills me
....It has raised me above the Sod
.....Floating e'er upwards in shimmering Ecstacy
...To, at last, Touch The Hand of God.

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(My Corona) -2U

I want for nothing
But buttercups
And
The illume of
The afternoon
When the sun
Is due South
To be carried
'Cross meadows
Summer sweet
With Rhubarb and
Berries of varied
Colours picked
Laid ever so gently
In my basket
Bathed in the sweet
Honey Comb
Of The Bee
To be serenaded
By the Songbirds

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I Will Remember You (A Psalm)

Lion of the Senate-

Gladiator for all just cause-

Camelots last standing son-

A kind-hearted soul with few flaws;

You became a big part of me-

Long ago when i was very young-

Embracing your entire family-

Since Johns presidency had begun;

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Second Hand Devotion

Here you go playin' with my heart again-
Practicin' your second hand devotion-
Stirrin' me into a lovin' hope again-
You're playin' with my emotion;

Why'd you have to come back anyway?
Messin' with my wore out heart?
Drivin' hope into my lonely soul-
Only-to take it all apart;

You say and do all kinds of lovin' things-
But then you begin to sorta' wear thin-
Actin' bored and our loved you ignore-
And im wonderin' just where your heart has been;

Here you go playin' with my heart again-
Practicin' your second hand devotion-
Stirrin' me into a lovin' hope again-
You're playin' with my emotion;

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The Undertaker

Hes cold-hearted and stoic to a fault-
He oft' appears at ones front door...!
Dressed in black for hidden attack...!
'Tis evil to his very core;

He always leaves his calling card...
Its printed in blood tinged red...! !
Hes the Undertaker with blue-veined wired hands...
Complete with 'delusions of grandeur' in his head;

To say that he is cruel or sinister---
Well, honestly that would be speculation---
But you know there are hints of his malice and maddness...
In words-cleverly buried in sublimation;

For its told he will curse the ground that you walk on...! ! !
Set spells of his magic deemed ever so black...
Seems death 'tis his most fervent destination--
Found in the morbitity of much garnered fact;

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Poem

I pound the concrete
Way too wired to sleep;
In just the ecstacy of it all
And the brillant colours of Fall;
Laid wide open am i
Oh so vunerable to the grey sky;
Overwhelmed by much emotion
And a seasons worth of utter devotion;
Replaying old love letters in my mind
So many words there do i find;
As i walk this busy street
Still too wired to sleep;
In the ecstacy of it all
Mixed with the rich colours of Fall;
I remember a better time
When my words always turned to rhyme;
Automatically it seems
But unreal as if from a dream;
Into a rhapsody ever clear
Of two beating hearts so very near;

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What Real Friendship Is

Friendship sails 'cross all kinds of seas-
The calm, the stirred, the galed...
Serene, difficult and outright stormy...
But true friendship-it never fails;

You come together open-hearted-
With profound respect and devotion-
Tied together with a common thread-
That can sustain any waves of the ocean;

The mark of true friendship stands...
Even when ones skies turn grey-
It is not just partial to sunny fair weather...!
Or absolute attendence come what may! ;

For oft' times we get side tracked...
From our own personal tragedies or worse...
Leaving us sometimes absent but never forgetting...
Our true friends in lifes most gifted verse;

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Pleasure In Our Bounty

Bountiful harvests compliment you-beloved;
So rich with the gathering bounty...
Your wheat and corn fields are most plentiful... indeed--
Garning the corn 'tis nigh;
We two are within these fields--
Aglow with love...
Our hearts never more sure;
Explicit in our very dreams---
We dance to the rhythm of our hearts...
And welcome the twiglight with open arms...
Soon-yes- very soon--
A waltz under the Harvest Moon---
You 'twil surely catch me should i swoon...
For in your arms...beloved...'tis where i belong;
Ah... but for the gathering...
The season for sowing 'tis done--
And together a prolific abundance we have reaped--
Could our love ever be more grand or fulfilling--
As it 'tis right now...this very moment?
Here 'neath the moon-in the breeze of our Eternal Youth?

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Too Many

To many broken promises...
Too many hearts heavy with care--
Too many fires of un-requited love--
Too many bleeding wounds of utter despair;

Too many doors that have closed forever...
Too many bridges burned behind...
Too many left with questions and no answers...
Too many good Souls lost over time;

Oh-the woes and the sorrows...
How they do suffer ones aching heart--
Un-neccesary travails and endless miseries...
Too many lives-shattered apart;

The Golden Rule
June 18,2010

poem by Theodora Onken
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The Whole Of It

Life 'tis but a vapor-
Heart and mind-as a star-
Body-a living dust-
Soul-energy from afar-
Complex in continuity-
A gathering of all parts-
Giving us our own idenity-
Ruled always by ones own heart-

By, Theodora Onken

December 17,2011

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Paradise Found

Captured in the suns warm glow
Bound and tethered 'neath it's beams
Gladdened by the sapphire sky
Realizing my summertime dream

It all came about so quickly
In a meadow all green from chlorophyll
Blooming Daisy's everywhere
The summer air fresh and e'er still

Bathed i am in total wonder
Caressed and embraced my mind
Heart and Soul enraptured
This place not hard to find

Exclusive summertime Light and Love
Are earned by our deeds so done
Relinquished totally our Souls and Hearts
United in the sunshine as one

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Passing Over

No comfort for me in
The valley of Scorn
So little empathy for
Me in the grave
Treaded upon by the
Mighty men
From the Ruling Nth
Brigade
Savage eyes they burn me
Melting me stoic as stone
And in the Flash Of Thunder Dance
My body becomes charred bone
Soon it will be: ashes to ashes
Underneath a Mourning Veil
Dust-to-Dust will haunt both of us
But in the end-goodness shall prevail
The funeral pyre-it rattles me
And insenses my psyche's whole
Broken in my heart of hearts
Death-it takes its toll

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Treasure N Time

O' treasure of my heart simply linger...
Where sweet memories have gone astray
For, i need desperately to see your image-
Through these lost neurons of yesterday;

Your absence leaves such an abyss
Nothing to grasp in this void called living
I am dying a thousand little deaths daily...
No return for the love i am giving;

Treasure of my heart remind me
How to be ever so humble in my need
Splash your image 'cross my psyche
I shall follow where ever you lead;

I have missed you ever so deeply...
And my hours are filled with unending fears-
The clock of life 'tis ticking rapidly
The second hand 'tis spent with my tears;

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~Soul's Quest~

I do believe that i have waited
All of my life-
For words so tantilizing sweet-
The sound of hearts beating
So close
To one another-
'Tis a life complete!
And wide open Soul's-
Beneath the Love-
Expressed-
A million years-
In one second-
That passes-
And stills the sound-
And radiates heavenly-
The aroma-pheromones!
And knowing-
But not really knowing-
For sure-
We're bound...

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poem by Theodora Onken
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