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Debbie Duncan Poem
I watched angels fall from grace today
I wondered how could this be
I looked to the heavens to ask
How could this have happened
How could angels fall so fast
I stood there I watched angels falling
I wondered how could this be
For aren't angels a part of thee
He looked down at me and said
"Yes my dear" indeed they are
But you see I gave them free will
When I set them free
Until they come back to me
I felt a tear roll down my cheek
As I stood in silence and watched
Then I laughed and I thought
HE should have chosen me
Then he would have seen
That I would never be
An angel who fell from grace
I watched angels fall from grace today
I ask myself how could this be
Why would the powers that be
Ever let such a thing happen
Then I looked up and I saw me
I was the one falling from grace
I remembered He once told me
You will have free will " till "
you come back to me
So I'll let you be
I watched an angel fall from grace today
But then I realized that it was me
As I looked into that mirror
I saw her staring back at me.
9,13,2010 4pm Monday
Since I was little I've thought about angels falling, must be the catholic church.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2010
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Debbie Duncan Poem
Go now, rest your weary heart.
Against the soft moonlit night.
Walk into the valley of peace and tranquility.
Loosen those chains that bind your soul.
Let them fall to the ground, never look back.
Let the veil of time lift you up.
As the last breath of life seeps from your lips.
Float out of this world and into the light.
Through the veil of time, go now, no time to wait.
For now, you are free, free to be who you really are.
Imagine you flying against the golden sun.
Fly with the spirits who light the nights.
Go now to the world beyond time.
Worn out with lost dreams, are you?
Go now and let them come true.
Set yourself free from these bones.
Feb. 29th, 2012 leap year
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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Debbie Duncan Poem
"Who's woods are these anyway'.
Who's woods that I dwell?
The house of Usher I know so well.
I seek to skate on the frozen lake.
These woods are deep, dark, and weak.
Though I would dance like a swan if I could.
The lake is always frozen this time of year.
How I love the night woods that cover me.
Under the bulging night skies of death.
Beyond the place of wrath and tears.
I would dance upon the lake till not.
Alluring, always caressing in a gentle touch.
I would be remembered as " The Great Swan".
Though here I sit in my bed chamber of death.
And wait for God to call my name.
1 pm wed. 7 / 24 / 2013, " House of Usher" stands for death, " right" the woods are a metaphor for the sick body.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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Debbie Duncan Poem
Sunshine streamed in through
the windows on a slant.
As she flipped long curly
red locks off her shoulder.
She took the other road
most often.
The road less traveled.
Why ?
Because that's how she liked it.
Only because she liked the curves
in the road.
There was a time or two she wondered
about the light flickering at the other end.
But she always had hope in her eyes.
At times it did not matter whether or not
someone was by her side.
Though she did prefer to be connected.
Alas, it couldn't be with just any soul.
She's always been a free spirit.
Such as the gypsies of old.
Coming in with the autumn leaves.
Just as she left on a summers day.
In the quiet of her flickering shadows
3 / 3 / 2014 Monday
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2014
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Debbie Duncan Poem
Alcohol, I see you there.
I've known who you are
for a very long time.
Such as when I was a little girl.
I remember your temper.
Your accusations of hate.
The sloppy drooling mess you are.
You God-fearing hypocrite.
The constant smell of you.
Repulsed me to no end.
I could never forget you.
How could you destroy my life?
What did I ever do to you?
You destroy everybody and everything.
I know that glassy glare in your eyes.
Rude, dirty, remarks you make, even if they were true.
Listening in silence for your footsteps down the hall.
I remember everything about you.
I am repulsed by the very thought of you.
Sun. 11 AM 7/ 21/ 2013, I decided to write this after I read Therese Bacha's poem I AM Alcoholic.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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Debbie Duncan Poem
When I am afraid
I close my eyes
I hear a sweet symphony
A thousand music tunes
All at once coming through
Young girl in the market
Yes, that's me, all alone
Eyes all full of mystery
As I sing away the loneliness
They say the most awful things
But I hear violins when I close my eyes
As I fly off to the center of my sun
So I cannot be hurt by anything
This wicked world as done
Young boy in the marketplace
He's taken by the men
As he wakes, can't remember anything
They break the most beautiful things
But I hear violins when I shut my eyes
And fly off to the center of the sun
So I cannot be hurt by anything
This wicked world has done
As I look into your eyes
I'm at the center of my sun
The boy in the marketplace
Sees the girl all alone
Have you lost your way home?
I look up, I hear his voice singing.
I hear sweet symphonies in his words.
As I look into his eyes
I'm at the center of my sun
And I cannot be hurt by anything
Of what this wicked world has done!
11 12 2012 10pm Monday
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2012
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Debbie Duncan Poem
As she saw it.
The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year. It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward. As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.
As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was, staring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way!
I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue. Whatever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind. He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me, surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
I could feel the tiny beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.
As he saw it.
The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun. The bears had come out of hibernation with their newborn looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life. Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace. To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.
I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows. So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a perfect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special. Stretching, I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest of a beautiful woman. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was staring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.
As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature, with the golden hair, and angelic face. As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.
Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot. As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding. Her dress shifted allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather than the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore. The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with its fire. I felt the beginnings of ~
Nov. 18, 1992, a Short story I started to write, A friend asks if he could write from a male's point of view.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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Debbie Duncan Poem
Under those wild blue skies.
Her favorite fruit was chocolate
covered cherries.
As the skies fell somewhere in time.
He knew she came from the heavens.
To be dropped into his arms alone.
He always loved the way the juice
dripped off her plump red lips.
As he caught the drops on his tongue.
Capturing some unknown secrets.
As he licked her juicy red lips.
She felt the thrust of his lust in her.
He so loved that childlike wonder in her.
As he looked into her dreamy eyes.
The stars make love to the universe.
As the skies of blue drift over time.
The night stars formed a mystery.
They were full of love, beauty, and lies.
9/30/ 2013
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2014
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Debbie Duncan Poem
There in another life.
I walked along.
There in another life.
You came along.
I felt you in the sun.
Where did the time go?
When we were one.
There in another life.
I felt your heart beating against my soul.
Where did the time go?
When we thought we were in love.
Why did it not manifest for a lifetime.
On a bed of roses, I lay with you.
But now I see them no more.
Why could we not dance this dance forever more?
Sunday 7pm 8/ 10/ 2013
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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Debbie Duncan Poem
As I draw my last breath.
I kiss her lips and wait.
I watch the carnival of lost souls.
Watch them all in their caravan.
On my weak body, I lay her hand.
How we laughed and played thru
the meadows of our heaven.
Though I have faith in the night.
My tear filled skin is soaked to the bone.
Love should not be if it feels like this.
I should let the devil dance upon my grave.
"If it is true I never see you in the light of day again.
I shall be lost to the darkness forever more.
Belladonna, my love, do not leave me now.
I cannot bare to lose you this day.
There would be no life in this body.
If I did not have your love and kindness
bestowed upon me.
9/ 6/ 2013 Fri listening to gothic music
Belladonna is Latin for “beautiful lady”.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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