My Neighbors Don't Make Love No More, and other poems

I spend a lot of time going from place to place and sometimes I have a moment to write a quick poem here and there. Here are a few, some comical, some philosophical, others reflective.

My neighbors don't make love no more.
Can't hear them moan beyond the door.
Or the rattling of their rusty bed,
Sending daydream pornos through my head.
They're still together.
Maybe its the weather.
I see them cross the veranda as they walk.
I sometimes even see them talk.
But why do they make love no more?
Why don't I ever hear her roar?
Across the thin, earthquake proof walls,
Across the wooden apartment stalls.
I don't know what to say.
I do hope they're okay.
Or maybe its just all in my head.
Perhaps they simply moved the bed.
--Lacey Reah

And for something completely different and more Zen-like:

Nothing is permanent
Nothing temporary
We are made of the same stuff
Ever changing
Never dying
Always striving, shining, crying
--Lacey Reah

I was pretty stressed and busy. Then I had a minute between gigs and wrote this on a notepad:

Babes and teens
Bosses and dollars
people and the masks they wear
Juggling clients
Just trying to get there
Cars and buildings
Pollution in the big city
With a palm tree
Here and there
Life happens
but the birds keep cawing
And vermin scatter
From here to there
We adapt somehow
To the crowds and noise
To the daily stress
We think will drive us insane
My thirty second vacation
A bird on a branch
The sky above me
And the gentle relief
When I hear you laugh
A soothing balm to my pain
--Lacey Reah

A quick observation I made, I do hate seeing my single friends struggle every year around the same time:

Today is Friday the 13
Tomorrow Valentines Day
I watch in awe
As my single friends
Grow more and more
Psycho
--Lacey Reah

Giving credit to my best friend:

Oh diary, my diary
my ode to you
Friends come and go 
But you remain true
--Lacey Reah

My First Heartbreak

I found this old poetry book I wrote when I was in high school. I never published it, but I was amazed at how good some of the poems were and how bad the others were. I couldn't help noticing how hard I took my first heartbreak. It made for some great poetry. I must warn you that I was never an apple pie teenager. I saw some dark things at a young age. I'm probably more of a rosy cheeked, easy go lucky person now than I was as a kid.

Broken Heart

Now all my fears are clouded by the pain,
And day by day I wonder through the years,
Pondering wirling riddles all in vain.
Oh, could I ever ever love again!
When once my life was happiness and bliss,
Now nothing can undo this heavy strife.
His tender kiss and soothing words I miss
And long the warming comfort of his lips.
Through empty streets of doleful thoughts I roam
With heavy tears I drown my nightly sheets.
I fill the hollow streets with woeful moan
And wonder if I'll ever find a home.
I plod with grief and anguish through the rain,
as stormy winds blow through the winter leaves.
What happy thought could overtake the shame.
How could I ever ever love again?
--Lacey Reah

Solitude

Now wearied by distress my loved ones bring,
Yet knowing what distress I bring them too,
I'll ask them not for one more joyful thing,
And seek a world that's cold but plainly true.
I'll occupy myself in study's might
And substitute my friends with greedy goals,
without the pain of a true lover's fright,
who knows not when to rage or when to hold.
I'll turn from love of love to love of feat,
And lust for only what myself achieve,
To never know what strangers I may meet,
Lest they may touch my soul where it can bleed.
For if I ever look back on my youth,
On smiles, on tears, sweet friendships there will be.
In them was too much depth and too much truth,
And too much love, though not deserved by me.

So its becoming obvious that one of my main influences was Shakespeare, but its plainly obvious in the poem below, how often I read Poe.

I Fear No More The Coming of the Night

I fear no more the coming of the night,
Nor dread in shadows what may lie,
And all that once would fill me with affright,
Like mysteries that clung unknown,
Now draw me in with all their dark delight
Until to me their shown.

I fear no more the creatures that may peep,
From their bleak abodes of blackness,
That once would vex and ward me from my sleep,
With their lingering tales of yore.
I follow them into their caverns deep,
Until they be no more.

I fear no more what glaring eyes of hate,
May lurk behind a suave facade,
Or ghastly things that rage and curse my fate,
With their fiendish spell charms of old.
I quell their plagues before all is too late,
Their spells through darkness told.

Now, when I find a place that holds no light,
Surrounded by impending gloom,
I retreat not but seek out all its might,
To find when greeted by the sun,
The break of day is but the close of night,
When all the seeking's done.