I am I am I am. a Collection of Poems. Read online

  I am, I am, I am

  A Collection of Poems.

  By

  Jane E Libeau

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Jane E Libeau on Smashwords

  I am, I am, I am

  A Collection of Poems

  Copyright © 2015 by Jane E Libeau

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  I hope you enjoy the poetry as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  *****

  I am, I am, I am

  A Collection of Poems.

  *****

  Poems

  Walking a New Road

  I Love You

  A Dream

  The Tree

  Confusion

  Boarders

  Horizons

  A Weary Wonderer

  The Silent Word

  Degrees of Colour and Vision

  Human Resilience

  The Meaning of Life

  I am, I am, I am

  Walking a New Road

  She had walked for many miles,

  Stood upon the highest mountains of thought,

  Slept within the deepest valleys of loneliness

  And bathed in the meandering rivers of joy.

  The ocean waves talked of her adventures,

  The trees whispered the secrets of her growth,

  The wind brought change;

  Even when she resisted.

  Every morning the sun offered her new life

  And at night the moons light guided her

  Through her darkest hour.

  The tides brought forth new ideas,

  New beginnings and washed away

  The whittled notions of what was.

  And she would form new possibilities.

  And she thanked them all

  For what they brought to her.

  She learnt that to be wise

  Was not about knowing all,

  But about accepting and moving

  With those energies.

  And she would dream dreams

  That would allow her to come and go

  With peace and security

  As she dreamt of walking a new road.

  I Love You

  Borne from the ashes

  Of the psyches’ youth,

  There was love in the heart

  Of the servant of truth.

  Awakening fires

  Dampened by tears,

  The phoenix love

  Overcomes all fears...

  The breath of the soul

  The thought of the mind,

  The touch of the flesh

  The essence of kind.

  I danced with you

  In the morning light,

  And in your slumber

  I held you tight.

  As I am filled to the brim

  I spill over on you,

  And whisper the love

  I say from my heart, I love you.

  A Dream

  A fleeting moment

  A distant gaze

  I saw you through

  A smoky haze

  You smiled at me

  I felt your eyes

  Penetrate my

  Earthly disguise

  I wondered if you thought of me

  I wished for you to look for me

  And through the night I dreamed of you

  And in the day I looked for you

  A dream you are, a dream you be

  I wish, oh, I wish you’d dream of me

  The Tree

  There is a tree that stands in the valley

  And its branches sway in a gentle breeze

  It takes in the warmth of the sunlight

  Its silent sighs, if audible would please.

  Her feet caress the moist, dark soil

  Her toes spread wide and deep

  She stretches to the awakens of spring time

  After a long recuperative sleep.

  She dresses her self in fine green leaves

  And birds have adorned her with their nests

  Leaves have decayed around her base

  To reveal her own saplings doing their best.

  In this ritual she has always participated

  And she now does it alone

  She is the last tree in that valley

  The rest were taken from this home.

  She stands beside trickling water

  And weeps on this fine spring day

  And laments over the memory of her sisters

  Who were brutally taken away.

  Across the stream, along the bank

  She hears a soft and silent cry

  The words of the her sisters saplings call

  “We are your sisters children, we live and will not die”.

  She raises her limbs in the soft spring breeze

  As if to give praise to the sun

  And whispers words to her family

  “Life continues and life has begun”.

  There is a tree that stands in the valley

  And her branches sway in a gentle breeze

  She watches over the growing saplings

  Their silent sighs, are audible and please.

  Confusion

  It came down in a soft blue light

  It played the flute under a moonless night

  And all it seemed and all it could be

  Was an image of confusion

  Laid out for me

  And the soft voice sung

  And a humming bird hummed

  The song, which I could embrace

  There you were with long brown hair

  With silence written across you face

  I heard the whisper

  A call for order

  I saw the water

  It brushed the border

  Then I stood in silence

  Left alone

  And found my voice quiver

  As I talked on the phone

  There was no one listening

  So what could I say?

  I shall wait in the moonlight

  For a sunnier day.

  Borders

  You run the rapids

  The safety of the levee you sought

  It was me who wanted to throw

  The anchor to a drifting thought

  But who am I to interfere

  When I am a stranger

  And you are over there

  I feel weak to your needs

  And I am aching inside

  I find I am feeling

  I am tormented and cried

  I can sense you and feel you

  And I have reached out my hand

  I can stand by you and hold you

  But there is water between our lands

  I am drawn to be near you

  I am being pushed away

  I cannot stay strong without wanting

  Shall I go, or shall I stay?

  Horizons

  She stands on the edge

  Of her own existence

  Watches the waves of her life

&nbs
p; Crash against the rocks of time.

  She casts her eyes past the horizon

  Lifts her thoughts beyond the rising sun

  And she begins to drift.

  Images of self submerge

  Into the depths of the rising tide.

  From herself she sets flight

  Into the meaning of her being.

  Glance back, she does not

  And all that was remembered

  Is now forgot.

  I step forward from my observation

  Of that woman

  Ascending to her horizon

  Her journey watched,

  Untold.

  I wander to where she stood

  I stand in her footprints

  And look out to where she wished to be

  I saw her as she looked back at me.

  A smile she gave from that distant place

  That horizon.

  Had she found what she did seek?

  As her image faded

  I could not ask

  And she could not speak.

  A Weary Wanderer

  Across the plains of life

  The steps of every moment

  Scuffs across the memory

  Of where one once has been

  Behind us

  Are left the footprints

  Light-footed

  Deep set

  Amongst the weathered

  Environmental changes

  A compass direction

  Of the sun and stars

  Shrouded by moon and cloud

  And the prints lead towards

  Lost horizons

  Waiting on the edge of now

  Marking time with the lost image

  Of what we are meant to follow

  A spark of life

  A blur

  Smudged across the naked eye

  Espies a road less travelled

  A gate unhinged

  And a weary wanderer

  Ventures through.

  The Silent Word

  The night disturbed

  By a silent word

  ‘Get up before the morn’.

  The silent breath

  Upon my chest

  Whispers

  ‘Get up and face the dawn’.

  Words lifting me

  For me to see the day

  That was the night

  ‘Grasp the day

  In a different way

  Open vision to new insight’.

  The voice I heard

  That silent word

  From my self

  To urge me on

  From complacency

  From day to day

  To embrace now

  Before it’s gone.

  So much of now

  We chew

  And devour

  And neglect to taste life’s flavours

  Overwhelming days

  Has its way

  We shrink back in our cave

  To shelter us.

  Listening to that voice

  Of confidence and choice

  Self-supporting our willingness to explore

  A stepping-stone to adventures unknown

  Soothing and warming the human core.

  Degrees of Colour and Vision

  If I stopped my thought for a moment

  And watched the world go by

  Would the creativity re-boot its-self

  Or would simply seize up and die?

  Being a thinker and a watcher

  My senses deep to me

  Writing as I see it

  Would that change

  Though a wondering degree?

  90 degrees of vision

  Is not within my mind

  My view of life,

  Myself and the world

  Is more widely defined.

  I see the colours and their many hues

  Visions varied in greens and blues

  And when it comes to white and black

  It is that part of decision making

  From the colours back.

  So what would change

  If I emptied my mind

  Would my colours

  No longer I find?

  Just lying back

  Watching the world go by

  Would my degree of vision

  Ever die?

  So I challenge the idea

  And drift all day

  And at the end of it

  I find I have much to say.

  In quiet observation

  I soak in the views

  Of my black and white

  And colourful hues.

  With pen and paper

  I write of my quest

  And leave for you

  To fill in the rest.

  Human Resilience

  The striking of emotional

  Mental and psychological

  Manipulation

  Drags us to our knees

  Our resilience

  Self-preservation

  Strengths

  That we’ve not yet tapped into

  Rise and shield our core

  With our voice

  We shout within and out

  No more, no more, no more

  When basic rights

  Are violated

  Politics

  Policies

  Challenge our claims

  You rifle through the paperwork

  Protest

  Do you gain?

  You find the flaws

  Within the empty words

  And their antics

  Are not humane

  They drive you

  To the edge of madness

  But you know it’s just a game

  Take to the streets

  The papers

  Let your angst be shared

  Consolidate

  Self-empowerment

  Be seen

  Supported

  Be heard.

  The Meaning of Life

  The meaning of life

  Perched in a hand

  A grasping of essence

  Yet do we understand?

  The concept is

  In my belief

  To process life

  Through happiness

  And grief

  Yet there it is

  In front of us

  And we scoff at it

  In disgust

  Never satisfied

  With what we have got

  Wanting more

  Want the lot

  Simmering pot

  Of who we are

  Adding flavours

  Creating better?

  Change

  Choice

  Listening to ones own

  Voice.

  If I could be anyone

  I know who I would be

  The person

  Who shadows the person

  Who is me

  To project any other

  Is to reject who I am.

  If by chance

  You were given the choice

  Would you really

  Make a change

  Or be happy

  With how you

  Have been arranged.

  Holding my self to ransom

  Measuring my worth

  My value is much more

  Than anything on this earth.

  I am, I am, I am

  I am the mountain

  Standing still looking free

  I am silent without emotion

  But I can crumble at your touch

  I am the sky

  The colour blue is me

  Sometimes gray and tearful

  I make no thunder

  I am a tree

  I bear no fruit

  I sway back and forward

  And go nowhere

  I am a lake

  Stones are thrown upon my back

  I ripple, but remain calm

  I am the wind

  I can destroy

  I am unsettled br />
  Drifting

  I am the ice

  Cold and plain

  Your burning touch

  Melts me

  I am the moon

  Dark on one side

  Light on the other

  But never balanced

  I am the sun

  With searing heat

  Knowing one day

  I will burn out

  I am the star

  I look so close

  Yet I’m so far

  I 'm living

  Or I have lived

  I am the universe

  So complexed

  So misunderstood

  But I exist

  I am so many things

  Because

  I am, I am, I am.

 

 

  Jane E Libeau, I am, I am, I am. a Collection of Poems.

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