Never glory -stand before –
timeless hour of bravery.
Men clad not in kings-men clothing,
nor of peasant lore –
but sheathed within freedom’s spirit –
the robe of something more…
My prayers and solemn wishes for those poor souls trapped under the hateful eyes of ISIS, Christian or otherwise. May God bless you this night and forever.
Written/Produced Sammy Fain and Irving Kahall, 1938
Other Versions:
Billie Holiday Youtube
Rosemary Clooney Youtube
McGuire Sisters (Most Original I think)
Ray Charles Youtube
Michael Buble Youtube
Lyrics:
I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day and through
Did we ever say goodby?
Or did we just walk away?
Like nothing really matters
to our hearts anyway?
I’ll pretend if you’d like me too
Pretend that I just don’t feel the pain
But honey, I feel the same.
I’ll be walking down the street
just thinking about my feet
But not about you, no no
I suppose that’s the way it’s got to be
But every once in a while
I catch a glimpse of myself
alone, all alone, in the windowpane.
That’s when I think about you, again.
And I think…
Did we ever say goodby?
Or did we just walk away?
Like nothing really matters
to our hearts anyway?
If you need me to I’ll pretend
I don’t feel the pain
But darling, I do.
There’s just one thing
you gotta know my heart sings
yeah, ’cause I love you
Yes I do.
I love you.
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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The story goes a little like this
a young man goes out to find his sweet little miss
they fall in love baby, hug and kiss
come around, get married, have a few kids
But did you ever wonder where the time goes
did you ever wonder why we grow old
and were the skies as blue 40 years ago
Honey I don’t know
I just don’t know
Kids grow up, off to school
Momma plays daddy like a stupid fool
Marriage is dead, time is gone
So there you are mister
all alone
Just singing your songs
to all those little ones
Keep playing that hopscotch babies
keep having that fun
You got to play kick the can
as long as you can
’cause time’ll come round real soon
where you got to be a man
And did you ever wonder where the time goes
did you ever wonder why we grow old
and were the skies as blue 40 years ago
I don’t know baby
I just don’t know
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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That such love could find my path –
that of Delilah, or sweet Abraham’s Sarah –
Or queen of Nile to rest head on breast,
nesting in the sweet softness of her skin –
resting away in her scent of Heaven…
Dreaming of her full lips – so red
and glistening with dew of gods –
sweet nectar that I should long to taste…
and taste….
and taste….
Her vision of curves so enchanting –
her devotion to love so entrenching….
But what means have I –
such mortal man of treasures shy –
to hope for that of legend scape?
Desire she, Penelope – while
Ulysses out to sea –
Battling through axe and heart they –
her suitors of Ithaca plain…
Or should I wait to find dear muses –
Erato, of course my own…
Whispering my ears such beauty –
and breath divine –
that she, and only she,
ever be mine….
Or should it be –
absent that –
my muse of destined tragedy…
Sweet Melpomene to
hold my hand and soul –
yet wrest away my heart….
No, would not to thee be a pleasure born,
nor affinity for your most love adorn –
that your own beauty should sail
through my heart as the swiftest cutter –
its wake drifting apart from tales of old –
swathing our own, new legend of love’s lore!
For never in this world of books and pages –
nor old men’s tales – nor words of maids
has been alive such beauty as yours –
nor such lips that I feel to kiss them forever…
nor such sweet moans that barely escape them…
surely wishing to be inside you until ever as I.
So burn the fables – turn the tables –
Ulysses return to your own home!
For I have found love,
and our story is not yet written……
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Mussel boat arrive –
men clacking,
clacketing –
shells splashing the bay.
I run and run,
run away –
forfeit right to cool ocean air –
Gull wings splash the sun –
as blinding bits of angels –
their choking calls
like jungle drums –
beating into me –
choking my heart –
out of tune
confusing the metronome
of who I am today –
the man once known
by so few –
I run upon the broken shells
beaches littered like glassy hell.
Blood soaked sands of yesterday
seep into the blistered soles
of my weathered toes –
Like little foreigners
looking up at me –
their yellowing scarred
window panes – scratched
and ragged – catching –
raping time for what it is –
A death so certain –
where I lay
discarded china doll –
ceramic shards on shells –
long forgotten –
China dolls feel no pain.
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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by The Beatles
1963, John Lennon and Paul McCartney
This is my personal version of this tremendous song…
Oh yeah, I’ll tell you something
I think you’ll understand
When I’ll say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Oh please, say to me
You’ll let me be your man
And please, say to me
You’ll let me hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
And when I touch you I feel happy
Inside
It’s such a feeling that my love
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
Yeah, you’ve got that something
I think you’ll understand
When I’ll say that something
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna hold your hand
Life is sometimes so very confusing to me- I don’t know why we’re alive, or why God decided to put us in this life. Nobody really does. I just know I’ve been writing poetry all my life – and during all these many years i have avoided what most people would call “Love Poetry.” It’s a lie in my opinion-extraordinarily pretentious. Love and sex – or sexual attraction – are two different things. But I think every high school and college boy at some time has written a “Love” poem to attract the attention of someone who makes his heart go pitter-patter, as old Norman from the Movie On Golden Pond would have said. And you know I think that is so romantic. I love romance. But for some reason, and I don’t understand it myself – I just don’t write love poetry. Somehow it’s like I separate poetry – a mind’s art – from romantic love – which is more of the heart’s art – don’t you think?
And although I have never written a love poem – at least not since i was in my teens with hormones raging – I do write pieces like what you see below – like – with a tune playing in my head. So I put them down to music. I don’t know if that makes me a songwriter, any more than leaving my morning constitution in the bathroom makes me Picasso. But just like poetry – its what comes out of me – and because I’m human – because I have this insane desire to feel accredited in this insane life – which I don’t even understand – and I really would like to know what others think about some of these things that shake out of my brain – or heart. Which is why I post these occasionally with other great and talented artists on dversepoets.com. Tonight’s the night and I hope you enjoy this one…… You can listen to the song on the audio thingy above… The lyrics are below….
I only know one thing darling
if you want to have fun from the start
never lie, – never lie to your heart
no, no – never lie to your heart
don’t tell it to go away
no no no
Baby keep it around for a while
you can’t live without it
no no no
It’s what i found out
I was looking for you yesterday
I guess you packed your bags and went away
Yeah I know we were supposed to hit that road today
Driving those cars, hitting all the bars
But Albuquerque’s so far away
So darling, won’t you write me a letter some day
You brought our friends over one night
so we could all say goodbye
you know we were headed out that door
but you found me there in a corner with her
You remember her,
sweet little Veena
Honey you were my best friend
and you owned my soul
but I ain’t gonna lie
no I can’t lie to my heart,
no no no
Honey, dear Veena
she owns my heart
yes she does
she owns my heart
But you’re down in New Mexico now
and I know you’re having fun
all that wind and sand
and that auburn hair baby
Won’t you write me a letter
and in it won’t you say
You miss me too
won’t you say
you miss me too
cause love’s not about the heart
It’s about you
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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My Recent Shape Poem
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