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Mary Bliss

of

Lincoln, NE, US

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A Poet's View

by

Mary Bliss

A life without food,
without shelter, a life
without love, a life
lived in the pouring
rain is nothing beside
a life without poetry.

My poems, my little notes
may seem dull and weak.
Maybe soon as I'm dead they'll
reach their peak.

Poems that take life's little
whim's and puts them to good
use even if the vision seems
awkwardly dim. Poems of love
filled to the brims.

At last my poems serve me well.
Poems that tell a tale of where
lonely hearts dwell. With these
poems only hardened time will tell.

Poems of peace march on our hearts
and minds. Poems of freedom free us
from our binds. Poems of peace, freedom
and love, poems of all kinds.

These poems do well abide. These
poems have nothing to hide. One day
these poems may visit a restless soul
on the other side.


The Emotion

by

Mary Bliss

The emotion I struggle with and
cannot write. This emotion of tiny
might. I will always remember that
crazed thunderous night. The rain and
thunder and all it's horrible fright.

The emotion lets me take a deep
breath and wait. This emotion
cannot turn into blinded hate.
What will become of this emotion
and it's fate?

The emotion finally brings such
wanted relief. Afterall it may
only be a simple imaginary belief.

The Kind Officer

by

Mary Bliss

The kind officer takes one by the
hand and says "Someday they will
all understand." The kind officer
says "You'll be alright for now."
He does not wonder how.

The kind officer so strong and young.
He is humble with those he's among.

The kind officer is one's only true
friend. His life need not come to an
early end.

The kind officer takes care of the
frail and weak. He seems so shy and
lives so meek. He puts in a very
exhausting week.

The kind officer witnesses so many
manners change. He sees everything
from the sick to the mentally deranged.

The kind officer one cannot thank enough.
He knows that justice can be so tough.
The kind officer is so well aware of
the world being so rough.

The Lost Kennedy

by

Mary Bliss

The lost Kennedy relative I miss having
you around. I admired the friendship
the two of us finally found. You always
teased me about being halfway deaf and
not able to hear a sound. I often think
of you when I'm out walking the campus
ground.

The lost Kennedy relative I remember the
funny stories you would always tell.
I miss the nites we had together with food
and fun now leaves my lonely heart to dwell.

The lost Kennedy relative I used to sit
with beside the bed. I won't forget the
funny things you'd said.

The lost Kennedy relative how you became
such a great friend. I hope the troubles
you had with your family quickly mend.

The lost Kennedy relative I have no idea
these days how you've been. You used to
come by so often. You used to tell me all
about your Kennedy kin.

The lost Kennedy relative last I knew
you were pumping gas. Hopefully one
day our lives will again someday pass.
Afterall you had such great Kennedy class.

Blissful Books

by

Mary Bliss

If I only had a little bookstore
I'd simply call it Blissful Books.
It would be a quiet cozy little nook.

People could come from all around
and be amazed at the blissful books
they had found.

At Blissful Books there would be
a cozy place to sit and on cold
nights there would be a fire lit.

Blissful Books would have newspapers
on sale while people could pick out
their favorite classic tale.

Blissful Books may not stand a chance.
If only I had a change in my financial
circumstance.

People could go there and have coffee
and treats. Blissful Books would be a
healthy retreat. Hopefully the patronage
would repeat.

Blissful Books may exsist one day.
I just don't know how much I'd have
to pay. Hopefully you'll find Blissful
Books someday. Please go and visit
they may already have a fire lit.

The Quiescent World

by

Mary Bliss

This world of silence smooth
and tranquil takes form in my
darkest soul. The quiescent
world resting in the shimmering
light shone on the forbidden mind's eye.

The silent world I wake and
walk through keeping my stride
slight and moving never ending.
Shunned in a world of quiet
demands.

Peace be on my unruly conscience.
Prisms dance and spiral in whirls
upon the braken so heavy in my
heart. Clinging to my heart so
full of everyday trife and keep
the purest of faith beside and within.

Faded Space

by

Mary Bliss

The universe huge in it's splendorous
quiet fields of stars. Spiraling down
to the delusional green eyed expression.

This faded space beneath this tangled
unconscient abundant dreams. Pulling
pushing towards a burning flaming nexus.

Bright in mystic clouds and turning to
see the voice that spoke with me shines
and walks with a soft spoken celeste of
awaiting avenging angels.

The faded space a celestial corner of
an enduring, delusional, sympathetic
mind. Finds peace above the cloudless
darkened unihibited nights.

Allow this blind eye to see the
quiet stars swirling tumbling past
with tails and trails of whispered
light. Carry with it this shadow
of twisted, demented, elusive soul.

This time outside the body of
clandestine light finds me as well
as you. Prepares a retreat among
fields of quiet stars infinite.
The voice lives within it's nexus
capturing timeless, wounded, broken
souls.

Poet's Confessions

by

Mary Bliss

The great men running in great coats
flapping like bats flounder and plunder
into the night. Carrying orange ovals
of light swaying awkwardly from side to
side.

They look in sheer wonder for the
hidden mysterious poet. As he lay
flourishing above nestled in a barren
roofbeam nook.

Cloaked as florid as the winter's
past. Sincere and inexorable with
his infallible confessions.

Trustworty are his words indurate
and too ineffable. Notoriously
he lays his confessions before
the orange ovals of light.

The men surrrounding him listening
with indignant pride take heed.
Indigently the poet bleeds his
crimson confessions.

Love's Phosphorescence

by

Mary Bliss

As I become love's picador fighting
in the phosphorescence of my true
submissive desires. The phraseology
I use to discover opens a photoshpere
enveloping my mind's blinded eyes.

The photoshpere brightly shining it's
way across the stratisphere of my turbulant
emotions. This phrenic mind warped by
life's grand fragrant experience.

The picador I become luring and
captivating the intertwined photosphere's
of an intriqued, mannered heart. Capturing
the poignant, stagnant, love's lost and
found.

This loving, fighting, wanton picador
bows before the phosphorescent crowds
and dances swirling in the weathered
petals.

This piqued picador lies down submissive
to love's phosphorescence.

Hail to the Chief

by

Mary Bliss

As I remember our trip from Lincoln
to Omaha on a frozen winter's day.
Hashing over the excitement over what
the President would say. All bundled up
on a frozen winter's day.

When we arrived at the Air Base we
were led onto the big school bus. It
kept and carried all of us. The more
the excitement grew the more we'd fuss.
Wondering all the while what the President
would discuss.

Pulling up to the big, warm, heated tents
we were greeted by all the military gents.
All were patted down and searched as we
made our way through, asking the secret
service, Now what do we do?

The secret service man whispers and says,
"Hey I like your coat." He hands me a little
flag I take with my mitten and I become somewhat
smitten. He moved us along less than fifty
feet away. This was my first time to see the
President on this frozen winter's day.

Everyone in their coats, hats and gloves
waving as they played Hail to the Chief.
The President appeared and made his statements
brief. On a frozen winter's day it was quite
a relief.

Then President Clinton proudly said with
mists of air beneath his breath, "It may be a
cold day in Nebraska, but you gave me a warm
welcome." We all clapped and shouted no longer
feeling lonesome.

Hopefully, President Clinton will come back
to us and visit with a nice warm fire lit.
I only hope so much that I'm a part of it.

Lonely Pauper

by

Mary Bliss

The lonely pauper passes by the patronizing
crowds and sets off admist the streets to
find her lonely place among the urban sprawl.

Visiting those at the cyber soup kitchen
grateful to God for a hot meal and carries
home possible left overs with her, grateful
for her meal and comfort. Knowing others are
in far greater need than she is.

The lonely pauper comes home to realize
the blessings she has with a home, food and
clothing, that she opens her door to friends,
who also feel as though they too, are lonely
paupers.

The lonely paupers gather around the television
staying atuned to all the world's recent crisis,
realizing and grateful for the blessings we have,
wondering will it ever be like it was before?
Knowing that change has come forever, except for
the lonely pauper.

Ballet and Shoes

by

Mary Bliss


I felt so humble buying my ballet shoes
for the first time. I had waited most my
life to take ballet and learn the dance.
When I was younger I didn't get that chance.

The ballet I missed then I am making up
for now. Learning all the positions and
learning to gracefully bow. Practicing
everyday and remembering how.

I'll take ballet with me from this day
on. I miss my ballet teacher when she is
gone. I love my ballet slippers and take
great care each time I slip them on.

Each day I'm in ballet facing the mirror or
standing beside the bar with no care in the world.
Doing our eight steps and turning away from the
bar and twirled. Not a care in the world each
time we swirled.

My ballet shoes so soft and pink give
me much reflection and plenty of time
to think. My ballet teacher clapping
and letting us know we did a great job
and we didn't stink.

Poem of Predilection

by

Mary Bliss

I'll see for myself if a deserving
wanton soul finds the fumbling pourings
of my heart is to thier liking or disliking.
Hopefully, I have surpassed their time
and it is well spent among these misguided
words.

My muted destiny is predestine on a course
with this domestic capsule we call life.
Swallowing hard this harshness forever
suspended solely in the middle.

Finding truth in the rule of moral conduct
being a precept to oneself while drinking in
the domestic capsule. Heading towards a
fiery predestination carrying with it this
deluded, evasive, granite vine of a mind.

Glasnost of My Heart

by

Mary Bliss

As I sit pouring out my darkest soul
in a fumbled masquerade of words I
pray someone finds my words provoking
and I may exasperate my reader.

My heart cradled in these words
soflty, celeste with comfort and
kindness. The following glasnost
of my heart pouring over my deluded
domestic life.

One day wishing the glasnost of my heart
is captured forever on a fallen star to
be whisped away deep into space and time
infinite.

It takes with it this unconscient peace of
delusional green eyed wide expression folding
and twisting endlessly clinging to the glasnost
of my heart's lingering phosphorescent tender
love.

Leaving behind this fumbled masquerade hidden
behind the glasnost of my heart to be recieved
with a blissful earthly scent of life's bountiful
precious timeless gifts.

The openess of my heart, in public and on trial
in this masquerade of fumbled words. Letting
peace ride on the tails of fallen stars taking
it to it's destination among the glasnost of my
wounded heart.

The Execution

by

Mary Bliss

I remember execution day and all the people
in the crowds with their signs saying, "Abolish
the Death Penalty!" Didn't they know my child
molester molested me? The three of us children
waited 18 years so patiently. I don't know
what's to become of me.

He was in prison for so long and there
were so many people deciding which was
right and which was wrong.

Even though he remembered all the abusive
things he did to me, now since he's been
executed he is finally free. Still I do
not know what's to become of me.

They say he was a changed man in so many
ways. He was in prison for so long with
so many stays. All the while I chose to
just stay away. I will wonder if change
will ever come my way?

Now that it's over I must move on.
Somehow that seems so hard for me with
everyone gone.

Now it seems things have changed forever
maybe by now the death penalty signs
will become so much more clever. It's
all still hard to really remember.

The Drive-By

by

Mary Bliss

The drive-by shooting that happened near my place
when it happened the shooters gave chase. The news
asked me about it I gave it a frightened face. With
what the police found left behind they will skillfully
trace. A drive-by shooting is such a disgrace.

The woman they shot at is surviving and doing
alright. She was just lounging on her porch
not that late at nite. I hope the police can
find the shooters without a gunfight. I still won't
carry my own gun or weapon I just feel it just
isn't right.

Maybe one day these senseless acts will end.
I hope my neighborhood is able to mend.

My Love

by

Mary Bliss

My love for the Lincoln Police runs deep.
I know they work hard even while I sleep.

Their honesty towards me they honestly share.
They've always treated me pretty fair.
There are no words to compare.

My love for them is there for everyone to witness.
Knowing them fills my heart with happiness.
They've been such good friends it leaves my love
endless.