The Storyteller – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

Tell me a story
Storyteller to my soul
Tell me a tale
One full of mystery and angst
One with love and intrigue
Tell me a story

Be still
Feel no ill will
Be my pain, without using a knife
Heal with only the natural herbs of the Earth

Speak to me
Be my voice

Steal the airwaves
Record my thoughts and play them for the world to see

We listen together as one
Enthralled by every word
Octave high
Octave low

A little bit of sorrow
A little bit of happiness
An archive of the moments that complete the journey

This gift you possess
A visual oration to cleanse the confusion that lies within all of us
A wonder amongst the ordinary
A splendid rainbow high above the storm

Hear your lips pamper us with every line
A verse so full of truth
A page written out with brush and paint
A chapter so clear
Transparent to its own emotions

Tell us a story
Oh, wise keeper of the pen
Bestow a lasting image for us to pass down to the next

Let this be your message
For life does not end with the last breath, but carries an eternal torch to be handed down
In the distance a new set of ears, awaits the storyteller

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My Opus – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

My Opus – Original Poem

I know what’s it’s like to be forgotten
The invitation to God’s soiree lost in the mail
Used to having you by my side
A fleeting fantasy boxed up in the corner of my dark past
Now the mountains to comfort my wounded pride and hide the sunlight

One more chance to turnaround
A second chance to try again
This withering soul has life to give
A heart still beating, faintly in the distance

All those sleepless nights remembering the Summer we thought would never end
Fireworks over the harbor
Beach walks under the moonlight
I’d die for just one more kiss
Love letters I wrote each time you went away, never sent; never read

Do you need some time all alone, I asked
You smiled and said, “we all need some time on our own” as you walked further away
A distant shadow

Why impulses drive that soul?
What needs feed the thirst?

To discover the secret of the mountains
The path of the oceans
The hauntingly beautiful message in the wind
The word of the poets
The undiscovered lands of voyagers

I understood
I followed
I got lost

I see a clearing now
A path home

I prayed under those stars that someday I would find my way back to you
Soon
Soon
It will all be revealed

My Angel By the Sea – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

Dancing in the dark
Barefoot in the sand
The Milky Way, our universal disco ball
Listening to our favorite song in the distance

Sliding across God’s dance floor
Ocean tickling our toes

A perfect partner
My sexy doctor with a prescription for this sexual healing

In love, I long to be, tasting your sweet misery
These weary legs re-born
No longer enslaved to the chains of thousands of miles of empty road
Without a home no more
Together we will be

Dancing in the dark under the glow of the moonlight

Twinkle, twinkle little star
Upon this night I wish to thee
Protect her always I will be
My angel by the sea

 

Billions of Beautiful Hearts – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

The universe is filled with billions of beautiful hearts
Colliding in an illuminating explosion so bright
Under this sky of eternal cinematic bliss, it is only you and I

Counting the stars, falling far and wide
This night, this time, a moment shared for all time

A kiss frozen forever
Etched in the mortal lips
Surrounded by God
Preserved by an angel’s witness

This is the story we will tell
The story that will be passed down the generations
With new beginnings, new endings and everything in between
From stone to pen to words off the lips of strangers, our story will live on

But all around toxins fill the air
Exploited by the masses
Blood clots scaring the porcelain skin

Wounded in love
Wounded in hatred
Wounded by the sounds of silent protestors vanished

A vision in the darkness
A voice in the silence
An echo of the mistakes that continue to poison

Where has it gone
The playfulness of a little boy’s imagination
The castle of a young princess below a sky of rainbows

Bleakness
Poetry dismissed by the torture of graffiti filling the tunnels leading us from the light

In your eyes, I see the sunshine rising
I see a future, I want to share with the world
Take my hand
Hold it tight
Feel this pulse trickle to goosebumps
Let us be the awakening

My Hometown – Hopatcong (Ode to Childhood)

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou

During our lives there are some things we get comfortable with almost to the point of taking advantage of them. It is this comfort that we benchmark our lives against and always find a sense of ease and safety with each passing day. No matter how far away we go, home is always there for us. It never leaves us, cheats on us or turns its back to us.

It’s allegiance and loyalty is without question and the sense you feel as you close you eyes, feel its touch, breath in its smell and see every memory race through your head is priceless. It is the warmth and coziness of home that continuously reminds me who I am and how I became the person I am today.

hopEvery time I return home, I see something new. Though nothing changes, it is always different yet still the same feeling I had as a child.

The comfort of the hometown deli, the sound of grasshoppers at night, the safety of living in a town where you never lock your doors at night, the sight of a million stars at the top of the golf course, the spirit of the Chiefs, basketball at Modick, soccer all around, the summers at the lake, remembrance of those we lost, patriotism, the comfort of the Old River Styx Bridge, rolling hills and the feeling of home.

This is my ode to Hopatcong, the safe haven that bore me and raised it. It is a town with a quiet rich heritage that continues to shine.

Its the parks, the diners, the locals, the morning dew, the local sports, the children and the air that we breath that makes home the only place you will ever know.

Be free, see the world and experience the magic and wonder of different cultures and different great natural wonders but never forget where you are from. It is and will always remained ingrained inside you.

Home is always safe in your heart!

“When you finally go back to your old hometown, you find it wasn’t the old home you missed but your childhood” – Sam Ewing

“No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place picture-048like home.” – L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

“Home is the place, where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” – Robert Frost

“I’m laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone,
Going home, where the new york city winters aren’t bleedin’ me.” – Paul Simon, The Boxer

“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.” – Christian Morganstern

“A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.” – Unknown

“Home should be an oratorio of the memory, singing to all our after life melodies and harmonies of old remembered joy.” – Henry Ward Beecher

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The Pain is Over – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

The obituary is but a solemn set of words for the living
For the subject is without pain, without existence; no more
A recollection of a time when life had meaning, until the end

No romanticism in the end
Just a final breath and it all resets to zero with the promise of an infinite home
A silly contraction to some
A golden calf of faith to others

Memories disappear in a digital wasteland
Pictures fade into the corners of attics
Videos are reserved for special days to reflect over wine and sorrow
A lifetime immortalized in footsteps from up above until the footsteps are no more

I am without pain now
You still hear me in your past
A few fleeting leaves dropping from the sky
A butterfly carrying my spirit
A poem about just you and I
A promise in a letter; one that could only be made by the youngest of hearts
A journey we hoped to share
A legacy…a pause

Winter has arrived in its cold and damp darkness
Try to hear me in the wind
A calming thought, I imagine, if my imagination endured

I want to see you shivering
To feel you once again
To assure you there is something
I do, I really do
Alone, you curl in the corner of the couch
Last flame flickering

When you read this, what do you remember of me?
What thought of us tortures your mind?
It is pleasant, romantic, sad, uplifting or simply safe?

Tell a story for yourself, or a new generation
Carry this on as long as you can
Soon your pain will be over

My pain is over
All that is left behind are millions of silent screams looking for answers

This Town Ain’t What It Used To Be – Original Poem

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By Mark A. Leon

Bright lights, big stars
This town ain’t what it used to be
Empty streets, filled with dreams, wasted for another day
Creativity spilled from the cup of this love
Washed away with the dawn of another day

I found you; you saved me
I knew this time would end
Never thought I could feel this way again

Rutting away, corrupt to the core
Strange faces fill the air
Surrounded, crowded, fear everywhere
The pavement filled with lust
Forgotten just who to trust

Chasing down a past left behind
Shadows of you; memories so fine
This used to be our time

Borrowed, precious and free
All that was needed was you and me
With your scent in the air, and face touching mine

Bright lights, big stars
Under this Southern sky, we kissed
Now it’s all closing in, the walls, the bars
Crushed by the constant thought of your love sorely missed

Sounds of cars; blindness of light
Deafening my sight

Beaches dimmed by the fading fire
Darkness sets the mood for the cinematic dream

Fade in
Flashback to a town I used to know
To the girl that made me glow

Bright lights, big stars
This town ain’t what it used to be