There’s nothing Fixed that can’t be Broken
Praise Jove, for without them, the Broken
And all the Hope and Possibilities for which they allow
There is nothing Redeemed
There is nothing made New Again
Beam of Sun meet Fall of Rain
Alas, mourn not the absence of the Sol
Rejoice instead for the cool quenching of the Aqua
And the Unbounded Inactivity for which the Downpour allows
For it is that, the Inactivity
And the Idleness, the Nothingness it requires
And the Silence, the Stillness it provides
That allows for the Divinity of the Dreams
To Shine forth Anew
And Redeem the Soul
Did thine Savior truly say,
Blessed are those who do not doubt me,
Ere His mounting upon that skull-shaped hill?
If so, then needs must be to Him I pray
On a bended and shaky knee
Begging for Him to bless me, still.
For, while I have no doubt today
That the Son of God is He,
Tomorrow, without a doubt, I will.
Continue reading “Devolution, Baby”
Presentiment – is that long Shadow – on the Lawn –
Indicative that Suns go down –
The Notice to the startled Grass
That Darkness is about to pass –
*Admittedly, it’s highly unlikely that Ms. Dickinson while sitting alone upstairs staring out her pondering window penned this pensive poem about Daylight Saving Time; that being said, it’s time to throw open those curtains, spread sunshine on those foreboding winter-fouled floating dust mites of presentiments and drag those lagging Clocks for-ward and on-ward to-ward that Fresh Breath of presentiment-less and Carefree Air affectionately known as Spring, yo!**
**What’s with all the “yos” lately, yo?
the last is the first to know
that the first must needs be
the last to be let go
I may occasionally write the junk, but rarely do I read it.
And it is not because I don’t like it that I rarely read it…
It’s because it, the really good stuff anyway, is so durn hard to read.
I’m talking Poetry here…
Poetry with a big, bold capital P.
And it is so hard for me to read (And by read I mean read. I mean really digging into the poem and fighting through the initial confusion and the complicated and often archaic words. I mean, not just reading the poem, but studying it and trying to close the gap in time from when the poem was written to when the poem is being read by learning about the poet and where and when and why and how he or she is from and where and when and why and how he or she lived and then coming to my own understanding of what I think the poem means and then trying to apply that meaning to my own life and where and when and why and how I live it. That’s what I mean by read.) because it takes more than a little bit of effort to read it.
I certainly don’t have time for all that junk.
Continue reading “Poetry is for Girls”
This is a poem that isn’t
But probably it could
Even though it shouldn’t
And even if it were
It more than likely wouldn’t
Many of the haiku and other poems in Short Verses & Other Curses were written as a therapeutic balm in response to my cancer. I don’t know why or how I survived all that nonsense but I suspect writing the poems helped at least a little.
Recent events make it seem to me that my country is suffering such a life-threatening and cancerous disease so I was naturally drawn to some of the poems I wrote for the collection. To some degree they helped again, if only as a temporary distraction from present reality.
I doubt if these poems have any healing power potent enough for all the ills sickening my nation; however, it is out of love and desperation that I shall share them with you now.
For the next day or so, please feel free to download the collection. If any of the poems move you in any way, I ask that you share your thoughts here in the comment section. If you have any other poetry that you believe will help relieve a troubled soul, I ask that you also share those with us as well.
You may download the collection by clicking on its book cover.
Thank you to all who downloaded a copy of the book and especially to those who left me such kind, encouraging comments. They mean very much to me.
GLITTERS OF BLISS!
If the clouds could come & give me a ride
I would sit on them & sway away in delight
And ask them to take me in their cozy coat
Covering me all in the softness galore
Ask them to take me in the world up away
High up in the clouds where they say fairies stay.
As I reach there, I will learn a few skills to tap & whoosh & fulfill some wish
Wishes of all those who are in need.
Those wishes of cute eyes of kids crying for help.
The ones who are lost in war, with no one to help.
Those unanswered prayers of people with disease, the ones suffering & asking for relief.
Those hard to be fulfilled wishes & prayers with which are linked the needy’s care.
Wishes of such kind seems impossible in today’s time. There is so much going around in those with dirty minds,
Those who cause chaos & all the mess.
& are killing ruthlessly & causing much stress
I may sound kiddish to dream of fairyland & bring glitters of kindness with me in my hand
However it may sound, but I don’t mind
As long as I wish to bring some good in Mankind.
Often I wonder where does the “kind” go from man.
Maybe I’m thinking too much, what can I do, I’m a woman.
I was born to think,
That’s what many say.
Woman think a lot
They are made that way, and I think again, “Thank God that I think.”
It’s my thinking that makes me ponder, to be a better being.
Everyday I think & try to reach my soul.
today my thinking wants to take a tour
In the world of clouds, where they say Angels live.
With a hope to bring in my palm, some glitters of bliss
So I have few powers to whoosh away the pain
That causes chaos often unexplained.
To learn how to have your poetry or other work profiled here, visit the Relating to Humans