In a field depleted and left a fallow
Where only single crops have e’er grown
‘Twill sundry bloom soon rich, tho’ callow
When by Nature’s hand the seeds are sown
poems
A Poem Illicit by Cindy Knoke
The popular photographer and poet Cindy Knoke wrote us a poem in response to our ongoing flash fiction contest (which ends at midnight tonight so go vote for your favorite story!). Unfortunately, per the fine print of the contest rules, only flash fiction responses meeting the stated criteria will be accepted. All other responses are to be deleted. Yeah, I get down like that. However, reading Cindy’s poem felt to me like listening to a Tom Waits song and if anyone knows me they know I have a huge man crush on Tom. No way I could abandon her poem to a trash can death. So instead I share it here with you where it can shimmy and shake for all eternity as a special supplement to our weekly Sunday Song to Spark the Spirit and Summon the Moves of the Dance…
When Winds Turn Afoul
when winds turn afoul
when clouds amass in anger
when gloom turns the day
veer not from thy righteous path
lift thy chin and stay the way
#notetoself
Image courtesy of JOSHUA RYAN OF UNSPLASH.COM
Screwed
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.
#ofthejournals
Devolution, Baby
god’s creation
procreation
fornication
population
isolation
mass migration
and starvation
revelation
supplication
congregation
holy nation
manipulation
inquisition
forced conversion
Poetry Is My Balm
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.
Peace.
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.
The Poem of Me
The poem of me from yesterday Is not that which I am today In many ways they may resemble But don't be fooled by what I say Look closely at what you hear Listen with more than just an ear The poem of me from yesterday Is not that which I am today You think that you may know me By the words I rhyme and sing You think that you may know me But of me you know not a thing The poem of me I once sang for you Then may have had lyrics true But with each new day the words decay And of that me from then -- I bade adieu
❅ ❅ ❅ ❅
POEMS FROM THE RIVER
Holdin’ Toes
Holdin’ hands is supposed to be special,
But really, anyone can do it.
Just grab a hand and don’t let go,
That’s all there really is to it.
But my way of holdin’ is a little bit different.
In fact, I’m sure no one else even knows…
Just take off your shoes, and then your socks,
Cuz my way is holdin’ toes.
From Poem Man
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