God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…
who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again
A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this alletrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevaient from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths, roles and qualities
of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s
Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope
My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans
Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure
Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir
Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile
Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame
The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees
(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace". I hope that it does not insult
Confetti flutters the sky
A bride dressed in pearly white
Footprints pave bright virgin snow
Steps to her future
One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last,
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above -
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
There is a pulse.
One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them,
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
There is a pulse.
One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
There is a pulse.
Fifteen tiny swallows
Fifteen tiny swallows
All perched upon a fence
Oh what handsome fellows
But here, let me commence
To speak of all their beauty
These tiny little birds
All black and cream with a reddish throat
Oh how my heart they stirred
A lady walking with her dog
Disturbed these little guys
So from the fence these birds take wing
And head towards the skies
It seems that they are dancing
In the way they fly around
They always seem to fly in circles
And nearly touch the ground.
I walk around these wetlands
And wonder at it all
Everyday it’s something else
And it’s all so beautiful
Ducks and swallows, parrots too
And the beauty of the lake
I love to walk there most of all
At the coming of the daybreak.
16 August 2013 @ 1510hrs.
Extraordinary, I am
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart
Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail
Miracles are as real as bone and flesh,
Our small world is full of the unexplained,
In waters cold and with each hopeful breath,
I prayed for a child with words unrestrained,
Kneeling to waves till their tows were ingrained.
The sky sympathized with burdened, dark clouds,
My longings were told to rough winds, out loud,
Your will be done, God, but I’ve love to give,
This servant bows low, no longer too proud,
To humbly ask that my dream at last live.
ABOUT THIS POEM
This is completely true. After sixteen years of infertility, I ‘heard’ a voice deep inside say, “It is time.” I immediately booked a vacation for myself and my husband to Port Elgin, Ontario. It was September, and Lake Huron was cold. People no longer swam. It was a week of rain and storms. Each day I would get up, walk to the beach and swim, as locals wearing raingear would walk their dogs on the boardwalk and shake their heads at me. Each morning, I’d swim and talk to God. I’d pray to Him, tell Him I had heard Him, and that I was ready to be a mom and that if it was His will, I would be the best mother I could be. I returned home and when I took my pregnancy test two weeks later, it said positive. The picture above is NOT mine, but mirrors what greeted me each day and where I rolled with the waves and felt God’s presence. I told my husband, even before we got there, we would be making a baby. I was that certain. After sixteen years, I still believed. This truth I must speak. I am beholden to my Maker who gifted me with a precious girl. AMEN!
I sit here in the park amidst a carpet of green speckled with buttercups and daisies
A pale blue sky above ceilings my room as I close my eyes
as I open my ears to the Summer sounds surrounding me
Buzzing encircles me as bumble bees in picnic mode
collect the rich nectar from the sporadic yellows and whites
To my left in the distance I hear the distinct sound of children playing in the parks
Shriek's that would cut glass are consumed by the vast expanse
Water splashing resonates through the air as if carried on the Summer breeze
Chimes appear from the distance as a frenzy of screams shout
Mam, dad it's the ice cream van
Suddenly a quietness descends as I picture children and adults
licking their ice cream nectar like thirsty hungry bees
To my right I hear the distinctive grunts of my daughter and her friend
emulating Flushing Meadow on the local tennis courts
The odd yell of congratulations from watching spectators breaks the scene
As I turn my head again in radar like fashion I zoom in on the aviary where gorgeous
budgies are kept
I can picture their greens, yellows and blues through my closed eyelids
This little community chirp endlessly as they flutter in organised commotion
Delights of aw echo across the flower beds as they are absorbed in my
Modern man interrupts this tranquil scene as metal birds noisily
roar overhead whilst bodied engines reverberate reminding us of the mechanical
world we live in
My own little world this Summers afternoon comes to an end as my daughter and her
friend return with vociferous tones
I open my eyes as normality returns
We gather our belongings as we head of home listening to the cacophony of modernism
The trees of the Lord
Full of sap and evergreen
Planted by waters,
Spreading out their roots
Even when drought comes with heat,
Still, will yield their fruit.
OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21
ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME
AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER
FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT
SOON IT WAS TIME FOR PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE
OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS
IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL
AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP
THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH
THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.
THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT
YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM
SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL
TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-
(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)
< amidst flocked needles ...
woven ornament strewn ...
a star is ... born
How may I describe the enchanting bride?
As my raven haired beautiful child who
has matured into a lovely young woman;
exuding charm and grace and the
sensibilities of a care giver yearning to please,
even the strangers she meets.
Her spirited nature makes her dark eyes sparkle
like the sea she works near; her moods are
mostly calm and reliable as the tides,
except for an occasional storm that may
suddenly appear leaving one drenched
by a cloud burst from a foreboding sky. . .
which quickly moves on with the swiftness
of an ambiguous March wind.
Her poetic personality affords her the ability
to pen her whimsical nature and fascination with
fairies with which she feels a vibrant connection.
Her love for her cat speaks well of a non-verbal
communication they both are content to share. . .
A way in which she also silently communicates
with her beloved husband to be, the handsome groom.
Here is a fine young man with exuberance and
a dashing personality that shines so brightly,
one needs to don sunglasses while in his presence.
His spirit of fun and laughter brings out the best in his
future bride, leaving little doubt they belong together.
He is on a positive path of intended growth he joyfully
embraces, ignoring the poor economy that might be daunting
to a less positive person whose dreams have no limit.
He is a man who appreciates the inner beauty of my
daughter as much as her outer beauty, thus he truly
understands her and her humbleness, they both possess.
A connection of great intellect, tender hearts with a generous
love for humanity would be the best way describe them both.
Both love to hike in nature and explore little known places.
Their ultimate goal would be to share their love with a child.
A happy couple indeed, on the verge of matrimony
in sharing a life filled with adventure and contentment.
May God Bless you both on your journey through life.
Note* My youngest, Michelle, will be married this Oct. 5th
to her sweet fiancé’ Daniel.
For “Epithalamium Contest by Dr. Ram Mehta”
As she stopped atop the terraced stairs
her tiny ,yet sensual figure .seemed to take on a glow
This beautiful woman, daughter of mine
Was shining ,like a glistening gemstone of varying hues
And all living things around her seemed to stop their daily chores
And breath in her angelic beauty.
She stood radiant in her snow-white glory. unaware of her glow
Her long gauzy veil moved gently , ever so slightly
As a breeze passed and uttered a sigh of admiration.
The sun beamed down warmly as the puffy clouds paused .
This was her day and all of nature stood enchanted
As she seemingly floated down each step with natural grace
All breathing seemed to stop , waiting for her entrance to complete
her smile, so radiant with love and delight, emitting her innate beauty
And the luminescent waters mirrored her beauty in natures surroundings.
She walked in beauty , harmonious with nature on that day
And all the Angels in the heavens stood enthralled, whispering softly
As she floated along the green of Summer's carpet
And the flowery petals opened wider to catch the colors of her beauty
And watch Christine, the most elegant of flowers , on her ceremonial day.
I do not know?
Special relationships are developed and strengthened over the years;
And those relationships reveal an obligation to fulfil when wisdom begins to knock during the tweens;
Oh what a shame, a shock, an ocean of tears brews like fresh coffee;
The aroma of unpleasant emotions desires to embrace the tide of positivity;
Hours of analyzing, wondering, weeping, twisting and turning;
The ray of hope from within crawls assuring that day would come where love, respect, and a big hug would return.
Every move, every thought, and every gesture seems deceiving from someone else’s perspective;
The battle to speak up or atleast share some distasteful sentiments to a near one were uneasy;
Every feeling seems cripple and a handicap;
Craving the desire of the kiss of sympathy, empathy, and aspiration became phony;
Determination, and the ambition to do it or make it right never faded;
Thus, the struggle to attain security from within first was the initial step.
A new day brought about a new learning that the power and natural sensation of maternal affiliation seemed insensitive, competitive, selfish, and unfair;
The joy and contentment of holding the baby in one’s arms was blurry and forgotten;
The result of feeling complete as a woman did not ring a bell nor the gratitude toward the Supreme power was acknowledged;
But, the cultivation of a new battle was instigated without notice;
The innocent tween was struggling with mind games with the assertive adult;
It was like a black magic being done when many things simply backfired.
Over the years, the achievements, praise, support, and love from people whom one would least expect from was given without any doubt;
Slowly trying to accept the fact that not everyone’s maternal relationship is normal or even a bed of roses;
However, the lucky ones receive a bundle of appraises, moral support, advice, a kiss on the cheek to show they matter;
The juggle between maternal and material relationship will be a long and awaited answer;
Till the last breath, the concerns over material possessions and security will be anyone’s concern because it is never easy to be happy with what you have knowing what you have may be distressful;
The weight of material and maternal affiliations still arises many questions, unwanted moments, and of course a salute to cherished occasions that anyone has undergone.
a trumpet sounds
but refuses to blare
it just doesn't know
how to harm
what it takes
to infect the living
out last the past
bond brothers and sisters
as it loses
to a force
because the vibration knows god
and is ONE
and though human imperfections
sit in the shadows of it's path
and forever will
we choose to destroy
but how can we concentrate
on methods of malcontent
when god sits at our breakfast table?
as father urges child
"stand on two feet!"
he tolls the bell
as we lay on deaf ears
he loosens ties with anger
as the path warns and wears
driving this cosmic ship
of no loses
and he smiles
for he knows
what we yet
have to find...
and all is well.
Age of purity and innocence,
this time of change
meets a blooming maturity
Fulfilling form, stylising figure;
nature produces fine specimen
A time to play with hair and fashion
To perfect beauty,
applying make-up and perfumes
Bringing forth fresh radiance
Changing mood and attitude
A young lady, pleasing to the eye
stands before mankind
A budding beauty
ready to take on new life style
To seek, settle, nurture,
or give her all to career
Go-getter or jet-setter
her presence is felt near
Love is as love does
Peace begets peace; happy day
Hot, dry summer's day
Finally comes to an end
All the tree frogs come to play
Signaling a storm_my friend
The child screams out the window
Shut-up frog in the shadow
Inspired by: Suzette Crous
Contest: A Grook For All Occasions
What shall I say to her?
What if she knows?
Can she tell that I carry another soul?
As I wonder what would I tell mom...
All these thoughts paced through my head,
I should have NEVER laid in his bed...
Sweet nothings was ALL that he said...
He got what he wanted, then left, just fled...
I was weak a young victim a surely misled...
When I confessed to my mother,
That I had slept with my lover,
And in a few months she'd be a grandmother...
Her face turned cherry red, yet words where still unsaid...
Days turned into months,
My belly stuck out further in front...
Finally we spoke today,
She said "When is he due?"
I replied "This May the 8th."
She said "She loves me!"
That was it, nothing else to say but "I love you too mom, in a special way!"
For it will be a blessed Mothers Day...
My Statistic: Life is challenging enough, it tends to be even
Harder for adolescence because they don't
Know as much as they think they
Know in actuality they don't. But mistakes and accidents are
Apart of life.... You live and you learn...
What can I render to the Lord for all His gifts to me
He who took MY SINS
His abounding Mercy
His fathomless love
His total commitment to my salvation
To my wholeness
To my welfare
To my emotional stability
To giving me eternal life
He gave a pure white robe to cover me with HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS
Because of Jesus-I now know Him as an adoring Father.
A Brother who will always walk so close I feel His presence and who always watches over me.
A mother whose words and affections surround me daily with care like a Mother hen
What can I render to the Lord who took my pain
Who in His own body was wounded and bore the sorrows and my grief I was to going through and the mistakes and the sin ready at every moment to try and trick me out through my life-time-
He sent His WORD- His LIGHT to enlighten my darkness and show me clearly the road I should take-(Proverbs: chapters 1to 9)
Yes YOU were always ready to defend me, a helpless orphan- for without YOU as my Dad and as my mother- I was abandoned to this world-
But Now I can cry with all my heart- ABBA FATHER I love you - But YOU say
LOVE Y MORE
What can I render to the LORD- MY God- whose precious pure blood was spilt to bear the sins of all our humanity- I will take ‘the cup’ of Your salvation and honor your name with my life- For only your pure blood is worthy to pay for all sin-I will confess your name before the world for which you died to save -and I will call upon your HOLY name - for your name alone is WORTHY- JESUS.
© Brenda V Northeast 28th January 2012
Paradise is a Baobab in Africa
where milk and honey flow beneath red -
I find her in clay, sun-baked, wearing
roots from the sacred tree:
the final piece of the jigsaw.
I love my Mousey,
She lives in a field in BrushCreek, Tennessee,
Walking with her her of cattle,
As happy as she will ever be.
Without this there would be only she,
And i could make her as happy as me,
I miss her immensly, for thee i wish well,
For everyday i wish she wont sell,
And I could show her in the Dekalb County Fair,
I would sell never an ounce of her.
Hehe not even one of her little white hairs.
Even when all the way over there,
Mine she is for no one but me to share, if I do so happen to dare.
Cute as a button,
A button her nose may well be,
Where I first touched her sweet little body,
Not once but twice sweetly,
For wherever she goes I could spot her, along with her sister and mother.
Many a mile away, for she is not at all,
Not at all what you would say a little grayish thing.
But a heifer who grows daily,
Only to shove the motherly tears away.
In my eyes though, she will always be, forever and always, my baby girl, my sweetie,
my beautiful girl, my Mousey
I do not know?
Fogive me Mother, I have not forgotten your grace,
That saved me with your celestial light from the dark,
I still stand ready to walk one day in your place,
Still ready for the training I will need before this path I embark,
The rain still decends and with the worlds tears, it cleanses my soul,
I pray for it to come, chant to you my song, and wonder why it will not fall,
The earth still shares with me, and I learn from all that it knows,
If only dearest Goddess you would listen to my calls,
Dearest mother, after which I am named, do not take from me your gifts,
The war readys near and you have not time enough, to find a new leader for us,
I still walk your path as your namesake, Ma'mam I swear, I have not forgotten this,
Without your guidence I am lost and in distress,
Show me forgiveness, oh my dearest Mother that I bless...
Forgive me my father, I have not forgotten your warmth,
That gave me life, through your brilliant light,
And saved me from the dead, cold dark,
I still stand ready, as your child warrior of white,
The wind still whispers to me ancient tales,
I pray for the dreams and yet I cannot tell why they wont retain,
The fire still burns bright within the sky, and I follow its ember trails,
Dearest God, without your guidence I will fall in pain,
Oh Father, do not steal your visions from me,
Without them I cannot see, and my Guides and I cannot talk and agree,
We send to thee, oh Father, an offering of sweet petal potpourri,
Do not revoke me for I am one of those chosen three,
Show me forgiveness, oh my dearest Father, and I shall act as your emcee...
Modernisation is hopping her repercussion
Modernisation is driving her civilisation
This is the safari; that brain the colony
The colossal obnoxious tenets of the West
Calling her to the deluding evacuation.
The edifice her architect had strictly structured
Who can dare to alter it?
Even on her own body and soul.
Variety upon variety, she want to put on
That is her whisper why, she mime the day.
A Bimbo! Mimicking the mockery of the West.
Who is barbaric in this case?
Reason! She revolt the reasoning
Focus! She resist the purpose
Loyal! She refuse the modesty.
Let her believe this one
That in her friction state
Her forward (will) never; her backward (will) ever.
Perhaps, she should recall this one
She need to behold
If she must to recount, in her world.
I am the sunrise and sunset weaving turquoise into grey.
I do not know?
OMG the smells of the woods and the old musky smells of the building,
the texture and smells of a good book.
The beauty in it all, wishing I could be a child again, but this time free, free from the
bondage's that once held me down.
The innocence ripped from the child sitting in this chair,
the only comfort she could find was in the woods.
Mother Earth was her best friend, the one she ran to for protection and nurturing.
She paints a perfect picture
As she trawls the rocky strand
A muscle here a barnacle there
Enough to fill both hands
Two odd socks for one at least
will decorate her cast
Her hair tied up as best dad can
Which probably won't last
Bent double as she picks seashells
Her pants tag proudly showing
Her bag of shells light up her face
And leave her innocence glowing
She takes a moment to herself
To fix her favourite pose
She sips her drinka frown-filled thought
Her poem to compose
She spies a group of ducklings
Braving every wave
Excitement flairs as help she does
Each little one to save
Her gentle hands embrace each one
The highlight of her day
Her wondrous sight at each ones plight
As she helps them on their way
A day at the strand with Aoibha ...oh and the Ducks
Gloomy nights do mirror the lunar rays
on silent surfaces of glowing lakes
where hidden creatures feed upon berries.
Oh the bushes rumble and leaves tumble.
From them you see hidden eyes that shine lights
so yellow,luminous that fear inspire.
A woman wanders these wild woodlands,
in search of signs and pensive reflections,
which nature shows to her practitioners.
From men she fled to remain a maiden
for her virginity she did esteem.
Her father her wish joyfully did grant,
and in forests to survive taught her how,
and for her he bent a bow as a boon,
to hunt a deer to feed upon so sweet
to sate her hunger and appetite's delight.
The moon upon her triumphs shines bright,
which is her symbol's might and empire.
i attempt to take a breath as structure slips away,
two lips and a whisper changed a universe today,
patterns contort and minds tilt ajar,
my soul is dumbfounded in sight of this art,
head in the clouds, where home isn't far,
seems ages away, knee deep in the stars,
i know not, the language,
i can not define,
but i know that its coming,
it's growing, it's mine.
while my girl waddles
towards her first sandcastle
over tadpoles and minnows
that hide in shallow waters
We have hot oil in China,
Rising slowly from the ground
There is a deep dense fog hovering round
The air is smokey, so dense it seems green
The sun so hot it's making everyone lean
Curfews so early all think it's obscene
And the hot oil keeps rising, if you know what I mean
Hot oil keeps rising, it doesn't go down
It's been well over a month since it covered the ground
Machinery moves carelessly all through the night
I bothers us so much we boarded up the windows tight
I bought ear plugs but I gave them to my brother Mike
Bells keep bleeping on and off go the lights
So another pair of ear plugs I bought
School won't let me wear them, saying I'll rot
So I decided to grow my hair long
Hide my ear plugs under it all day long
But when I go home at night
And I cover up really tight
And I pray because theres nothing else we can do
Oh hear me Lord, don't let my mother find the ear plugs in my shoe
We turned to each other when we heard on the news
Our daughters place of work, enduring mother nature's bruise
She worked on an island now swamped with wrath
To her we now travel to retrace her last path
To go there blind never knowing if she breathes
Thoughts think the worst as we subconsciously grieve
Our daughter, our life, as we make plans to depart
Facing hours of torment as our minds tear apart
To this island we head where she enjoys life to the full
Thinking back to her young years, learning in school
This paradise as she calls it, in the Indian Ocean
Our minds picture, her love to live notions
We step of the plane into a world far from home
Praying we find her, dead or alive, to never roam
To the north of the island, Aceh is it's name
Is this where we find her, with no one to blame
We reach the village, it's where our daughter calls home
Teaching the youngsters English along the beaches they combed
We wander dazed and confused, joining the crying and the grieving
Emotional rescuers surround us, they just keep on believing
Hand in hand we stare hoping, as our eyes glimpse the lost
Our daughters not there, as we join the emotional exhaust
Suddenly I feel a tugging on my sleeve
Lady lady, you my teachers mama, come with me please
Looking down, my eyes cascading with tears
A beautiful young girl, momentarily relieving my fears
Lady lady, please please, come with me please
To a makeshift hospital she takes us, our hearts so in unease
To a door we arrive, she cries, mama's teacher mama's teacher
As she is led away by the hospital preacher
We are greeted by a doctor, taken through corridors of death
The relieving earlier felt, now replaced by inner reft
The stench of death drifts, lost souls we feel crying
Resonating sounds echo, the last breaths of the dying
Cubicle after cubicle, every curtain our hearts run
In broken English, is she the one, is she the one
The second curtain from the last, the doctor once again opens
Despair and tears increase, parents lost in their hoping
Before us lies, a broken twisted bandaged soul
The tattoo on her ankle, I cry Nicole, it's our Nicole
Engulfed with emotions our cheeks streaming with tears
Viewing the earlier posters, parents losing their fears
Living this moment, realising their daughter has lived
As we look back to the pictures, knowing families are sieved
Words we will remember until the day we are gone
That moment we heard, is she the one, is she the one
Across the brook they are calling me
calling me to join in and be free,
across the ripples they are calling me
to truly learn to be,
and just like a fairy sings cheerily
sings cheerily of the sacred space,
and just like a child I am wearily
creeping closer to the place.
Down by the creek we are listening
listening to the sounds of peace,
down by the creek where the trees do swing
and the rivers bend and crease,
I sit on the edge where the green moss grows
grows so thick I could sleep all day,
I sit on the edge where the crickets crow
and the ripples jump and play.
Up by the rock where the light shines down
and the shadows dance on a moonlit night,
up by the rocks the fairy queen wears her crown
before the days first light,
in the waters deep where I rest my feet
and the fish slip past with their strong thick tails,
in the waters deep where the rivers meet
is where I go by trail.
I will miss this place still so crystal clear
where my heart can rest from its weary past,
I will miss this space but my biggest fear
is that this place won't last.
Four young fellas rode by around midday.
Sun was strong as whiskey scratching the back of a three day dried throat.
The three girls were out front and Ma came out pointing her loaded shotgun.
Riders like these and the hot sun wasn’t gonna be anything
but a barrel full o’ trouble.
They tipped their hats, asked for water.
Kitty with her blouse all open and them nubile breasts of hers just pouting
like peas in a pod just ready to pop.
Ma saw the way she was eying up that dark haired fella.
She just hollered at her to get her trouble seeking ass inside.
Ginny, the eldest girl, fetched them the water.
Seemed like they weren’t in any hurry to leave, so Ma fired off a shot,
whistled by the blond one’s ears so his horse darn near threw him.
Ma wasn’t the kind to tell anyone anything but once,
cos she said you can’t be wasting the Lord’s precious breath on hard eared scum.
They got the message well enough.
Don’t reckon we’ll be seeing them back this way again any time soon.
In a river marsh, where pondweeds and cattails grew in warm clime,
the fair girl found a tall, black egret
with whom she could have a chat;
and was it the same one that her parents rescued from the wild?
Among bulrushes taller than she actually was,
the anxious girl told that bird one of her wishes:
to hop on his back and fly as the happiest butterfly,
and find her mom whom she remembered singing a lullaby.
" Take me to my mom!" she begged the wading bird.
" Nobody ever takes me there to visit her" she exclaimed.
" She may be miles away from here...way past the blue ocean!"
He replied with little confidence, lacking a sense of emotion.
The fair girl kept on begging, until the black egret finally nodded.
" Thank you, kind bird...now let's fly and depart from this marshland!"
So the two of them ventured into a cloudy sky expecting no rainfall...
not until they had gotten there safely and heard that sweet mother's call..
Sitting by a moss-covered tree illuminated by sunlight at three,
he plays the very song that his anscestors played yesterday;
remembering what the peaceful and wild land was and will be...
by accepting the fact that his tomorrow is decided by destiny.
He can spend an entire afternoon playing a hand-made flute color chestnut,
as every breeze-lulled maple tree seem to vanish in the increasing, grey fog;
and if his music with shrilling, melodic notes is a devise to find his stranded dog,
he will have the best friend to guide him safely home through beams of twilight.
Play, handsome warrior the melody you forefathers played on those efflorescent days
underneath the same oak tree to celebrate their free manhood;
and resembling them with long hair and piercing, dreaming eyes,
you don't expect that intruders from other lands would compromise your happiness.
Foxes, grizzly bears, coyotes and buffaloes hear your music and come around to peek:
they know that you wouldn't hurt them and they wonder who's the Great Spirit;
little they suspect that they will be hunted down by the new-comers from the East;
be their friend, warrior...promise them protection when they'll encounter the Beast.
All that you behold today, may be gone tomorrow making you weep,
grasslands and prairies will tun into towns and cities to make way for greed;
and blood will flow abundantly on meadows where only wildflowers grew...
devastation everywhere with mother's screams by red rivers not so blue.
You must have had dreams of what was coming with a spectacle so gruesome,
take heart...your tomorrow is decided by destiny, pray that you won't be harmed;
continue playing your flute by remembering everything that you deeply loved,
and if you'll die fighting heartless men, I'll remember that look so lonesome.
I do not know?
From the moment a she is born, she is a piece of meat
Every expectation of an in-law she must meet
The bachelors pick and chose
What do they have to loose?
They just agree of refuse
Daughters for sale at every event
Love is made in heaven isn’t that what God meant?
Well I’m a veggie and not meat
I’m not on a market stall or at their feet
My heart will choose and select
Love has no reason to reject
the illuminating sounds of summer
first there is birds sweet sernarding amidst cottonwoods
and if your lucky enough even capture whispers of the wind speaking
down in a lustrous valley of green and don't forget about
echoes of an eagle encircling the blue yonder looking for it's mate
or you can capture sounds of a babbling brook flowing
down an winding outcrop stream but to me
I think my favorite sound thus far is the laughter of my child's voice
and the sizzling sounds of hot dogs and hamburgers
being made on my grill as were watching fireworks display
from the back of a twin engine houseboat floating down
a rivers edge Oh the sounds of summer would be nil
if I would awake from this enchanted dream
the waters small body
small fry big splashes on farm
first catch in her day
her whole world was
hunting for rocks at the
banks of the shallow
narrow river that runs
through the canyon behind
On her knees,
wrist deep in the
icy current, she
sifts through piles of
searching for the
perfect little pebble.
She slips the pebble
safely in that pointed place
in the pocket of her jeans.
Down the path,
she's conscious of the
digging her hand down
now and then.
she reaches in
with her fingers, to
pluck the pebble
from her pocket
and she places it
on a shelf
with the others.
stretched under the covers,
tucked and tight, and drifting,
she dreams of
‘ Yellow Rose of Texas ’ Haiku # 14
A Lone Star Shone On
A Yellow Rose of Texas
and Bluebonnets Grown
When I found you I could hear the river running in the distance,
as the water crashed over the rocks.
When I found you I could smell the aftermath of rain
hanging in the air.
When I found you I could see the trees, greenery, rocks
and river as they intertwine around me.
When I found you I could nearly taste
your kiss upon my lips as if it had never happened before.
When I found you I could feel the breeze around me
and the warmth as it grew inside me.
When I found you...
I do not know?
My love of nature and the great outdoors,
takes me from a woodland walk on the valley
floor to the highest peaks above loch Awe. Where
I get to see the eagle soar.
Mother nature she gives us the capability to explore
and how I wish to see so much more. A walk on the
sand by the ocean shore. Where me and my daughter
collect sea shells, whilst breathing in that sea breeze smell.
My longing desire beckons
Go kiss the fair faced moon!
Though its reflection lies
giving forth a priceless smile
than why oblige to go
kiss the fair faced moon?
an ostrich dances
with a cupcake and castle –
she laughs at clouds
I do not know?
no moon to be shown on this sleepless night.
no moon to be seen on this blackness night.
no moom to be seen or be shown for the people below,
no light not even a peck of white light that comes from the moon.
not even a glint on the starry night.. who wait for their beauiful moon want to get a glint of the light to be shown on this blacknes night. for the goddess of the moon, gives the light to the moon, that makes me love. as i am the fallen angel of the night, without the glimps or taste of the moonlight.
in the garden lies
the replica of my love,
a yellow rose smiles
Liquid filled dreams crept through the cool night breeze as a still distant thunder cracked the horizon.
I thought to my self that an earth quake must be taking ground for it’s sake.
Safe over the hill and still quit far up aways my moms home baked cookies broke the day.
I had my own “Loc Ness”, quite the demon, and as not to sneak snacks was an easyprice to pay.
My world began empty and cold as it seemed from one life bring wisdom.
Rough enough storm to destroy, every thing that we knew, the tusnami -a wave of a storm.
I confess to hearing her laugh what a story this was going to make.
Later they tried to pan the bottom of the oceans floor hoping to avoid more.
And I will leave you here on your own but then after it’s done you’ll be home.
No matter what you’ll stay, but if another one comes Austrailia is that way,my moms arm waved.
And I see her begining to stare, her mind was set on wide open to get it all those people saved.
I do still answer myself again and again about why if it hurts so bad,
The answers all began to be crystal clear and the answer is;
She worked hard to make it a decent place to live and storms bad enough they called in the Hubble.
A tusnami destroys everything.
Everything she loves about her life is in rubble.
Based on the idea of how people live,
And why she cares when they die,
Fighting with intimacy,
While they drag the sea to collect people who died,
And my mind begins to wonder why the storms taking so long to decide,
We are waiting here waiting for another heck of a ride.
I sit by the waters edge
Sitting on the border of a concrete ledge
Surrounded by miss-shaped rocks
Formed by the years of repeated water knocks
I throw a line in the water
As a man sits next to me with his son and daughter
On my line I get a bite
The bait disappears with little fight
I reel back in and rebait the rod
And throw back out for the battle with the cod
Suddenly I see a school of fish
Hoping for every fisherman’s wish
I recast trying to get the biggest and weightiest fish
I see a cormorant tangled up sitting on a pylon
Wrapped around his beak is plastic or nylon
I get up to aid the injured bird
But it fly’s away as soon as my footsteps are heard
I go back to my battle with the underwater beast
Still confident my patience will result in a feast
The clouds come over and it begins to rain
This just exacerbates my frustration and pain
All of my attempts have so far been in vain
But still I sit but wonder if I am still sane
The rain begins to clear
Perhaps now the fish will appear
I can see a rainbow in the distance
My mind wonders despite my resistance
I try to focus on what I want to achieve
I quickly realise that it’s the bounty of fish I want to receive
It’s hard to fish with so many natural attractions
Whilst not unpleasant they are unwanted distractions
I ponder on these thoughts for a time so long
And eventually I conclude this is wrong
I reel back in my line with rod
And forget about the fight with the cod
I am going to enjoy just being here
Such beautiful sites at a near
The glistening of the sun reflecting on the water
The earlier image of a father and his daughter
The ripples and shadows the water creates
The way the bird flew and never hesitates
The way the fish refused to be caught
The way the rain and fish together fought
The rain gently dripping off my hat
The way the cormorant on the pylon sat
The way time seems to stand still
The way nature can make a person feel
I get lost in the moment and don’t want to leave
Some of the things I’ve seen I can’t believe
I should come down here without any fishing reasons
How beautiful it would be in the different seasons
I find myself content at the water’s edge
I have never felt so comfortable sitting on a ledge
I do not know?
Drip, drip, drip, drip
Into the water I want to slip
Chills run down my spine
That sweet warm water will be mine
Heat runs through my veins
As I watch the pouring rain
The chills slowly subside
As I ache to go outside
Instead I choose to sit
And watch my granny knit
A sweater that will be for me
I really should let her be
Looking down at my mug
The chills begin to tug
I see mom out in the rain
Better put on the kettle again
October 9, 2011
She lay on the sofa,
Two arthritis pain pills nearby,
Holding a thin romance book
With a thin plot involving
An empty heroine, an empty hero,
Explicitly but tastefully making love.
I’ve heard, she said, closing the book,
Marking her place with a folded handkerchief,
That books with graphic sex
Can be awfully boring.
What are those tall trees across the street?
Georgia pines, we told her.
She asked: Is the tallest one the father,
And the other two son and daughter?
We laughed. All siblings, we replied.
She looked doubtful. Then she said:
I’m convinced trees talk, I wish I knew what about.
Since I'm eighty now, I suppose
I'll never understand tree language.
I also think each tree has a soul,
The way people do -- don’t you?
What’s the glossy dark green tree on the left?
A magnolia, we said, almost an evergreen.
Remember magnolias from Maryland?
Smaller ones -- we called them sweet bays.
Yes, she said, and smiled. Beautiful small magnolias
With creamy blossoms, up on the hill.
There’s a weeping willow, she went on,
A happy bouncy willow.
Look how gracefully it bends in the breeze!
March had a cruel surprise:
Four inches of icy snow, bitter winds..
The willow perished.
Later a bush appeared in its place,
But we kept on picturing the willow.
Next they replaced the grove of pines
With a tire shop.
A year later, the magnolia was felled,
And the house behind it, too.
Six condos were quickly built,
And marketed for a million dollars each.
Still, we'd see when looking across the street,
Superimposed on the replacements,
The willow, the magnolia, the pines.
Lovely tree ghosts: They had greeted us kindly.
By then our mother wasn't on the sofa or reading.
She was bedridden, and couldn’t focus on books.
Despite her dying heart, we all three
Changed our residence -- an enforced move.
We hope the tree ghosts are still intact and active,
We'll always think of them with affection,
But my sister and I don't plan to visit that block again.
Our mother is not alive any more, either,
But we doubt she’s a ghost, like the trees.
We consider that she is
Bound up forever in the bonds of eternal life.
All the same, at times we’ll be overcome
By a wave of goodness and warmth,
Amazing beauty and strength,
Then, puzzled, we'll discuss what happened,
And the only sane conclusion we can reach
Is that Mama had paid us a fleeting loving visit.
Out of the yard,daughter Bev and me,on a hot summer day of Eighty-three.Hastoe
to Cadsden,there and back,eight hours in the saddle..for our first all-day
hack.Onto the canter path,down to Paines End,through Fox Lane our route did
wend.Into a copse ,missing branches low,keeping the pace to an even flow.Up to
Dunsmore,past the Black Horse,via Little Hampden we followed the course.Past
Chequers and into Pondswood,down the hill to reach the pub.
Tethered the horses to the garden trees,ordered a ploughmans,with pickle and
cheese.Feet up awhile for a long rest,enjoying a pint of the landlord's best.
Into the saddle,no time to laze,off at a canter in the heat haze.Back in Hastoe as
the clock struck four,to stack the tack on the stable door.
I do not know?
There's more to me than the color of my eyes
The way i smileor give a sigh
If you looked deeper within me
You may be amazed at what you see
I'm creative and imaginative
I care about the world in which we live
I believe in freedom and equal rights
Also quiet summer nights
I believe in unity and family ties
And the sounds of newborn cry's
The earth's new awakening,in spring
I read nonfiction to learn new things
So look past the surface and you will see
The person that is really me
Ill crawl on my own.
I’ll go down the slide.
I’ll make friends.
Ill ride my bike.
I’ll live my life.
I’ll do great, you’ll see.
Ill succeed and make you
Just Let Go!
Two little ducklings
Went on a journey
Because they were looking for their Mother
They went in the pond
Then they saw a Mommy duck
Then the Mommy duck punished
The two little ducklings
Because they are not supposed to leave home
The complete opposite of a man…
Existence is unique and never less than.
Her presence can be compelling and desirable,
Forthright, like a force from nature, unstoppable!
Exuding feminine qualities that are mesmerizing,
So much so, that it’s uncanny and amazingly hypnotizing.
In a noble manner that she sees fit to fashion,
She is capable of undeniable passion.
When she loves, her emotions prevail,
Her warmth and loyalty with adoration we hail,
For her wholesome nurturing shall never fail.
In respect to her genuine, moral sense,
A being that epitomizes beauty and intelligence,
So with this I say with pertinence,
Show a woman honor, respect, to emphasize her importance.
Soft and Beautiful almost Bitter-Cold Thing
A man watched her… from across the bar
Said: “I had to come over… to where you are
… sitting there drinking… Kaluah and Cream
… looking like – someone’s un-awakened dream
Decided to catch her … ‘fore she got away
Then he asked her … what she had to say…
Now, she’s listened, but wasn’t too impressed
She just grouped him … with all the rest …
… and said: “I’m Snowing …
I’m Fragile… when I’m Falling …
My heart is frozen … kept on thaw-alert
I won’t let it melt … I don’t want to hurt
Don’t get too close, or you may get chilled
Don’t mean to be rude … that’s just how I feel…
like Snowing …
Soft and beautiful, but Bitter-Cold thing “
Now, I’ve heard the fairy tale of a young boy and girl
Who got caught up … in an icy-world
But, I’m more saddened, by what I just seen …
What could have changed that woman into The Snow Queen?
She’s Snowing …
Such a Soft beauty, but Bitter-Cold thing
She’s Snowing … Snowing … Snowing
Now, the man, politely touched her arm …
Got her to dance … held her close and warm …
The Heat of His Heart-beat, tho’ Strong … was only fleeting
He looked down into her eyes … they were sleeting …
She was Snowing …
Soft and beautiful, but Bitter-Cold thing
She was Snowing … Snowing … Snowing
Maybe, he’ll see her again, this time, next year
… but … if you make her melt … She will disappear …
‘Cause She’s Snowing
Such a Soft and beautiful, Bitter-Cold thing
That girl is Snowing … Snowing … Snowing
Cracks of corral emerged between the Earth’s proud crown of evergreen
Gleaming down on grateful Father whose arms in bloom embraced his Daughter
Moon upon Moon in prayer he spent that God would grant his heart’s content
Now all his dreams no longer dreams but infant in his arms serene
They traveled on til trails converged and River’s roar ahead was heard
Then there upon the shore was laid, a bless’ed barge of birchbark made.
From the River’s roots they rowed, embarking on a fate unknown
Wide-eyed Child soothed by Father’s song amidst echoes of the Wild’s call
Sweetly metered by sweeping oar he told her tales of life before
The great divide of Earth and Sky, of Land and Sea, of Day and Night
How God by grace named each creature each fish and fowl each fir and fur
Then in His hands mixed clay and sand, the gift of life breathed into Man.
Between each bend dear Daughter grew and saw the world from worn canoe
Floating onward until the day she traded hums and howls to say
Father, Father, I understand! With lamb and wolf we share this land!
How scattered seed grew into tree and tree we carved for pole to feed
Father you’ve grown and given me your faith and love so I might be
Someday just like you a Giver on the road of life, the River!
i am a rose,
My body made of many layers
Filled with strength and several prayers
Sun and water are food to my soul,
Like my parents trimming, tender touch, and trust
For with out them I’d wilt, dry up, and turn to dust
I am determined, courageous and rarely blue
Some say a rose means I love you
I am a rose with a stem straight and true.
I do not know?
To the sky tonight (from two passersby)
who stole a moment to watch you cry
The wind blew the trees from off their tops
and tugged the cloud blanket swift over the night
We waited at the top of the kitchen stairs
and laughed at the thunder like we didn’t care
The flood gates could open and never stop
and this would but be another memory to share
My daughters eyes flew from the trees to your sky
and I saw her inhale deep and gently sigh
for she wasn’t the girl whose countenance drops
or who runs from the lightning and hides inside.
She wanted to run in your tears.
She felt all the anguish of ten thousand men
who had offered up ten thousand prayers.
She never decided to hide her own eyes
or give in to perilous fear.
I held her in my arms with delight
to be able to share in this sight
A storm full of passion is always in fashion
as the sky cries it’s eyes out tonight.
I memorize this haven of time
To solidly fix all this natural bliss
like a tree rooted deep in my mind.
I return my daughter’s sweet smile
and nod that it’s time to go in
She’s the sun in my skies when it’s pouring outside
She’s the moment that I start to grin.
Beautiful glooming rose
Beauty gentle snowflake
Hug touch of a hand
Simple gift of surprises
Baby smile memories
Always dancing around me
Warmth of memories
Deeply wounded heart
A helping hand
A costly smile
A endless friendship
I wish I had a daughter.
The game, our game
Played by daughters of Eve
Sand-witching sons of Adam in their laps
No man ever had good tales to tell
When gagged by the Sharon’s daughters
Indeed the serpent of our time
Our game, their game, the people’s game.
Alayande Stephen T.
11th February 2007
my garden's blooming...
beautiful roses greet me,
with their fiery lips
I do not know?
I stand Here in the Darkness, My Arms Crossed Against My Naked Chest.
I Tear Away My Skin and Cast It into the Darkness.
I Tear Away My Muscles and Cast It into the Darkness.
I Tear Away My Tissues and Cast Them into the Darkness.
I Tear Apart My Bones, Grind Them Together and Cast Them into the Darkness.
I Stand Here in the Darkness and My Blood Falls Away.
I Pullout My Brain and Toss It into the Darkness.
I Pullout My Heart and Toss It into the Darkness.
I Pullout My Eyes and Toss Them into the Darkness.
I Rip Off My Ears and Toss Them into the Darkness.
I Rip Off My Lips, Pullout My Tongue, My Teeth and
All My Vocal Cords Tossing Them into the Darkness.
I Have Given You My Skin so that Man May Have Hardened Earth.
I Have Given You My Muscles so that Man May Have Forged Continents.
I Have Given You My Tissues so that Man May Have Broken Continents.
I Have Given You My Bones so that Man May Have White Frozen Lands.
I Have Given You All My Blood so that Man May Have Wet Oceans.
I Have Given You My Brain so that Man May Have Individual Thoughts.
I Have Given You My Heart so that Man May Be Able to Love Each Other.
I Have Given You My Eyes so that Man May See Each Other.
I Have Given You My Ears so that Man May Hear Each Other.
I Have Given You My Lip, My Tongue, My Teeth
and All My Vocal Cords so that Man May Speak With Each Other.
Above All These Physical Items I Have Given You A Soul with Definite Shape.
I Have Given You A Soul that Man May Have Religious Individuality.
I Am Your Father And I Love You.
I Want You to Love One Another.
Shallow finger bowl
shines blue in the kitchen sun
holding sacred gifts.
Once thought of as weeds, and pulled.
Now, floating flowers, treasured.
There Is a Lady sweet and kind luxurious
Beauty look I way finely, time noctice Her shaking bye
And yet I cherish Her till I fly Her gesture motion and
Her smiles Her kiss Her voice my heart beguiles
Precious my style in graceness I know not why political
Yet I one love Her till I fly Her marvelous educated
Talent steping looks will make a Poet burn His books I
Touched Her not ready not I, and yet I love Her till i fly
Had her fast betwixt mine Arms memories you that
Think alone a poem harms were't and melony? Yes,yes,
Fame! for I will love her till I fly rhyming I collaborate away
There much long as writing poetry in sphere I to request
She to ask Me yet would I love Her till I fly whim change,but
Change She foundation, or change She Sky,
Yet will I love Her till I fly.
Ask Me no more where Jove bestows when
June is past, the fading roses, for In your beauty's
Orient deep these flowers, as In their cause sleep ask
Me no more whither do stray the golden atoms of the Day;
For in pure love Heaven did prepare those
Powders to enrich your hair ask Me no more whither
Doth haste the nighttingale when May is past;
For In sweet dividing lawn She Winters, and keeps warm Her
Note ask Me no more where those Star's light, that
Downwards fall in dead of Night for in your Eye's they
Sit and there fixed become as In there sphere ask Me
No more if East or West the foundation builds Her spicy
Fragrant sweet violent sent love thou art absolute sole
Lord I gift writing poetry to prove the word we'll now
Appeal to no none of all those thy old Poet's great and tall.
Near the placid stream
That I may bloom, like an alabaster rose
I do not know?
You are the twinkle in the life
of elephants and blue giraffes.
You conjure them up in your sleep
and give them lots of ginger treats.
Perhaps you ride on lion's backs
and hear of secret planned attacks
on zebra homes and wallabies.
Perhaps you even hear them sneeze.
Maybe you hop in your canoe
and race the river otters too
to find the crocodile flower
and taste the kumquat, small and sour.
I think that all your dreams are true
A red-backed snail with one slug shoe.
A butterfly who sells perfume
and marbles played in moth cocoons.
Bubbles blown by flying fish
and riding them to wherever you wish.
A swirl of purple pearly walls
to protect all of your lemur calls.
A thousand sunset’s burn below you.
A serenade from Him that knows you.
You dream in delicate patterns deep
of animals you're sure to keep
And care for in the paradise
You'll feed the parrots coconut rice.
and scrub the algae turtle's back
while he chews on a lettuce snack.
You'll nestle in the wild bears den
and help them call the salmon friend.
It's quite a sight to comprehend
A dream to make our dreaming end...