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Ode Introspection Poems | Ode Poems About Introspection

These Ode Introspection poems are examples of Ode poems about Introspection. These are the best examples of Ode Introspection poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode | |

A Heart Song

A heart hath no boundaries,
It sees no fault, it does not fear.
It walks a narrow path alone,
Meeting sorrows along the way.
A path full of strife,
Yet it tarries along the path,
Till it reaches the place 
Of absolute eternity.


Details | Ode | |

Adversity of Scarcity

Besieged by scarcity, they have fallen,
fallen into adversity 
— the adversity of scarcity

The rain falls, but their seeds grow not 
There is plenty, but their belly is empty
They are the fallen, down by adversity 
— the adversity of scarcity

Plenty to go around, yet they get not a morsel
They are muzzled, for they have no muscle

To get a bite, they've got to chip in for the tart
But, they have to take a hike, for they can't get 
astride; they've fallen, into adversity,
all because of scarcity 
— the adversity of scarcity

They have lost steam, so they are short on esteem
They get not, if they've got not, so they get none;
that's the law, the law of neediness

To get about, they need a clout, but no crowd about, 
for they are not the “in crowd” 
They're down, so they're left out, kept out of the crowd

Now they're without, and do without, 
all because of adversity  
— the adversity of scarcity


Details | Ode | |

In Memoriam (Che Guevara)

                            I
I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.

                            II
They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.

                    (Refrain)
But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.

                            III
And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you, 
there's only one like you, 
there's only one Che Guevara.
              (Repeat Refrain)
                
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.



Details | Ode | |

An Ode To My Beloved

I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...


Details | Ode | |

Nyx - Ode


Strophe:

The shadows know the scent of cloves,
as Nyx devolves from sleep's crossroad,
the night-owls croak to domes above,
her ode the stars turns to abode.

Her firmness strings the scene's stillness,
her laughter waves in hung ether,
small hours' submit her thoughts' steepness,
advancing 'mid green heather.

The night birds watch - with eyes of amber
night wraiths descend from stardome flare,
upon a sky-drome meander
that ghostly travelers time-share.
-----

Antistrophe:

Brilliant's the moon in ventured glory,
above shapes lays and daunting wraiths,
her eminence surpassed souls' faith,
to hark the travelers' lone story.

And kind advanced to lands of blooms,
as night conveyed upon each breath,
she confers grand the kiss of death,
with fates to weave on lethal looms.
-----

Epode:

On darkened growth she shines dismal,
In Stygian reign she rules - abysmal,
enchanted souls shall dwell in void,
with Acheron's old paths destroyed.
-----
© G.V. 10-03-2012, All Rights Reserved
Nyx = Night


Details | Ode | |

the nature of success

The Nature of Success. 

On an old tank ship that was so slow it felt as
we were suspended in time, a world shrunk 
only us the ocean and the rhythmic hear beat 
of the engine… and when the ship birthed, at 
some god forsaken refinery, we felt overcome 
by shyness seeing so many strange faces. 

It was on a ship like this I met the third officer
a young man with literary ambitions, and he
succeeded on Norway´s modest literary tree. 
Often interviewed, asked awkward questions 
about writing and why he writes like it should 
be a hidden formula.

I´m glad for his triumph, yet there is a sting in
my heart, not of rancor, but of sadness…never 
having received the clarion call of acceptance.
Collections after collections have been rejected.
I feel as I have been suspended in a fool´s time,
only the sea and me and the shore is far away. 


Details | Ode | |

Musings of Mother

"I shall be telling this with a sigh" Robert Frost My thoughts they roil like waters dark in the abyss of blackest night with memories of mother’s book marks of Longfellow read by lamp light. She called in the room around me the patter of other small feet, her gentle voice fetched angels Oh, rhymes how they astounded me like lullabies soft and so sweet. All fearsome shadows, she’d dispel Maxine, my queen read Tennyson and the Charge of the Light Brigade a little girl dreamt of caissons roll and thunderous cannonades. To be so brave the small child mused mother’s small, precious, heroine what would it take to stand so strong without father, and not confused What words where the linchpin to right mother’s tell tale wrong. Such sad inspiration*.. mother but a champion you were born. You’re adored before all others yet, tears bring memories forlorn. So, dreams stream on of Mother Goose three kittens and their mittens. My visions of your fleeting smile return almost every night, and your spirit comforts, lightens sights, if only for a little while.


Details | Ode | |

Fun-Frosted Memories

Dee’s father bought a fancy, family sled 
to her amusement and joy
He shocked the town pulling this sled around
With his good, shiny Model T Ford

Memories run through Dee’s mind
At the family hardware store,
she would climb the latter up to the loft
and sit inside the sled stored there,
reflecting on cool-warmed times-
a father’s smile…a heart sublime

-For my Grandma Dee
May 30, 2014


Details | Ode | |

Waking up is Dangerous Business

Waking up is dangerous business. 
Killing time, wash the dishes. 
Open the bottle, swallow silence, 
Brainwash the kids, quell defiance. 

Or maybe it’s just me. 
Or maybe it’s just me. 

Break them down, impose the dogmatic
Walk away, consider it emphatic. 
Instill false virtues, pass the world into the hands of the meek. 
Destroy opposition, leave the whole world weak. 

Or maybe it’s just me. 
Or maybe it’s just me. 

Waking up is dangerous business. 
Contemplative kids end up in ditches
Passive aggressive logical corruption
Chop the garbage fine, for easy consumption

Or maybe it’s just me.
Maybe it’s just me..


Details | Ode | |

Crook

You stole my laughter and hid it well under layers of concrete

I used a jackhammer to release them and with care

Moses was our traffic cop and we floated in opposites

Our love was stricken and the wind blew us like lonely chimes

I was your orphan taken back as a suit that won't fit

I am not a fool but was

How dos it feel on your tower

Can you see me and my clear eyes

The laughter has come back to visit

Sometimes I ride it as the sea we loved

But Moses wags his finger at me and I am reminded


Details | Ode | |

Ode to the Rain



Rain drops pounding upon my window pane,
Oh joy! Not the foreboding sound of gloom. 
The sun blotted from the sky by gray rain
bringing harmony and flowering blooms. 
I hear the distant sky's waning thunder. 
The catharsis of mother earth's womb shares 
the joys of rebirth in the winds chorus
with the sound of wonder.
In the warmth of my home, my soul declares;
the rain has come to relieve me from stress.

Shall I take a sweet nap or lose control?
In my flannel pajamas, I delight 
in quiet time alone, feeding my soul.
First, sleep with dreams, love caressed in starlight. 
Hand-in-hand, a stroll under silver moon. 
Awakened by a gentle kiss to spark
feelings stolen by my mundane routines.
With flower petals strewn,
moistened blooms beckon me out to the park 
to skip and splash like a child in blue jeans.

Rain still pours from the sky as I reach home
for a matinee, Singin' in the Rain.
Cozy with hot tea, no more need to roam.
Warm, content feelings, I cannot contain.
Gene Kelly inspires me to leave my bed
dancing through my house with full abandon. 
Music plays loudly, I'm liberated.
A gray day turns bright red.
As I dance, ducks splash outside on my lawn.
My tired body feels rejuvenated    


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
for An Ode to Small Comforts on a Rainy Afternoon contest (Cyndi MacMillan)


Details | Ode | |

Whispers Of The Stars

In the darkest hour, Of the coldest night When the Heavens deign To open wide And e’en Angels Take startled flight Form eerie sounds And silvered light The Cosmos converses In Cosmic verses and is Softly scriptured, the melodies The stanzas…the bars In the gelid Winter’s night… And would’st one lend a careful ear, Perhaps the Gods… would grant him hear …The whispers of the stars…


Details | Ode | |

I'm Just Me

Some say I'm arrogant, the rest say I'm cocky,
But the funniest thing is that no one said it right to me,
They talk behind my back like it has at least one ear,
And as soon as I turn around they all disappear,
Its just my confidence, is there something wrong,
Well if yes the wrongs make me very strong,
I'm just being me, impersonating myself,
Too bad you can't be me, the copier is high on the top shelf,
I’m high on my pedestal, high on my own stool,
Looking down at you all, you all my students welcome to my school,
To be like me you have to keep a straight A average,
Doing extra credit just to get some leverage,
I isolate myself from all you fake people,
Solitary confinement, as I strengthen and you weaken,
All you want to be is fly with some huge swag,
Where's my fly swatter? Oh its right here in my bag,
Just sit and watch as I SWAT all you flies,
Special Weapons And Tactics, then everyone dies,
They say only monkeys are cute, then call me the ape,
Roaming through the jungle to find my female primate,
As I look in my palm, there I see the world,
Then I scan through it all to find the perfect girl,
I search the globe to find her, I wasted my time,
When there she was under my nose, now she's mine,
She's at my level, and we all know that's far,
And I'll search the world again to find you, where ever you are......


Details | Ode | |

Bathsheba

The juggler moves his fingers fast, 
he likes to smile and to deceive, 
when people laugh at his recast, 
his goal's higher things to achieve, 
for Bathsheba applauds and laughs.

Her hands she claps with sullen glee, 
changed him to a marionette, 
that sprawls for her obediently, 
       jinxed tragicomical duette, 
       he jumps defeating gravity.

The juggler walks on tightened rope, 
St. Bernard will protect his act, 
frail equilibrium's postponed, 
he'll pass across, crows' croaks detract, 
agleam granite pavement's below.

Unmoved he laid, (lost souls misgive) , 
the juggler sprawled did not bemoan, 
the sawbones's charlatan and thief, 
as Bathsheba failed to dethrone, 
the clown's tangential unknown grief.

© G. V. 12/23/2012, All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)


Details | Ode | |

Ode to A Healthy Prisoner

Just breathe in the clarity
Clarity of the whole
Whole or negativity
Negativity eating your soul

Head for tomorrow
Tomorrow always waits
Waits for enlightenment
Enlightenment heals mistakes

You are where you’ve put yourself
Your “SELF” now reminds you of shame
Shame brought on by acting out thoughts
Thoughts a conscious shouldn't retain

Give yourself an apology
An Apology you deserve to have
Have some faith in your timing
Timing bleeds wisdom in man 

Bless your self and live righteous
Righteous spirits rise above 
Above all if you are kind
Kind souls conquer hate with love

Poetry brings torment to a halt
Halt all your never-ending thoughts
Thoughts are forbidden evil hiding
Hiding light inside divine spots

So please write down your own deep thoughts
Thoughts penned will conquer your inside trap
Trap your life up in your cell  all alone
Alone you shall stay smelling your crap~



please don't be offended by the last line~ 
I felt it was necessary to get my point across~


Details | Ode | |

An Ode To Youth


I remember when I was young and fair
Slim long legs and soft black hair
My winsome smile and dark green eyes
Caused many a suitor to agonize
When turned away…rejected….forlorn
Wishing he had never been born!
I was always the Queen at any ball
Captivating one and all!

But youth is fleeting…beauty a sham
Just a façade…not who I am
The years fly by…beauty fades
Gone are suitors and accolades
Long in the tooth now…wrinkles persist
This is the world in which I exist
Winter is here…my Springs have flown
I sit here lonely and on my own

In life’s twilight before the sun has set
My thoughts turn to youth and the little coquette
I used to be when youth was King
Anticipating what each day would bring
Dark hair flowing… dancing the night away
Thinking life would always be that way
Oh bird of youth…I miss your song
But in the hush at evensong
I sense that I can hear it still
And in my heart…I always will!

Copyright2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)


Details | Ode | |

Silent Night Sky

Oh how can one capture 
Your beauty on paper
Without you evaporating
Off as it is your nature

The stars are your jewels
The moon is your crest
Everyone drools
As if blessed

Your silence is serenity
That whisper to my thoughts
An overwhelming beauty
That ties my stomach up in knots

How humble I am sound
A beauty incomparable
With a radiance so profound
Your absence is unbearable


Details | Ode | |

Ode to Endometriosis

Strong, like kingdom walls,
stacks of sandbags, swamps of quicksand,
or barricades of filigreed barbed wire.
It holds me inside.

I can see myself in eleven years.
Perched on sterile metal instead of 
mountains of handmade quilts,
or nests of woven moss.

It will have turned love-making and child-bearing
from an art to a science,
and I will paint pictures 
of how being a woman is supposed to feel.


Details | Ode | |

A DRINK IN THE MORNING

Coffee in a cup, makes a cup of coffee;
just as an aroma from within, makes the air,

smell of flowers in the spring

...blossoms,
blooms,

time,

...a sweet thing, like sugar cane is to the tasting,
and the tasting is to stirring the dream,
flavor,

making flavored coffee
soul,

a drink in the morning.


Details | Ode | |

Ode To the irresponsible

To the irresponsible

In the eve of dawn
When the cricket advices the listeners
The moon and the stars sit
Performing their duties and enjoying their rights

The blowing breeze freezes her
In spite of her matrimonial statues
Her dreams full of horror
That of a woman smooching hers

At times when the door cracks, open
The water has ran down the drain
The tap laid bay
Like a ship at anchor

Even when they said their prayers
She bemused at his Amen
Does he hear the both?
Receives both their thanks

Will he be amused?
Or maybe flabbergasted 
To see her protruding belly
Why do you refuse a meal?
And purses the flies from eating same


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #209 / Nancy Wilson #1

Nancy Wilson!
How could I have forgotten you!
Because you’re the little sister!
Because you’re so down to earth!


Details | Ode | |

Janitors Broom

the janitors' broom,
it sweeps every room,
under each desk,
cleaning up the mess,
it never complains,
leaving a clean environment for our brains,
this broom is on a mission,
without recognition...


Details | Ode | |

Benign Neglect?

In this life, 
of inevitable recompense, 
of inescapable accountability, 
for collective responsibility, 
indifference to injustice
is not an option;
an epitasis, it is,
in this metaphoric 
epic drama of life


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #237 / Or

Or is he heartless?


Details | Ode | |

To a Mermaid

At the end of the day
All your tears fade away;
All the stars come to rest,
The horizon now crest.

At the sea, the tide fades
As the sum of these days
Takes its toll on the ground,
Ripped and torn, tattered down.

And I'm here, by your side,
Torn away by the tide,
Trying still not to drown,
Not to fade in the sound of the sea.

But I see you, your eyes
Are the tide of the sea.
As they ebb, so they rise.
Still, they wash into me.

I can cry now no more.
Struck yet speechless, I cease.
In your eye, the tides roar;
I have found my release.

Lost in beauty, in that sea,
Lost in time, I'm lost to me.
Your face has aspect, fearful symmetry.
I find I'm lost for words. I cease to breathe.

And as the tide now tears me down,
It matters not.
My soul has found its rest within these ceaseless tides
That once contained my empty cries.

Captivated by your lips,
My breath is water.
'Neath the whips and scorns of time,
I find my peace.
My soul, content, has found release.

Lost in my emotion,
I found what I could be.
Drowned within that ocean,
My soul's absolved to me.

So have I drowned inside the sea,
Inside your tears, inside of me.
I know now what it is to be
Free.


Details | Ode | |

Dear Sister

As a rose, 
ever so beautiful, 
ever so attractive 

Perhaps, more so, 
to wishy-washy, 
whimsical wanderers, 
than hearty-heady,
homeward-bounds 

Drawn to your vivacious, 
velvety beautiful petals
Only to leave it,
scratched and scarred
 
As a rose, 
ever so beautiful, 
and attractive
Perhaps, thorns for protection, 
must you have


For MQ


Details | Ode | |

sept 11 and heaven

as we commemorate the 10th anniversary of a  day we'll always remember
over three thousand lives taken on the eleventh day of September
but for the grace of God it might have been me 
to have been one of those lives taken away in the midst of that tragedy

life is a series of sequences and events that take place
and I know that as a child of Christ I'm living under His grace
at the time I had a job that was located in tower seven
but on that day I was in Brooklyn or I might have died and gone to heaven
safe in the borough of Kings working at the primary election polls
far away from the events that on New York took such a toll
the nation and the world were shook to their foundations
that anyone would dare to strike at the very heart of our nation
two airliners purposely driven into the World Trade Center Twin Towers
an attack on American soil in the early morning hours

and as I sit in church today on our annual Homecoming day
I reflect on the fact that many will never come home again
mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, co-workers, family and friends
and while I sit in this anointed pew
the awesomeness of the glory of God in me has been renewed
a day to remember as we share the communion of our Lord Christ
a day to also remember a day that forever changed our lives






Details | Ode | |

Hearts Heart Souls Soul

Heart's Heart; Soul's Soul I know Grief is a gift From you To start and Uphold The quest For myself. You say There’s light after The darkness, at your will. In both, I am yours and You are mine – My heart’s heart, Soul’s soul. Give me the strength To assimilate onto you Forever, Even if The darkness, Is never over.


Details | Ode | |

An Ode to Truth

Autumn approaches, as I grow long in tooth;
Seeking throughout my life, the existence of truth.
Answers elude me;
Questions ever more abound;
The absoluteness of right and wrong
never have I found.
Is there meaning in life?
Or should we just live it as it comes?
The answers are different, it seems, for everyone.

Now the end of my journey nears;
Though I approach it without fears;
Wondering if 
the beginning of the end
is really the end of the beginning, my friend.
Instead of seeking the truth,
I should have lived it instead,
and not let philosophical thoughts
clutter up my head.


Details | Ode | |

Life at a Glance

There are so many ways to say I Love You, however it seems more likely for 
people to say 
the hurtful words I Hate You. 

For so many things to be thankful, still there’s so many 
times we may appear ungrateful
Appreciate what’s been given, evolve in a life worth living. 
Overcome struggles be 
focused continue to stay driven

Do not settle for good enough. Be determined and go through the times of both 
the good 
and the rough. There’s no reason to be surprised know one ever said that Life 
wasn’t  tough
Anyone can achieve their dreams at the highest measure. It’s just a matter of 
how hard 
you work at it even if your starting at the bottom from there things can only get 
better
Weather the storms throw your burdens upon God he will never steer you wrong. 
He’ll 
never give you more than you can handle. If it seems overwhelming at times then 
God must 
know that your strong. Life decisions are split into two parts there should be no 
gray 
areas. It’s either this is right or this is wrong
Remember your not benefiting anyone by hiding you emotions in the dark. You’ll 
be 
hurting yourself eventually it will weigh heavy on your heart. In the long run it will 
end up tearing you apart
To be in love can make a world of difference it will change your daily routines
Everyday that passes by you won’t have the mind frame of It’s all about Me 
Relationships built around trust are strong. Relationships built around deception 
hardly 
ever last long. Commitment is the key not only with your love but in friendships as 
well 
as with your family
People will come in your life people will go. Where you will be in 10 years 
knowone 
really knows. Life’s about the unexpected the passer-by’s the up’s and downs 
the good 
the bad the times we laugh along with the times we cry. The questions the 
answers the 
times we ask why? The yes’s the no’s the rejections the goals. The beauty the 
disappointments the high’s and the lows. The losses the gains the continuous 
cycle of 
change
Life is what you make it out to be Do for others as you would want done for 
yourself 
Don’t involve  yourself in life’s mysteries Each person decides their own destiny 
and 
have written their own history
Cause and effect is the name of the game. You get what you’ve given therefore 
you only 
have yourself to blame
Your life’s a novel made of many characters plots climaxes and themes Don’t 
miss 
opportunities don’t ever give up on your dreams Continue to live life and be 
happy 
because life isn’t as bad as it sometimes may seem


Details | Ode | |

Pleasant Melancholy

It is symphonic
It is rhythmic
It tells a story,
of love and life,
of pleasure and pain, 
of joy and sadness;
a story of defeat and triumph

It is the invisible book
of the human experience
It has the power,
to move you,
to make you yearn for more,
of its delightfully painful, 
audible deliciousness

It can deliver you;
it can be your cry of deliverance
It is so mysterious; 
it could only be celestial

It straddles the emotions
quietly packing a punch,
but pulls it, only to suck you in 

When it hits,
it leaves no bruises
It knocks you out,
into the habitation of joy;
a relief from heaviness

It is transcendent;
a passport and transport, 
to the esoteric zone; 
the inner longing of the soul, 
warping the time in its wake,
at such a pace, 
that leaves you transported

It blows in,
from beyond the firmament,
riding the undulating,
invisible crests of space

It is copious in joyfulness,
filling the soulful emptiness; 
an aid to cope with the sorrowfulness
of humanness,
reaching deep into the soul,
soothing even the savage beast

It is infectious, but does no harm

It is delightfully musing;
rousing a deep satisfaction,
yet, in it, lies a deeper longing,
for something or somewhere,
fleetingly familiar, 
very present, yet very distant

Seemingly desiring to reconnect,
to something or somewhere,
enchanting, elusive, and disconnected

Shhh! Can you hear it? It is music! It is Jazz!


Details | Ode | |

Politics And Politicians

The good is evil and the evil is good;
The omen is clear,yet,no one reads,
The signal is up, still no one heeds,
There is but one use of power,
It is to save people,
But all we hear of power is trouble,
Everyone wants to get and use it,
They want to gain popularity,
Winning elections a neccesity,
Campaigns all exaggerations,
Their evil deeds no explanation,
Well-wishers they are yet to woo,
Birds chatter where they woo,
Birds chatter where they coo,
The desire to be famous is an attempt,
Forgetting that familiarity breeds contempt;
Speeches are delivered in lying tongues,
Manifestoes in dying souls,
People are suffering,children are dying,
Still,they're obstinate and blind,
Passing frrom deception to deception,
And to final illusion,
Host in the wonder of their own greatness.



Details | Ode | |

If only she could see

She's constantly a dreamer,
Fantasy is where she lives,
Reality is non existant to her,
If only she could see.
She only cares about superficial things,
Popularity is her sport,
Boyfriends are the cheerleaders,
If only she could see.
Her mind is put to waste,
A head as empty as a flower pot,
Education is lost on her,
If only she could see.
She makes fun of the "weirdos",
She cannot stand the "geeks",
But those "geeks" are worth knowing,
If only she could see.
The world is 3-D,
It has depth underneath,
There is beauty under the surface,
If only she could see.
Beauty is not just skin deep, 
It runss all the way through,
It's not just looks that matter,
It's how you think and see.


Details | Ode | |

My Idealism(or so I think)

I got my idealism Follies
From  our Mass Media that
seeks to show the ultra-modern
extravagances of today's super hip society

Too much Politics that is overtly fused
into my dimming Brain
Not interested in fighting the tide
There is nowhere to turn
Nor a sanctuary for myself to hide away

Dreams were simpler in my day
Let the Hair hange down and
say THE HELL WITH YOU
to the wiser but Elder generation in our times

It is not so easy now
A few years back
I have lost the angst
The youthful rage
This gap is becoming ever quite small
Turn to the children,
let them have it for now

The older we become
it is inevitably for certain
where to eventually travel
Beyond this frame of sphere

To believe in our culture's turmultuous lyrics
Put down the parents so we could party all the way
Jesus is a gentle man and a woman
They are not,however..an untidy rock band,looking for the gold

Some times,
When or wherever I compose my poetry
Thoughts will linger on the meaning meant for us all
Shocking realization to notice
We are adults now
in a world where the controls are getting slightly out of hand
The time is now to straighten out this quandry
Clean up our room
Get rid of our dirty laundry


Details | Ode | |

Bloody Time

Tick – another minute goes by…

Another calendar, another clock…
If I turn off all the noise, I can hear my heart beat…

That old empty sound…
The vast open array of life, seems to creep through my windows and guards my 
door…
In visions of yesterday, they came knocking and left a note, we’ll call back, signed, 
life…

Tock – It is nothing more than times passage…
It is but another lock that keeps me in this vision…
Separate in the knowledge of action, there is no place to call home…
Driven by the thirst to make the most of this cold place – I curl up in a quiet spot to 
view the hands of torment…

Tick – another minute goes by…


Details | Ode | |

An Ode to That Which is Given

I
Moby Dick is a classic, so I've been told
tried to read when was younger, tried to read when more old
chastised my own self severely each time
for not having interest in words so sublime.
II
Billy Budd caught attention
and Kafka might mention
Ayn Rand, Solzhenitsyn
rebellist penchant.
III
Don't care much for jewelry or bright shiny things
phone's likely to voice-mail when it ever rings
keepin' up with the Joneses unappetizing
introversion my given from generating.

Norms cramp my style more often than not
I don't watch tv thus have no clue what's hot
making up words when I need them is fun
inside I try fiercely to douse smoking gun.
IV
A gift this life given
sheer mystery resplendent
with wisdom, compassion and love
From whence came the spark
that lent life to dark?
Within without all the same heartbeat.


Details | Ode | |

NIGHT TERRORS

THE BOOGEYMAN WILL GET YOU-LOOK OUT!!
They have said that to me ever since I was a wee boy
Lurking under the sheets,in the closet,behind one's back
Especially at night when we are susceptible to  the vivid
imaginations of our peers' taunting ravings of Unmentionable
crawlers of the dark and fright
I would not sleep with the closet door half open to fill these
frightened pupils of what may hide behind
It would scare me out of my adolescent mind,to know that something
SINISTER would come from the shadows and SCARE me to death from behind
Every little boy or girl would be so sensitive to the Boogeymen stories that their 
elders or friends would tell them,how green and deathly evil their eyes can be 
when they look back at you.Is it purely imagination or something of a twisted and 
macabre sense of humor that our brothers and sisters would like to throw back 
at us..for kicks and thrills,Halloween night terrors of unimaginable thrills
When I was younger,the Man with a Forever Grin,would like to ridicule and 
terrorize me with his Devil-may-bite smile and assistant ghosties who would play 
along for the HELL of it.
I may be a grown man now,my friend,but whenever I pop a HALLOWEEN dvd in 
my player,the mind cannot help but recollect the pictures of Night Terrors that 
forever go bump in the night where I live..
I hope the same can be said of those same Vile screamers that terrorize us in 
the first place..give them a taste of their own WICKED medicine


Details | Ode | |

I came upon a THANKSGIVING night





                                                 I came upon a Thanksgiving night
                                               With a GOBBLE of presents in my hand
                                                Even though it is not yet SANTA
                                               November 23 is fine to celebrate both at one time
                                               The gift of Sharing is indeed mine to hand nice
                                               Before we say grace and have Turkey & rice
                                               Mother is here,cooking up the sauce
                                               Father,nearly ready..to cut that delicious Meat
                                               The World upon a Thanksgiving Meal
                                                Wandering but Wondering..When will the
                                               homeless receive their fair share,a deal
                                               They are strangers yet are part of our family
                                              To cherish as honest and bright
                                               Come into our home on this Thanksgiving delight


Details | Ode | |

FLIGHT OF THE POET

poet in flight
writing for a free airspace
keeping the seatbelt on
closing both of his eyes
to let the poem fly for itself

Every breath that i whisper
a single movement of the pen upon paper
giving takeoff from the runway of ideas and rhymes
no one would know who this poet truly be
he uses a 1000 different names to keep him silent and unknown

During this duration of poetic flight
He will write a sonnet or a narrative some night
to describe the feeling of floating away with the air
there aren't any typos nor mistakes to make the reader even care

Look around you at the space between the pen and the wind
Solly! it is so enticing and enchanted to be a Poet's Romantic
picturing the trees with the alphabet
coloring the sagebrush with just the right felt-tip pen

You,the reader,will notice for a time
the perfect serenity of this fable sublime
There aren't any Dirty words or imagery,my pet
to hover forever,near the 747 jumbo jet
Creating the space
Tracing with each Finger
The Flight of the Poet
whose ode to the old stanza will forevermore linger


Details | Ode | |

Common language

That language you speak,
the one you didn’t have to learn from anyone,
the very original, very human, yet very celestial one

The one you spoke to herald your arrival,
as you made entrance, from the celestial to the terrestrial,
into the gyrating life-sustaining starry metropolis,
amidst the cacophony of others, strange and different 

That language you spoke, 
in response, as you discovered,
that the strange looking beings all around you,
in your new and strange planet, speak it too, 
and as you explored the strange and funny artwork, 
on their mystical canvases, 
every time they spoke your language, 
any time they spoke another, 
that you did not understand

In smiling, laughing, weeping,
we speak a common language

Have you noticed?
They all speak it too;
all our kin, from every corner, 
of our spinning starry metropolis,
waltzing between one companion on the left, bright but shy
and the other on the right, dusty but flamboyant

It is a language so simple, 
anyone and everyone speak it and understand it,
yet so complex, it is encompassing; 
defying lexical boundaries, 
even terrestrial boundaries
Straddling the spectrum of emotions;  
even in the laughter expressing joy, 
the heart is sorrowful

It is the only language natural to us
We were made with it
It is simple but sufficient, 
to convey the emotions, 
that bound our consciousness

It is the language of humanity;
the language of pleasure, joy, happiness, and sorrow

Anywhere we come from,
every which way we come,
we speak the same language;
we smile, we laugh, we weep; 
in joy and in sorrow

The language reveals, 
our common and celestial origin;
our eternal bond,
our kindred, 
our oneness, 
our sameness

When spoken, we understand what is said,
we know what is meant, 
it is laughter, expressing joy,
it is weeping, expressing sorrow;
the outer limits, spanning our consciousness

So universal is it, it is mystical;
as mystical as our very existence
For the abundance of mirth,
gives birth to tears of joy,
yet joy awaits in tears,
the passing of sorrowful tears

Laughter and weeping, 
each awaits the other, 
but only to relieve each other 
and to bestow us reprieve

It is the universal language, 
spoken and understood, 
by you, me, and all our kin, 

It is the same, regardless of place and position
It is eternal, beyond terrestrial
It is celestial, it is universal


Details | Ode | |

Windows of our hearts

When we look, 
though the windows of our hearts;
you through mine, I through yours,
in symphonic simultaneity

When you look, 
into my eyes and I into yours
When we become attached, 
to each other,
by the double cord, 
of a connected gaze;
invisible and strong, 
as powerful as a current,
sweeping and penetrating 

We see the inhabitant, 
of the great expanse; 
the abode of the soul, 
called the heart

When he, the soul, 
wanders from home, 
away from the great expanse, 
of his abode,
we may see a fugitive inhabitant, 
occupying the great expanse, 
of his abode;
a chameleon; 
never true to its color,
a shape shifter; 
ever amorphous
 
But when he, 
the soul is home, 
filling the great expanse, 
of his abode, 
the aura of his majestic presence
shows us what he holds,
dear to heart,
and it is nothing, 
but goodwill  


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #40 / A pair of spectacles

A pair of spectacles
an unsharpened pencil
an eraser, pink, shaped like Tennessee
Which of these is truth?
Answer quickly or fall to hell!


Details | Ode | |

The Enchanted Foe

The Enchanted Foe 

She lurks in the garments of fugitive empathy,
Her abode is the refuge of burdened and bleeding souls

She is the sojourner in the sanctuary of sorrowful hearts 
Bewitching the bewildered and the bothered
Captivating the wounded and the confounded, 
the baffled and the bereft 

She saunters, seeking the soulful and the unsuspecting
She bathes, as the lids of wistful eyes, 
welling with tears, lent by the old croc,
silver rain from the cloudy face of the pretentious; 
blemished by invisible dirt

She craves the privy to your secrets 
She is nourished by your misfortune;
of which she makes music, 
grotesque but soothing to idle ears

Those who indulge her, 
become music to idle ears
Her instrument is the tongue,
Supine and slyly wagging

Ever a friend in need, 
never a friend in deed
Can’t help, but break aching hearts

She is the enchanted foe, 
rich in libelous lyrics;
grisly but gripping

If her song delights your ears,
it is given, you are a chorus; 
delighting idle ears


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #206 / Icee

Mmm, Icee
it’s so
icy
so icy


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #236 / Buddy Cianci

Buddy Cianci! He’s
the people’s mayor!
“That shark! Haha!
Reminds me of my opponents over the years!”
He dances with the old folks!
He kisses the pig!
He poses with the married couple!
He lets no crack appear in his façade
even on the day his lover of nine years
is married in Barbados!
He is impregnable!


Details | Ode | |

Friends & Pizza

Tonight we celebrate and toast
the kindness of our loving host
I do not mean to brag or boast
but we’ll enjoy this yummy roast!

The onions sliced, the mushrooms diced
and thrice the crushed red pepper dashed
inside the oven crust does rise
and crisps and browns upon the racks

Half an hour we do laugh
and drink to our shared memories
no one could feel the moments pass
until we heard the timer beep

The air smells warm! The moment’s nigh!
Let’s slice the pizza into pieces!
Together, let’s enjoy the taste of life
until the light within us ceases!


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #46 / Plastered posters

Plastered posters up on dividers
laminated and preserved for generations
of students, marching by filing
nameless the years, uncounted
the numbers


Details | Ode | |

stoney mae

children threw stones
at the steel-gated doors
and ran
laughing at eyes
peeking from tattered shades
the white picket fence
seemed odd in this sub-division

ivy encircled the weather-worn frame
wrapping around the smokeless chimney
covering the dirty window panes
on the house at the corner
of sycamore and elm

her only company
was a cat named puddin
a dog named mr. krum
a parrot she tried to teach
without success
to say
"stoney mae"

dry leaves left from last year's fall
cluttered the yard
along with bottles, cans
and bits of paper
tossed absent-mindedly
by an uncaring society

she shopped early in the morning
mostly for her pets
hiding behind a large straw hat
a black wool shawl
and ragged gloves
she plucked from a neighbor's 
unwanted garbage

some called her crazy
others whispered "mad"
as they passed the shade drawn 
darkened house
that made a sunny day sad
which seemed odd
in this tiny sub-division

it was on one of these bright sunny days
the neighbors made a decision
that had had enough of stoney mae
and wanted her out 
of their quiet sub-division
standing outside of her steel-gated door
they knocked and banged
there was no answer
no sad eyes peeking from the tattered shades
someone turned the knob
pushed opened the door 
which was never locked
a foul, rancid odor escaped to the outside
neighbors pushed to see inside
holding their noses

the shade was pulled up
sunshine filled the room
mouths stjood gaped
faces filled with dismay
just underneath the window 
lay puddin and mr. krum
the parrot was perched
on the body of a woman
chanting
stoney mae! stoney mae! stoney mae!


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #43 / Centripetal force

Centripetal force of a
whirling waterbottle, captured in it
the tornado of our youth
and reflecting a goofy smile.
Dare you say centrifugal?
Dare you graze the edge of a sharpened sword?


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #26 / Joseph the christ figure giraffe bookmark

Joseph the Christ figure giraffe bookmark
wooly resents that penultimate comment
and tells me whut
“ALL NEW MATERIAL. CONFORMS”
Of what does he speak? What madness?
“TO TOY SAFETY REGULATIONS”
The turning phrase!
A thousand old Buddhas stand speechless!


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #76 / Crisp snow

Crisp snow falls on the mountaintop
glorious and regal, the whole
universe gravitates towards him
and he sees it all clearly!


Details | Ode | |

Piece











                                        We are quiet when the poetry comes out of us
                                       To not utter a word but just typing what inspires
                                       The A B C's in the rhyme
                                       Are of a scheme that lnks Story with a purpose to 
                                      open the eyes of many who may be blind
                                      syllables 
                                      pronouns
                                      adjectives
                                      It does not matter to the order or style of the individual
                                      If the desired artistry or expression is intended by
                                      the pen of the author
                                      Poems interwine between humor,life,and death
                                      They are the piece of our hearts
                                      What we feel in our souls
                                      For each verse
                                      there is a line or more that becomes identifiable
                                     not only to the poet but to the reader,as well
                                     Do not despair if we are not  yet recognized
                                     for what our writings in Poetry are all about
                                     It only matters in the Poet's own Dreams 
                                     in Ballad
                                     or of Sonnets
                                     TAKE THIS PIECE,MY FRIEND
                                     MAY IT SERVE YOU WELL


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #211 / Nancy Wilson #3

Nancy Wilson! Nancy Wilson!
“There’s the Girl” I went after, and 
I cannot say that I don’t want her anymore!
She left me “Stranded”! “Things” 
a’int what they used to be! “I’m [not] Fine”!
“These Dreams” go on when I close my eyes!
“Will [she] be there (in the morning)”?
yes, she whispers, yes


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #27 / Golden lion tickly softhair

Golden lion tickly softhair
Oh! To have a mane like that
I’ll throw away my razor


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #32 / Crazy physicist

Crazy physicist! So, you can
put a man on the moon?
Ooh! I have a new problem!
Calculate the trajectory of my soul
as it leaves my body!


Details | Ode | |

A cherished book

The best books have a little
love in them. Whether it be
a taped spine or a
half-creased cover
a forgotten dog-ear or
a few margin-scribbles
a browning of the pages
or perhaps a signature
the more time a book spends
in the company of men
the better it learns how to tug
at their heartstrings.


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #52 / An emerald eye

An emerald eye is painted on the starry wall
a wink, rogue kiss of the misty eyes
Oh! Your brown eyebrows are so thin,
your love so smooth
crush me into paper, and
glue me to your world


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #47 / Upon the emptied blackboards

Upon the emptied blackboards
chalkdust yet remains,
smeared, the work of a
thousand problems, minds behind each,
even the blue message of a
young lady waving goodbye.


Details | Ode | |

Donovan

The moment you were born I knew,
I would never love someone like I love you,
You looked at me with those big blue eyes,
More beautiful and blue than the brightest skies,
I never thought I could love someone I just met so much,
So tiny and so perfect, you looked too fragile to touch,
Nobody has ever needed or loved me as much as you,
I love everything you are, everything you do,
You've done nothing but bring me happiness and joy,
And I am the Proudest Mother in the world to call you
My Baby Boy


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #36 / Scratches on the jewel surface

Scratches on the jewel surface
of a black onyx watch
tiny hands tick endlessly around
now seven, now eight, now ten
Can you break the cycle?


Details | Ode | |

Damned Yankees

I could smell the ballpark in my glove
Lose myself in the crooked sky above
Hear the roar of the crowd in my bat
Oblivious to your epitaph called stats
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

So you bought a curse named Ruth
Not to mention 26 Octobers to boot
Did you do it to spite this game
Integrity sold for the price of fame
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

You built a cathedral from which to boast
Helped the Babe exorcise Gehrig’s ghost
Buried Maris beneath a Mantle of shame
Sleeping with a bottle and two dames
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Joltin Joe swinging that Marilyn clout
The mighty Casey you struck out
Too old for a springtime affair
Welcome Jeffrey Maier
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Three times a charm in the Bronx zoo
Reggie’s knockin them out, Billy too
Who needs a bookie if you have a boss
You can bet you’re fired after a loss
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

Beware the seduction of pinstripe sin
Immortalized by Jeter’s cocky grin
Four more pennants in five years time
Selling out is winning’s soul crime
Dreaming a dream, called baseball
 
But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I say
Damn Yankees

So tell me George, when will it end
Is 200 million a salary cap or a trend
If it’s a general manager you seek
I hear the Devil comes real cheap
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken from me
From an evil that does not sleep
Forgive me if I pray
Damned Yankees

I could smell the ballpark in my glove
Lose myself in the crooked sky above
Hear the roar of the crowd in my bat
Oblivious to your epitaph called stats
Dreaming a dream, called baseball


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #49 / The voicebox of God

In the corner the voicebox of God
lies silent except at 10:10 every morning
the pledge, the announcements, the moment
of silence, now his muted mouth
frowning silent disapproval.
What does He know of mortal strife?


Details | Ode | |

THE BEAUTY OF THE DARK

Just now the sun is set
Leaving behind a blank cloud
Then another scene evolves
Alerting the nocturnal world
To the clarion call
A world gloomily and dimly lit
For the brightness of albino’s lens
And the sharpness of bats’ and rabbits’ sight
And a host of nocturnal beings’ activities
Then, also signals the concert
Of the croaky and coarse ones
Down in the muddy arena

And without the dark beauty
Giving our world a spreadsheet
That parades array of stars
The sky playing host to million of
Galaxy guests from the Milky Way
Which cast men spellbound
With their splendor and grace
That lit up our world abright and aglow
And give us a view
That of the upper storey
Whispering wordlessly
Of the little wonders of creation.__________


Details | Ode | |

An Ode to the Mundane

I look towards a summers day,
And see it in an awkward way.
Not real, it fancies to impress,
But leaves you with an emptiness.
Not so Mundane, it aims to please,
And tends to fulfill all your needs.
No worrying or need to rush,
It leaves a sort of mindful hush.
To sit and contemplate your fate,
It gives you time to just relate.
Sitting in a world so true,
Not planning the next thing to do.
So stop your running all about,
Mundane will help release all doubt.
Of who you are and why you’re here,
Without exasperating fear.
And in a while you’ll start to show,
The others what it means to Know.
So focus on the little things,
You might just get a pair of wings.


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #50 / A shimmering arc of whiteness

A shimmering arc of whiteness spreads its
eagle wings, overarching and embracing
the sky, soaring into the sunset
If you were not perfect, I would
run after you, down to the seashore, splashing,
yawping to the tops of heaven till breathless,
“TAKE AWAY MY DESIRES!”


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #25 / This pen

This pen, solid black opaque void
spills out its inky soul for me
so I can decant my own
Thanks, pen, you are Christ Almighty
I will call you Hector


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #212 / Alice Cooper

Alice Cooper!
Wait, you’re not Nancy Wilson!
You have no Heart!
You’re not even a woman!
Ah, but you are wafting through my radio!
And you are quite clever!
I wish I could have seen you
when you came to Knoxville
Scary!


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #45 / Scribbles

Gray scribbles scratched into black desks
the pent-up hatred of a thousand fiery days
J.Y.’s work is lost, but his rage
radiates and multiplies in our quiet moments


Details | Ode | |

grandPA

He was sitting on the front step of the old family home
Agnes departed,a month ago,to a more "heavenly" destination
But ,everytime  a photograph of her begins to come into view
The expression ,of such a lonely apparent  ,does not,as yet,
understands what he can plaintively do,to ease the sorrow and a Heart..quietly 
beating and a brief little sigh..

..while looking upward and gently starts to cry

George,a wise sage at 75, is in temporary hibernation
The children are grown and have moved out,a great distance since
He watches the neighborhood fondlings,hurriedly running home
from the old schoolyard,where he used to play,about 60 or so,passing Autumns 
ago
As the babies hop and skip,Grandpa George stands up to shake his hip
and whispering,ever so softly to himself:

"If only the Internet and Web sites had existed  back then,
I would have gotten a B+ or maybe an A"

Such reminisces can be,at such turmultuous times,too much
for even a grandparent to bear
But,the truth can also be beautiful:

Just clear the mind and let ,the folliage of today,into your Spring
and early Summer:

"Mother would have approved at this canvas that I do paint with
the brushes that are kept on the tray,in the farthest corner of my Mind"

Today,
the fanciest of Beamers or a Television plasma continue to disturb our vision's 
resources
Impel us to heavy weight and true Nature does her best to replicate and we are 
tuned to AMERICAN IDOL,sitting lazily to contemplate

This Man of an earlier age,
still sitting on the front step
Staring,obtusively,toward the Milky Light
and calling to Mama:

"Someday,my sweet..I will return to you,forever onto the Night..
our hands,together,with the Angels,humming our Wedding Day hymn
with our majesty's blessing and just a dab of poetry's write


Details | Ode | |

The Stage

the night is cold and the wind blows high,
clouds are drifting in the moonless sky,
dogs are howling in the midnight hour,
the rich man sleeps by the candle.

the clown is dancing not knowing why
he who laughs is the one who will cry,
the stage is set for all his grief,
his is the night like a thief.

while the beggar shouts for mercy
with voice weak sounding so empty,
the king and queen are happy,
they are amused by the gypsy.

the tearful joker dances and sings,
he who came to entertain the kings;
showing things that he does not feel,
falling down on his knees to kneel.

the young princes shout for more,
unmindful of the hungry poor;
they just laugh and they sigh,
they do not hear the people cry.


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #48 / Til;es of remembrance

Tiles of remembrance of classes
long past, replacing blankness
painted handprints and colors and smiles
spanning the length of the ceiling, forever
reserved for the posterity of wandering eyes.
How glorious the sunset! Our days unforgotten!


Details | Ode | |

Untitled #44 / Thin

Plug it in! Pump it up!
Thin as a razorblade, the device
turn back and look at other lost people
and KILL/SHUN