in the pre-dawn hours
tears fall from a needy soul
pangs of emptiness
April 23, 2025.
I woke up one morning,
To the barren of trees.
The sky was blue,
yet the silence screamed.
What was it that made winters so dry?
So cold, so blue, so lost of life.
The snow burried dead beneath,
The trees cried their leaves away,
The birds hiding in fear from the rest,
The world only led astray.
Who was it who brought life after this death?
Who was it who brought spring after winters birth?
Let them all die and die in silence.
Let them all slide and slip away from violence.
He bought the barren island for $13,000
Together with a friend, they planted 16,000 trees
For 40 years, the island turn into a sanctuary
Of insects, flowers, birds and tortoises which became
Famous and well known throughout the country
He turned down offer being a news editor and settled
The rest of his whole life living in the island
He manage the island well and made it
An important place in his private life
The island grow well with his own management
The Saudi prince want to buy the island for $10 million
But he refuses the offer for personal reason
Until, one day he announced and open it to the public
The island became an important tourist destinations
People flocked and flourished the island
He died with old age in the island
The country declared the island as a National Park
In lieu of his stated Last Will.
I am the tundra barren cold and numb
A frozen wasteland where no light can reach
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
In icy silence where no whimpers humb
My thoughts like glaciers grind, erode, and breach
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
The Amazon within once vital thrumb
Of life and hope now withers out of reach
Between these poles my insatiate self-succumbs.
Anxiety a howling blizzard's sumb
Entombs me deep a creature bleached of speech.
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
Depression creeps permafrost of my slumb
While echoes of lost joy my soul beseech
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
Yet in this waste, where all seems overcome
A seed of strength cracks ice defies the leech
I am the tundra, barren, cold, and numb.
Between these poles, my insatiate self-succumbs.
Years delivered my mind, from the shadows left behind,
Darkest calamity, sucking me into the tragedy,
Feeling less like the dream I chased, like the darkness of disgrace.
Soundless images roar through my soul, creating fear, so out of control, while my heart beats, rhythmic, like the colors of woe, lifeless stillness, in the empty room where I go…
To remember the joy, the readiness, the yearning
Breath of a prayer, still burning, through my memories, as they seek to see, through me – the honesty, confessing,
To the need, the need – the seed, who was once buried in me, a piece of me, but, only for a time before life decided….
To remind me, most eloquently, where I once yearned for the blessing, - baby, child, newborn life,
Someone who would be mine – to love…
Now, the empty room remembers, as the still, cool September,
Blazes with crisp, vibrant leaves, imagining the beauty who I will never see.
In me, there is a need who’ll never find relief,
A need to reach into that empty room, see the sweetness of a cure,
For the harsh reality, who is the cloud of infertility!
Written: May 26 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dark, drizzling recesses that pulse and flow.
A nebulous haze of nothingness, a sad show.
With rasping tears of seabirds, in silent cries.
They uncover comfort in various forlorn sighs.
Horizon depicts a snapshot of dreary gray.
Raven rainbows trance in barren dismay.
Why are you grieving, my wounded heart?
Why are you missing vivid spring impart?
Birds in scarlet, saffron, and cyan hues,
Glorious in the skies, so ariose views.
Yet, time slips by and you head away
Remote star casts me out of abyss sway.
I maunder amid dry gloom, forlorn and alone.
Chuckles echo across my passing groan.
In grief of shorebirds, I learn of my plight.
As I long for your arrival with all my might.
But hope lingers, akin to a glimmer at night.
We will return one day in a pure love light.
I will wait for that juncture, my soul ever true.
In bleak wilderness, memories will renew.
A pair of dark crystals gaze
in a sea of white innocence
The bright light's a wisdom ablaze
Unlike anything in the dark familiar
Five laces of warmth enclose
mine like red petals of rose
And the silk of air flutters with life
There is another heart to caress and guide
Suddenly the ticking is loud
Every moment takes time to feel proud
For none gets closer to man's fragility
Than seeing a new form begin to breathe
'It's a boy' a voice quivers -
The voice of a tearful mother
She's thrilled to have another call her 'mother' at nights
She's come past a history of five lives' demise
So I cradle very gently
Could cotten feel too coarse?
Even a light form becomes heavy
When he makes a girl feel less alone
'Welcome, little cousin'
I whispered in his ear
In return he just grinned
before it all disappeared
One day he will know,
how to smile and what it means
For there are several dozen folks
Who will call themselves his family!
Not till the last forest’s flattened on earth,
The last few drops drip down no more nor leak,
Till crawling deserts daunt, the lands look bleak,
The last river’s all bare from very birth,
And last well on Earth's barren breast drys out,
Man’s greed gets never gratified in full,
Till stark nude earth’s all left there’s for this fool,
Humanity hangs in despair-filled doubt.
He stares still— Nature hanging on last thread,
The will of Mother Earth all but wilted,
Most of world’s precious snow all nigh melted,
And coastal seas advance with unknown dread.
What next? Till tortured Earth’s barren like Moon,
I doubt still, man gets wise any time soon.
_______________________________________
Sonnets |01.01.2010, revised June 2023|
The barren landscape it once was
Now has craters and paths
The blandness it once held
Now has colors across the land
The barren landscape it once was
Is not barren anymore
Blood – rich whispers of crimson,
Like flames melting the feelings
beliefs alive, grief that spelled
Out the word – I n f e r t i l e
Infertility wrenched beauty from my life,
Erasing the stars from the night,
Darkening my heart – but I survived
Yes, I remember
I was young one day,
Yearning, aching – praying
Begging for one smile from a baby,
A smile that told me I’d been right…
Love would- love could save me
Yet, I remember
The nights, sleepless and silent,
Biding my time, tears
Flowing to remind me why
I couldn’t know the beautiful
Beneath eyes that shined
With a child’s love, a child’s adoring
Blood – dark and crimson,
Pouring out the hope, the anticipation
Pregnancy never came to me,
The girl who worried about never knowing
Throughout history, the giggling glory
Childish antics and childhood joys
I never will know the love that might have been
Mine if fate had brought to life, from my womb
The soul of an infant, a smile that sent me
From solitary confinement to the jungles of beautiful
O barren one, sing out, break forth in song!
Prepare a room, no, add a wing to host
the children that you’ve waited for so long!
Your offspring will inhabit every coast!
Lift your sweet face, o spurned, deserted, scorned!
Let go your indiscretions of the past.
For I, the Lord of Hosts, have you adorned,
and tightly, with compassion, hold you fast!
O city, desolate in smoldering waste,
your rebuild has commenced this very hour!
Your enemies are routed, flee in haste,
for I, the Lord will stand watch in the tower!
Recline, put off your burdens and abide;
come all who thirst, drink deep, be satisfied!
(from Isaiah 54)
----------
I originally wrote this as a sonnet, but entered it into a contest with the last two lines expanded to a quatrain and classified it as a lyric. Trying to collect all my sonnets together, so I'm adding the original...
Those who crown themselves with miters and croziers
Are dry and barren canals to which I shall describe
Boats remain frozen in their abandoned and void place
The waters being a simulacrum of doctrines
Only the arid wind gives a sense of forward time
The bubbling and fizzing spring they cut from themselves
Those who pass by recognise there is nothing to drink
Only worms and serpents live within the canals
Their waters of void do not show heaven’s face above
No vision of sparkling angels appears anywhere
Nor can people see their face on the canals
Behold the crown jewels of those called servants and watchers
Inspired by this verse "Those people are dry canals." from The Apocalypse of Peter:
http://www.gnosis.org/naghamm/apopet.html
I have heard of a Stanford Warren,
Who chose to live in lands barren,
Self submitting to predicament;
It was simply not God’s Commandment.
Warren tags it Rich Self-Denial
And swears “Decision is final!”
By full choice “Rock of Gibraltar’
“You can’t me change from your altar!”
Was he after A Transformation:
Out testing some dropped information?
Former neighbor: multi-millionaire
Former best friend stinking billionaire
He’d tried a fact-finding questionnaire
The First had slept in a dust bin,
The Second long punished his skin…
And to Fifty-Year-Old Warren
His surest bet: lands badly barren!
My heart was like a barren land,
deprived of being loved and loving emotions
that could quench my drought of loneliness.
Thorny bushes of doubt and despair
pricked me day and night,
leaving me helplessly to bleed pain.
It all changed when you came in my life
like heavy monsoon; raining adoration.
Light of your sunny smile, your warm embrace,
showers of your dewy kisses
tended my heart with care and kindness
into a full bloomed garden of love.
At the core of my heart is our secret arbour
where our souls take shelter to enjoy
as each blossom unfolds hidden pleasure
with fragrance of romance and nectar of love
for us to partake as much we could.
It's an ultimate jouissance - quest of every lover.
08/10/2022
Note: LOVE is the primary emotion I chose to write this poem.
For the contest (Strong Emotions Poetry Contest) by Emile Pinet.
Placed *Tenth*
Beneath the land of frothy cloud and azure sky
Earthlings of the most diverse kinds still enthrall
Like summer winds from breezes to monsoons
And all their stony statures like statues stand erect
To remind us humans we are so loathe to change
Like granite stones having formed into planets
Except fewer still that burned in vast eons past
Far above the land of frothy cloud and azure sky
‘Tis well to remember how moves the roaring tide
Shore-to-shore casting pebbles on a barren beach
Written July 20, 2022
[another experiment in
stream of consciousness]
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