Best Accumulations Poems
Now and then, quietly without notice,
Time adjusts its spectacles—
Peers through a fogged pane of recall
Where particulars, once urgent, dissolve.
If now and then you find rain in your heart,
be assured it is scheduled—
a punctual drizzle of consequence,
not passion, but the persistence of memory
in its bureaucratic overcoat.
It’s all because of you,
the file states plainly:
signed in duplicate, sealed in dust.
No redress required—
only the courteous nod to causality.
The aged—those quaint accumulations—
become, in the end, detours.
Not disliked, precisely,
but excessive to the route:
a bench beneath ivy, seldom occupied.
So live out your days with decorum.
Attend the rituals of silence.
Polish your small routines.
Let time, that sly curator,
catalogue your exit in amber.
Categories:
accumulations, introspection, memory, old, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
With women the heart argues, not the mind.
MATTHEW ARNOLD, Merope
1. The stand of old growth Melalucas, graces the lowlands of our farm.
For over fifty years, accumulations of leaves have formed small soft islands.
“With selective clearing,” my husband says, "larger areas of grassland will grow.
More grazing for the cows and less hay we’d need to buy in Winter."
Inwardly, I lament, not wanting to lose the beauty of these trees
with branches that rise like huge broccoli bunches against bright blue skies.
My husband, much harder, by necessity, over-rules my sentiments.
2. Conveniently, earth-moving machines appear early on the first day
of the New Year. They cut a long swathe
but on the dam are left a large row, marked by me,
for sanctuary.
They cast reflections on the still water.
3. The felled trees are piled into rough heaps. Prophetically, the car
of the Inspector for Primary Industries appears.
“You must know, these are protected trees.”
He asks for permits (not granted) and orders a ‘cease and desist.’
His scowling looks are an indictment.
4. For months the operation was on hold
and, then the rains came and the floods—almost our undoing.
Flocks of water-birds occupied the flats, nesting on the islands
formed by the grassy hummocks. When these waters receded,
an overgrowth of young melalucas sprouted, where the old trees
had once stood. A network of roots underground had signaled
a catastrophe. New nodes erupted along all the root-ways.
Dumbly they announced their guardianship of the swampy land.
“Give us back to time,” they said , but the un-relenting slasher
leveled them again, so grass could grow.
5. I go back into my house now, secretly pleased the trees are speaking.
The topaz flames from the fireplace, warm my bones.
The hoary frosts have come. The envelope containing the D P I’s
decision waits on the mantel shelf, propped by a row of grazing, ceramic cows.
From the window I see our cows enter between the Melalucas.
They graze on the new growth pasture.
I warm my hands, as the flames lick firewood.
The scent from Melaluca smoke haunts me.
Suzanne Delaney
365 words
Categories:
accumulations, angst, confusion, environment, nature,
Form:
Free verse
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,
The House support itself
And cease to recollect
Emily Dickenson.
Queen of Heaven
Give me faith!
Ground me!
Tell me the sky will not fall in
the earth at my feet will
not give way- pray,
shelter us- mankind and me
from crazy predatory frenzy
Defend us from all destructive forces
Foster love of beauty, altruism-
generosity to our cores; a search
for grander possibilities
Teach us the solemn value of history
Keep us true to form, intuitive
imaginitive, instinctive
Attuned to the importance of
self- limiting responses
Not innocent in self delusion
Not virtuous for virtue's sake
Unique and irreplacable
Never notorious, false hearted
or didactic
No! not the sum of trivial
accumulations
Not the collection left behind,
of usesless irrevelancies;
objects beyond human memory
No! it must be us
Abiding echoes
of breath caught in wonder
Suzanne Delaney
Categories:
accumulations, beauty, identity, prayer,
Form:
Free verse
TALKING TO AN ELEPHANT IN A TREE
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I was stunned this morning saw an elephant in a tree
Motioning, trumpeting, hey, please come talk with me
Tell me please, how in the world did you get up there ?
You sentenced me to this place since you don’t care
About the poor, disabled, aged and the mentally ill
As long as your coffers are to the brim filled
What are you doing sitting in a tree all alone ?
Observing the madness that mans greed has sown
So tell me, how long have you sat there all alone ?
Been in this tree, lets see, since man started to own
He started out, simply gathering a few pretty stones
Then others joined causing clashes and undertones
Accumulations of objects brought about some envy
Then suddenly another accumulator became an enemy
The possession of objects then became an addiction
To own n amass fortunes was the common ambition
You haven’t progressed much since those early days
Accumulating, not letting anything, escape your gaze
Initially you were crude, a quick strike to the head
Now more sophisticated: you lend money instead
The strong rule the weak, the smart run the show
It’s the same tunes and libretto where ever you go
Crescendoes will be reached then the bubble pops
Chaos will ensue, when the music stops
I see more and more elephants sitting in trees
Dominating the landscapes causing sages ill ease
Elephants becoming impatient, angry, sitting in trees
Malcontention has no remedy, with which to appease
I noticed each time I visit; the elephant gets bigger
His continued bloating will eventually trigger
A destructive insurrection against the status quo
Possessions, worthless, when there’s no place to go
Categories:
accumulations, angst, corruption, history, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
ONCE HAD IS NOT A PROPERTY
Few are looking for what many got that I had
Much effort is a necessity as success is a work hard
Some few are looking for a shortcut; heard failure is a bad
Some rather than stress themselves beyond limit they hope on dad
First class became a requisite to get on the bench of elites; we read so mad
Struggling to make the best of results to get on that bench; 4.5 up is not hard
Two years on of great tidings; and our levels was busy beefing up to the points
On that very long awaited day of reckoning; we listened for the benchmark points
To our dismay; our cumulative grade points accumulations was no longer on point
It became so obvious to all that we had it before is no longer a property on point.
All men are born equal but not a guarantee to be the same
She chose son over father; the shrink said mother is insane
Now the confession; you are the son of your brother that is my son
What a calamity! If am the son of my brother, my father is whose son?
Sometimes lie can be better than the very truth that will stare at us
Let someone break the mirror for the truth it carries mockingly hurt us
This family once had a moment they thought will sustain them forever
Now in chaos and family havoc; incest with a curse they hope won’t last forever
As of the beginning from the family diary there was peace and understanding
Walls closed in now; they had it before is no longer a property of understanding.
Looked everywhere; even the very intellectual four walls of the dictionary
For the meaning of what happened that wasn’t fore-told by the visionary
Father wrote his last will and gave it to our family lawyer the other week
This week; he is dead and my name was nowhere to be found even in one sheet
This amazes everyone; mother couldn’t believe it for there was only one me
Let there be heaven for next time; I rather go to hell now than let this injustice be
As the son and the only child of his father I could only give the best I could give
The very sand in our house will testify if none would that it was exactly what I did
Didn’t get a judgement in court; the judge said it is my right but now was my right
Unfortunate; I was supposed to have it all is not at all a property that is my right.
Lordvip...
Categories:
accumulations, loss, father, son, family,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Materialism
Narrows
One's
Perspective
Quantitatively
Reflecting
Selfish
Tyrannical
Unhinged
Actions, Ambitions & Accumulations
Categories:
accumulations, humanity, perspective,
Form:
ABC
Tomorrow’s another day, when
this present is dead and done
In reality one rotation, on
earths path around the sun
The position can be calculated,
but what lies in store unknown
Our planet’s measurable, not
unpredictable like skin and bone
And what happened in the past,
ripples on through today
Unnoticed in black space,
random events still come our way
Set forth in motion, from an
indivisible speck of creation
Seeded is life, seeded is death,
seeded by quantum vibration
Does evolution even matter,
is what we see, what we get
A generation tries find purpose,
then hands over to the next
Accumulations of knowledge,
with caveats of past mistakes
Our monkey business perhaps,
one condition we cannot shake
Are we simply apex animals,
who developed higher brains
Beasts of untold genius, primal
instinct runs through our veins
Intelligence driving us mad,
at odds with ethics and morals
A fixation on mortality, conflicts
of minds causing quarrels
What is consciousness, from
which dimension do we view
Electric signals in our heads,
or cosmic portals seeping through
Wherever this source comes from,
and nobody knows for sure
So many gods and theories,
small wonder life’s obscure
Cryptic forces build reality,
but not readily understood
Dark energy, Higgs fields,
the shape of Genomes in our blood
Crucified by curiosity, because
of our advanced minds
Is the price of being too clever,
really just making us blind
What brings manifestation,
should we look for reason at all
Why not sheer oblivion, how
come an infinite large and small
Born to die is simple, living
forever way too complex
Does truth lie in the medium,
where chosen ones intersect
Where are you Jesus
Where are you Muhammad
Where are you God
Where are you Buddha
Where are you Allah
I’m wide awake,
in this land of nod
By
David Kavanagh
Categories:
accumulations, allusion, creation, humanity, life,
Form:
Rhyme
"On the ocean waves" of deep cobalt blue
Rides white foam spray that brushes rocky shore
Tickles their fantasy leaves in quick spew
After has caused such unusual roar
Rocky shore, rocky times life gives damp sprays
Coating everyone with uncertainties
Just as the rocks wear and age_ life assays
Each one to analyze the quantities
Of good_bad giving opportunities
To all to grow deeper like blue ocean
Deeper than surface waves _deep abilities
Just few minutes each day in devotion
"On the ocean waves" ride thoughts_emotions
Let them be deeper accumulations
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: "On The Ocean Waves"
Categories:
accumulations, nature, life, ocean,
Form:
Sonnet
Prana
Cloudy blue stretches itself with grey yellow beams
the faint moon in observation as it seems
salty fragrance by captured firmament
ocean of Prana in living breath of decadent
realms of light by conscious vision
timeless dreams condition
keeper of wishing surreal
affirmation towards joyous appeal
scoping from the holy nectar in advance
penetrating the subtle immune by dance
unchangeable seasons in eternal bound
testament of loving virtue found
significant in identification
precious model of relation
existence all beyond
invisible correspond
frequencies in tune
entities of soul in body to prune
particles of the divine all
personality so small
chained by fears of needs
accumulations of poor deeds
dharma prana karma
happenstance by reasons drama
melodies by heart solution
celestial light conclusion
blessings of evolution
Categories:
accumulations, 12th grade, metaphor, symbolism,
Form:
Ballade
ancient hope
a moderately heavy mass of emergent winds, kick up sleeping debris from the surrounding space, spreading its floating carpet, singing in concert with sultry wings, humid and upwardly ascending, gathering behind it a light dusty snow shower of bitter loess, of tiny things, the soil of flesh sinew and bone, of cause and effect, of ages that have fallen away, echoing, buried deep within, far-flung fading cries, silently settling low.
herein lies a prehistory of things, events unknown, slurried in imagination, untenable, sure of almost nothing, the strata of movement, upheaval in reverse motion, nature singing its eternal cry, cyclic, a randomness in chaos builds to a crescendo of brilliant flashes, all photon- energetic, where mineral flotsam radiates outward forming obscure patterns, falling in space, finding place as if by intrinsic design, where oh where is that idiomorphic template not seen?
of wandering magi, of fading sand trails, of swollen feet and the everlasting verve that tugs at the heels, pushing one forward to that acid moment, strangled in the dust of vanity, crawling to the utmost height where the fall of sands, grain on grain, restate their inability to bond fast, washing over and out into the depths where a proto-historic humility silently sleeps covered, quiet and alone.
there are tools in the heart of the earth, a broadband principle of collective accumulations, scattered here and there, everywhere, no obvious settlement map; the white noise as drone amongst the minerals and biologic debris, commingling with an earnestness to bond further afield, scaffolding across great divides, as time shrivels with movement, hampering the curious eye of they who search within, the inquisitive nose sniffing up musty ridden time, the cranky deposits pay no attention, their work is done.
Categories:
accumulations, change, creation, endurance, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Spring rises and is reborn
with a warm, glowing morning sun.
May apples, marsh daisies, wild purple, yellow and white violets
peek from the earth with round glossy greens and flowers.
Wild scallions, stretch tall and gangly, feathering the air
as the scent of onions wafts through newly cut grass.
Birds sing and seek a mate
then gather leaves, dry grass and twigs
for nesting softness for new laid eggs.
March winds gust freely from soft to subtle breezes
as April rains imbibe the dry brown earth.
Summer ventures back and forth on the sidelines,
hot and burning to lead prolific days
spewing vegetation, nature and humankind as they wait.
Life draws in the sun
and perspiration flows.
It splashes frolicking in the orange, red sun
failing to be chilled or cooled
as activity and growth spurt forth.
Summer stretches May to June,
then July to August and September,
The calendar, no longer true to its flow
lingers on through Indian summer
cool yet warming October.
A scene of awesome palette colors displayed
rising bold and brazen before an ice blue sky.
The trees of autumn appear in softly blushing colors
to November and December bleeds of hues
peaches, oranges, apple reds and umbers
Chrysanthemum, asters and blooms
bid farewell and a last summer goodbye to fall.
Winter drops down, released by a cold, north wind
that freezes what remains at the change of seasons.
Barren, naked trees and empty gardens
bland the once lavished earthen shades.
Prior months now fade away
hardened by December and January chills
prepping for the New Years snow
It lags January into February
bringing accumulations of ice and snow.
Everything sleeps, resting
huddled low in earth and home
waiting patiently for spring to return.
Categories:
accumulations, seasons, new years day,
Form:
Free verse
in the book of Luke there's a reference that's mentioned
a disclosure of the boy named Jesus and His future intentions
He had been chosen to wear the Jewish crown upon His head
and attend to His Father business, a destiny spirit-led
the teenage boy Jesus, the Adolescent Christ
understood at an early age He had a true mission in life
born to the carpenter Joseph and the Virgin Mary
born in the city of Nazareth in abject poverty
an immaculate conception, born out of wed-lock
many could not perceive of the gift His parents had got
one day Jesus and His parents travelled out of town
but on the road back home, Jesus could not be found
His parents became frantic, they could not understand
that He would be in the temple fulfilling God's master plan
the Adolescent Christ was just trying to comprehend
His true purpose for being on earth among mere men
He was seeking the knowledge that which He needed to know
from whence He had came and where He was destined to go
He was appointed with a chosen destiny
and had a desire to know why He was given this activity
don't go about allowing society to put labels on you
don't allow anyone to tell you what you can not do
seek out your lineage and about your ancestors learn
then apply that knowledge to everything in life you need to discern
for you have been chosen just like the Adolescent Jesus Christ
remember God had a purpose for giving you life
as youths yourselves, you are in a precarious situation
not quite adults but needing your own sense of validation
walking a fine line between the young and the old
trying to be respectful with a desire to be bold
the Adolescent Christ, Jesus the boy king
determined to discover what His appointment did mean
and just like the teenagers of society today
searching, hoping and seeking to find their own way
with a craving to look beyond their own expectations
wanting to exceed their ancestors accumulations
just let the Lord God strengthen you and let Him be your guide
and like His son Jesus Christ, let the Holy Spirit in you reside
trust in Him, believe in Him and may your conduct be above board
discover your heritage and your destiny while doing the work of the Lord
Categories:
accumulations, father, history, inspirational, teen,
Form:
Epic
The rich fare so poorly
in completely divesting of the gold chains
Losing it all ... casting away
the luster of the pearly platinum
family portraits on the baroque mansion,
spiral stairway wall
The copper savings ... deposit daub
straw crumbs,
that built the foundation of it all,
starts to totter and fall
When accumulations begin to fail,
put the diminished sprawl
money sign up for sale
Cashing out prematurely ...
losing it all
It's the fatal heart attack,
before the disappearing assets
hit zero
And the cancelled checks
start bouncing back
There are no bankrupt heroes
This penny dreadful thought
gives the wealthy
Freddy Krugerrand nightmares
Leaving the golden nest behind ...
to wing it pauperously alone,
is a wallet tear, safety net falling out
Parachute pursed lips don’t ever
reveal all —
Where the secret stash is mnemonic hid,
in case of an emergency landing
liquidity call ... phantom accounts off-the-grid
Covertly cashing out,
don’t leave much room for
mint condition doubt
Keeping a stuffed mattress attitude,
it’s poor manners to be
obnoxiously soup-line bourgeois rude
Maintain fiscal proletarian discipline;
looking fo’ mo’ easy-open vault,
capital idea opportunities
to reinvest the debt reset default
Staying on a silver cloud
at all cost
Means rushing headlong to a sky precipice,
bullishly fretting fearful
of a bearer bond, bear market free-fall
Piggy bank 401k squeals
be just another Poor & Standard
snout pocket poke to the profit-strapped chin
No-frills credit rating T-note bills
are being dividend, early retirement cashed in
It’s all down-low, bankroll covert action ...
‘cause everybody know
that being milk poppy poor is a withdrawal sin
Categories:
accumulations, money, slam, wisdom, word
Form:
Verse
Reality bites if we let it.
Each sould try to forfit
Always trying to avoid
Limitations on accumulations.
Instead live realistically.
Treat the world holistically.
You will benefit immensely.
Categories:
accumulations, allusion, culture, truth,
Form:
Acrostic
Shattered are the dreams of the wanting, as they live in their broken homes
Bodies wracked with pain, spirits crushed as they live out those wasted lives
Accumulations of sorrow, all these and more, in the tailing pond of society
as we mine the misery of our most vulnerable and sorely damaged brethren
Yet, how we can avert our cold and flinty eyes so easily from these souls
as we grub in their pockets for the meagre pennies they bring to spend in hopes for a quick flight to their personal, but inevitably unreachable, heavens
And as they fall back to earth from another failed attempt to reach the stars
that live only in their eyes, we coldly collect the toll and add it to the coffers
to be disbursed for the public good. Sleep well, fellow citizens, sleep well.
Categories:
accumulations, addiction, dark, imagery, society,
Form:
Free verse