Best Cannot Poems
I stare at dusk-tinged mountains to the east,
anticipating joyously the rise
of an old friend not pressured in the least
to meet my frantic schedule, I surmise.
I cannot rush the moon, although I reckon
that if I could, I would request she hurried.
Though "miles to go before I sleep" do beckon,
the Empress of the night sky moves unworried.
Some obligations elsewhere do await
my undivided interest to be theirs.
But if I linger for her, I'll be late
provoking shaking heads and unkind stares.
My heart of hearts desires to be unbound
from shackles of these deadlines and constraints;
to bathe in yellow radiance full and round
and gaze in peace at this still life she paints.
Debating thus, she crowns over yon mountains;
entranced under her beauty, I stand hushed.
Her rays are elegant, florescent fountains -
I'm thankful that the moon cannot be rushed.
Written May 2016
There is a sacred place, beyond the deep blue skies
while living, we cannot go, and where birds cannot fly
a vast, mysterious realm, not meant for human eyes
where strong forces gather, waging war from on high.
A war for the hearts and the minds of our souls
by the enemy of God, that dark serpent of old
who lusts for men's lives, even though he well knows
that Christ's work is done and He sits on His Throne.
The prince of this world does not want us to see
that the power of God can transform you and me
living Word, that can change us within, Spirit breathed
like those birds soaring high, lifting hearts when we read.
There is a place far away, where birds cannot go
yet someday, the saints who believe Him will know
that great haven of heaven from Christ will be shown
a bright new tomorrow, where the river of life flows.
Written 2015
I cannot reach the ivy wildly growing,
The screen will soon cling and cover.
Once I was tall enough and lithe,
But those days are long and long over.
Watching ivy grow is a new way of living,
Quiet and silent days of writing of rhymes,
Wondering at the speed of passing these days,
Alone and rocking through these curious times.
I cannot reach the ivy wildly growing.
The screen may soon cling and cover.
Though as long as I may, I will stand on tip toes.
Leaving the rest to others
I hate the patriarchy
I hate that men have control over my body
I hate how I have to walk around the city knowing that being pretty is a justification for rape
And I hate that I have to always try and counter that by looking down
Not making eye contact
I hate that I have to act ashamed because some men think confidence is permission
I hate that if all my efforts fail it’s illegal for me to have autonomy in a decision that would change my life
I hate that even though men have no idea how it feels to live in fear they have the power to make fear my reality
They have the power to make fear all I know
They have the power to take my life from me
I hate that when they say they want to save “unborn children”
They mean they don’t want me to have a choice
But when the child is born, they won’t help pay for their food
They shame for struggling when money isn’t available
They shame teen mothers even when the mother was only walking home after a long day of school, when the mother never wanted anything to do with them
And they say it was the girl’s fault because her “clothes showed too much skin” and because “she looked at me, so I thought it was okay” and because “she never said no”
How could she say no
She was scared to fight back
Because in the patriarchy, a woman is a tool
A woman is not her own person
A woman can’t make her own decisions
Because she is not valued
I am used and I know it every day
I am 15 and I already worry because I know this could be me
I am 15 and I worry that my little sister’s life could be ruined because she doesn’t get to choose
I am 15 and I worry about all my friends and my classmates and every girl and woman who has to live with the same fear I do
I am 15 and I know that while this is my reality now, this won’t be my reality forever
I am 15 and I am ready for something to change
Kyoko walks alone in the morning tide,
comforted for a fleeting moment by salty air.
She feels the same sand between her toes
as when she was a barefoot little girl, in a time
she felt safe, when the eyes of her mother protected her
like a suit of armor - before the mighty wall of water,
the “harbor wave”, towered over her village
near Fukushima, washing her happy childhood away.
Her dear mother, her security, her everything
never came home that day.
Many months later, her father, a local fisherman,
has lost his ability to cry, laugh or tell her why.
His silent eyes, cold as frost, are dead
like the poisoned fish he nets every morning.
In many ways, Kyoko lost both of her parents
on that haunting day - forced to grow up long before
the water receded, before the nuclear leak,
before this new, austere existence.
Night deepens the despair. She is loneliest
when darkness invades. She prays for the crickets
return. They no longer sing her to sleep, and the stars
have faded, no longer shining through her open window.
Even the grasshoppers have died…
from restless sleep, night calls her to the mirror
to find her mother’s dark eyes staring back at her –
a curse she hopes will one day become a blessing,
a hope that one day her father will look at her again...
With tomorrow, her greatest burden will return.
She will wake along side the broken-winged butterfly
with her duties in mind. Then, she’ll wear her stoic face
to the marketplace. Father says he will soon lose
his fishing boat. She has heard visitors from the city say
only a fool would eat the fish from nearby waters,
the same fish she fries most every day. No one knows
the global impact, they say. She hears foreign words
like radiation, disease and mutation while she sells
the shiso and wasabi root from their garden stand,
feeling fear she does not fully understand but one day will.
She only knows how to survive today…
For Debbie Guzzi's Global Poetry Contest, 11/19/14
I cannot say how poems come to be-
from just one thought to full reality.
I cannot say how I hunt down my words
to image themes like nature, flowers, birds.
Or then select a form to fit the theme;
be it free verse, haiku, or rhyming scheme.
Or count the syllables for metered flow;
select the feet of two or more to show
a rhythm, smooth or anapestic dance
to make the words behave or wildly prance.
Or think I'm done, but then see that I'm not;
to then rewrite and add what I forgot.
From just one thought to full reality-
I cannot say how poems come to be.
April 29, 2016
~1st Place~
Contest: Rhyming Couplets
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Judged: 05/25/2021
~9th Place~
Contest: Preterition
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Judged: 05/17/2016
Preterition is a poetic technique: drawing attention to
something by claiming to omit it, but then really defining it
by actually saying what you claim you cannot say.
Form: Couplet / Iambic Pentameter
Once a caterpillar between a dream and reality thought she could be beautiful
~so on she dreamed...
Creating a shell to protect
under the bright new moon
The Cocoon~
Inside she wept
Yet,
A fantastic fantasy of what she would some day be,
The very colors of life upon the the Earth as she struggled to crawl
A slow progression; every day she saw
in a mirrored shell
She dreamed her colors, she connected with divinity
as her memory recalled the sky so blue, the warm sunlight
To the very hope to one day fly
What color? her imagination touched God's heart
One day she emerged through the darkness, the seclusion,
The shell now out grown...she pushed her eloquent wings through
Standing upon a cracked open cocoon,
her wings tested the winds of kindness ~
~ ~
~ ~
Her first flight, she the Miss, fluttering about without direction or care, enjoying the Summer air~
~ ~
~
The flowers sent scent to comfort, to rest there, she;
in awe of her wings, the colors, they were just as she dreamed!
God Smiled~
I heard of a human tell of her beauty, then suddenenly became sad
Not for the glory upon, but the time as her flight would expire
Yet, tell me, what is time to a butterfly?
When time itself is calculated by man and the stars...
Yes, she and I know the majestics of God's creation that some take for granted
As the stars shine tonight
I think of the butterfly's flight
I know all is right
I know mans's calculations are right
But, somehow, it is not a sadness
but courage spilled upon the Earth
of the butterfly's rebirth from a worm
I, in all that I am can relate
I embrace, know her way
Once a worm as I, now my colors motivate my flight
Life is so short~
I can not give account of ways that I love you
For there’s no conscious thought to clothe the undefined
The boundless universe has left me not a clue
And so the vastness of my love stays unconfined
It is beyond the reaches of your searching mind
A feeling and belief that you are all I need
The end of this conviction you will never find
And fibers of my life on wonders of it feed
And so you rest in comfort and you are content
Though not a seasoned word I’ve uttered or expressed
The knowledge of my love my eyes to you have sent
You feel it’s sovereign power on body I’ve caressed
There are no ways for me to show my depth of love
But rest assured that time will testify for me
Each day, each month, each year and life in heave’n above
Will be the ways you long for through eternity
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Fate gifted us, drinking passion from its chalice,
Waking flames serving first to increase our ardor;
Summer, your sweet roses covered our great palace,
This time away from your touch, became much harder.
I look across this wind-blown majestic ocean,
Mind turns to epic sadness of our parting hour;
I begged then for distance erasing potion,
I tried to remain your rock hard castle tower.
The desperate, longing look- your beautiful face,
Informing me the dire depths that you found this clutch;
I reminded, you no distance, could our love erase,
Or lessen my need to feel your soft, gentle touch.
Last week, I sent you a love-soaked, tear-stained letter,
Now, I board ship bringing me to my one true love;
Reading my golden love sent, you will feel better,
Not again, my love's touch, shall I deprive you of.
~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eileen Manassian & Robert J. Lindley
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~
Always Lamentable
You can run but you cannot hide!
For the face of God watches all
your fiddlings.
And is furious over baby killings.
You can write all the most
moving poetry you choose.
But you won't escape supporting
these pre-birth shreddings?
You really think you aren't
killing God's creations?
How diabolical to think human life
is but a doll, created by the Wal-Mart nation!
I urge all humans with a heart,
To allow these tiny ones, the chances you and I have.
To not be murdered, to live and
Be loved, instead.
Perhaps one day, be a poet
just like you.
To see the sun, moon and stars.
Insanity to save animals and trees.
But kill off humanity with such
joyous ease.
June 9, 2019
8:45am PST
I hide my emotions in a place so deep.
Living a act to myself I keep.
Understanding all with ideas I play.
Voices echo from the page all I cannot say.
Jokes from the clown.
Undone I am when in this empty town.
Love fills the air in the spring.
Encounters crushing hearts and many gold ring.
She Understands in a different way.
For she hears with the heart all I cannot say.
In code i speak without any rules.
Thieves try to grasp anothers jewels.
But my tongue speaks in limited realm.
Storms I welcome as long with me
you are at the healm.
Take this message and save it
for a lonley day.
And cling to the passion
of what I cannot say.
Peace all my life,
then it soured.
Just went away.
Sours slowly,
ignore it.
Fool, it conquers
like cancer.
Fool, it wins,
like death.
I realize it's too late.
Can psychiatry work?
Too expensive.
Relax and listen to soft music
till night comes.
We make believe,
go through the motions of love
but I'm dead.
Worst of all:
I cannot pray.
I can only
Look at heaven.
And hope.
Maybe I’ll find peace again.
I cannot look I will not look
That’s not you inside
Jaws of life are roaring
Trying to cut you free
Crimson are the car seats
Tears are all I see
I cannot look I will not look
That’s not you inside
That body in the white bed
With tubes all hanging out
We all just stand in horror
While doctors run about
I cannot look, I will not look
That’s not you inside
I’ve already seen the bandage
Wrapped around your head
I will not look inside the box
Now your eternal bed
I can’t look I will not look
That’s not you inside
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.23.2014
Contest: The Poet III
Gautami Phookan
Men's minds are devious at the best of times
Also twisting their stories
I should know, I'm one of dem der guys
Pretty sure I'm no different than 98% of my fellow males
It's inbred into our psyche and of this I'm sure
We're really damn proud of it
However I'm a straight shooter
At the expense of my fellow males, I apologize
Hate blowing the whistle on youse guys
But I can't help it... as Georgie once said
"I cannot tell a lie"
Everything and I mean EVERYTHING
That comes out of my mouth
Is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth
So help... Z-Z-Z-A-A-A-A-A-P-!
© Jack Ellison 2014
The words I want to say but never do
remain inside my heart, a burning plea
to make a quick escape and reach to you
and make you come to see what hides in me
The aching lingers there from day to day
At times subdued, at times a raging pain
The tender flesh of heart, they eat away
Demanding voice, they are my living bane
The secret of my heart must dormant lie
For it cannot be known or see the light
And so I try to make the feelings die
but then like sun, your face dawns on my sight
My heart takes leave; my lips, they part to say:
“I’d die to have your love! Be mine today.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Not chained is the heart would draw near
Feel the breeze of Heaven while heaving
The hand of Faith shall free souls and steer
A divine fountain of Love receiving
Cascaded words flowing over any weir
A grace gifted by inspiring teacher
The poet in you shall have no compeer
Nourish the soul from every single creature
Love lulls human heart to see its sea
And to eternal Love bears a vower
Lead your dives and surface.. beam to be
Sea limits can’t reach just drink its power