Best Compass Poems
On the road to your gypsy soul
in the vastness of my world
chasing heartbeats and fireflies
across wooden covered bridges
navigating deep and arid canyons
beneath a sweltering summer sun.
I'll trace the compass of our destiny
leading me to a foreign land
I'll find you roaming in flowering fields of daisies
where I will finally take your hand
I'll be in awe of your effervescent half-moon
glowing brightly in the night
I'll gaze longingly at your thousand stars
shining downward ever bright
I'll feel the breeze that you feel
blowing softly over the cobalt sea
together we'll be one with nature
setting all our spirits free
Not surrendering to temptation
because you are everything I need
I'll listen to your heart beat
for on your love I soon will feed
"My heart is a compass lost at sea finding its North in the gaze of thee."
This compass points directly at you
whether your North East South or West
Aligned to your magnetic pole
I am being magnetized
You are an orientation arrow
my Polaris * my North Star
Configurator of my soul,
I am yours *
You are a trustworthy compass
without you I'd be lost
You are the magnet
that altered the course of my life,
FOREVER !
I love you beyond the borders of language,
where words stumble,
faltering in the shadow of feeling.
No map charts the expanse of this tenderness,
no compass finds its edge.
I love you as the ocean loves the shore,
returning endlessly,
even when it is sent away.
I love you as the sky holds the stars,
cradling light in an infinite embrace,
never asking why they shine.
There is no scale for this,
no ledger to balance the weight of your smile
or the currency of your touch.
Only the quiet knowing
that you are,
and that is enough.
If love is the pulse of existence,
yours is the rhythm I echo.
If love is a storm,
I surrender to its rain.
There are no fences here,
no gates to shut you out or let you in,
only an open field,
a horizon that does not end.
And when the stars scatter
like seeds across the night,
my love will bloom
in every corner of forever,
without measure,
without end.
As I gaze in your loving eyes, love awaits me there ~ you’re my compass
01/05/ 2020
Alexis Y.
“The Path towards REMEMBERING is not for the weak. It is priceless. Move inwards, without faltering & know that you are held.” Poet
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journey within is strewn with jagged edges
and jewels
both can lead to detours
walking a straight and narrow path one
traverses own jungle untamed
lame sometimes becomes our resolve
not to forge ahead beyond crags or rags
is not an option once undertaking begins
screams may merge with songs or dreams
cream alongside starvation or salvation
a luminous beckoning lighthouse at end of tedium slogs hold us steady
often makes us heady
in solitude with faith we need make no haste
knowingness with Heart’s compass surely
keeps us safe
neither hazard or hurdle makes us curdle
Soul the master of destined fate never late
to turn cherished key into jewelled Home
within is majestic prize to win
What is left?
When your rights are simply wrong?
When my north is mostly south
and our shortcomings last too long?
When is up?
When my highs are lowered down?
When good blends into evil
and arc angels are not around?
Where are you?
When my what's fold into why's?
And the falsities of our truths
separates the you from I?
Why is it?
When simple questions posed to thee?
Are sated with complex silence
and deadly answers live in me?
How?
Hold and veer revolved career, the way by man alone on trails unknown, across
trackless stone, to follow where? across prairie’s bare! traveling light with bellies
tight, on rocky shores its lore was sure, to follow, follow across crag across hollow
your roads were strung as songs were sung.
To the moonlights gleam your face a'sheen within an allegorical necklace of emerald green,
over the lush deep pile of grassy miles
in shades of juniper deep in a darkling sleep,
to the rising of suns and a compass point all journey's run.
the tales untold of companies bold
that (you without) had much to doubt, for you've
shown the trail helped set the sails, the Mayflower
knew your north point true, in part America is! Because of you!
Jim Bridger held you in his hand as he mapped
a path to the Rio Grande, George Washington, Sam Houston,
Davy Crocket and Daniel Boone, stood for
Liberty, Truth and elbow room.
So what of now! the why when & how? Can the trail point of a nation, validate its creation?
in these days pitch dark can you strike a spark
are there men like Kennedy or Martin Luther King, women,
like Amelia Earhart whose spirits point forward in adversity, and continue to sing.
weary somber skies daub teary clouds outside my window
while in my heart dance rainbows to blissful cheery melodies
inner compass compensating for the fickle sun gone awol
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
the Lord
will not judge
you on how often you pray
or how
earnestly you pray
prayers are no more than words
they hold no meaning for God
He has no desire to be praised or worshiped
that was never your purpose
that's why He gave you free will
you're born with a soul
a moral compass
that forever points you in the direction
of love
and you will be judged
not on your interpretation of God's love
but on how you shared that love
with your fellow man
"Dead Star Compass"
When you’ve lost
your entire world
and there’s no return,
you either fold your cards
or join the Legion.
we fought
on the front lines.
the Normals said
we were on a suicide mission;
not so, more like we joined
to feel something,
Human.
even
if it was
through
the fire of
others' pain.
those who thought
they weren’t lost,
had just lost their world,
without warning -
or so they thought,
in the blinding pitch
of those ignoble
and damaged
war torn dark night
dire days.
crying tears
of blood
for the loss
of their abducted
innocent children
let's not forget,
the petrified childhoods
they’d lost themselves,
without mercy,
to the unjustified unjust.
there was a place for
displaced perspective.
how shall I put it?
there came to those,
who were
poetically
disassociating,
in that terrible time,
the chronicles
of those long strung out
lost wasted days -
a unique
frame of reference
some might say,
an intuitive inner voice
commanding ghosts,
those surviving discards
covered in visible
and invisible bruises,
a strange need
to put on the armour of
an oddly solitary,
idiosyncratic, and
quite unexpected -
spiritual union?
Inside what remained
of the human heart,
the magnetised poles
like a compass spinning
revolutionary,
unexplained and fast -
hypnotised us,
the tainted discards,
supernaturally North,
towards that which
was long considered
a lost,
dead star.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
to the east pestilence
to the west war
to the south famine
to the north death
here is where you’ll find me
Like a fish out of the water
you caught me by surprise
and
my mind a continual motion machine
perpetuates my nervousness
and endorphins
push through my veins like
an excitatory Water Park.
Initially when I began to speak to you it was like going going down the waterslide with
the 50 foot drop… I always was afraid of heights.
But sometimes there is that moment in your life. Where you have to face the Diving board.
You Know the one where you always have to take a running start….. to clear your mind of
the fact that you could belly Flop.
Who knew it could be so difficult to get the courage to leap before you look
To be timid is not within my nature yet
I pace back and forth..
Pick up the phone, put it back down.
Curse at myself for being such a coward.
What the hell is this all about??
Am I stuck in Growing Pains an overly innocent sitcom from the 1980s
Oh my god………..
I am meandering. Since when did I meander?
Sans compass
how should I route myself from avoiding the
awkward conversation
Because there are always two options
Either you could come out on top like at the Showtime at the Apollo
Or you can kiss your chances goodbye if you try to produce
some awfully terrible retorts for banter
Ohhh Lord… Does this mean.. the distinct change in personality…. means……
I have a Crush?
The word brings back such childhood memories
Rewinding back through time, like an old cassette deck tape
Buzzing faster then the beat of a bumblebee's wing
I am back to where I began.
Sans Compass
No that can’t be it
I guess I have to
Really look at myself in the mirror
pull back the hair out of my eyes, and
know that inside of my chest wall
beats my wildcat heart entity.
I will walk towards you fearlessly.
Love's Compass Rose
( Valentine Poem 2018)
From the East we set out,
Gathering steam;
A rising sun ignites
The birth of the dream,
Celestial fire lights
The path of youthful love,
Finding its way upon
The blinding heights
Of Spring's unbounded passions.
Heedless we, by days and nights
Of Destiny or Destination.
Then moved by Nature's own determination,
To the South we turned
Our yet-young steps,
Down to where the long Summer burned,
Bloomed, and its tendrils crept
Alongside all the way,
Sometimes caught
Sometimes slowed our tread -
Yet still we strode, all down the day
Arm weaved in arm
We held each other sway
Until the Summer gave us all Her best.
Then we turned us to the West;
Where now we wend our careful way
Through the land of gold and red
Where the taste of cold hangs in the day
And what is said and left unsaid
Colors all the cooling air
Drawing us nearer, step by step
To the silent North
As it paints the frostlines in our hair.
Now I would not wish to be a boy again;
Thou art now to me more passing fair
Then thou wert to me before, and so...
In the end it's to the North we go,
Up high above, to the silent land
Where the diamonds of the sky shine true
Where together we shall stop and stand
Thee with me, I with you
Reviewing all the good things we've done,
Then call it good, as the night comes down
To wrap us in its starry arms.
In this ending we have won
The rewards of patient labor.
The Winter of the North will welcome us at last
As the present is the only child of the past
So goes the Circle, 'round and 'round.
We go around Love's Compass Rose,
With some things lost, others found,
Wondering at the things we chose
To keep or cast aside.
When it's done, the time spent
If it was well done, there may be more,
There may be more betide;
We may be given to go 'round again,
To meet my Joy, my Wife, my Pride -
Somewhere South of Seventeen.
uncertainty settles in
hesitation hath be fallen upon us
they say if something scares you
it’s meant to happen
the compass is twirling out of control
i have no sense of direction
can only trust myself
but it’s okay, i suppose
i have lost all notions of finding
“The One”
i’m letting the waters take me
where I need to be
i believe in the feeling, the vibe
so not tied down to memories past
I change
every minute
every hour
every day
who can say they know me for squat
i have different sides
my personality is a
vibrant kaleidoscope of colors
that doesn’t say that im at all fake
the haters say
“i’ve changed”
but now I would laugh and say
“of course, I have!”
i’m me all around
i’m everchanging
everlasting in your very memory
i’m artsy
i’m a hopeless romantic
i’m a brutally logical realist
i see the future
i see the reality
i listen to classic music
i listen to hard rock and punk
All the while head banging all the same
I breath in and out
loving the feeling
of ecstasy
of living
of loving
hard
my heart bleeds
I can see the look in your eyes
straight into mine
seems like you know
or
Will you be willing to know more?
of the crazy, fun, wild mess
that is moi
A Tillerman's Story
To each, a compass, would I give this day..,
to help guide through the treacherous waters of life.
For we humans, oft found wanting, do stray..!
bumping bows of other's, leave hearts torn in strife.
Wield well this gift, to find love and compassion..,
reach out your hand, to those who can't help themselves.
Keel mindful of other's compass fashioned..,
not empty heart'd parcels left on empty shelves.
Course plotted, life's vessel yours to command..,
not squalid, rudderless tillerman to relent.
To reason, be fast friend, tho' understand...
the Universe may still hold you in contempt.
Keep song in your heart, and let voice be likened to a lightning rod's.
"Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's;
and to God the things that are God's."
The moral & gift of the Tillerman's story...
use your compass to find a path to Glory.
"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
-Mahatma Gandhi