Best Conducting Poems
....in retrospect
There were mirrors there
Behind it, where all the Jews would hide
How can someone blame the black despair?
All You were, was a mirror over there
Flooding naked imagery
Flowing naked mercury
Proof there were no fa-ked lies
Unless words were pressed against the frame
Somehow you couldnt recognise...
your name...
Half blinded..
Besides, you would deny it anyway
One day while searching for those wandering Jews
Purple flowers in my garden winked at me
" we are they, if so you choose"
The mirror held was upside down
(It never mattered anyway)
So I kept on walking on and on
Until this very day
Ive heard it said just the other day
They used it to flash the sun
Hoping it would shine away
As some were hiding in its shade
A million miles away
Behind that fragile pane of glass
The looking glass kept looking past
And keeps looking for today
Looking at the torn disguise
And the lying enemy eyes
Though their lips were moist with movement
As yet the sound remained unheard
The spoken word was truth
One day it all may come to you
Whispered by a little bird
Ive held so high your high regard
And so your high esteem
Your badge of broken Jew
And friends by lives devided seen
I tried imagining I was you
Walking, standing in your wretched shoes
To us were done similar things
They also covered up the truth
In fact its happening here and now
How much cover do they need?
In honour tried to imitate , sometimes even emulate
Your cheeky contraband
Conducting your own orchestra
While playing your own band
This mirror holding up I see
If I was ever to wear those clothes
Emblazoned by a David star
Embattled with a Jewish scar
I wish to have your nose
The link between us circumcised
A covenant yet not broken
A people not yet broken by the blues
My love was found
Intact profound
In around
the nation of the Jew
Shadowland
Chained to the addiction of tempting Fate
What if I told you that my life was once like yours?
Torn between love and hate
A shadow silhouette lurking between life and death
Fuelled by an emptiness to which I couldn’t relate
Caution to the wind of besting the best,
A devious test?
Sweet sensations winning an egotistical contest
Life on the edge, merely a precarious precipice
Exhilarated ego threw flames to the flame
The fire inside couldn’t be tamed
Comforts of home failed to exist
Love I yearned for endeavoured to resist
Mind effortlessly lied, failing to grasp the illusion
between confused, lost and utter delusion
Life on the streets a means beyond the dare
Sink or swim baby, did anyone care?
Till the one eventful day when I chanced it too far
Catastrophic event out of nowhere in shape of a car
A sickening thud
My frivolous life paid in blood
My death in vain and loss of blooming years
Too late like acidic rain flowed those tears
What if I told you if you don’t already know?
The concise connotation
through electric flashes of blue and red
of the loudest despairing dread
When they zipped the bag and pronounced you dead?
And you become a glimmer that nobody sees
and the silent scream that nobody hears
Except other shadows between worlds
In an intermundane space
Torn between abstract, physical and a forgotten face
Temptation came as I sat here waiting
To switch sides, she urgently advised me
I saw through her guise, this diabolical entity
I’m not an Angel that fits in your regular category
So, I spat in her eye and called her a name
Oops! sorry Lord forgive me I know you heard
Some of my old sass remains
Still new to the game
Yes, understood, it’s a crying shame.
So back to my story
Redemption came in the grand scheme
I was one of the fortunate few redeemed
So, take heart, kid, abandoned to this shadowland
Not anymore
No more a wandering weary soul lost
Fate was not kind it was never your fault
Conducting your journey
to me the charge has been given
Through a leap of faith all is forgiven
On a desolate splendor of this autumn night
We listen to the serene call of the gleaming moonlight
Deciduous trees stand tall to acclaim its magnificence
Conducting the melodious whispers of the cold and gentle wind
As each golden neon foliage shimmers and pirouettes on view
You hold me tight as I hold you, too
For this autumn night will rise the citadel of love…just me and you
Sept. 8,2014 11.15pm
First Place
Contest: One Autumn Night (in just 7 lines)
Judged: 12/27/2014
Sponsor: All time most fave/greatest poet, Linda
Their murkiness has begun, an agony may follow,
Yet, you can see their faint smiles with their eyes losing their glow;
There’s a cap on their head concealing their sparse hair,
Still, they don’t want to judge that life is so cruel and unfair.
They’ve accepted the fact that anytime may happen,
With this horrible disease which is also inherited from relatives and parent;
With all their gumption and fortitude, they wear prayers and faith in heart,
Strength in spirit to face the battle and trust God without a doubt.
They bravely underwent several treatments on pains without complain,
Knowing that some get streak of bad luck even from their environment;
All they wanted to do when amelioration happens,
Continue the struggle and show good examples to women.
On month of Breast Cancer Awareness, they’re making a shout,
Conducting the reveille for us all to keep abreast for the fight;
They believe that we’re in a brink of prevention which is better than cure,
If we avoid smoking and minimize alcohol to make our body safer for sure.
Having a healthy lifestyle is still the best,
Consumption of many fruits and vegetables and watch our diet,
Positive mental outlook and regular exercise are very important,
For a brighter tomorrow, against breast cancer- together we stand.
October 18, 2013 7.15 pm
Note:
This poem was written with the inspiration again of my cousin (now my 2nd poem dedicated to her ) and one of my colleagues. They’re both survivors of breast cancer. I lovingly dedicate also this poem to all our the breast cancer victims.
First Place
Contest: Pinktober
Judged: 11/6/13
Sponsor: My Greatest Poet/all time Fave, Linda
On the
Mussetle Train
I go
Going
s l o w l y. . . going
nowhere
Where can
I take this train,
pray tell?
Prayers
are needed for
this trip!
Tripping
on words, I run
off course
Of course,
I can get back
on track
But tracks
for this train are
not wide
Good width
would help me move
better
The best
I can do is
stop now!
for the Mussetle Train - Poetry Contest
Sorry for the train wreck, Richard!!
Seashell Symphony,
On ear, rhapsody playing.
Ocean Conducting!
Dedicated to Raul...you're a very good teacher...tell me what you think?
The maestro conducting the bands
Could get none to follow commands.
Though skilled and respected,
Sadly, he'd neglected
That morning to put on his pants.
2.7.20
For Tania Kitchin's Limerick contest
Confirmed syllable count 8-8-6-6-8
Hail from top of birth birch tree,
A birdie sings merrily;
Prancing to and fro on each branch,
Pink, yellow, white flowers on its beak are clamped;
Yearning everyone’s on the floor to dance.
Birdie, birdie, may I follow you?
Is there anything I wanna do?
Responses are: Cheerpee, Cheerpee, Cheer ye join me!
Today is Someone’s Very Special Day.
Hooray! Let’s give a blast!
Don’t delay. Let’s now start (conducting)
Aloud! Let’s sing with bunch of loving birthday wishes
You, my dearest friend may have lots of joy, good health, more success!
Happy Birthday and God Bless!
Written: Oct. 7, 2017 12.30 pm
– My loving greetings to our dearest poet and friend, my poetic Sis-Bff Linda. Hope you’ll have the chance to read my poems.
This is also to greet all my loving poetic friends whose birthday is October. Hugs and cheers!
I hear them... their sweet lullaby
strummed by a gentle breeze.
How lovely, this fine summer day,
wind blowing through my hair,
listening to restful wind chimes
play their gentle, mystic tunes
as if singing to the mountains,
and answering the birds,
sending secret messages to all...
please enjoy this perfect day.
Their soft tinkling, ringing echoes
the beauty in the meadow, and
the clarity of sky, as the slow ballet
of tree limbs sway and bow
to the fine music that they play.
The wind chimes give me joy
as soft breezes set them free;
they play and sing and dance...
conducting joy within my heart
and peace inside my soul.
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
I met a man who was a builder, harder life than some.
His lifetimes measure built of him the man he has become.
A carpenter who works with hands, grown tough through each nail driven.
For each connection made he stands to witness love he’s given.
A life that’s built of wood and people, dreams all shared with God.
Connected through a path of faith, a worthy man might trod.
He builds the dream of home and hearth that each heart so requires
with hands that strive forever forward, even though he tires.
With back that bends toward prayer as a soul on bended knees
he places pieces one by one til finished home he sees.
A sculptor of each family’s home and all their vested futures.
With caulk and nail and sweat and blood his only given sutures.
Directing useful trees to be arranged by artful hand.
Conducting symphonies of glory, weather to withstand.
A visionary born of lumber, plaster, tile, and stone,
making memories of houses where his light has shown.
A designer of dreams he moves with speed to completion.
Steady with strength, quick with purpose, into every season.
Delivering hollowed caverns of life for those to call their own.
Shaping shells whose contents hold the people he has known.
A shaper of fluidity, measuring courses, marking flow;
constructor of places where souls reside, and lives have space to grow.
This man I met is but one finger, not at all so odd,
who moves with steady purpose, on another hand of God.
i've seen it several times
someone motioning, flourishing
waggling, swinging, curving
hunching, moulding, stooping
pulling shapes, a twirling
a form, a delineation, shadows
fingers, tree branches, winding creeks
sometimes a head inclines
obstructing the cityscape
what are they listening to?
what are they talking about?
we've done it, we've become greenwood
sometimes a jungle
i've done it alone after dropping you off
cold storage becomes publicised
i've done it
i've done it, yes, i've cried in
the car
alone
Reflecting in my minds defining silence;
It's amazing how loud it can be without violence;
There are so many clever agents; sentient's within
Conducting their works; influencing original sin
Isolating thoughts with precise belligerence
Stifling consciousness; destroying all innocence
Un; and conscious thoughts confound
Is this a nightmare; so profound?
When this internalized backscattering redemption for my soul begins;
I'm more than just a little bit curious; about how to make a true amends;
These angelic thoughts; I feel the halo slipping down to this tightening noose;
The alarm clock tones; a dream lost; I come around, still deeply a recluse
A dream in tune with waking world,
meanings grasp conscious unfurled,
alive alliteration aligned,
beautifully poised and perfectly timed.
Lucid dreamer weaving webs,
create rising tide that never ebbs,
perihelion pendulum swung medallion,
riding thought speed's unbroken stallion.
All the while the rising tide grows,
does atmosphere expand does water overflow,
brain makes madness meandering call,
beckoning stars to earth they slowly fall.
Full lotus seated at Everest peak,
three eye's sight voice of mind to speak,
conducting planet's orchestral symphony,
nature moves to wave of hands rhapsody.
Awake in tune with sleeping world,
meanings grasp unconscious unfurled,
alive alliteration aligned again,
pen poised perfection safe from meaningless ink stain.
A geisha today a convict tomorrow
My mouths are all speaking
Blah Glad and Hah Sad
I cannot hear them for I am done
Broken and cracked, an egg of myself
A cowgirl whose nose is out of joint
A different smell than others have
My green eyes are a glory to my face
Looking at me from a mirror
Only I understand, and no one else can see
I am holding things together with
A pretend hand.
Secretly conducting a mariachi band.
A geisha today, a convict tomorrow.
If you knew what I was thinking
You would be ahead of the game.
I have mouths that listen and a nose
That speaks. I have eyes that don’t see
The cracks at all, loving myself
In spite of the blah glads and hah sads
I am all I have got, and it is more
Than enough.
A geisha today, a convict tomorrow.