Best Convening Poems
Adorned with momentus meaning ,
darkness can be a terrible and scary thing -
For some- a time of nightmarish convening
Yet to others - divinely rich beauty abound
To me it is a story to read one of
my favorite things - lying on the ground
All the stars are braille as I reach out to read touching and caressing
One falls and other takes its place
the story is rewritten again and again and never dull
Some people on earth prophesied the stories to stones ,
some five thousand years ago ..ancient stories regarding our times
Full of ugly, detestable crimes, so I do as I may,
watching the night sky reading stories of dragons ,
creatures half man and many other wonderful things
My perfect world of armored braille-
I'll just keep on reading of ancient battles, songs of lovers
Adventures of the gods
And four leaf clovers.
Amy Green
April 2014 revised May 18, 2014
Categories:
convening, adventure, angel, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
From start to finish
today my sister and I walked the woods.
We mimicked the wildlife and crossed the creek.
We told stories in the sunlight and shade
and peeped at the birds.
Thirty years ago
these same birds' ancestors ate from our hands.
Today we scattered seeds on the bare ground
and watched the bickering birds convening
with one track minds.
We walked back in time
and shared giggles at things we'd fought over -
like the biggest piece of pie and who sat
next to dad in the car, important things
like George Waldencott.
Tears flowed from our eyes
recalling a chipped tooth and broken arm,
burns from cigarettes we'd hid in these woods -
a few of the scars from fights for the rights,
rights of the other.
Our lunches eaten,
our lemonade thermos emptied too fast,
still hungry for mem'ries of days long past.
She sneaked a cookie from its hiding place
in her shirt pocket.
She took off running,
holding it high in the air, looking back
and yelling her dare, "Nana, nana, na - na!"
Racing t'wards home we climbed the garden wall
and split the cookie.
And at last she spoke
words I had ached to hear since their wedding -
"Thank you, Cissy, for letting me have George."
She went home with hubby and three children.
I went home, just me.
6/10/13
Categories:
convening, remember, sister, summer,
Form:
Blank verse
Perhaps the most inane entities contrived by the human race,
(Leaving folks wondering why they must meet in the first place),
Are the interminable meetings of committee, panel and board,
Convening for hours leaving participants bleary-eyed and bored!
For many boards, committees and panels, alas, I was drafted,
Sitting through them with eyes glazed as my mind drifted and wafted,
Listening to self-appointed experts spewing their hide-bound views.
What they were babbling on about I had no interest nor any clues!
We could take a few lessons from some of God's creatures.
The lowly ant could be one of our greatest teachers.
Legions of those little fellers get the job done with precision,
Without convening a commission or panel for every decision!
Observe the busy honey bees toiling in the fields and hives.
They have no useless commissions or boards obfuscating their lives!
With precision and organization they go about their employ,
Producing delectable cones of honey for us to steal and enjoy!
If thinking of me for a meeting, include me out, don't call!
For I am not the least bit interested and am not inclined at all,
To sit and hash over useless stuff that usually doesn't matter,
And listening to hours and hours of inane and vacuous patter!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
convening, funnyme,
Form:
Rhyme
Many eyes saw me pass, as I rode by
My reasons have fallen, like a brick house with nobody inside
Myself, I am nothing, a mere echoing of You
Yet I insist tis’ our first meeting and that you’ve left me clue
So again we return to this
This Being that incessantly persists
Where no words reach, yet all language subsists
As a hand, silent as the wind gently kissing passed leaves
She journeys through our myst
Convening the plenum as we breath
At night she rests in her natural state,
Yet we upon this rock have gone amiss
Saturated, once again within her tears,
Our purpose her bliss
And life sings its song across the cosmic ocean
For I to witness
Oh if the air could speak...
Categories:
convening, me,
Form:
Free verse
Divine messengers from Elders past
beget humane muses of culture.
Prophetic win/win messages
perform and engage
redevelop and reconnect
guardian health systems
and wealth networks.
Proactive passionate verbs
pleasing domesticated nouns
together speak co-relational language,
recreating exegesis of re-ligioning life
spread and stretched between
flaming hot love and stone-cold hate.
Creolizing messages shaping defense
of polycultural adventures
reshaping offense
of too omnipotent monocultures.
Divine words
reweaving boddhisatva co-messiahs
guardians of healthy cooperative virtues,
EarthTribe's re-convening
naturally discerning spirited kindness,
indigenously wise
re-ligioning FatherSun
EarthMother root feeling
crown thoughtful
mind/body fullness.
Transcendent/immanent
enlightened/empowering
messengers to and from our Elder guardians,
trees shaken by breeze,
sapient squirrels chased by bluejay girls,
light shadowed by co-refining night.
Divine FatherSun
re-connecting enlightened messages
re-ligioning EarthMother sage
co-messianic musicians.
Categories:
convening, angel, anger, creation, gospel,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
IMAGINARY FRIENDS
Consider reaching up and
placing your hand in the
night sky
or seeing and touching
sound
flying furiously fast…
too high
summiting to
imaginary friends
Envisage palettes of neon
colours spinning out of
control
or eating speech as it
floats
bubbling inspirations
in scroll
convening with
imaginary friends
Imagine dreaming awake
navigating thoughts through
sunrise
or hearing calm embrace
sooth
until the quiet screams
polarise
dismissing all
imaginary friends
© Kim van Breda
Categories:
convening, self,
Form:
Narrative
The sky is dark and foreboding
the sky of the night waits
The eerie shape of the moon is hidden
When suddenly a small chink appears
a weak light is projected downward
getting stronger by the minute
In that shaft of light is the shadow
of a bird carrying in its beak
an olive branch he flies off
towards the fighting zone
where the heads of
Government are convening
Dropping the branch on the table
he chirps then flies off to wait.
Categories:
convening, peace, light, light, sky,
Form:
Verse
Reddening eyes of mine
Now thine,
Swathed by the unfurled truth, though
Embosomed by the darkness of
Disguise,
Now I shalt see what tramples
Inside…
Amidst a misty, ravening sky,
Convening ebony lies,
Contorting like rumbling thunder,
Veneering and shredding
The dark, cobalt portrait,
Like talons they
Imply…
Breezes of croons,
Swiftly they swoon
And lay themselves
Poised upon arid grounds,
They lay with empty sounds…
Swindling fear,
Void…
“Breathe thy power upon my skin,
Breathe virtue, breed intuition within…
Open my eyes… open my reddening eyes!”
“I have seen… I have realized…”
Ebbing void, Ebbing darkness,
As they fade into the mirror…
Categories:
convening, angst, hope, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
No sun sets before a whistle calls
Inviting ears to the hat that echoes cries
With unlinsable eyes that rain oceans drowning the nose
While out still the whistle seeks replies
The crowd absorbs the deflecting sound in the night
Where the only mic is the preacher convening the ceremony
Then the whistle blows again when the sun casts bright
To remind those who forgot to summon
Not only the elders are alert by the whistle
But also hoes and shovels along with their boys
That assist in digging an underground castle
For only the burial takes with it a whistles voice
That whistle is gone come not another
But no sun sets before a whistle echoes skies
As to day it's them, tomorrow it's us, let's go gather
To the house that echoes cries.
Categories:
convening, community, death, funeral,
Form:
Rhyme
Dandelions comfort the bee,
lying beneath the aged oak tree.
Donating nectar by the hedge,
convening at the water’s edge.
Turtles eat the dandelion,
soon a state of oblivion.
The stuffed turtles slide off the ledge,
convening at the water’s edge.
The tree had no one to care for,
no flower or turtle anymore.
Its life cut short by axe and wedge,
convening at the water’s edge.
Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Categories:
convening, nature
Form:
Kyrielle
As writers, our life is a book of how seductive our image can assuredly be.
It chronicles how effortless it is, to emerge as seduced off of any significant episode because of the behavior our society is nowadays.
Should we display a mimicry of that novel chapter?
A spiritual crisis will monopolize every hypothesis of our scripted lives.
It will transpose it to be fabricated and that all there ever were, was genuine emptiness.
We will then seize a conclusion in our lives wherever conviction accepts its governance on us.
We shall endure through all that, unearthing ourselves in a crudely lit enclosure, convening at a desk with the spotlight on...
...a blank piece of paper.
2019 November 25
Categories:
convening, analogy, meaningful,
Form:
Narrative
Ella Cuthbert lived with her husband John, in an age of twinkling stars;
They had a little dog named Alfie, who loved riding in pretty, swift cars.
Alfie was loved by those who knew him, as red flowers charm adorers;
And he was the darling of their street, like rainbows, crossing borders.
The Cuthberts had many interests, and on lazy days they were content,
To rove summer streets with Alfie, wondering where blue violets went!
Friends do not go out of style, as the glittery, memory stars, flash lime.
They found fun activities for Fridays, when pearl moon began to climb.
Funky family visited feature-rich evening, in faultless days of summer;
Amidst feasibly fragrant, flambe flowers, swaying to sudden thunder.
Ella lived in a house of barking, at motley windows of Alfie excitement,
Where bluebirds and ruby butterflies met, on mysterious assignments.
Sea salt added flavor to sweet breezes, on the street of Port Goodbye;
That overlooked white sand and surf, where stars peeked, like a spy.
Nervous night and day were newlyweds, at the dawn of fading dreams.
Later filled with novelty and notions, and neighbors, amidst sunbeams.
'Mountain devils' bloomed wickedly red, in the beautiful Blue Mountains,
Aptly shaped blue puya blooms, trumpeted sunrise, near cool fountains.
Purple 'surprise lilies' were stunners, appearing abruptly the world over,
When the rare 'parsley fern' was savored, like beautiful, coming closer.
Eager Ella called Alfie one day, but was dismayed at getting no answer!
Yet, a hole under their fence said a lot, like a scented, blooming planter.
Crushed Ella and John went searching, like the spotlight of pearl moon.
Though posters offered a reward, they felt anxiety, on the edge of June.
Then woeful Ella finally uttered the words, that became a beloved rhyme;
Like when riotous spring blooms come early, sweetly ahead of their time!
After a week, Alfie was found at last, in the thrill of mockingbird evening;
When a lady chanced to read his collar, when pink stars were convening!
'Oh, where, oh, where
Has my little dog gone?
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?
With his ears cut short
And his tail cut long,
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?
Oh where, oh where
Has my little dog gone?
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?'
Categories:
convening, dog, family, fantasy, imagery,
Form:
Couplet
Cull the herd
But be aware
More will follow
More who dare
Men aspire
Each position
Need we call them
Politician
Can we stop
The lies convening
Is there anyone
All-seeing
Route be damned
The ship off course
We've been fated
This remorse
Vote him down
But look once more
Those replace him
By the score
Categories:
convening, people, political,
Form:
Quatrain
But by grace do I shadow your form
from each darkened night to bright-lit morn.
You're silvery-white in my life's storm
hosting shivery thoughts yet unborn.
Would that my pen divine such meaning,
enflame fiery feelings unbidden
that stun me dumb at their convening.
My emotions revealed, unhidden.
Yet my disguise is opaque it seems.
You cross a transcendental realm –
unspoken vesper in sacral dreams
that never attains its lofty helm.
Someday, I know you will understand
my passionate affection for you -
How my heart bleeds with tender demand,
unformed entanglement to pursue!
My ink is flowing hoping to charm,
My poem an aphrodisiac.
Unwritten rhymes planning to disarm
and attract you to my love lilac.
Though you're beyond my bewitching reach,
I devote this unsung ode to us.
My dear, with unsaid words I beseech -
Let's join our hearts without further fuss.
Categories:
convening, crush, dedication, desire, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
A POET'S CRUSH - collaboration with Linda Alice Fowler
But by grace do I shadow your form
from each darkened night to bright-lit morn.
You're silvery-white in my life's storm
hosting shivery thoughts yet unborn.
Would that my pen divine such meaning,
enflame fiery feelings unbidden
that stun me dumb at their convening.
My emotions revealed, unhidden.
Yet my disguise is opaque it seems.
You cross a transcendental realm –
unspoken vesper in sacral dreams
that never attains its lofty helm.
Someday, I know you will understand
my passionate affection for you -
How my heart bleeds with tender demand,
unformed entanglement to pursue!
My ink is flowing hoping to charm,
My poem an aphrodisiac.
Unwritten rhymes planning to disarm
and attract you to my love lilac.
Though you're beyond my bewitching reach,
I devote this unsung ode to us.
My dear, with unsaid words I beseech -
Let's join our hearts without further fuss.
Categories:
convening, crush, poetess,
Form:
Rhyme