Best Eye Of The Hurricane Poems
THE DALLAS COWBOYS
Can you not hear the rumblings of that distant herd coming,
The loud thundering of destiny’s champions crossing, the NFL
Field of dreams, beware the rampaging lightening team known
As the Dallas Cowboys, for they are the hail storms victorous
Breed, the eye of the hurricane riders, searching for their
Well-deserved trophy of fortunes honor!
Remove your cowboy’s hats of respect unto them, ladies
Curtsy with reverences motion, for these athletes are
Endurance’s best, and they shall overcome against
Any opposing finest challengers, these rangers of the
Old western traditions, that carry this country’s time
Honored name of the cowboy to the ultimate extreme,
Of skill and strength’s dexterity!
Dallas all plain drifters of purity’s valor, head to head
No bull horns about it, these are the champions of the
Gladiatorial games in the world of sportsmanship!
Yielding unto no oppositions combatants, these warriors
Hold their ground with distinctions sheer magnificence!
Let those world famous cheerleaders scream with every
Field goal achieved, for these beauties know that no
Other team in footballs annals will score, to the level
Of these good old boys, named by fame's hall of records,
The famous Dallas Cowboys, heehaw and God bless hum!
Now listen you city slicking team of sports hall of fameing
Seekers, you’d better go back to your home fields of
Advantages, for hear in this lone star state, we take no
Prisoners, and show no mercy to out lander's!
Here in the ALAMO state of freedoms calling,
We remember our heritage standing tall and
Proud against all odds, blazoned in bullets
Historical legends, our grand team barres
The name of fore-barriers proudly, those
Pioneer’s men known, as the all American
Cowboys!
These six-shooters whom rode the die hard tails,
Across a new world creating a country of freedom,
Where only the tumble-weeds rolled, and desert dust,
Coached a man’s thirst almost to madness!
Now in traditions sport of men, a new team of desperado’s,
Threatens this lone star state, but have no fear my fellow
Texans for our Dallas Cowboys will send them packing,
With a good old boy’s field goals smacking, so I’ll cheer
Them on, waving my hat in the evening air, yelling heehaw,
Go get hum boys!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FOR LINDA THE DESTROYER
ROCK ON SISTER POET
Resurrections lone fallen spiritual being, kneeling within the darkness of mine
Own tormented soul, broken, fractured at fetters ivory appendages, a flightless
Angelic Dark winged angel standing alone, weeping in the nights blackened clouds of utter blindness, a disarmed shield maiden of heavens grace!
Seeking the lightning storms final thrust of thunders rapture, my burnt scorched
Feathers descend cascading downwards, as melting leaves captured in the
Autumn winds of betrayals flame of the sinful heart, left unsheathed!
Virtue’s innocence lies slain in the battlefield of mercy’s shamed, shattered
Is the core of faith’s fragile child, lost amongst the hailing hurricane,
Battered and bruised, the white dove soars beyond clarity’s grasp!
Biting tears clash against the bare exposed flesh, stinging with malice’s
Hatred, as the face of God shuns this black fleeced lamb, whom broke
The vows promise, and interfered in the world of man!
Banished daughter of the light, unable to capture the winds of flight,
Transcendences none descendant trapped by the loving spirit
Willing to help the mortal being, begging for mercy’s compliance!
Yet shadowed by the dark illusions of the hastening storm of
Ignorance, she shed forgiveness tears on behalf of the unworthy,
For in the night humanities brethren turn away from the hungry,
Homeless, and the lost children that huddle within the darkness!
Thin are the clouds separation, as the storms rage begins to abate
Gods anger grows to the point of understandings loving, the grates
Of heaven casts shafts of grace, weakened by the hailing wake,
The lamb is unable to move amongst the silences eye of the hurricane!
Ever gently is lowered the cradle, the rocking crib of the healing
Miracle set at the flash points ushering of forgiveness, for the Shepard
Has reclaimed that which was lost!
In chorus spiritual assembly a small figure sings with heights
Reverence’s praise, and the master of the divine smiles
Upon this child of light, for her voice shines above all others,
For she is the fallen, now arisen with the wings
Of the outcastes singed!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Winds came with no warning
Vicious sound of voices whipping in circles
I struggle to shelter the needy
And in a flash-I'm gone
I'm in the eye of the hurricane
I see what others have closed their eyes to
I feel the volume of force that life gives us
Endlessly waiting to be thrown out
You hear what you want
But you cannot see the voice
It remains a mystery in your mind.
Chaos is twirling around
Something I had is lost
Lost in someone else's neglect
Scattered endlessly throughout the miles
Distance that will be unreachable to repair
The hardest moment is letting go
Even harder, is the pieces left in ones memories
Remorse catches you when you walk slow
Speed brings a faster ability to be sheltered
Unless you like the loneliness of the eye
In the eye of the hurricane, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : En el ojo del hurracan
(Ninth in the collection : Metafora del Desafuero, published – according to the editor, Alejandro
Duque Amusco – not in 1988, but in 1989, was awarded the « Premio Nacional de Poésia »
for 1989, on May 28, 1990. Bousono, as in these later free verse compositions, shows how
well he manages the long-breathed line, a clear contrast to the compact and elliptical earlier
verse, say, of the collection : Subida al amor. T. Wignesan)
The creatures of plenitude situated themselves holding their silence, the thrones of
inexplicability, exactly, therefore, in the very centre of the eye of the hurricane :
that doors be blown asunder, that windows be blown away,
that agonizing bodies in makeshift beds be smothered into oblivion,
half-dead widows, postmen who half-way in the act of delivering
the love letter which would definitely render us joyful,
the seat where the poor old grandmother was in the act of sitting
while sewing
the newly-born baby’s pony-tailed bonnet which turned around half-
way in the gusts,
the hurricane which uplifted love and all that was left of love :
letters, papers, leaves
of music,
lovers in coitus at the orgiastic acmé and the light,
when it began to dawn,
when the saxophone cleared its throat and commenced the beat of the
dance,
when everything on the stage in its place awaited the raising of the
curtain,
when the wedding was at the point of being consecrated, and the
priest was ready to offer his benediction : « el ite misa est »,
when within the following few moments the inexorable
ceremonial of the written formalities was about to be concluded
then, as I said,
and only then,
the hurricane unleashed its violence with rage, the incomprehensible
hurricane, and there stood still only the immoveable lucid eye,
separate, eminent, complete in its entire being, that by force of its
profundity had ascended to the exact point where it could
redeem its guilt,
the eye of reconciliation,
the eye of wisdom and suave serenity,
where the intact and silenced world sang
adorable and yet so beautiful without us,
necessary pretexts, notwithstanding, of its musical nature.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
In his eyes I see tomorrow
he is the holder of all my time
like beautiful stained glass
holding rainbow colored sand
His touch is healing and divine
like the warmest sun
in summer time
his words are like seashells
As they call out to lovers in the ocean
drifting along the tide to sandy beaches
he has found me anchored to him
holding me with his soft sensual kiss
I see the moon in mid-day now
shining right beside the sun
they over came the obstacles
of all the storms on the run
We are in the eye of the hurricane
where the sky is beautiful all day
enjoying our mystery
to the rest of the worlds dismay
He is the ink that now flows from my quill
I am the tapestry the ancients could never fill
together we are a master piece designed with our love
we are the ones who are well endowed in love
Stained glass masterpieces.
art inked with sand from above
two beautiful lives filled with God in trust
The lights went out.
The trees were torn.
The sky was gray.
The night was born.
The lightning crashed.
The thunder roared.
We were caught in the eye of the hurricane.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
We were caught by the lights that lit the sky.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
The rain cam down.
The thunder roared.
The rain came down.
The trees were torn..
The rain came down.
It crashed to the ground.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
We were caught in the eye of the hurricane.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
We were caught by the lights that lit the sky.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
As we watched the storm pass.
We watched the winds blow.
As we watched the storm pass.
We watched the storm grow.
We were caught in the eye of the hurricane.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
We were caught by the lights that lit the sky.
We were caught in the eye of the storm.
We were caught in the eye of the storm....
Stormy-Weather-Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1985,2014..ALL rights reserved..
Soon I will be traveling
To the valley of the stars
And the shoreline of the Milky Way
Where near connects to far.
My senses fading rapidly
As darkness closes in
Like a fog bank over mountain tops
Void of sound or wind.
Bow and arrow-headed past Polaris
Beyond Orion’s belt –
Galaxies beyond galaxies
Or anything yet seen or felt.
Star-dust bound to that forever now
Eternally timeless life and death –
To the Maker of matter and anti-matter
And giver of life and breath.
Minstrel of music, Painter of skies
One for All and All in One –
Where old is new as morning dew
And darkness and light come from.
Where departures are deceptive and death reflective
Of times and places we’ve known –
Where déjà vu’ is nothing new
And oceans turn to snow.
Where once upon a mystery
In those early Christian miles –
I heard Jesus laughing and Buddha clapping
The day I learned to smile.
With Shiva dancing and Lipizzons prancing
In a wave-like, particle spin –
Where uncertainty turns to reality
And disappears like a by-gone wind.
Where stretching the bounds of life itself
Is a weirdly – wonderful ride –
Like falling from a roller coaster down below
And the bottom is nothing
but sky.
I’m going back there and everywhere
In the eye of the hurricane storm –
Into the realm of the looking glass
Where memories and dreams are born.
Where truth is a lie and fiction real
And proof is a playful thing –
Where telekinesis is more than a thesis
And the universe sparkles and sings.
And the warm Light of Transcendence and others in attendance
Wait where the river runs deep –
For another soul’s travel to try and unravel
How far we can go when we sleep.
Where yesterday lives with tomorrow today
And heaven is real as green grass –
For you, me and they and all who obey
In the laws of good nature that lasts.
Where consciousness resides love never dies
And home’s not a place but a thought –
Separation ended, hatred suspended
And nothing more needs to be sought.
Run, jump and frolic with childhood abandonment,
Grab down, that dusty old mason jar, recapture
The lightening in the bottle, of yesteryear’s remembrance.
Refresh one's youthful heart, in the memories evergreen
Pastures called imagination.
In the meadows of human thought, all remain young,
Release thy inner spiritual being, race the wind,
Feel it's liberation, brushing against your face once more.
Time stands still here, within this field of dreams,
The eye of the hurricane is set aside,
Within this lulling of the life's stormy seas,
Reality ceases to exist, in this fairytale never land.
Shed every layers aged texture, be as one reborn,
A kindred reflection of the child of innocence, lying
Within thy inner self.
Relive pleasure's laughter from long ago, when troubles
Were unknown, only glee and happiness lived in our
Realm of true joy.
Let the pain of heartache float away, as bubbles drifting
From the palm of your hands, than popping
Unto air's nothingness.
Come recapture the lightening within the bottle,
Chasing those glowing ageless memories, and relive
A lighter time in your life, infuse one's youth again,
Entrap that fragile spark, in a glass mason jar,
A delicate tinder box, flickering within all of us,
Whom wish to stay forever young.
Shatter that thin pain between these worlds,
Keep the youthful fire burning, let it shine through,
In all it's brilliance to touch all those surrounding thee,
Enlightening every heart around you, embracing them
And enriching their lives.
Oh what harmonious music lies in a child's laughter,
So free, so liberated, without cares restrictions,
Look into the beautiful eyes of the kindred, and remember.
A time when one chased the fireflies, in a timeless meadow
Of thought, run, jump and frolic with childhood abandonment,
Once more, and feel alive reborn.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
I had no idea it was love I was falling in,
But through the freefall I saw his eyes,
And from the eye of the hurricane we stood within,
He saw through my every disguise.
He bent my will and lit up my sky;
His thunder silenced my fear.
Coppery clouds have me wondering why
His violent storm makes my eyes see so clear.
Broke me and fixed me, he promised to carry
My burdens tattooed on his veins;
He was the thunderstorm in the valley
And I was the girl who smelled like rain.
Tossed about through the turbulence of life,
Confusion remains to search for a seed.
As if the eye of the hurricane seeks direction,
Only to find no compass for its need.
Does this curious resolve weaken & wobble,
Or grow stronger through the effort & quest ?
While every response creates another,
And chaos may contribute to severely test.
The desire that looks to an unknown horizon,
May often see emptiness to follow despair.
Yet choice must pierce through this fog & veil,
With enough light that can guide to remain fair.
This journey is seldom without consequence,
As obstacles become present and abound.
So whether hurdled, avoided, or plowed through . . .
Overcoming them must be found.
While the question remains fundamental,
There are billions of answers to be observed.
With each one's unique testament,
Tracing a morality rarely hidden or reserved.
Ultimately, this inquiry is survived upon,
By those to judge while reflecting their own view.
Just as current events & history tend to remind us . . .
Not everything seen or heard is always true.
As gold encircles the last blades of grass
Busses patrol for the maiden class
The world awakes the cigars burn out
Peace falls second to chaos downtown
The cats then chase their tails till dusk
Certain of promises will be kept in trust
Dreaming the dreams of reality kings
Of absolute truths and biblical things
But those who call the darkness their day
Prefer the eye of the hurricane
Like a fresh fallen snow that reposes the fields
That silences the highway beyond the hills
A piece of the moon most never will know
To call the stillness of night their own
Oh what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw truth tellers doxed, and their addresses listed
I saw images on my cellphone put on by the twisted
I saw a prophet wailing as he was dragged to the madhouse
I saw madmen gaining all the levers of power
I saw wolves out of jail while their victims cower
I saw fools arm in arm with those who would kill them
I saw indoctrination vultures above me turning
Know-it-alls told me what to think, but I wasn't learning
I saw a meteor of old glory barely burning
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard desperate fathers called domestic terrorists
I heard speech is violence and violence is speech
I heard the fury of a woman scorned
I heard a prediction of vengeance, a new weapon borned
I strained my ears in the eye of the hurricane
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'll hike through the garden with high rising fountains
I'll go off into the forest, and up the mountains
I'll swim cross the ocean, and glide on the river
I'll raft the white water, before the oncoming slaughter
And it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall...
Knowing eye of the hurricane is still,
Heart’s tranquil in the void of cessation,
Simply allowing God to do His will.
All that’s manifest, is God’s creation.
The table’s laid, everything’s ready made;
Heart’s tranquil in the void of cessation.
We search for joy, that with time does not fade;
Enabled when we choose to surrender.
The table’s laid, everything’s ready made.
Have we felt not within, silent thunder?
Bliss, as in scriptures, ours for the asking,
Enabled when we choose to surrender.
Ceasing striving, ending multitasking,
We feel heightened rapture, within resume;
Bliss, as in scriptures, ours for the asking.
Employing free will, to cravings exhume,
Knowing eye of the hurricane is still,
We feel heightened rapture, within resume,
Simply allowing God to do His will.
10-April-2022
AN ORIGINAL TERZANELLE Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
stuck in the eye of the hurricane
in eerie slow motion
while at helter skelter speed
unforgivingly relentless
deliberate its devastation
overnight
the shock sinks in
a silence shuddering
seeping to every depths
of days numbered
uttering its new reality
left shaken to its very core
the aftermath inconceivable
global extermination averted
or likely just delayed
AP: 1st place 2021
Submitted on February 11, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (FEB 12) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Here are some questions, dear poets on Poetry Soup. As we look in within, we may find answers we have been looking for, beyond narrow conditioning and dogmatic beliefs. There can be more than one ‘right answer’ and of course, we can always silently choose the invisible fifth option ‘none of the above’. Be that as it may, it suffices that we’re peeping into our soul.
Ramana had queried ‘Who am I?’
a) we are this body identity
b) we are the thoughts streaming through us
c) we are a subset of a race or religious order
d) we are eternal living light, encased in five sheaths
What is the noumena wherefrom arises phenomena?
a) an unknown God said to be omnipresent
b) the word, as said in John 1.1
c) the cosmic egg, Hirayangarbha
d) there are no ‘others’; we are in a lucid dream
Given that God is omnipresent, He must be within. Where is He hiding?
a) in the cave of our heart as love
b) within the region of head as awareness
c) at our navel, radiating power
d) as our breath, heartbeat and magnetism enabling life
What does God look like?
a) Jesus. He must be Jesus only and no other
b) The holy trinity representing love, wisdom and power
c) Space and time entwined ~ the eternal witness
d) Soft white, all pervading living light
What lies beyond death?
a) the heavens we have been told about
b) nothing. We are extinguished.
c) the astral and casual realms
d) there is no death. Body dies, we, as soul, live on
What is Turiya, the fourth state?
a) we know only of waking, dreaming and deep sleep
b) it is the unchanging screen of awareness
c) a singularity defying delineation
d) silence and stillness ~ eye of the hurricane
What is the Kundalini or Chi or Holy Spirit?
a) there is no such thing
b) it is the Divine Mother, kinetic aspect of God’s energy
c) don’t ask please. This question offends my beliefs
d) the three terms of the question are not interchangeable
If all be one, why does everything seem dualistic?
a) dance of polarities in the womb of existence
b) veil of maya
c) creation of thought
d) well, it is dual. We are each a separate entity.
Hope you enjoyed!
27-January-2023
The Multiple Choice Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Suzanne Delaney