Best Folds Poems
Dark Earth Folds In The Heart's Red Bloom
You and I and all we do
Know not, til our hearts are through
The press of life, what things we be
Root or leaves or shade of tree.
You and I and all we seem
May be but as a drift of dream
In the eyes of One who gave
Self to love and love to save,-
Yea, all the deeds that men have wrought
Mere flower of dream, flame of thought,
Break of waves on a drear shore,
Scent of the wild rose on the moor.
Yet we have seen, and hold it sure,
That out of shame come forth the pure;
Dark earth folds in the heart's red bloom;
In vain, we build the soul a tomb.
R.J. Lindley
1976 or 77 ?
Time folds inwards,
like paper cranes in cosmic flight.
Time folds inwards—
a twist of clocks in glass-bound wards,
its orbit skewed by quantum might.
We dream in loops by neon light—
Time folds inwards.
The hills are clothed in gleaming folds of white,
With flow'rs, whose heady fragrance fills the air:
The spring has come, the sun pours out his light
On three small children playing without care.
The girl weaves knots of flowers in her hair,
Her brothers tumble down the hills and play;
They each enjoy the spring their special way.
{January 3d, 2014}
A river folds upon its banks
with waters deep and cold.
Its molten flow rolls endlessly
from aquifers untold.
It ripples over ancient stones
placed when the earth was cast.
Each sheared and formed the bedrock's course
'neath outflows bold and fast.
Swift currents know of time's slow ebb,
and legends never told.
Its surface gleams beneath the sun
of sagas being scrolled.
The sky above has seen the work
of time's artistic hand,
and knows the melding and the strength
of water and the land.
An ancient bending vein of life
connected with the wold,
that shields enigmas deep as time
in runnels which enfold.
Roll on past hill and fertile land
'til deltas cease your course.
The river and the woodlands speak
of life's primordial source.
Nov. 2014
Common Verse
Fountain of mercy yet fading away
Valleys of hospitality just sometimes display
Obesity of hope are now emaciating
Pervading of kindness yet vanishing..
Ocean of conflicts may always portray
Ashes of pains are always in bonds
Monument of grandeur may lead astray
The field of opportunities may sometimes run...
The joy of life are feared to be gone
Victory on things exalted the man
The bonds of glory may seldom display
The clusters of beauty illumines the day...
The bunch of laughs may taken away
Yet, candid happiness will always stay.
An interval of quietude; she sleeps,
caressed by copper curls in silk cascade.
Observing beauty in her calm, he weeps,
remorseful of impassioned hands he laid.
From searching eyes, secluded pain she hides,
within her mind, love's solemn vow replayed.
Through purest skin, dark cast of anger rides,
wrapped safely 'neath soft folds of green brocade.
Breath falls, as into endless void she slips,
unable to withstand the next tirade.
A tear-stained note in resting hand she grips,
'My love, forgive the final choice I made'
03/20/2009
I decided to resurrect this write after reading The Highlander's excellent poem 'She Internally Weeps'.
A similar theme but quite a different outcome.
As a young teen I sadly confess, I dreamt of becoming an actress.
A class assignment drew me to Warner's in D.C., where I
brushed up against black history..
I stumbled into a meeting of the NAACP.
The people welcomed one out of touch, this
young white girl who had way too much..
Months later, although mom's words were harsh my dad and I
went to the Poor Peoples March. I was amazed to see thousands there,
those pop up tents from every where. I drove by with peripheral vision,
those fleeting glimpses of how others were living..
Early years passed and I matured some how, remaining oblivious to "black
power".
I graduated from high school and was freed from mom and watched as
several of my class mates went straight to Viet Nam..
I never went to Woodstock nor protested the war, too caught up in my
story to care about the poor..
I moved from sheltered Silver Spring to New York City and had my own
adventures there, some not very pretty..
I indulged in a little "huffing and puffing". My hands were in a wheat film
buttering an English muffin..
Impulsiveness and hormones got the best of me so at a young age I
began my family..
Many moons later while finishing my degree I learned so much more
about Black history. As a minority student at Bowie State I had a teacher,
Dr. Kondo and he was truly great. He had just consulted for the film
Malcolm X and filled me in on all those voids not written in the texts.
The greatest of gifts that one can bestow is to take off those blind folds
and help some one grow.
bright summer days fold
long dark veils shroud every hour---
as winter shrinks in
I cannot see the trees,
nor a single leaf,
nor the grass that ripples like water
in some half-forgotten dream,
dear people, I cannot see at all,
no one,
nor full recall:
the meaning of laughter,
the miracle of love,
the warmth of a smile,
skin, the otherness
of a lover, of a friend, of family,
even strangers, people...
I am blind,
lost in the folds of myself,
in the folds of madness
Sun goes down until twilight hours of dawn
under the light of a corner street lamp.
A performance stage, casts, leading me on.
Awestruck audience at the fickle vamp.
Pacing back and forth in high-heels to heat
every wink of the night, vain, among men;
I snap, pop my gum and tap as my feet
meet the pavement again-again-again.
A star, in the oldest known profession
as old as time in cobalt lambent light.
Easily drapery falls, no question
with fascination in an endless night.
Under the folds of satin and night skies,
my Prince Charming forevermore, my prize.
1/17/2019
Poetry Contest: Movie Magic
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
Pretty Woman, Julia Roberts
O hollowing gales,take me to the breathtaking sights
Where dreams abide and love resides
in the ensemble of butterflies
and beautiful summer skies
where morining sparrows narrate the lore of romantic lovers
and sunny spells were followed by scattered showers
you are my queen in both realms
In reality and in my dreams
Where the days are inlets of pleasure
and nights have all the hidden treasure
if love is in the heart
someday it will burst into art
Where the oceans are rising with passion
and the lovers are treated with compassion
As you knocked on my heart
every ounce of my being fell apart
Where hearts are dancing with glee
under the lovely shades of chinar tree
Let me taste different flavours on the tongue
In the folds of green and young
07-02-2022
I can see you in the corner of my eye
I will keep you here as long as you like
will you respond to my calling?
How will I know you are the one?
what are my intentions?
another path that leads to the house?
another house that is the same house
where the floor is torn away
where I can see the cars and other worlds go by
O
To hold you in this place
stars streaming in real time
I am longing for the dawn
of a sun I have never seen
we lived before the moon
remember the time spent in the sea?
under the crashing waves
I can tell it is you
when can we talk together
like I talk to this page?
will you find me,
will I find you finding me?
in the basement, the attic ,
or on the wings of a great bird
I fly to you in my delirium
when my spirit hits my matter
when the folds of my cloth collide with the firmament
we will know
Heart Folds
Beginning so small
this mound of tissue
time's perpetual resuscitation
life's bellows for passion
protection's engine of flow
So simple its form
this muscle of pulsation
innocent of harm's way
liquid breathing of body's dependence
wanting only to maintain tomorrow's awakening
Sentries stand guard
immunity's breach driven back
poisons held at bay
health and longevity made secure
So flickers this flame of flesh
resisting winds that might extinguish spark
designed impervious for decades to come
until the kiss
Fold one
Intrusion of passion
begs emancipation of opened heart
as anguish of unrealized pleasure
hints
but
withholds consent
Rhythms explode
prying open the chambers of mind
exposing the unknown magic
inner eye bliss
distinction
disruption
dysfunction
bends arch back on themselves
Fold two
More kisses
pausing ventricles to stop
breath taken away
glimpses of forever
Until
Folds become pleated
become a chaos of creases
Wrinkles constrict passion's meadow of bliss
tributaries of spirit become dry beds of fossil remains
Will reason ever concede
to love's unspoken treatise
heart's hidden secret of survival
Or
Forever remain but love's monitor
life's data bank of questions without answers?
How precious the newborn heart
How precarious its journey
Ain't a illusion but reality,
Your stardom, your limelight,
Your rich folks and my shame dress,
My heart begging tears to shed.
Ain't a Jack in box I promise
But a fairy light lost in spotlight,
All you were a short lived fantasy
While December joyed and February weeped.
Ain't a Silhouette but a soulful dream
Of my life's road driven in forest,
But Blind Folds on my glistening light,
Taking steps on pebbles of your life.
For your shining flashy life
On Billboard of my long night,
I'll keep our pictures hidden forever
So you can step in brightest smile.
unwindling deeds sweep through four man's cross
washing away the wrong i have done in tross
over the misty moutian tops i have walked stubbling over all rocks, the loss of
balance knocks
walking in my shoes and gaze around in a look down
i have found that i stand alone on this sacred ground
all messages unpassed clown
openly giving evreything i ever had in my possion
allthough all i have is blind intention
i seperate the emachatude of wisdom an intelect
i was born into toleration and inprisonment
i have strived too for the mercy that was never given or shown
i will not return home for i have long been forgoten
could i should i would i
no