Best Grasped Poems
Notus comes creeping furtively from the south
hot and bothered from the blazing summer sun.
The wind of change...concealed it launches sudden storms
as clouds pile up across the sky, dark and towering,
lightning flashes, thunder drawls, torrential rain descends;
rivers swell to bursting point; fields are swamped, crops destroyed.
Then once again he sneaks away, planning his next move.
His neighbour, Eurus, wants to show he’s no less able.
Bearing his inverted earthen vase he goes along
clumsy in gait and spilling water on dry soil.
His forays from the east tend to be unlucky.
Autumn fades with a sigh on Aura’s gentle wings
as ice-cold winter rushes in impatiently
from northern frozen lands to take its place
goaded by the domineering force of Boreas
who moves ahead with strong, intense authority,
his violent temper uncontrolled. Despite his age
he pushes his galloping stallion to the limit
riding forth relentlessly, cloak billowing behind,
his white beard curled; shaggy hair spiked and frosted.
Roaring, across the land he speeds with utmost haste,
a sacred conch shell grasped firmly in steely hand;
tremendous power he exerts and blows aloud
while humans cower in dark caverns, shivering.
They know his moods and fear his devastating wrath.
In their minds, princess Oreithyia’s forced abduction,
rape, and carnal satisfaction are still fresh.
They yearn for winter’s bitter ally to move on
so that the gentle Zephyr enters from the west
bringing with him rainbows and showers of spring,
calm serenity, greenery, flowers, shades and hues,
romantic feelings, fiery passion and intense love.
Ultimately, all four have to heed and appease
King Aeolus, firm ruler and keeper of the winds.
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*Aura = breeze goddess
*Oreithyia = mountain Nymph
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18th December 2014
Contest: Gods of Winds
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placed: 2nd
Forgive me for loving you, even though you never asked,
a secret kept like a pebble in my shoe, now smarting.
If heart dares to belong, it's just a weakness from my past.
Make scars worth the fight, put back the pin from grenade you grasped,
moment of truth arrives, met with two lips bruised and parting.
Forgive me for loving you, even though you never asked.
I thought I walked the streets alone, wearing a grotesque mask.
You were inside me all along, sweet message imparting.,
if heart dares to belong, it's just a weakness from my past.
How I've missed your awaited touch, and hoping it would last,
our sun grant'd pardons galore, for love's kindled restarting.
Forgive me for loving you, even though you never asked.
I didn't say why I came back, you never took me to task.
tho' written in an inkling, the tear your eye was guarding..
if heart dares to belong, it's just a weakness from my past.
You never miss something until it goes and die is cast.
Your present regifted, from a long ago departing.
Forgive me for loving you, even though you never asked.
If heart dares to belong, it's just a weakness from my past.
26 December 2020
What powers held me in this tortured love
Shame and excitement danced around me
Grasped by the cunning illusions, deceiving
My void self image, coercing my
Vanities until I believed the insideous lies
You robbed my soul, knowing
Your presence was sealed with death's kiss
Tossing and turning in the night
I let you back in no matter the cost
Oh, and this is good -
I pretended not to be hostage to your
Cunning facade of empty promises
Even letting you linger in the presence
Of my most cherished posessions
As they also became sick in your stench
Finally, enough denial and nearly destroyed
Still strong enough to rid myself of you
I see you for what you really are, a drag
Killer of desire, coaxing many
Also blinded by your evil
In the last hours of whatever life I have left
And the coffin is near, I'll wonder
Why I let you hold me for so long
I sense the fullness
in fleeting moments
At those rare times
I'm able to let go of me
The ebbs and flows
of non linear thinking
when I am part of the everything
I was born to be
For within the simple
Magnificence is grasped
The beginning precedes an ending
that in the future will be passed
Over and under
all the spaces in between
If we look only with our eyes
the answers won't be seen
Quiet is not time wasted
each moment we have has been lent
Some things don't require saying
Through actions we learn what is meant
Feel the power of pausing
Within a moment thoughts can crystallize
By choosing to listen with intention
We learn the wheres and whys
Observations is much more important
then any of my (me)s or (I)s
I often get lost within my own talking
and hold onto my wordy lies
When I use a different kind of perspective
I hear the whispering of the Wise
Floating upon eternal verses
as within my being they steadily rise
Viewing the mosaic of all creation
The wonder of how all things interconnect
the order of God's magnificence
creates inner peace and Holy respect
My thoughts are no longer singular
Like droplets of water ideas collect
The things in life most important
I see things I didn't expect
For no person is truly independent
Through God's grace we draw every breath
Here within this total miracle
I've witnessed God's width and His depth!
I believe our souls recognize our creator when we are in tune with God's Creation.
A week passed, yet no words drifted in my mind
I feared I'd become numb and poetically blind
so, I gave up, went to bed and turned off the light
but in the very next moment I screamed in fright!
"Procrastinator!" My Muse yelled, in a huff.
"You are made of much stronger stuff!"
I slid beneath the covers; she threw back the quilt.
"Oh no," she fumed, "you'll not fill me with guilt!"
I pleaded and cajoled, but she bought none of it.
She pulled out my desk chair and said, "NOW SIT!"
I obeyed and sat but nothing worthy came to mind.
I felt her staring at my back, 'twas of the evil kind.'
Desperately, I tried to conjure rhymes that would do.
She sighed then she asked, "What's wrong with you?"
I turned my head to look at her so we could confer,
but she shimmered away in a wavy transparent blur.
I called to her, and reached out trying to pull her near
My arms grasped only air, for she had disappeared.
"Come back, please. I'm sorry I've not been writing,
but thoughts you've offered lately are all about fighting."
She reappeared smiling, and before she took flight,
whispered in my ear, "Just pick up your pen and write."
I stood on the step by the unopened door
Far from the meadows that precede the shore
Grasped tight the railing I longed to explore
Searching for truth in the lies
Looked at the mat as it welcomed me in
Wondering when all of this would begin
Washed up and worried and covered in sin
One that the world would despise
Juggled a dish after dropping the spoon
Spotlights were shining, they lit up the room
Still not enough for this unending doom
Praying the end would be near
Paced cross the stage as the audience stared
Thinking I saw one who looked like she cared
Checking my pockets for things that I shared
Knowing not what I might hear
Then like a siren but quieter still
Came forth a voice that presented a thrill
When on my spine formed the funniest chill
Just as she called out my name
Chris, was the echo, a melodic song
I have been waiting for you for so long
Something like this surely cannot be wrong
I don't care who is to blame
I took her hand and my heart skipped a beat
Who would have thought that an angel I'd meet
Me, oh so sour and her, oh so sweet
She must have come from above
Then I awoke with a yawn layered scream
Only a nightlight providing the gleam
All of this poem was merely a dream
Waking before I found love
She came to me in the noon day sun..
her world wistful, longing for an unsung quiet.
But I would not remain still, nor silent,
though her hours in life, never meant for long.
Desperately I grasped her up in loving embrace..
And in her arms cried, please let her remain!
I offered myself in sacrifice to assuage,
but enchanted sirens called sweetly, come.,
and left me alone on an empty stage.
Once upon an ancient time,
in long gone languid days,
when distant misted myths bechanced
in lovely rhym'ed ways,
when time was so much freer,
less allotted to the minute,
‘twas then the mighty Big Mac got the gherkin in it.
The night was one made fit for gods,
and stars made white the sky,
and drunk, dylsexic old McDonald
sang Oh Eee, Oh Eee, I.
His greatest yet creation
sat on his barbie plate,
it was the mighty Big Mac with no inkling of its fate.
McDonald thought the pattie lacked
a certain...
Il ne savait pas.
He decided what he'd give it was this green thing from a jar.
But Big Mac cried out, ‘Hang about!
I like the way I am!
And I think that what I need the least is a prostate gland exam.'
McDonald growled, ‘Don't be a sook!
It's not gonna hurt a bit.
Just close your eyes and grit your teeth and keep loose where you sit.'
Big Mac firmly grasped his bun
and held it really tight,
he had Phallicvegiephobia and would resist with all his might.
But McDonald was too smart by far,
Big Mac was not his match,
the old bloke snuck up from behind to by surprise him catch.
Beneath an unsuspecting arm
he gave a little tickle,
the burger gave a little laugh and got a little pickle...
So the Big Mac we all know today
was born of subterfuge.
And although the gherkin in it aint really all that huge,
remember that it's only there
by the skullest of skullduggery,
and that bit we discard's the fruit
of midnight burger buggery.
We talked at length
The hours we passed
The life you lived
Oh the horrors
So many men's live snuffed
Oh Arizona, a dedication
Whose souls be at rest
Amidst oily scum
And so many others
Sightless eyes watch
The world in disintegration.
Yes, you’ve seen
Many unimaginable horrors
Those only Man can inflict
You’ve grasped my heart
I watched you whither away
A hero by all accounts
God rest your soul
Oh gentle man.
God rest ye gentle man.
My heart aches
With your passing
Now I have your cherished one
She that you know
Rested in my heart
For years and years and years
The one that tended you
All that time
Oh yes, that woman of women
She is in my arms
Forever… my very first love
The thought of whose love
Brings tears to my eyes
Together… finally…
Forever.
Never
Worry…
Never
Forget…
Just so you know…
Semper Fidelis... you are my hero Donald Canan,USMC, WWII veteran Western
Pacific... he told death to get bent. May God Rest your soul.
Salutations to all the poets
That waters my ink,
Those whose words never
Make my heart shrink,
Of you always i ever will think,
Standing alone, i could sink
So i grasped on your knowledge
That is without stink.
*=~*~=*
Phyllis Babcock is a raining day,
In her Motherhood, no
Hot sun to hinder my play.
Carolyn Devonshire is a rose flower,
Tender Mother and even from afar, her
Lightening Ink draws me closer.
*=~*~=*
Linda Marie, the Sweet heart of P S,
Is the essence of love letters
Her poems are like the good weathers,
Constance La France is indeed a rambling poet,
No wonder,her lines drives me to the point,
Doris Culverhouse won my heart,
She trades literature,
The poet Destroyer kills me
With Ink, a poet by nature.
Dr. Ram Mahta is a poetic chef,
He stirs the soup with delicious thoughts.
*=~*~=*
Heart dedication to all my poetic friends...
For your presence is like fragrance to my breath.
Gari La Buda, an inspiration, Richard Carrie, a melodious pen, Carol Brown, a steady one,
All of you are Lightening Inks.....
Adopted animals love their humans;
show it in many ways.
The tiniest pet,
revels in the harmony of its time,
with family.
Dinky was a special hamster;
she lived a year beyond the normal life span.
I carried her around in my pocket and she loved the ride.
Her head, peeking out, evoked curious comments
from all who glimpsed her.
She searched for me, when I was at school;
her knack for escaping the cage,
kept me searching for her in the afternoons.
I often found her, in my chest of drawers.
Of course, I found it odd,
but hamsters are four-legged, Houdini’s…
Dinky was the best.
One cold winter night, as I lay in slumber,
That tiny traveler made her way from,
one end of the house, to my bedroom.
I lay there, on that frosty eve,
dreaming that I was outside in the rain;
the chilling raindrops, dancing upon my arm.
In a moment of lucidity,
Reality hit; those raindrops were tiny paws!
I reached, grasped and in the shimmering moonlit rays,
I stared into the eyes of my new bed buddy.
A twitchy nose said it all…
”I found you!”
I moved her cage close by my bedside;
future escapes faded into history.
Excitement echoed
In my heart
First experience
Of being a part
Now looking back to
Those times, thoughts
Flood like the cold rain
And ties me in knots
Enthusiastically
Grabbing the end
Of the crosscut saw
Helping hand to lend
He let me slowly pull
From my point of
View, I carried my
Weight, without gloves
At seven years old
I felt a superb
Job was done by me
Now grasped being disturbed
He said to momma
Grab the other handle
I'm tired of the weight
Having her to manhandle"
Just a few short words
Made me feel
Inadequate, small
At times now inside I reel
Camaraderie
At other times shared
Loaded down with firewood
I knew he cared
Bringing in buckets
Of water
Fire starter, or feed
The cows some fodder
Forgiven years ago
But memories still haunt
That's why I write
To ease thoughts that taunt
Accept equality, admit to science
That you always believed -
Why wouldn’t love be free?
San Franciscans and summer lovers
Flocked here seeking illusion.
They saw pretty colors, but no truth.
I extended my hand, warmly
You grasped it, looking onward
To clover crowns and daisy chains.
There is no understanding of
The light in shaded eyes, or
Coy words slipped from tight lips.
Summers always end, she said.
We sighed, nodding off to dream,
Once more before the apocalypse.
-ARCantu, 05/25/2023
Believing
Written: by Miracle Man
December 6 2020
I remember the day I first began believing,
To things of this world I’d long been cleaving.
Cancer was camping in my right Parotid gland,
The day I grasped Jesus’ outstretched hand.
Cancer had branded and trademarked me,
Would I then fight back, or just take a knee?
But I knew, alone, I couldn’t beat this villain,
I needed the real deal, not an earthly fill in.
I fell down at His feet and started praying,
Knowing that He would hear what I was saying.
I wanted to be saved so I wouldn’t die lost,
I prayed forgive me Lord, whatever your cost.
I knew help would come only through His power.
and I accepted Jesus, as my savior, that hour.
I was twenty eight years during my hospital stay,
now at eighty two years I’m still alive today.
I Asked, Believed, and Confessed
I am very pleased to present a third collaboration with Robert Lindley,
an extraordinary poet who inspires and humbles me with his pen.
A Collaboration With Robert Lindley
27th October 2018
The root of the melancholy
he has not always known,
and perhaps, with strangers
and with unknown strangeness,
he has embraced its love
and loved its hateful wounds.
He prides the strength resting his bones,
the iron-glove that wields power grasped
in his haste to taste its honeyed glow,
anticipation seeds ever greater destruction
as horrific night dreams eat into oblivion.
The root of the melancholy
she has occasionally known,
and surely, among bitter foe
and boon companions lost,
she has lurched painfully from it
and pained herself yet more.
Blind to the curse, she begs for more
sharpening blades to spew the red,
eager for battle yet fearful the result
she prays dark gods lend power, not gold,
as dawn awaits its inevitable relief.
The wounds of devils not false
but gods surely true
persist within the marrow
of abject, seething, mortal slaves,
and morbidly caress and torment,
and the leaves are bitter as the root.
For in realms of dark - thirst so consumes
that even the chaff born from regret,
this the black seeds do replenish;
ever deeper moans from heartache and woes
resounding echoes from piercing stabs.
The hex is feverish as its birth.