Best Guilds Poems
In my white feathered coat, I look divine.
I hunt at night, but also in bright day.
My bold rounded eyes as gold amber shine.
Dawn guilds my broad wing span flying away.
Soaring silent I clear steep mountain's crest,
Then swoop with precision to snatch my prey.
My talons cling tight to my beating breast,
Till I feed my owlets a father's way.
Gliding high o'er Arctic tundra I roam.
Lemmings are known as my favorite quest.
Soon I will prepare a warm cozy home
In early May when I build a large nest.
There's danger of wolves and foxes when near,
The prime predators we snowy owls fear.
2-11-16
For Personification Owl contest by Eve Roper
Categories:
guilds, bird, nature,
Form:
Personification
Chill
of fall
is in the
air as summer's
greens retreat to keep,
until again she will
joyously repeat her shades
of verdant hues among the leaves
of elated trees that sing in Sun.
Yet every season bestows its joy
as autumn guilds the leaves in gold,
in rust and crimson too, in
majesty death beholds.
A harvest of the
seeds we have sown
we reap in
divine
gifts.
8-24-19
~First Place~
Categories:
guilds, autumn, beauty, death, joy,
Form:
Nonet
Soothing sliding silvered tides, fields of verdant; rolling co-inside..'
Beards of algae flow on wrecks, phosphorescence guilds the whitecap in flecks,
As a mirror shattered myriad shines, to uneven waves that crash in; times..'
Un-counted amounts of wash elapsed, endless etchings have surfs out; scratched..
I see the glimpses I hear that noise, in awe; I observe the power and poise,
Atlantic grey-green, Indian serge, pacific hued, I need to re-visit & become re-clued
The saline reeks, there are nets of fish, tootling tugs, low tide rippling in meek.'
Memories crowds... Of golden sands..' Ice cream, picnic baskets; beer and bands..'
Categories:
guilds, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes we want
to grow up fast.
Others we want our youth to
last.
Sometimes we want to change
the past.
Others we want to leave it
alone because it was such a
blast.
Either way, however you feel.
You have to find a way to cope
and deal.
Because life is a journey
Sometimes a competition, a
tourney.
along the way there are
things....
That beat up life and leave it
with dings.
Sadness awaits.
After all we cant change fate.
Tears racing down rosy red
cheeks.
Blinding us from seeing the
beauty of the snowy mountain
peak
Depression like lightning
strikes.
Down like a volleyball we
spike.
Anger and frustration builds.
Combining to form destruction
in guilds
All leading up to stress.
But remember you're always
blessed.
Remember all those bad times.
When all people did was go out
and commit crimes.
When hungry people had to go
out and wait in long lines
Maybe to some people that
only happens sometimes.
Maybe to others all the time.
Either way, however you feel.
You had to find a way to cope
and deal.
Somehow you stood the rain
You lasted through all that
pain.
You didn't fall tumbling through
the drain.
You made it through the times
that were long.
You are strong.
Maybe going back and forth,
ping pong.
Differing what's right. and
what's wrong.
But here you stand.
Holding your own land.
Even if you feel like you don't.
And there's no luck you won't.
I know you will.
Because life isn't always
downhill.
Either way, however you feel.
You had to find a way to cope
and deal.
And here you are standing
now.
Now of the past, let go.
And in yourself you will grow.
After you realize the point
you're at is no longer low.
Instead you get to enjoy the
beauty of
Sharing and and giving and
receiving everyone's love.
Because
you're worth it.
Categories:
guilds, caregiving, depression, friendship, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
The permacultural professional's definition of enculturing math:
Counting and discounting,
multiplying and dividing,
nutritional seed (capital) diverse re-investment guilds
to solve problems of cooperative wealth values
and dissonant pathological disvalues.
The bicameral geo-mathematician's bilateral dilemma:
To get from 0 to 1, (nomial stasis)
one must also get from 0 to 2, (binomial diastasis)
and perhaps best back again,
to simultaneously resolve,
yet never consecutively linear-sequence
in real natural-spiritual equivalent spacetime 4-prime dimensions
of Special Case InFormational Dynamics,
to 1 median, septic and dipolar,
with 0 before and 2 implied after,
whether positive,
or double-negative,
or, co-arising nondually,
both LeftYang (+1) and Right exformatively recessive Yin (-,-)0.
Resonant BiCameral Resolutions:
Exchange Vertical-Universal deductive/inductive interdependence,
co-relation,
co-gravity,
co-arising
with co-equivalent
Horizontal-BiLateral Left-Right
both +1 blank slate, and notnot (0)-sum interdependence,
cooperative Yang/Yin ego/ecopolitical co-redeeming resonance.
Reiteratively enthymeming
cooperatively healthy creolizing
(0)-sum WinWin Communication Intent
to extend 4Prime Basic EcoTherapeutic HealthWealth Fractals,
like our oh-so-regenerative DNA,
strings of bilateral polypathic hypostatic theory
dipolar co-arising
Gaian Integral Hypothetical
co-gravitating dualdark ZeroSum
regenerating prime 4-Base
nurturing/strong reiterating root systems
of regenerating Positive/NotNotNegative
double-binding
self/other perpetuating
ego/ecosystems
echoing convex stems
of bilateral concave dipolar strings....
Categories:
guilds, culture, humor, math, philosophy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
As a vermillion Sun feigns its death,
daylight acquiesces to Night's might.
And with a propensity for red,
Sol colors clouds, cerise, and crimson.
Day dwindles as flashing fireflies set
twinkling lights flickering on the scene.
And an austere, featureless landscape
morphs into a field of pixie dust.
Nature imbues the Night with subtle
scents of honeysuckle and wild rose.
And a mix of exotic odors
of lesser-known, more infamous plants.
Contrary to popular belief,
stinging nettles bear scented flowers.
And as their fragrant blossoms open,
they release a pleasant aroma.
A gold filigree moon guilds the waves,
moonbeams dancing on rippled waters.
And dark silhouettes, like smudged shadows,
merge within Night's ebony embrace.
Categories:
guilds, beautiful, color, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Blank verse
^b^
Lux Nova
(after Notre Dame)
The light at Suger's
St. Denis
precursor for mighty Notre Dame
Paints both floors in color.
Transliterated from the glass of guilds
Tracery and mullions
Adumbrate
A story in late winter's light
Perhaps enough, barely enough
Enough of an outline...
Still, colors bleed
Onto freshly scrubbed floors and
Sing in their own tongue.
A washbucket stands idle
Utensils erect and attentive
Listening for
A song sung to eyes, not ears
And that is what some call magic
For others
Inspiration...
To all
The lux nova.
I too have heard whispered prayers
Hushed reverence, suspirations of hope...
Nascent long ago
Even in the empty house
So still, so full of light.
Stone and the Areopagite
Make the stuff of building ---
But neo-Platonic rhythm on strings
Sound the noumenal
now real and
Find the unwinding of the literal
Amid limpid traces
Of flesh, reaching spirit
Like incensed smoke-trails
Seeking height.
Censers disgorge aspirations
History disgorges bodies and
fire destroys beauty.
Climbing inchoate dactyls
Finger the new braille
Of the new light...
Lux Nova
Noli me tangere...
And so it is ---
Light remains ineffable in its
Own incarnation...
One can re-build stone and timber
the rest
Resides inside...
^b^
Categories:
guilds, beautiful, humanity,
Form:
Blank verse
creation, inspiration, philosophy, spoken word,
INVENTIVENESS ©
Philosophical prophecies do go down---
But lose ground recruitment when congested….
And curtail some ‘guilds’ to inventiveness!
Guidelines ‘stagnate’, if borne not for quest beyond---
Who in the ‘know-how’ understates these new interpretations?
What, why, where, when ‘next is it to be said again and again?
And just ‘who’ is to invent the here and now, and the next?
Alluring juridical ‘redoes’ of various pantomimed brands---
Begets and do offer, for limited ‘life’ sake a' shelf' date...
Inspirational ‘rides’ on diversified musical ‘merry-go-rounds’!
Categories:
guilds, creation, inspiration, philosophy, spoken
Form:
Verse
TAKING THE OATH
For those who are born again through the Oath of Citizenship
at the Onondaga County Courthouse, Syracuse, New York!
The morning prayers over
the neighbor’s car cold, the ride
to the court house quiet as snowfall,
the city enshrouded by a gradient of
gray between the darkness of dawn
and a day without sun
The oath would be simple, something
sacred and short, syllables of English
welcome as the script that conveys the
Qur’an, once harsh-sounding words now
the potent poetics of opportunity
at hand
She will be Umm Almaliti, an American
name in a Dar-es-Salaam, as portable
as the infant asleep in her arms
She will work with her husband, send
her children to school, dark brown and
Berber, the mothers of their mother from
The Rif and The Atlas, the enduring
dynamics of water and stone and mountains
that murmur of hawks on the wind, the
fathers of their father from Granada and
Sevilla through the dye-makers’ guilds
and the sinuous medinas of
Fez and Meknes
Hand on her heart, she knows
the gift in her life is not the promise
of eternity with a rough desert deity who
lets the nervous ulema be afraid of her
face and the lay of her hair, but the
courage to run quickly toward the
uncertain miracles of a precarious life
in a place with few rules on this scary blue
diamond in this corner of space
She is all the new people who come
to this land, the music of hope on the
breezes of faith
She is all the new people who ever come
to this land; she is a needle of light, another
fragment of color in a reckless mosaic
unique on this earth
Emanuel Carter
Categories:
guilds, immigration,
Form:
Free verse
The day United Ways
slurp some Reality Stew
we will change this name
to The Same Ol' Competition Way;
cheering for ever-more community support
with the same constituency
we are teaching to over-power each other
for both community support and service.
Our United Way systemically grows
a Divided Fail.
The day our Philanthropic Foundation
absorbs some multiculturing fertility,
we will learn to ask whose foundation is this really?
Are we a Foundation of inclusive cooperation?
A Foundation with Golden Rule
applied to all species living now
and in our global future,
incarnating through our Elder species
for mutually optimizing regenerative purpose?
Are we a Philanthropic Foundation
created by people
who deeply cared about sustaining life's integrity
for seven generations?
Perhaps even more?
Are we more a Foundation of confusing mobbed competition
for scarce resources,
or a Foundation for regenerating abundant contentment,
goodness,
beauty,
wisdom,
optimized economic policies for cooperative
ecological health and well-being networks;
for minimizing suffering and exploitive commodification,
economic decomposition of Earth's natural elements and systems;
a pro-life Commons
racing to win diverse harmonies
before losing our dreams
of teleological faith
and ecological hope?
Could we become a Foundation for optimizing public policies
for mutually cooperative mentoring
of vocational choice,
of permaculturally,
organically,
integrally,
multisystemically functional, maybe even deeply creative, families
and thereby communities?
We stand within this permacultural Foundation
for cooperative mutual-investment guilds,
consumer and producer networks,
Climax Communities
for growing global consciousness of eco-balance identity,
Earth Care as Self and Other Care,
revolutioning this ReGenesis Foundation,
with both interior and exterior landscape applications,
both YinTime and YangSpace eco-function metrics,
mutually mentoring Earth's polyculturally cooperative eco-logic.
Categories:
guilds, addiction, adventure, giving, jealousy,
Form:
Free verse
hood covered lutherns wear their naratives
under a furrow of clouds.
their earmuffed headphones filled with lukewarm
monotones from garrison kiellor.
they discuss the northern progressive aesthetic and
of what it means to 'feel minnesotan'.
gathering together in an east wind they descend
down along icy tundra's to form weavers guilds in
the grass.
they read faulkner and hawthorne paperbacks
talking a little less nonsense than most.
where strong coffee meets warn out floor mats
a hand radio with a little static and a little oscillating
magnetic current searches through the snow driven
clouds for warmth and reason.
Categories:
guilds, allegory,
Form:
Blank verse
Throwing fireballs from broken fists,
Destroying all who feed the mist.
The necromancers raise the dead,
as guilds of pyros burn them red.
breathe in deep, the dragons breath,
it tastes so sweet, hold in the scent.
Let the high control your head,
then feast upon the naked flesh.
Indulge in all the sweaty sex,
with kings and queens and princesses.
Then later on we all will toast,
before feeding on endless roasts.
And goat cheeses and pumpkin pies,
then blow it up into to the skies.
We’ll celebrate for those who died.
and drink until we feel alive.
Categories:
guilds, celebration, desire, destiny, love,
Form:
Quatrain
Along the glass of a lazy stroll,
The jar popped open the doctor,
Or so I thought, ‘cos attachment,
Honour and protection was proctor.
Amis of gel, congruence and ear,
No disk did move my larynx clear,
Undue was the throat inside instead,
Which elongated my sinews head.
The cerebral hemispheres dance,
To reason’s sediments glance,
The axiom nuclei of radius fodder,
Taxonomic from a cooling splatter.
But my chair collapsed, was rejected,
And my sweated foot bounced unsaid,
Four legs not two around about, head
Their arms detached from pout affected.
Oh the seventies did collide and mix,
With solemnity’s roles and grades,
Under the blankness of the stare,
Came the tare that ripped unaware.
Contingent upon my father’s books,
Magic cards and imagery games,
My piano, pencil drawings, TV flicks,
Starwars did not renegade flames.
Not continent upon the bible black,
Therefore not continent upon the kin,
So not deluded or emotional, gone,
Won the neighbours hearts, pimm, grin.
Silence comes upon the beholder,
Not upon the glancer to extract,
When friends and lovers folder,
The broken heart that stays intact.
Knight the darkness, loon the light,
Put the bedding out into the light,
Bring the muscle into view as stringy,
To by the pound shift the loofah pingy.
Medicine’s chalice guilds the sweep,
Of the dopamine in inner scales,
But when the neurones skirt fit ham,
An ombudsman should call it maam.
Categories:
guilds, body, future, health, rights,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
Left school in December 1968
played truant from school on final day
but no thought to what I wanted to do
so hard to work out what's my way
My uncle was a qualified electrician
I got started as apprentice at his work
but a couple of years into this job
a problem arose that really stuck
A couple of times connecting up cables
caused a spark I was colour blind
then a year later failed city & guilds
so realised a new job will have to find
Well a spark I was not to be
having no light so couldn't shine
but got warehouse work next
so wasn't jobless it worked out fine
(Just some thought on my first job when leaving school those 50 years ago, can't believe it was so long ago.)
Categories:
guilds, color, jobs, memory, moving
Form:
Rhyme
Given the truth will lead you into all truth Men under the rose so dispose to bind The secret machinery grinding to Cain Men set free they wrench back from whence they came In pretense they know the way man to man Tangled again the rent made now worse than Form of knowing know not Him that formed Nothing hid that shall not be informed Pulling you in alternate discretions Blind guilds using sublingual expressions The truth be known the whispers in the dark are heard in the light of the highest arch Pumping you up with promises they cannot keep Themselves bound and do not enter in I weep Turn key in a door to another way Claiming names seems right but only one saves
Categories:
guilds, allegory, faith, religion, truth,
Form:
Heroic Couplet