Best Intervenes Poems
No flame within!
do I hold for you
no delightful delicacy
shall I put to rhyme.
No picturesque words
in italics of your
woeful wildlife, no
acknowledgement of
the ancient mariner, he
that crossed the margin
of our “Atlas of the world.”
(Still in use, [I believe] in the
old stone museum.)
One can easily live in fear
of your many mordant moods,
to see you capture the
embracing horizon, where warring
clouds fondle the sunlight,
and the departing QE 2 is
reduced to microcosm.
How can one live in awe of
you, when at the end of each
day you snatch at the light of
sustenance, therefore
giving license to the veil
of damnation, soon to be cast
out of the east, driving impending
fears to languish upon the
unholy waters of the Styx?
(An extraction of the mind,
an evaporation of the memory
the spray dried brain
tossed into oblivion.)
Yet each morning an
interval to one’s ongoing
nightmare, when with renewed
levitation, the new light reprieved!
Begins avidly it’s universal
journey across Manukau’s
“Pack ‘n’ Save” Car park.
Oh yes! It is so easy to hate you;
you that brought the rest of
the world here, you that constitutes
a world within a world, that,
where the cycle of life creates it’s
own constitution, each player
judged on cue, to become an act of
fodder, mobile supermarkets
in ferocious competition with
nothing at all to give.
“Unless death itself is a gift!”
Upon the surface your
treachery still lingers, there,
tenacious tentacles lurk
within the sedulous surf,
groping blindly at sedated
rocks, those pinnacles of sanctuary
that harbour the weary,
support the rod.
Only when gravitation truly
intervenes, does the perpetual
invasion subside, leaving one in
no doubt about your promiscuity!
© Harry J Horsman 1993
**“Those that respect the law and love sausage should watch neither being made.” –
American Humorist/Author Mark Twain (real name Samuel Clemens)
Prestigious lawmaking bodies are comprised of solons*
Some find it hard to refrain from comparing them to cons
Few legislators know the ramifications of bills
And the way they’re rushed to passage can give the public chills
We don’t know what’s in bills or how they strip away our rights
And if we ask our lawmakers, they provide few insights
Piles of amendments are thrust hastily in political machines
Objections are made; no one successfully intervenes
“What’s that?” we ask later when we realize what has been done
(In Kennesaw, Georgia, all citizens MUST purchase guns)
Try to blend the conservative and liberal viewpoints
You’ll find the machine sputters with fat spewing from its joints
It’s like taking hunks of pork and grinding them into links
The process is messy and the outcome usually stinks
No matter! We are supposed to smile and just eat it up
Then we wash it all down with a sip from the lager cup
Pork barrel projects like Alaska’s “Bridge to Nowhere” confound
As on nebulous values of bills lawmakers expound
So beware if for common sense in these bills you forage
And remember old Mark Twain’s analogy to sausage
*Solons are members of any legislative or lawmaking body.
the moments of children are endless
until time intervenes
imagination filled joy claims the light of day
how small their world, and yet
how vast their kingdom
where the next thought is another minute of fun
not escaping the world
rather...living in it for all the happiness to come
free from worry or concerns
where responsibility is foreign and unknown
and play, is there to be captured
by creative imagination in their world of dreams
when the mind of a child is unafraid to explore
every thought, that freely flows, unrestrained
from the burdens of failure
a time to pass through, to be remembered when old
when we were touched by the breath of God
and called Angels
11/6/17 contest Photo Story...picture # 1
I.
Fold, crease, unfold, sheets
of paper thin as possibility,
a crisp white plea to gravity.
Forty-five times, a cosmic origami
building bridges from table to the moon.
The mind dreams, unfurls
dimensions from the flatness,
each fold a petition of ascension.
But reality, that quiet artisan,
intervenes. Seven, eight,
perhaps nine folds—
the paper resists,
its fibers tightening,
a rebellion against a lunar destiny.
The geometry of dreams
collapses into the physics of limitation,
a negotiation between ambition and restraint.
II.
Sated with the hunger of excess,
we feast at counters where gluttony
is a ritual, a rhapsody of indulgence.
Plates piled high, offerings to the insatiable
gods of appetite, mouths moving
in a tempo of ingestion.
Like a paper's rebellion against too much
folding, the body, too, whispers its limits.
Sometimes in tears, sometimes in laughter,
but always in inevitability, the stomach's
silent protest, a wall that even the voracious
cannot breach. Eruption looms, a volcanic
protest, or else the creeping weight, its own
gravity pulling the body to a corporeal moon.
III.
From paper to body, from the moon
to the food, all are tethered by the finite,
implacable laws governing a universe
of possibility.
Fold and unfold, feast and decline,
the trajectory of excess tempered by
the ever-present specter of consequence.
The warmth no longer comes
it seems to only leave.
The furry ones, all
caught in hypnotic disbelief:
hardening ground's
taken root
where once
gardening grounds
(forsaken, mute)
were once and again
makin' fruit.
Each beast, shaking
like a leaf
(though, truth be told
I've only ever
seen 'em dance)
as if to compel
the sun to
sidle up
'n stay a bit.
The butterflies are all turned
to windblown, drying leaves.
The biting clouds of gnats
are now
the biting cold of early flakes.
All hatched and reared
(the secret thrush, the ungainly, splashtering loon,
the burly snakes)
as evening hurries home
to be home for the night.
It's so early, so late.
The fatted robin's gone
just as the field mice hid
from barn-now-lapcat.
This constellation of crows,
a raucous perch, tried
that hiding ploy: their clotted knotted
silhouetted faux-leaf blackening hide out
where the leaves’d lived but crows are not
meant to blot the low sun as they’d plotted...
And so it was as so its been since Oh, so ever since -
a bird of prey, answered their
plaintive caws with painted claws -
a fracturous startle from above
a crash! a cry! a scattering!
one down, one murder
still.
Nothing softens, nothing greens.
No flowering as Southern urges
force flocks into making V-lines.
Each nest left: all break routines.
Summer is souring, as frost emerges
and last-one-picked, the pines -
lefties left in left field;
icing soon, their needles their shield
and, the coach never intervenes...
The light more slow to show
more tugged and bent to slant.
The sunshafts seem to push
the cold ahead as snow by plows.
And for our part we too as well
well, we turn away, turn indoors.
We turn our dreams to
make-it-through this.
We turn our collars up,
and too, our eyes to floors.
We turn our (each seems to)
thoughts inside this shell
not towards Inner but
rather, of course, truly from-
far and away from the
Cold & Falling, closing crisp.
How unlike the Scholar's Cup!
Our husks indoors,
our thoughts follow
but burrow deeper still.
Don't blame the light
for not keeping company
so deep where hides
a fearful, frigid 'you.'
It's Autumn
all turns on
one point.
It's Autumn
Fall burns on.
It's Autumn
sun burns on
one point
(of light.)
I have never felled so alive
as now.
On the edge
Slightly out of vision
Chaos
No, thank you
I’ll take my social order
On rye
Hold the onions
Hey, I wanted rye
Every day reminds us
Untidy chaos intervenes
Deny it and go mad
Face it and imagine war
To be involved in life is to be involved in battle
There is no escape
Cave dwelling aesthetics are fools
Thus sings the auspicious one
Learn to struggle
Honorably
Graciously
Nobly
It’s not about the win
Which, in any event, is
Ultimately
Futile.
The Great Election
By Betty Harp Butler
Two sides are battling a great fight.
Their banners have been unfurled.
The heat is on, the battle is strong,
While each man takes his turn
And tries to maintain his lead,
But…
God is in his Heaven,
And all is right in His World.
God will unfurl His banners.
In a strange way, He intervenes
In our lives.
His way is right.
He will do what is good for us.
Pray and wait on Him.
He has a say in this World.
We must wait to see what He will do.
He knows all, He sees through the fog.
His way will stand the test, He can intervene.
Wait on Him, it yet remains for us to see what He will do.
Pray again! His banner will soon be unfurled.
And we will say again—
What a great God is our God.
He watches over all in our World.
It is no secret what our great God can do.
Just hold on to his hand,
And the right way will be shown to you.
Listen…
What is self-motivation to you? What does self-motivation really mean?
Are you self-motivated or easily defeated when complications and depletion of any
success you’ve had, rudely intervenes?
Complications will surely produce unwanted thorns that can be piercingly painful,
throwing you way off track.
Strong self-motivation is a radiant guiding light that will always help you find your way back.
The pathway back may not be easy, true success in life has never been.
But which satisfied you most, self-motivation where you once had it, or complications that
somehow wore your self-motivation way too thin?
You may be feeling the drive and determination that once engulfed you, no longer has
their tenacious bite.
Here’s the fastest way to regain the self-motivation you once had, if it has taken flight:
When you have conviction with self-motivation, you walk tall, your head and shoulders
loom above the crowd, no matter your physical size or height.
Self-Motivation makes you the leader that people look up to, respect, and seek, which is
quite nice.
You must march on by being the strong and self-motivated one.
I implore you to strut and march only to the beat of your proclaimed rhythmic drum.
Create an immovable and unbendable melody from the depths of your heart, mind,
body, and soul.
Your new revelation will be etched in stone. Your self-motivation henceforth, shall never
falter and surely never grow old.
Al Johnson
.
.
nature
intervenes
atmospheric arrow parts -
spring kiss prevented
.
Window ledge song
Stray sparrows sing;
A choral duo
~~~~~~~~~
Rain drops slide
Blurry window view;
Furious stormy night
~~~~~~~~~
Not much to say
Old couple sit;
Passing people punctuate
~~~~~~~~~
Coffee maker sounds
Morning makeovers;
Caffeine fix retort
~~~~~~~~~
From this penthouse
Brief promontory;
Puzzling landscapes
~~~~~~~~~
Lovely couple
Youth presides;
Time will tell
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku moment
Zero metaphor;
Captured picture
~~~~~~~~~
Plain words
Tell not describe;
Look and see
~~~~~~~~~
Curious pantomime
Merge into a dream;
Fall into another
~~~~~~~~~
Joy waits
Sorrow appears;
Opposites reconcile
~~~~~~~~~
Eastern view
Western education;
Two worlds endow
~~~~~~~~~
Awakening
Awareness
Abundance
~~~~~~~~~
Bus stop queue
Gadgets in hand;
Electronic toys
~~~~~~~~~
Social media
Conspiracy theories;
Insidious intents
~~~~~~~~~
Girl and boy
Two whirls collide;
Fancy intervenes
~~~~~~~~~
Years have etched
Facial sculptures;
Deep wrinkles attest
~~~~~~~~~
Cite and recite
Write and re-write;
Nothing much
~~~~~~~~~
Opposites attract
To balance out;
Not much more
~~~~~~~~~
Curious wonder
Time runs away;
Not much left
~~~~~~~~~
Like attracts like
To boost buzz;
Ample estates
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 May 2015
Singapore
We stood there in silence,
never asking for more;
we stood prepared for the violence,
garbed in full raiment of war.
In a moment of lightning,
a flash and a flare,
our defenses fell to the frightening,
our fortresses laid bare.
We knew what lay ahead,
and yet we carried on;
we experienced the chaos, the dread,
and still, the still face we don.
We bent our backs through the long night,
battled the forces arrayed against our ragged platoon;
to learn, to grow, to know what it is to fight -
to prove we and our forefathers of the same stone were hewn.
Then, after so long a struggle, finally came the dawn.
The sun rose, and we were men.
The sun rose, and all regrets over the pain were gone.
The sun rose, and we knew strength stood within our ken.
As our leaders spoke words over what we had just fought,
I felt on us the strings with which fate so often intervenes;
heard the call and knew what we had ultimately wrought.
As the colors flew, we saluted; forever we are Marines.
Ever on in silence we'll stand,
awaiting orders, waiting on your need;
the eagle, globe, and anchor forever our brand,
semper fidelis eternally our creed.
Rain washing wet
Exit humid heat;
Bamboo pines sway
~~~~~~~~~
Weary estate
Rustic and ancient;
Old people pace
~~~~~~~~~
Orchid stalks
Crystal flower vase;
Beauty adorns
~~~~~~~~~
Class reunion
Familiar faces;
Change intervenes
~~~~~~~~~
Old-time movie
Once upon then;
Romantic poise
~~~~~~~~~
Property market
Doldrums percolate;
Prices go south
~~~~~~~~~
Precious moments
Fragrance lingers;
Touchy feelings
~~~~~~~~~
Red light district
Pretty birds ply;
Ancient occupations
~~~~~~~~~
Evening descends
Abruptly dark;
Distant lights hurl
~~~~~~~~~
Fleeting surge
Momentum flips;
Emergent thoughts
~~~~~~~~~
By the wayside
Weathered old man;
Limping bravely
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku blossoms
Plain fragment;
Frozen experience
~~~~~~~~~
One by one
Passers-by stream;
Distant dream calls
~~~~~~~~~
Economic downturn
Job loss escalates;
Grizzly bear bites
~~~~~~~~~
Stray staccato
Morning birdsong;
Balcony solo
~~~~~~~~~
Seek then the way
Live well each day;
Be one with bliss
~~~~~~~~~
Cruise to nowhere
Sea breeze salty;
Modern distractions
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
30 April 2016
Singapore
Grass verge
Unnoticed florals;
Unspoken splendour
~~~~~~~~~
Crowded impasse
Wordless faces;
Feisty fest
~~~~~~~~~
Day hurls light
Sparkling tell;
Sleepy commotion
~~~~~~~~~
Forty winks
Sleepy delights;
Late morning sojourn
~~~~~~~~~
Dawn hurls sober
Dreams malinger;
Heavy eyes
~~~~~~~~~
By this wayside
Miniature flowers preside;
Beauty camouflages
~~~~~~~~~
Floral bouquets
Sunny side up;
Dazzling sparkle
~~~~~~~~~
Joy intervenes
Love delights all;
Intuitive spread
~~~~~~~~~
Morning rain
Icy cold feel;
Deep frozen dreams
~~~~~~~~~
Toy dog barks
Simple excursion;
Morning exercise
~~~~~~~~~
End of story
Finale certain;
Next season's preview
~~~~~~~~~
Mental pictures
Well-rehearsed;
Made to measure
~~~~~~~~~
Fond tact
Fine act;
New pact
~~~~~~~~~
Touching finale
Fireworks display;
Dazzling limelight
~~~~~~~~~
Mahjong insights
Family roundtable;
Fest mellows zest
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
09 August 2017
Singapore
Our Autumn Love
How many ages past as I recall
An image of my brawny self to quell
The ominous fear of growing old soon
What, Pray, intervenes to recast that spell
Voluminous love of feeling and touch
Render to me your body with lust
Crushing embraces and wet kisses on
your soft and flaccid skin, your oily shine
Give impetus to move my palsied hands
Across your bare exterior to soothe
and utter sweet expletives in your ear
Our eighty plus years have not bound our souls
Just a brief sojourn to the climax of love
©Ralph Sergi April 21,2016
*This poem is not necessarely meant to be sensual
but as a message to seniors that love whether
physical or spiritual should be the last thing you enjoy
until your dying day.
That Distant Space
Shadows slide, silent, across the cold church floor
As pallid wraiths form in the fast fading breeze
Where no human wanders that way anymore.
And come to rest by the broken vestry door
To meet in far off realms beyond our short lease
In that abandoned place we walked before.
A new moon rises unseen above the trees,
Grey ghosts return on this night of dark unease
And far from busy life’s bright domains explore
By hidden, shaded paths that no human sees
Where shapeless souls their earthly forms restore
And at All Hallow’s Eve meet in dark rapport
In that distant space where the dead convene,
To speak apart before daylight intervenes.
Barry Stebbings
Oct 2024