Best Passing Over Poems
Sunlight leaks
through the curtain
after I’ve thrown off the covers.
Downstairs the television flickers
as a roommate sleeps
on the couch.
He was talking politics
last night.
I went upstairs
and read a poem.
This morning
I walk into the kitchen
and turn off a dripping faucet.
The furnace hums
to fight off a chill.
The calendar says spring
as if my life has just begun.
I go out for a leisurely drive
where the countryside
speaks to me.
I come back home
and make a quick brunch.
Words dancing in my head
cry out for me
to put them on a page
as the cat sits on my lap.
The roommate rolls to his side
saying, April’s the cruelest month
while I say the cruelest thing
is writer’s block.
A jet passing over a crown
of trees at the end of the street
streaks the sky.
The roommate talks about a movie
he watched in the middle of the night
and its philosophy.
Did you like it, I say
as a bird outside the window sings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I reached for it~
the way one gropes
for a light switch in an unfamiliar room,
fingers brushing the dark,
expecting edges, warmth,
but finding only air.
What was it?
A name half-whispered,
a key left dangling in a lock,
a joke without its punchline
dissolving into static.
Now it circles,
a moth with singed wings,
dizzying the periphery~
so close I taste its rust,
so far it might as well be
the shadow of a crow
passing over the sun.
I laugh, mostly to stop
the hollow in my ribs from echoing
the same old question:
What was I thinking?
But the mind is a sieve,
and some thoughts
are meant to slip through~
small, silver minnows
vanishing into deeper water.
Vultures -----
-----------passing over dying shadows
nothing to feast on
the wind came and carried them away
10-26-13
SandyIvy
Venus loathes rising at night,
passing over where she lies.
For She cannot match her light,
no matter how hard She tries.
She's in her fantasy place,
where dreams are steeped in pleasure.
And an aura frames her face,
almost too bright to measure.
What I feel can't be denied,
while watching her sleep at night.
And seeing her stir inside,
love pauses her dreams mid-flight.
Nuzzled awake with a kiss,
loving lips welcome my charms.
And we share feelings of bliss,
snuggled in each other's arms.
I sat quietly staring out the porthole window
As we were passing over a village in the low hills
A cumulus cloud casting over its ominous shadow
Far below in the silence of the engine’s shrills,
I wondered where those tiny people were going
Beneath the wing nary a songbird nor butterfly
Alone streaking through the frigid air, the Boeing,
Not a face lifted from village below to the sky
Then it was gone, as quickly as I had imagined,
I rummaged through my satchel of ordinaries
Forgetting a whole community of unexamined
Miniatures, no concern for untended cemeteries,
I had long forgotten when the plane descended
My sweet reveries in solitude, my journey ended.
Written June 10, 2022
Submitted to "2022 Marathon Mile 1" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
(From the musical "On Eagles' Wings." This is the lullaby for Passover night.)
Mother 1:
Be still, my child, go to sleep
The night is dark, but dreams are sweet
My child, take rest from fear and dread
And relish all your dreams instead
Though life is harsh, your dreams can be
As sweet as the world used to be
Be not afraid of any harm
I have you safely in my arms
Mother 2:
Be still, my child, rest your head
You have no need to fear or dread
The One Who has made known His power
Is watching over you this hour
He’s stretching out His mighty arm
To spare your life from Egypt’s harm
He watches over you this night
That you may see the morning light
His promise surely will come true
Tonight He’s passing over you
In the quiet morning, light pierces the dawn,
Each ray a soft reminder:
Breathe deeply,
Step forward without hesitation.
Moments cascade like a gentle river,
Passing over pebbles, around bends unseen,
Their song low and constant,
Whispering of presence and peace.
Hands open to the sky, we gather time,
Not holding, but letting it flow through fingers—
A dance of shadows and warmth,
Each touch a story of now.
Evenings come with a soft closure,
Stars watch over the world's slow exhale,
In the hush, life’s simple truths resonate,
Echoing the heartbeat of the universe.
We walk through days as through a garden,
Noticing each bloom, each faded petal,
Life's fleeting nature, the beauty in its briefness,
Each step a silent celebration.
So we live, so we learn:
Embrace each breath as if it is the first and last,
See in every fleeting moment,
A vast eternity waiting to be known.
You must take a fat dead man’s corpse
Ideally smooth skin on the back,
Not too rotten, hopefully white,
Then you must take a small device,
Like a small metal ice cream scoop,
The edges must be razor sharp,
Then begin to scoop perfect holes,
Out of the pale, cold, soft back flesh,
There will be a small sucking noise,
As you turn the spoon and gouge,
Make perfect hollowed, concave, bowl
Holes, uniform across the back,
many clusters of deep depressions,
When the back is full of punctures,
Take ripe spider eggs and place them
Inside the holes ready to hatch,
Next take a decapitated,
fresh, three year old infants head,
Behind the cheeks of a child’s face,
There are cavity like chambers
In the soft bone, that house teeth,
Waiting in these bony hollows
Ready to replace baby teeth,
So you must remove the cheek flesh,
And reveal these horrific pits,
Take out the teeth from the sockets,
This makes a series of smooth holes,
You must procure botfly maggots,
Ordinary maggots won’t do.
Carefully insert the maggots,
In the holes of the pitted skull.
Now run your hands along the back,
And your tongue across the skull bone,
As your tongue passes the hollows
A small vacuum will be created
And a suction noise will be heard,
The dry wriggling maggots will,
Gently and briefly touch your tongue.
As your hands cross over the back,
Passing over the spongy holes,
Your fingers will encounter the,
Small, soft, warm spider eggs inside.
As the skull and torso decay,
The whole scene will attack reason,
This hideous alarming sight,
The stench of decomposing flesh,
The sound of the hatching spiders
And newly formed swarming black flies,
Spilling out of their putrid holes,
Will stun your mind into a state,
Of confused and nauseous shock.
"Plenitude"
a full circle
centre point
the dream, it
swiftly approaches
through storms
walking on oceans
like devotion
bare feet take
glass surfaces
breaking
the vigil
for the mirror bleed
part of the waking
vessel displacement
passing over rough seas
through fiery
St Elmo tempest
glides Witchfire
on the wings
of an albatross angel
like mariner mystery
delivered
through
labyrinthine
forests reflecting
great depth
from the deepening
symbols like music
Hymn believed
to be seen
the way lit
by St David’s
candles
pinions stretched
like great alms
in the genuflect
a swollen offering
the breath billows
to tranquil tempest
leviathan
brought to its knees
gifted in the anointed reprieve
here the feeding
to undertow
inessential
the shallows
dissolving
in higher vibration
a full circle
centre point
the dream closes
a small sleep
then upon
mortal coil shuffling
the scales
weighed and shed
a new time of rising
a new time of waking
the fast broken
forget hesitation
take in the lost
words like wafers to host
on tongues never spoken
reprieve
plenitude
peace
the incomplete
complete
the circle not broken
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
I’m an All-Star at bottling emotions,
I run around my court dribbling emotions
onto paper. Ball hogging my sensitivities,
no one has ever been able to catch me..
I’m too damn quick.
I’ve sent every nerve that has threatened
to expose itself deep into a dark hole.
Hammered a cross at it’s base labeled
"Eyes only."
The most technical term I could muster.
Most people steer clear of technicalities.
I’m suddenly thinking about Boyle’s law.
I feel like a hooked fish,
being reeled up from deep waters
and I can picture the rushing current
of self doubt passing over me
while you bring me ashore.
I can see your reaction
to my insides protruding
out of my mouth like that
Bass I caught in Conroe.
I just hope you can stand the image.
I’ve never felt a pull so strong.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.
He said, “Yes, I flew a fighter plane over the hills, and the people
were running, they were just people, they were villagers, not soldiers,
they were running away,”
and a tear came to his eye, and it looked like a napalm-rain ,
as he dabbed away the guilt and regret;
because he flew a fighter plane over the hills, and the people
were running, running away;
but his rain caught them, cindered them; and they
weren’t soldiers, they were just people running away,
granddads, mothers, babies, aunts;
and they were all running, running, running - away
then he flew his plane home, over the hills, on to the deck,
in to the mess, and ate the food and drank some coffee, and
watched TV;
and they fuelled, and bombed him up, and he flew
again, over the hills, over the hills, far away, far away,
passing over the black-scorched earth, the granddads
and mothers the babies and aunts and his tears dropped
to the cockpit floor, the cockpit door, and the flames told
him to jump out quick, before they licked;
and when they found him surrounded by silk, they took him
back to the deck; and he watched TV and rested, and watched
the news, of people running, running, running away;
but they didn’t show the granddads , mothers, babies and aunts;
his grim, sycophants.
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Water flowing down a river passing over rocks and earth
Slowly gliding to the ocean from the reservoir of birth
Water’s Birth is at the peak and Water’s death is at the bottom
Moving in and out of trouble, downhill pattern of a slalom
Outside forces, changing states, Constant friction, changing forms
Calling to a higher purpose, raining down above from storms
Feed the planet, work as one, move together, just survive
Advancement is the common goal that keeps the hopes and dreams alive
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Reach the peak, you never can, the peak is far away from man
Birth, so warm, Death so cold, running from that icy hold
Feel the tide and current strongly, never flowing off the path
Mother Nature’s happiest when water executes her wrath
Rivers, lakes, and streams all uniting and connected
Looking from the outside everything that’s done is just reflected
Pure and clear, until it’s tainted, untouched canvas, never painted
Heading to an end, depending on direction, ending up united, one collaborative collection
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
Forks and splits that force decisions sooner than they wish to choose
Splitting up the current from who will win and who will lose
The ending is the same, but the journey is what matters
Filling up the empty space is where the water gathers
Ever inching towards the finish to be united once again
Circulating through a void that always comes back to the end
The end is never permanent, there always is a second chance
To make it’s way unto the earth and show the world it’s timeless dance
Slither, slither, show the way, water moving faster still
Never ever going backwards, only flowing down the hill
God the eternal and all knowing one
who can be compared to such as He?
the creator of everything reigns on high
He has always been and ever shall be
This God even pardon’s iniquity
passes over all our transgressions
for we His remnant He’s inherited
pouring out on us untold blessings
A holy God describes His character
hating sin with anger but not forever
for delights this God in steadfast love
show His grace and mercy to deliver
True compassion is sent from heaven
this warrior king our sins will tread
completely underfoot never again be seen
casting every one in deepest sea like lead
Thankfulness fills your heart to burst
considering all of God’s steadfast love
full of compassion our saviour is
praise eternally never be long enough!
('Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity
and passing over transgression
for the remnant of his inheritance?
He does not retain his anger forever,
because he delights in steadfast love.
He will again have compassion on us;
he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our[e] sins
into the depths of the sea.
You will show faithfulness to Jacob
and steadfast love to Abraham,
as you have sworn to our fathers
from the days of old.')
Micah Ch. 7 vs. 18-20 (ESV)
almost every day
before the sun’s first blinding ray
clouds are touched by warmest hues
displaying their splendid red-soled shoes
each a ship of cumulus shape
far and high their tops will scrape
grayness off the blue domed sky
heralded by a thousand birds dry
inching up the growing screen
jostling as they puff and preen
kissing heads of other domes
lovingly writing sky-based poems
moving all in unison now
nodding and bobbing with furrowed brow
opening a soft thunderous throat
passing over hill and valley’s moat
quickly gathering a soft grey weight
rain and wind inevitable fate
slowly moving across the land
together to make a final stand
up in the tops of the tallest heads
violet lightning neon glow spreads
wind now touches and bends the trees
x-rayed by white lightning sprees
you can almost see the insects flee
zooming over the earth with glee
she is a blatant caricature in loud technicolor
her presence shouts sexual innuendo
alluring with dark undertones
her past shadows her every word
like clouds passing over a weak sun
she is the road untold but by the few hardiest of souls
her skin tangles his mind
as she watches him in the rearview
runs her hand through her hair repeatedly
he is mesmerized by moist lips parted
around phrases dark and foreboding
the cool calculation of her casual appearance
he is sleepwalking a dangerous dream
he is a dramatic parody in shades of pastel
a sorrowful tale told hesitatingly full of doubts and fears
full of the gentlest of loves
weak and stained he stands in the fell shadows
waiting for her rusty razor blade kisses
she has him
like clouds passing over a weak sun
and he loves her for it