Best Provide For Poems
Second Chances
Sometimes in life, we work so hard
to do the best that we can do.
Spend hours perfecting what we think
others will love and cherish too.
With gems created in the arts,
like those of written poetry,
The imagery comes from our soul,
the very depths of you of me.
Sometimes our hope for a reward
in judgment of a finished write,
does not fulfill expected goals—
although selections may be right.
Then comes along a second chance—
contests for 'Screwed' and 'Trashed' on list!
Perhaps a poem of heart and soul
will earn a placement that it missed.
Two heroes here in this great 'Soup'
provide for me that second chance!
New eyes to read, enjoy my thoughts;
perhaps a win, my score enhance.
Broken, your kind and gentle heart
can feel the depth of what I write.
Your sensitivity comes through
to see my words in different light.
And Rob, your love of poetry—
of metaphor and perfect form,
has given me the chance to shine
let meaning of my words perform.
So thank you Rob and Broken Wings,
you offer us that chance to score—
showcase our words and thoughts again.
Your second chances we adore!
Sandra M. Haight
~7th Place~
Contest: PoetrySoup Heroes
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Judged: 11/12/2015
My PoetrySoup Heroes:
Broken Wings
Rob Carmack
To a sapling, the truth is its own root system. Unseen, it delves into the darkness of the earth, not to impress the wildflowers or imitate the towering oaks, but to find its own necessary water and anchoring stones.
It does not worry if its roots twist in an unusual direction, or if a neighboring pine grows taller faster. It only knows its own need for depth, for the truth of the soil beneath it.
For this, above all: To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day; Thou canst not then be false to any man.
So it is that the young tree, in its steadfast authenticity, finds its voice. The unfurling of its own unique leaves and the branching of its limbs become a blueprint of its inner resolve.
It draws nourishment from the darkness, and in doing so, reaches for the light. As its trunk strengthens and its canopy spreads, it does not have to consciously decide to offer shade to the weary traveler or shelter to the nesting bird. Its generosity is the inevitable influence of its own secure growth.
For how could a tree, true to its own deepest needs, produce a withered branch? How could it, when anchored so profoundly in its own being, not provide for the life around it?
The shade it casts is an effortless gift, the fruit it bears a natural bounty. The tree does not fake a thicker bark or pretend to bear different fruit; it simply is. And in its quiet, undeniable existence, it nourishes the forest, making the very ground around it richer and more whole.
Its integrity is a silent echo in the wilderness, and all who pass beneath its leaves are better for it.
Welcome, dear children of light...We are star seeds from the Galactic Federation of Planets...many of us are from different worlds, galaxies, universes and dimensions...working together for the harmonious existence of all life...and have been here for much millennia...to help with your ascension to higher states of consciousness and universality...
We have given permission to the earth vehicle of whom you call Winged Warrior...to enlighten you briefly of things to come...
Through the Horsehead Nebula and Pillars of Hercules, we pass the cosmic gates
For the Star Seeds of dimensional drift, their message of universal love awaits
From wormholes to black holes and earth's science theory of Super Strings
We learn about galactic giants and the existence of everlasting minute things
Super-celestial skies, time travel at our door with a quadrillion quantum leaps
And unravel the colossal cosmic codes of the hierarchic hyperdimensional heaps
We shall observe the ancient alliances, Christ consciousness the Christos Beings
Who provide for the Nibiruan Council, the planetary school of earth teachings
Spatial subatomic particles that form the wave-particle duality is a beginning
With electromagnetic fields, light quanta, photons set the universes ringing
For man, matter, and mind are evolving as we reach the cosmic shores
As we become Prime Creators passing through the esoteric enigma doors.
10101011010101110010100
01010101010101010101010
1001011101 010101010
0110101010 010101110
1011011011 011101011
001 010
110 101
0101010101 010101010
0110110110 011101011
1100111001 001110101
011010101010101010101010
000111001101011100111011
Aug.31.2016
TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO POET HAS GONE BEFORE - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: The Seeker
I’m sorry for my flaws
I appreciate everything you do for me
I wish I could always smile at passing children
I wish I felt better about myself
I wish I saw the light you provide for me
The light I voluntarily turn my back from
The light I’m suppose to drink
As if to keep hydrated.
I’m surrounded by quarters and unfinished books
I read because I’m searching for affirmation
Quarters for clothes to be kept clean.
I’m divulgent
I parade my flaws
I hide, trip, and reveal my flaws
I am in constant concern of my own being
And a stillness of thought for a mind to be kept clean.
The world is a messy place
Our mind the raking of leaves
The leaves of the world fall and we rake
The leaves of the world fall and we rake
We fall and awake and fall again.
Love is warm, harmless, and stamped
Inefficiently weak by the assemblies of faces
Swept up by the world’s business of cold linear time
Moving like a sad and brutal train.
I sit at the station
My fingers interlocked pressing against my face
Peering through the thicket of my spirit.
Hours later, maybe, I am looking up the hill
Pulling my elephant.
Children circle around my small progress
Skipping and laughing.
(They don’t care,
They just like elephants.)
Though, last night, I dreamt I rode a killer whale
And so here it dawns on the weakened spirit:
That I am the Whale Rider of the Phantom World
Wandering through 10th Avenue
My flaws in our wake
My fist pumped high in the air
In the name of a Life Authentic.
This all dreamy and wonderful
While in the world of machines and mass movement
The elephant keeps his slow, tugging gait behind me,
Ignorant of dreams.
I stand and watch inside this prison gate,
Wondering how I got here, was this to be my fate?
I only did what any man would do,
While trying to protect his family from people like you.
All through life I kept my record clean,
I followed the laws I never made a scene.
Then one night I heard a noise in our house,
I went to investigate, thinking it was probably a mouse.
Then I came face to face with a man all dressed in black,
Taking stuff from my house and putting it in his sack.
Almost immediately my blood got hot,
We started to wrestle right on the spot.
He was fighting with all he had and so was I,
He was trying to kill me, but I wasn’t quite ready to die.
I picked up something from the floor and I hit him hard some where on his head,
I hit him maybe a little too hard cause now he’s dead.
They took me to court and charged me with manslaughter in the first degree,
They said he was a victim of circumstances, well what about me?
They said he had lost his job and was only trying to provide for his family,
And that it was okay what he had done to me.
So here I am behind these prison walls for at least ten years,
My wife and children now with no protection, the worst of my fears.
I have no remorse for what I’ve done,
My only regret was I didn’t have a gun.
After Vietnam he came right back
To a three bedroom house on a cul de sac
He worked hard to provide for his family
And now it all seems like insanity
After thirty years, his wife is gone
He can't figure out just what went wrong
His sweet little girl went to live in Butte
Drugs and booze made her a prostitute
On the cul de sac
Sits a Caddilac
He hasn't driven
since his heart attack
His son paid for college with a tour in Iraq
He won't be coming back to the cul de sac
A suicide bomber made sure of that
Late one night in a sneak attack
He can't really understand that
But it's too quiet now on the cul de sac
He tries so hard not to look back
or think about the war in Iraq
Nothing makes much sense anymore
At least not the way it did before
When laughter rang out on the cul de sac
And he knew what was fiction and what was fact
Children are Precious
Children are precious
They are gifts from God above
We must nurture them
And shower them with love.
Children need guidance, support, discipline and God’s grace
When they are younger, we must help them tie their shoelace.
We must teach them what’s right and what’s wrong
We must watch their shows with them and listen to their songs.
We have to make sure that they’re on the right track
We have to make sure they have food on their table and clothes on their backs.
We must provide for their physical needs and their emotional needs too
We must often praise them and spend time with them
And we must teach them that when it comes to serving God and reaching goals
They should always stay true.
Nightly, I wander in shadows of a recurring dream
and find myself wading through a shallow stream.
The Ancient of Oaks calls from beyond the thickets,
its gentle whispers mingling with chirping crickets.
I cannot guide my steps in the direction of choice,
for if I disobey, his leaves rustle in grumbling voice,
"Enter the forest, child, without fear of what I ask.
Moon and I will guide you with each virtuous task."
In the forest of my dreams, my path alters each night.
Sometimes I run to follow a nightingale in lofty flight.
There are times when I must free myself from a maze,
or suckle from mother fox, a kit waiting for her praise.
One starless night, I stumbled on a gnarled tree root
whose existence moments before, I dare not dispute,
for the Ancient One is very aware of every step I take.
Forest fauna watch over me 'til first light of daybreak.
I am puzzled why a forest sylph, I was chosen to be.
Ancient One said I would understand all the mystery
when after the last of my journeys comes to an end,
and I'd comprehend that my dreams were a Godsend.
So I do not question when his branches point me East
to right a wrong committed, turning famine into feast.
Or travel North and South, tending a nation that bleeds,
with a message to forests to provide for hunger's needs.
Each morning I awake with the memory of my dream,
my feet wet from wading through a shallow stream.
Some day soon, I hope to learn the reason for my quest.
Tonight I'll be in the forest when the sun sets in the West.
April 17, 2021
In the Forest of My Dreams Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
My old friend Gettysburg came to visit me tonight.
He indicated that he has been troubled about many things.
He begins without hesitation to speak to me with passionate expressions. He said that he was feeling both patriotism and pride but also consternation. He thought about how different '4th of July' celebrations might be this year.
He is whispering to me about both freedom and sovereignty.
He is shouting to me in tears about divisiveness and unity.
He tells me of his being ripped apart in every section and direction.
His north is pulling; his south is pushing; his east and west are frozen.
His total being is being disconnected; his pain is unbearably excruciating.
He ponders the complexity of such beauty being on the brink of destruction.
He remembers the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, and the Boston Tea Party.
Presently, when thinking about Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, he weeps.
He locks his eyes to mine and questions, "Whatever happened to the love of life, love of family, love of neighbor, love of the church, love of country?"
Gettysburg believes in America and thinks we will find our way forward.
He reflects on the Declaration of Independence and the many sacrifices.
The Preamble to the Constitution is weighing heavily on his confused mind.
He prays that the dream doesn't die, and he rejects any nightmarish thoughts.
Gettysburg believes in God, and that He will turn the tides and calm the sea.
He utters his last words to me by quoting the Preamble to the Constitution of the USA. "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of ...
061520PS
I climbed over trepidation
poverty's barbed wire night
torn by your prosperity
my one change of clothes
thirsting for a drop of civility
on a deserted desert road
Scorched by hell’s kitchen
fed to death’s desiccate dawn
I swallowed shards of sunshine
pride's perilous knives
for one chance to be an American
to provide for my family’s illegal lives
My eyes staggered with exhaustion
my ruptured lips too foreign to cry
I kissed a picture of my children
the withering smile of my loving wife
wondering if anyone would tell them
I died drinking liberty's light
He is to provide the emotional, financial, spiritual,
The mental health needs for all,
Provide for the physical health of his family,
Regardless of how big or how small,
Also to protect her self esteem and worth,
Protect her values to live by,
Protect against any threats to her life,
Protect from a broken down cry.
Then lead from the front without a whine,
Lead life's game toward a win,
A win for everyone to own their own life
Own their fulfillment within.
And, finally, to teach how to approach life,
Like a confident successful man,
Showing his family how to live a life,
Being the best family man that he can.
We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature-trees, flowers, grass-grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence…We need silence to be able to touch souls—Mother Teresa [Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu]
“But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray.” (Luke 5:16)
In Silence
Her love--she speaks of silence,
without flaws or violence.
Calcutta’s poor whom she served,
this increasingly disturbed.
Simple, free from obsessions
These her only possessions,
a bucket and two saris,
is all she’ll own and carry.
While visiting Darjeeling,
by train saw poor suffering.
Saint Teresa heard the call,
solemn vows; provide for all.
Now known as “Mother” served us
of India for Jesus.
Inner conscience she had sought,
spoke Bengali where she taught.
This a tactical gambit,
chose a white sari habit
with a double blue border,
this she wore for the order.
Touching souls of lives her quest,
without silence there’s unrest.
As stars shine in alliance,
may the wind come in silence.
I am writing you this letter little love,
My precious gift from the almighty above,
I remember how months did not seem to move,
As I waited for your birth with immeasurable love,
Finally early morning 2nd of June my blessed little dove,
Announced her arrival with a soft little cry!
My eyes were filled with joyful tears,
Everyone was all happy and smile,
The room was alive with laughter and cheers,
All eager to receive you in pomp and style,
And you reciprocated with a soft little cry!
As I watched you lying down peacefully,
Folding your little tiny hands firmly,
My eyes roamed around your angelic face,
My hands were itching to touch your face,
Could not resist the desire to give you a kiss,
Behold what a momentous ecstatic bliss!
And out came your trade mark soft little cry!
I know ahead lies a daunting task,
To provide for you from dawn to dusk,
To bring you up in a proper good way,
And making sure nothing takes your joy away,
As you grow up, every single step of the way.
Will treasure your memorable soft little cry!
Extreme temperatures,
Melting of glaciers,
Rising sea level,
Wildfires,
Forests' obliteration,
Droughts,
Drying up of lakes and rivers,
Desertification,
Hurricanes,
Storms,
Flooding, and
Landslides,
Is the vocabulary Mother Nature uses to
Pen its stern warning to Man:
" Oh, you thoughtless being, mind your ways and revere
my eternal laws of harmonious cooperation and coexistence,
otherwise, I would not be able to provide for your subsistence."
-
© Demetrios Trifiatis
26 July 2023
-
For more than two weeks, the temperatures in Greece have been around
40 Celsius, sometimes, like today, it is 45.
During this period, wildfires are raging across the country. It comes on a day that
Our firefighters are trying to contain more than eighty fires.
-
Your wings was spread out to cover me,
like a shield on a battle field you protected me.
That storm came my way so that I couldn't see,
I couldn't see what was before me; the guidance
you gave that led me. On a path the way I should
go, there's no need to worry you always protect thee.
Your love is before me, my King has opened up the
windows heave above me, he dress me with his blessings,
he always provide for thee. I should not want or need of any,
his love is guaranteed to bless me. In his presence he does not
deny me, in the mist of all troubles if I pray honestly from the
heart he shall deliver me. My rock, my King, there's no one that
can break that bond of you and me. My Lord, my God, will protect me.