Best Recovers Poems
How do I praise your influence, oh Rumi?
For you are the essence of my poetry.
Poet's quote.
I was lost in mournful melodies of birds,
until death brought me back to life through your words.
My sleeping spirit now roams in your garden's blooms,
spinning from nothingness against toxic fumes.
Polishing of my heart left me in a trance,
through cleansing of pain, I learned how to dance.
I had not drank wine, but walked like a drunkard,
dizziness helped to forget where I wandered.
You taught; how the beloved lives in my heart.
To let go of those who wanted to depart.
To stop chasing stories and myths from the past.
To break free from the prisons our minds can cast.
When you change with wisdom, your soul recovers,
ascends to the sky in a world of lovers.
Now I have wings and no longer crawl through life,
never raise my words to cause another strife.
Ignore those who remind of disease and death.
That love is the bridge between my sweetheart's breath.
I closed my eyes, fell in love and remain there.
Life is a guest house, so I dwell without care.
The poem is based on Rumi quotes and poems.
Mathnawi or Masnavi is a Persian a type of poetry, originating from the Arabic word Mathnawi, written in rhyming units and which follow a pattern of eleven or sporadically ten syllables without any length limits. This one is eleven syllables per line.
Tom Turkey got lost 'midst the teeming flock,
Thus, avoiding the dreaded chopping block!
Hunkering down spared his life,
Averting the carving knife!
He now recovers from traumatic shock!
I’ve tasted the bitter gall of betrayal and I’ve accepted an apology that I never received.
I’ve rescued enemies and held them while they grieved.
I’ve breathed life into those who have wished me dead and cursed my name;
For their inequities I have taken blameless blame.
When I was met with the choice to let love die or let it live,
In my darkest moments, I chose to forgive.
Even as my emotions were in turmoil, my feelings so far flung
Words of forgiveness were bittersweet on my tongue.
“I forgive you” is such a hard phrase to say.
But with those words, love wins in every way.
People make mistakes, it’s part of our core
Temptations are part of life; the excitement; the allure.
In forgiving, I set myself free from the power of pain
Forgiveness is the soothing, cleansing rain.
We rebuild, love lives.
The heart recovers; it forgives.
We try, we fail, we try again because we love.
Forgiveness is angels’ song from above.
In my heart, love will live.
Because I love them, I will forgive.
Tombs begin to bloom like raw, bloodless wounds.
Tomes are written with truths of her dead moon’s
tones. A keening lunacy keeps the dirges alive, while
bones rise out of repose. A degloved hand on the dial
hones into a night rainbow's radio, she runs on solar,
hopes for the rhythm to wrench free from her toller—
copes with the captivity of being bodiless hands. Twilight
comes to chance escape—open palms toward birthright.
Coves burst into flame; a hungry fire wants holier water.
Coven circles, recovers the skinless limbs of their daughter.
Woven like song, sirens' balm to restore coats of missing arms,
women are spells read correctly, using words as our alarms,
woken to language, resurrecting ancient pairs of sacred charms.
A CHRISTMAS AGO
My Christmas present list
Every year
Got longer and longer,
What to buy
Whether far or near
I certainly have always got joy
Out of giving,
Just two months ago, I thought
Things are getting out of hand,
What is Christmas all about,
Faith and family and
Being together,
No matter in Iceland
Or at the equator
Whether you are freezing,
Or in frazzling hot weather,
Most important, is
To be all together!
Used to rush out and shop
Up to Christmas Eve,
Ticking off this one and that,
Is this perhaps true,
Do you see yourself,
Is this a fact?
When as before,
Read, or today 'Googled'
Before World War one
Money was scarce,
Yet Christmas was fun!
Enjoy this wonderful day
For what it is,
Buy Christmas crackers I agree,
Pull them, bang, between
You with glee,
Hear the Christmas carols,
On Christmas morn,
Perhaps make a toy
For your boy,
Dad has tools and imagination
Feel free to craft with
With creative fascination,
And mummy,
Can make her yummy
Christmas cookies and
Perhaps write a poem,
To her little girl
Put a rag doll together,
Out of straw, material
Feather and leather!
Smell the turkey,
And potatoes, roasting,
Hear them sizzling,
Laughter and merriment
For the less fortunate,
Eating a piece of bread
Under a bridge on cement
We should take stock,
Not easy when your
World is a whirlpool,
A rat race,
Begin to face,
Reality and give to the poor,
Next Christmas to enter
This door,
You will do with
More ease
Give to the poor, please!
Save the world from plastics,
And fake gifts,
And Christmas suddenly
Will have meaning,
The world slowly
Recovers and shifts.
gravity craves in the sky
weightless surrender -
comet reaches rock bottom
tides foam a lullaby
crested lengths wave -
ripples focus underneath
horizon lingers abreast
pain drenched capture -
currents expose lost hope
a life buoy tied to an anchor
flare soaked in life’s blood -
cess pool seizes cessation
atlantis meet nirvana
tranquility draws in the sand-
jetsam leads the way
the saviour dies dried tears
an offering’s nail to the cross -
hobgoblin mocks the journey
drift wood walks on water
parts with seven wild seas -
beach hut shelters new dreams
a lonely star fish grants company
octopus offers eight fold path -
tentacles points to serenity
shooting star recovers attraction
wings hardship and meaning -
levitation mediates sorrow
earth-wind meets fire
mermaid shares fins -
life life rescues calm voyage
07th February 2020
Strolling down through the meadow today
Spring flowers are budding, growing tall,
Smaller forest creatures will be out to play.
At the far end the woodland recovers from fall,
I can hear a slight wind blow through the trees
Spring flowers are budding, growing tall.
Nothing is more refreshing than a spring breeze
Filling my congested lungs with the freshest air,
I can hear a slight wind blow through the trees.
Near the edge of the forest a fox leaves it lair,
And I watch it creep slowly toward its prey
Filling my congested lungs with the freshest air.
It makes me sad, but it’s just nature’s way,
Knowing little rabbit will become a fox’s meal
And I watch it creep slowly toward its prey.
I watch the unfolding drama, breathless still,
Strolling down through the meadow today
Knowing little rabbit will become a fox’s meal,
Smaller forest creatures will be out to play.
written March 4, 2022
Flies swarm the dead corpse lying in the dirt.
A day passes without a flower or soft spoken word.
Footsteps approach, stop; shuffle back and forth,
kick the soil then meander on.
Blustery wind blows cold, whipping up debris
then laying it atop the stiff body.
The night air sings a shrilling melody till the
eyes of dawn.
Twilight yawns; a heap of compost now covers the
lifeless soul, footsteps return and imprint the mound
so neatly designed.
The cold wind cries as the trees stretch and bow in grief.
A stray dog, discovers the heaping debris and begins
to dig; recovers a bone then runs away.
This mortal world numb to this unknown entity
lying discarded on the freezing earth, unburied and
forgotten…
Copyright © 2004 By Caryl S. Muzzey
A special woman,
With a heart of gold,
Was able to walk, talk,
And perform on her own,
Her husband loves her,
Because shes simple and sweet,\
Till one day,
She was in a horrific accident,
In the hospital,
Laying in bed,
Her husband staying by her side,
She awakes,
And finds herself shocked,
She can't walk,
It's hard for her to talk,
Little by little,
Step by step,
She tries to take back,
Control of her life,
Her husband leaves her,
He gets tired of waiting,
She fully recovers,
With very few problems left,
He comes back,
Hoping she will forgive and forget,
She looks at him,
And begins to say,
"God bless you,
For I have managed on my own,
No help from you,
Because now your gone,
You left me high and dry,
When I needed you the most,
But I have over come it all,
You continue your life,
Without me,
Since you have left,
I have found myself again,
And I am very happy,
So god bless you,
And move on your way,
For I have tackeled all of this,
And you,
And it's time for me,
To continue this in my own way.....
As I drive by the end of days I see a pumpkin and a happy witch on the doorstep of my joy,
As I pass by my four year old’s awe toward friendly ghosts down the street of nostalgia,
I am reminded of Saints gone home and good souls on their penitent journey,
Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, Paul Robeson and the poets of my past,
Hendrix, Morrison, Michael, Louis Armstong and the Sounds of my testimony,
Prince and Wynton Marsalis, Miles Davis, Amadeus, Earth, Wind, and Fire,
Saints living, saints dead, souls vibrant, souls sad in the darkness of regret,
We are a glorious symphony on this, this all Hallows Eve,
The eve of that day when I celebrate the muses of my sacrifice and the foundations of my epiphanies,
“Halloween is here” my youngest daughter exclaims and I am reminded of many a night spent scavenging for sweet things and expectant laughter,
Tragic kings like Edgar Allen and Charlie Parker, souls with so much pregnant genius that the world was too much for them,
It is our celebration dear friends that will move the mountains of discontent,
And so in this season of harvest, carpe diem calls me to absorb as much love as I can as the sun sets on purple leaves and gorgeous corn stalks,
And in mother Africa, the ancestors dance like their Celtic sisters who fused the worship of our Lord and the glory of mother Gaia,
And in mother Africa the land recovers from the grief stricken sting of rape,
And in mother Africa my sisters and brothers celebrate the saints gone forward into that great mystery,
Tecumseh and Black Elk I celebrate the brilliance of your aptitude,
And I cry with you in triumph for the resurrection of a people forsaken but not defeated,
Come Glory,
On this All Hallows Eve, I celebrate the beauty of a journey full of confusion and catharsis,
For the reality is that we truly cannot fail,
As our cloud of witnesses sing to me of the victory that awaits,
Tonight, adorned with the fashion of merriment,
And the subtle chill of October wind reds our lips,
Come Glory and Glory be to the faithful departed,
Happy Halloween!
Corn bread warm from the hot oven
Slathered with butter
Tasty snack, lips smack nosily
Blood glucose recovers
Mustard greens upon the eye
An aroma floats by
Lured to the kitchen food to try
Baked sweet potatoes spy
Creamed mashed potatoes in plain sight
Maybe taste just a few
Fresh banana peppers eaten
Now who will the dishes do
You have to love them to sift their latrine,
The uric fragrance burning your nose and eyes
As you render their special place fresh and clean--
One of them watches, impatient, and sighs.
You have to be ready for sleep-rending howls
When one recovers his ragged cloth ball--
At twelve or two--shaking it with feral growls,
Boasting his prey up and down the hall.
You must be attentive--even at four--
If bowls are empty and bellies not full:
Rude rattling and scratching on the bedroom door
Has such a hypnotic, nerve-racking pull.
How apt the pharaohs decreed them divine,
While litter-box slaves were treated like swine.
DRUGS AND HUGS!!
Drugs in Sport, Teens on drugs,
Does society give them too many hugs?
Bullying and drug deals,
Dealers are a bunch of heels,
Teens lost to 'the scene',
Who recovers damaged teens?
Drugs in sports,
Winning's a rort,
Most drugs wins, I thought,
Drugs in sports, teens on drugs,'
Who gave them too many hugs?
Author of “The Satanic Verses” was stabbed
this morning in NYC.
In New York, doing a reading, that city which
now allows criminality.
Yes, I know a Fatwa, was put on his life.
But he’s fearless, not out to please and can
deal with strife.
I do hope he successfully recovers.
I like writers who do not put truth under pretty,
people pleasing covers!
A few of his quotes are listed below..
They are universal for all free counties.
1. What is freedom of expression!
Without the right to offend, it ceases to
exist.
2. Language is courage: The ability to
conceive a thought, to speak it, and
by doing so, to make it true.
3. A mature society, understands that at
the heart of democracy, is argument!
8/12/2022
-1-
UPDATE….RUSHDIE WAS STABBED IN THE NECK
AND FACE SEVERAL TIMES……
HE MAY LOSE AN EYE.
5pm PST 8/12/2022.
UPDATE…RUSHDIE WAS PUT ON A VENTILATOR
THIS EVENING.
‘8PM PST 8/12/2022
A dog has been hit, flattened by a truck
The driver speeds away
The Mystery Machine is in the vicinity we are in luck
Scooby Doo on a leash, to show he's not a stray
Shaggy's Liverwurst Peanutbutter Pizza coming up at the sight of the scene
Fred, Daffeney and Thelma begin to scream
Scooby Doo lifts his nose and smells the guy
Scooby Doo CSI
Shaggy recovers and puts up the tape
Thelma take notes on the model and the make
The van now has all the portable lab props
Fred cuts off the local cops
Daffeny broke a nail and everyone stops
Daffeny acting all innocent and shy
Welcome to Scooby Doo CSI
Tire tracks say a lot when read by expert
Baretta shows up with his fancy white bird
Barney Fife shows up with his fingerprint kit
Bobby Brady is asked to leave, what a twit
Shaggy and Fred slam a six pack of Bud Dry
Scooby Doo must continue, Scooby Doo CSI