Best Redirect Poems
Sitting on the cusp of dusk and evening
Placidly he ruminates where life has been
When she still believed in vibrant springs
And exulted dawning of purple mornings
Echoing exuberance of seasons’ calling
Fragile, yet colorful, as autumnal leaves
Delicate, aesthetic, as snowflakes falling--
Until she chose to surrender her dreams.
Oh! how fervently she cherished streams
Zigzagging ebulliently on their property
Digging lanes through prairies dark green,
Giggling, rushing, curving, on life-journey,
Pointing zealously, how to redirect destiny
Hosting daydreams of daffodils, milkweeds,
And tranquil bliss edifying lotus sanctuary.
Pity, neither did he feel her zestful appeal,
Nor could he allay those spaces left empty--
Between life as it is, and life that could be--
Saddled by incongruence defying harmony.
Lonesome he wailed tracing her footprints:
Cheered birds singing, doted stars twinkling,
Breathed-in her air scented with jasmines,
Buzzed in moth-passions of nocturnal winds,
Gazed deep woods where moon was rising,
And found her there, but not her meaning.
Yet, she came by, reminiscing through time,
Staying long enough, scanning the night skies--
But much as she tried, the Venus didn’t smile,
Alas! when she left, that was final goodbye.
April 28, 2021
Poem of the day on April 29, 2021
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Forlorn Hope
Rising on island,
Mountain, with peaks of possibility,
Valley lush and green.
When my knees collapse, lightning and thunder -
Call it butterflies.
The palms warmed and cooled us, warned us, fooled us.
Explosive, our love -
Once conjoined, often drifting in the sea,
Eyes leaping with fire.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
Hearts of stone, lifting upwards, tears running,
Drifting on riffraff.
Outbreak of chortling might redirect winds.
La la…ooh…la la.
Sips of berries and pineapple; we share
Icy tropical
Attempts to cool things down; steam underfoot.
Ebb and flow of raft,
Seeking to poke embers - attentive ears.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
Collapse of civilization, in grass
Skirt, paradise shirt,
Atomic timing sans wearing a watch.
Heads buried in sand -
Lips meeting in molten-red, not passive,
Dirty and tender.
Swimming in sweep of lava lake, suntan-
Baked, gliding upwards,
Climactic eruption, falling with love.
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
We ride the flume of volcanic weather,
Can’t raise the tall man,
Seek the insane chance of sane survival -
Valiancy in strife.
Man and wife seeking each other’s island -
Pieces fit just right.
Synchronic habitation, breathing room.
Volcano’s, how old?
In the end it shuts its mouth… a whisper
Hot Lava, Lover,
Have we been here before? You’re smoking hot!
I see three doors before me.
The one to the left is blue, a beautiful lupis blue
with ornate lacework in its center.
Parisian-esque, it looks likes an entrance to adventure
and inspires me with its sophistication.
I imagine inside the rooms beyond that door
exotic curios on shelves along the walls
or tables heaped with charming little treasures.
My muse’s curiosity is sparked!
The middle door I see is that of a welcoming house.
Beneath two large rectangles of decorative glass
hangs a straw wreath adorned with festive flowers.
A friendly-looking white lab sits in front of this door
and on each side of it on the old-fashioned porch
are two pots of pretty geraniums.
I imagine beyond this door friends and family
gathered around the kitchen table
finishing Mom’s delicious apple pie
and preparing to break open a pack of cards
or sit beside their fireplace, playing charades
or perhaps singing along to a guitar.
The part of me that longs for warmth of family
lingers at this door.
The last door I spy
much farther away and surrounded by trees
is a light green door blending in with nature,
unadorned and not as high as the first two doors.
Were it a bit smaller and round, it could almost be
the door to a hobbit’s cottage.
A bower of vines spreads around it
covering the brown bricks of the house,
and a short cobblestone pathway leads upward
to this simple but interesting door.
I know that if I open it and wander in,
solitude will surely greet me, a solitude so sweet
that when I shut the door behind me,
I’ll leave behind the stresses of my life.
I will have entered another world
where I can rest and meditate. . .
perchance to write.
I look back at the first door, imagining the thrill
of discovery. Its charming blue entices me.
Then I return my gaze to the second door
from which warmth and empathy exude.
I redirect my gaze to the third door. . .
Which do I want more?
New experiences? Intimacy? Peacefulness?
Creative inspiration could reside behind all three.
Which one do I choose?
Which one would YOU choose?
March 28, 2017
for the Doors Contest of Anthony Biaanco
Inner sanctuary
envision harmony and mental clarity
focus on a journey of possibility
Meditate on transformation and
awareness of inner state
peace and healing
Constructive thought
instruct your mind
to redirect the lost and struggling inner voice
Where you can’t see the wood for the trees
under your nose is the path of freedom
wholeness
Put aside perceived struggles
revitalize, relax, respond
to body, mind, heart and spirit
Intuition, introspection and spiritual renewal
bring about personal healing and
conscious awakening
Stillness of mind – concentration
Thoughts of the subconcious and subliminal
beyond all negativity
away from all interuption
To allow time for self communication and
expression of inner self
Senses – awareness of scent, sight, sound, taste and touch
Healing hands of the medical profession or alternative therapy
ambiance, temperature, oils, music, sounds and
sights of nature or universe
realisation comes in various form and shape
causing us to feel life in fullest expression
Connecting – whispers of wind
radiating everpresent warmth of sun
a blanket of love and light comforts consoles over and through the cosmos
rippling infinately through infinity outwards, onwards
connecting right back into where we are at right now
unmoved unchanged and as we were
Wise – responsible courageous allowed to let go of need to be judgemental or
be judged
let go of controlling enable trust wisdom and humility
intelligence of knowing others
wisdom of knowing self
strength in mastering others
power to master oneself
Energy -breath, force, spirit, soul, God, universe –
whatever – doesn’t matter how you refer to it on personal level
energy, balance, light, sound, vibration, peace
centered self – stillness – silent – eternal –
to have enough is a richness in itself
accept appreciate and acknowledge oneself
It’s so much chaos in the
world and folk are just mad.
When that happens all hell
breaks loose.
Then on lookers say, why
are they so mad and angry?
Is there a reason for such
madness?
In most case, you're Darn
right.
Being mad is not the culprit,
what one “does” in anger is.
Get mad at injustices of the
world and start a revolution.
Don't sit and stew on it and let
it become something vicious.
When that happens it's like
poison in your veins.
We must not let “our” valid
reason to be mad or angry
cause us to do something
foolish.
Let anger influence you to
to do something good for the
betterment of us all.
3-16-19
Alexis Y.
Like an eye looking out through black and blue night.
Scintillating squint in Dead of Winter; looking through
Slat of the Midwinter blind. The Canadian waning of light.
I could have been listening to a sermon, sitting on a pew.
Caught the “deer in headlights,” before the eye closed.
It was like peeping through a hole of the universe; gold.
Tree branches spread out, as if fancy’s figment disclosed.
I’m open to chiaroscuro and the Creator’s diurnal hold.
Could have been an angel’s flashlight, looking for a fleck.
Perhaps where Heaven touches earth, that is so cold.
The wind twines with hymns and the flurries hit the deck.
A groom carries a splendiferous bride across the threshold.
God’s natural art emboldens impressions with constant sear.
The intensity both bold and minute embrace our existence.
Climatically they manifest, grab hold, redirect, and adhere.
Never ending dispersion of colors and seasonal coexistence.
The avalanche of human souls
those who crossed over
before achieving their goals.
So their spirits linger on,
and their loved ones hear them moan
as whispers in their thoughts.
The corporeal self can flee
the physical pain of life,
but emotion and intellect continue
spirit, the soul intact.
It takes time to release regrets,
to mourn the loss of life,
to reconnect or redirect
that entity of energy.
But it goes on.
They are still out there.
They are still involved.
They still care.
Those whispered words in your sleep,
the loved one’s phrases you draw on
that is them.
If you quiet your mind
and stop your ego interfering,
you can tune into intuition
and hear them without superstition.
It is otherworldly,
outstanding.
It will change the course of your life.
Death has a new meaning
and so does life.
The meaning of life is the complex web we weave:
all the interactions, all the souls we meet,
all the objectives and accomplishments we drive.
We are the sum of our intentions and actions,
and for those we pay
working off karmic debt,
living life over in replay.
In contrast to Western religion,
we return to this spot
to figure things out;
life lessons are sought.
And with that, if we have met,
we shall likely meet again.
We shall likely meet again.
©In the Afterlife - Artimus, Susan Manley 1/17/2026 12:18AM All Rights Reserved
Upon revelation’s flight
Under Orion’s focus
I witness a fiery glow towards familiar horizons.
‘Tis no sunrise
It is a striking reality.
My saddened retinas witness monochromatic pitchforks,
Desolated screams,
Embellished declarations from misguided leaders
And self-made stallions riding into condescending sunsets
Without any earned punctuation to be taken seriously
A House of Eroded Representatives
A village of One
A village of souls
Pushing
Back
…
There was a home upon these well-worn landing strips.
This was my home.
But, these forged rooftops now taste
Withering, hurricane gusts of red velvet cake’s mold
Rusted nails forcibly detached from honored foundations
Unto egotistical coffins
The reality
Shining through meter-less corruptions
Comes full circle
Small doses of poisonous vendettas
Fed from tarnished, silver spoons
Echoes of Cuban Fidel
Lace elasticity of “open arms”
With onyx, unfiltered coffee drops
Coating infant’s petulant lip
Witnessing cotton-less sheep walking with listless fervor
Towards silenced, condemned “Noahs”
I signal pilot within my melancholic wisdoms
To redirect our flight
To a new horizon
To an unsheltered domain
Where even waterfalls still allow
Conducive verbiage to rise
Amongst the unabashedly meek
To a destination
Where stature is defined by all
Not by one
Where character
Is developed under accountabilities’ pen
Where high horses & curtained theatrics
Are the only victims of banned tomorrows
Where honor
Is still defined
Without deleted, impulsive banter
Where friendship,
Love,
Wisdom,
Memories,
Shine
…
Because
Things
Things are no longer the same
Things are no longer the same
Things are no longer the same.
©Drake J. Eszes
“And my ties are severed clean. The less I have, the more I gain. Off the beaten path, I reign.” –Wherever I may Roam by Metallica (my lifelong song)
Looking in the distance, I see you there,
waiting for Heaven-knows-what quietly.
Nobody knows how much you mean to me.
We cannot express this feeling we share.
How much I want to redirect your stare,
there aren't words. Hoping unhappily,
I wish for you to be mine, silently.
This unlucky occurrence is unfair.
But it does not lessen your attraction,
Or just they way your big bright green eyes shine.
Nothing will ever shake my emotions.
Longing, I think of how how you are so kind
Your appeal, beauty and captivation.
All of this is unable to be mine.
We’re so tired, of winter’s, snow and ice,
For too long, we have been, within our house, winter’s price.
Why won’t you come, to visit us, and sing?
Where we’ll be touched, by your sun, so heartily, beaming.
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our sweet Spring?
We need you, so very longingly!
We saw you peak out, for just one day.
Then you quickly, and suddenly, ran so very far away.
So we did a Rain Dance, and danced in the cold.
Without your shinning brightness, all we got, was cold snow!
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Why did you run, so very far, with your blessing!
We sought the Groundhog, that he ask you, to come back.
But he was burrowed, deep beneath, all the snow, and ice pack.
He wouldn’t open his door, as we knocked, true and hard.
He refused, to even come out, as he denied the pleas, of this bard!
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our precious, sweet Spring?
We beseech thee, to please come back, to me!
The trees want to bloom; their sprouts are ready, to collect.
Our hearts are there beside them, under this winter, and it’s effects.
We’ll sit here, dreaming of the beauty, only you can affect.
We’re hopeful, can’t wait, but now at March’s mercy, and redirect.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Our hearts and souls want to be warmed by thee!
What? Dragon and I see you! We rejoice my friend!
Our hearts, like the trees, are beginning, to warm again.
The snow is leaving; all is greening, before our eyes.
We beg you, to please stay here, solidly, close by our side.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
At last! It doesn’t matter! We have you back, and all that you bring!
Written for my good Friend Jack Ellison.
I'm traveling north
At a fraction of the speed of light
In a linear progression
Through the dimension of time
A point mass
A particle
Going in a straight line
The interesting stuff happens
When your path hits mine
A collision
A decision
To connect
Or redirect
Each path a new
Direction
Each direction a new
Path
It's all relative
I'm the center of the universe
All I see
Is mapped from me
It's all relative
You're the center of the universe
All you do
Is mapped from you
It's all relative
We're the center if the universe
All we need
Is mapped from we
There goes the clock
Tick tock
tick...
tock...
Slower and slower
As I go faster and faster
Traveling north
At the speed of light
A point mass
A particle
Hurtling towards
A destination
A collision
An intersection
A decision
How thin the line between respect and fear
A line too thin for little boys to see
They look the same beneath the bully tree
If pain's involved, it's rarely ever clear
Some dads use fear to teach their sons respect
But we have learned that doesn't always work
On some occasions, some may go berserk
With most, that fear, they simply redirect
But as the years went by we understood
Imaginary lines are in the mind
Fear is a forced response, respect is earned
My children learned respect... as children should,
I did not have to paddle their behind
Respect they gave, was lovingly returned.
Daniel Turner
FISHING SHADOWS © Haiku
Two fins tread water
Fish swim the shadowed shelf ledge
Breathing from its gills!
Swimming Fish © Haiku
Probing fish swim near
Fins redirect the swimming ‘school’
And a baited worm waits!
Safe Place © Haiku
Deep broken ships lay
With some hiding fish
Far from unseen predators.
fish
Hooked Fish © Haiku
Fish fins steer the swim
Far from hidden predators
And baited worm hook-lines!
fish
FISHING SHADOWS © Haiku
Fish under the sea
Breathing from two gills
While fins tread water!
fish
Swimming Fish © Haiku
Safely from death's door
Fluttering fins steer the swim
Predators are seen!
fish
DARK SPACES © Haiku
Bidding fish on sunken ships
Lay in gloom from lighted dark spaces
Way far from death's floor!
Why do we presume to be so great
When we hasten so to tempt our fate
Are our souls so in need of danger
Starting thus while in the manger
Bullet proof and over ten feet tall
Flying way before we can crawl
Drawn always to a brilliant light
Oblivious to our perilous plight
We run and rage on every page
Never heeding the advice of sage
Charging headlong into the wind
Pausing briefly only to append
If this thing I could understand
Maybe my life I could amend
This longing for freedom perchance
Could this cause such a dance
Maybe we can truly be this great
If we can only redirect out fate.
My Salem, my shalom, maybe yours as well -
Be well; build a well again – we’ll all be well, or
Better than before in Jerusalem of the heart
Whose Jerusalem made Jesus weep?
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, You who kill the Prophets …”
Forgive me, Redirect me, as your beloved exiles sang
Even in despair as long as millennia, you call your own!
Salem of mystery, of history, of prophecy!
Jesus had wanted to gather her under His tallit, Robe
Of Righteousness – by our Rabbi of Righteousness.
Jesus showed his royal face and mystery-lineage once
To Abraham, revered Patriarch, respected Father:
As the High-Priest without beginning or end,
Melchizadek, King of Salem & Righteousness!
Who took the first tithe from our father-in-common
And delivered bread and wine: the first Communion
O Jerusalem of Jesus, How Long – how much longer?
I adore Thee like no earthly City
Come Jerusalem, Mother, Father, Heaven, Earth
All tongues sing of Thee, O Jerusalem, Come
I,I Second
Jerusalem land of faith, land of all religions on earth
Jerusalem oh beloved Jerusalem, land of martyrs and saintly blood
Jerusalem where Prophet Muhammad rose to the seventh sky
You're the heaven that's on earth
You're the meaning of purity and clarity,
The meaning of beauty and love, Jerusalem –
Land of GOD and all prophets
We seek you, we pray … to be in the hands of GOD
In you we seek to illuminate the darkness from our hearts
In you we seek freedom from our sins
Jerusalem oh beloved Jerusalem
We will die without you; we will fight to love you like others
You belong to God’s children; all of God – yes, ALL of GOD
III, Third
My Jerusalem, Thy Jerusalem, City of Past
And forever; replete with Prophecy – Speak!