Best Reinvented Poems
Professor Hapgood’s studies on ancient maps were fixed
Einstein said his theories should be added to history’s mix
Perhaps it proved too big a leap for other minds to take
But his ancient culture findings, Hapgood would not forsake
6000 BC, before Egypt’s pyramids were built
Millennia before Pompeii’s lava had been spilled
Or small fishing boats hugged the Mediterranean Coast
And Columbus’s “daring” voyage was not even close
Ancient seafarers drew with astounding accuracy
Maps of the world they once knew, the fishermen’s legacy
Antarctica sans ice and closer to the equator
The Mid-Atlantic Ridge once an above-sea sky scraper
Siberia touching Alaska with no Bering Strait
(Palin could have seen Russia without snow from her back gate)
Cuba, England, Sweden, too, on these maps appear clearly
But Sweden’s fully glacial; England’s blanket an ice sheet
If we believe Hapgood, a civilization once thrived
Thousands of years before language; maps keep memories alive
Technology to chart the seas was lost in ancient times
With latitude and longitude measurements quite refined
Sea kings’ cities may have succumbed during the last Ice Age
Surviving nations lost their skill when history turned a page
Geography to be found again when the Earth had healed
“Discoverers” reinvented the forgotten ship’s wheel
Magellan, perhaps not the first to sail around the globe
Admiral Byrd not the first man to visit the South Pole
Spirits from a colony of seafarers can be found
From deep beneath Antarctic ice, they try to spread the word
But laugh they must as scientists forecast global warming
And man attempts to alter life and heed their dire warning
Shifting poles? Natural cycles! Men would be well advised
To study the maps Hapgood found and open their closed minds
To learn more about Professor Charles Hapgood’s map studies and the comments made by
Albert Einstein, you can visit http://www.crystalinks.com/crustal.html.
Heart Release
Oh how I have tried to push you away
......Fear
Escaping into daydreams and fantasy
Purposeful intentions and made-up agendas
Pretending you were unimportant
Something to avoid
Chocolate chip cookies and Chardonnay
Softened your advance
Pushing you down
Your effervescence rising from the depths
Clinging to me like morning mist on the seashore
Oh how I long to know you
Almighty Fear
Come to me
Dance with the molecules of my soul
Become me
For we share one breath
Let me embrace you
Jump into my arms
My child
Let me caress your intention
For lifetimes I have sought
To push you away
Not recognizing or being ready
For the messages you deliver
My heart is open now
My ego silent
I welcome your arrival
I grasp your hand
I swim in your torrent
Twisting and turning
Making my way
I allow upheaval
Grief and tears
Unlocking buried treasures
Unearthing promise
Welcoming rebirth
I feel you beckon me onward
Traveling with you to Astral planes
Far beyond this Universe
Through darkness and mist
Witnessing the outer glow
Of dying stars
Flickering flames reinvented
Into birthing baby seeds
Cocoons of life opening
New forms spring into
Consciousness
White yellow glow
Fluttering velvet softness tickles the air
My senses alive
You have become my partner
I encircle you now old friend
You inhabit my soul
Riding this wave of life
Grateful for you
Fear
when industry
stood on this soil
with chimneys that
spewed sweat and toil
the furnace fires
relied on mines
through arteries
of railway lines.
now looking back
to charcoal skies
through rosy mists
of childhood eyes
a line of trucks
each filled with rocks
crawled slowly past
a signal box.
the building formed
a silhouette
that framed a scene
I wont forget:
the dying of
that worldly light
was captured there
in black and white.
I'm standing now
where true art stood:
in a 'reinvented'
neighbourhood
where sleepers sleep
beneath the grass
where once those engines
used to pass.
You asked me to forgive you
Still you would cause me pain again
Your words rained down like daggers
Soaking my soul with so much pain
I know i was taught to forgive
It became harder every day
All the ways you had to hurt me
I was the game you loved to play
You had quite an imagination
The ways you would describe my demise
Thankfully I chose not to follow
Yours was a pathway paved with lies
In my mind I reinvented
Chose a future that was worthwhile
Yes I took a few steps backwards
Still moving forward all the while
As the gap between us lengthened
God took my heart and made it whole
Yes beginnings are important
I learned forgiveness plays a role
It was not so much about you
Or all the things that you had done
My healing could not be complete
Without knowing God's only Son
There is light beyond the darkness
Perhaps one day I will see your face
I hope you asked God for forgiveness
Your sins will be gone without a trace
If my Savior can forgive you
The way he has forgiven me
There is more to who you were
Than what I was able to see
I forgive you dad
Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum,
you should have seen me how it made me slightly drunk;
and jumping and screaming I danced to the beats of a drum...
then grandma joined in and she sang a classical song!
And the sweet cream was on my lips and cheeks,
the Babba' al Rhum was delicious and I topped it with chocolate;
everybody began shouting, "It came from Paris,
but we Neapolitans reinvented it by improving its shape and taste!"
Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum, soaking it in that liqueur much longer;
and Papa' always told me to eat more of it...saying with a suppressing laughter,
"It's a man's dessert, after you eat it, you'll be strong!"
Oh, did he really tell me the truth? No, he was wrong!
It's so very sad that they aren't here,
and I am eating pretzels and drink a beer,
the harmony that stirred their passion can't possibly return...
as they danced on the terrace to celebrate the day I was born!
Mamma Anna knew how to make the best Babba' al Rhum,
and I licked the dripping rum with my finger...not my tongue!
She spoke calmly...when she should have gotten mad and picked up a broom;
no, she was never mean and rude, or ever said to me, " Go to your room!"
Hallelujah, born again
chapels scheming, mankind reeling
in holy water's baptism of wizardly elixir
postulating an all consuming reverence,
rejuvenated myths of deiform fears
as reinvented nature flows in
lickety split's Latin discombobulation
Aggrandizement randomly written
in santuary's intensly scripted blather
increasing histrionics' translations,
'pon bled origins' of original sin
Amen's passed the poison apple mid shrines'
overflowing baskets of coined redemption
Tilt, you go to that fantasy in the sky
Hallelujah, born again
wherefrom archangels' herald lightworks,
otherwise Beelzebub will gladly impose
his heated grasp in welcoming you warmly
to a dark side of the fried fray,
difference in ashes' revival supposedly
are prayer & the almighty dollar,
naught to do with compassion & good will towards men,
ailing old frail women nor starving children,
falling prey to greener hard currency's salivating salvation
priestly entitled behaviors' disconcertingly repugnance,
who knew...gospel's chapter & functional verse
could be so dastardly rendered in man's
higher power of accommodated perversions
Singing of love on a summer’s day
She decided it was stupid, and quickly said
Why do so many women think it’s the only way?
If they don’t have a man they want to be dead?
She packed up her sense of excitement and happy guitar.
Being her own person, she reinvented herself.
Her old friends were excited. “Lady Gaga is a star!”
Some feeling sad, they had settled for a spice rack and shelf.
She sang of her trial and tribulations, other people’s too.
Designing her own clothes, she showed a daring outrage.
She was upbeat and positive; her songs were sassy, not blue.
All other women should take out her book and study a page.
She does not settle, she blazes her own unique path.
Stupid love she sings at the top of her lungs, scaring men all around.
She does not wait for others, and cares not about their wrath.
Even her enemies have to admit she is the best entertainer in town!
Ebony eyes eclipse ripping away sun
Moon blooms of golden gloom
Lips lacking limerick’s lift
Onyx mood swings back and forth
Like grey grandfather clock
Time ticking as a blues bomb
Raining purple passionate pain
clouded by lemon lyrical labyrinth
Of love lacking it’s sweet liquor
The bittersweet longing embraced
Tastes like red regrets sifted through time
Straining to be reinvented not lamented
In black bird’s somber death song
Sacred and solemn in honor of loss
Mourning is important inked in green
Like poison ivy uncomfortable
But never worthless as it is digested
And creates cranberry calling to
Remember the fallen angels
With soft tears laid like roses
On the cold creamy colored casket
You reinvented me
giving me a rebel's energy,
providing license for my love to sing
the touch of your soul meaning everything,
From us wild words arose
speaking of history and stars we chose,
expecting too much of Destiny
venturing on through wilderness and purity,
Inspiration innocent in it's infliction
made us bleed for need of salted affection,
exhibitionists with effrontery for the eyes of etiquette
expressionism unfolding humanism from stellar grit,
When wisdom had no mercy
she was a woman feminine in fury,
wanting to be stronger than truth
when I said I love you she demanded no proof,
All she wanted was a pretty poem
poetry that brings happiness home,
so we made substance of swagger
feeding life gold mined from passion's matter -
J.A.B.
"Bodies of Work"
Wings lift us up
on the old works
reinvented
beauty
is what we want,
beauty in the mind
we invoke
a new world,
continuum in harmony
it sings
in the strange,
beautiful things
in the heart
to mind
quantum
phenomenon
magnetised
Wings lift us up
away from the old
bodies of work
Venus rising
luminescent
via lucis
Elysium
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
lux vitae
I am no revolutionary
For mine is not an ideal
A noble statement
I ain’t gonna give a speech
No riling up crowds, riots
This ain’t no cause
No movement for you to join
All that it is
A cry to the heavens
I am a man tired
Tired of all this
This pain, this agony
An agony so debilitating
This ain’t no call to arms
For a weakling that I am
I would be swatted like a fly
Nay. I ain’t no rabble-rouser
All that I am
A man in pain
I do not seek death
Martyrdom ain’t my thing
Only rest is on my mind
Respite from this life
This gloomy darkness
Rancid, unenticing
An opiate do I seek
A release, cathartic
Mine ain’t a war cry
A call to arms
All that it is
A plea for compassion
I am a man born
Bearing a burden, the future
Their hope for redemption
The herald
A dawn long awaited.
I am a man born to sufferance
Toiling, grafting
My destiny, lost in time
The guilt dragging me down
Futility, my staple diet
Yet I can’t be a Luther King
All that I am
A man weary
Voiceless we were, far too long
Enduring, hoping
Toiling to turn the tides
We been understanding, docile
Willing for a flicker, a spark
Patient, wishing
But now we tire
There is no life for the lambs
Only slaughter and darkness
Destiny is reinvented
A cold hard truth,
Silence is for fools
This ain’t idealism
All that it is
A grim realization
I am no revolutionary
Yet I need a revolution
A movement, a cause
I am no martyr
But one way or the other
Death comes to us all
This ain’t a war cry
Yet a multitude will rise
A cause taken up
In unison we will cry out
A desperate people
Crawling out of bondage
Light at the end of the tunnel
This ain’t an ideal
Debated ad-infinitum
All that it is
A Cry for freedom.
With bent torso, fenced horse Corso,
Tows corpulent gent Morse into a Kent forest.
This portly source torments tense Corso to such a contentious extent
That he sends them off course with vehement force to show his discontent.
“Whoa”, vents the incensed Morse
With voice tense and hoarse from onerous discourse.
“Endorse a gentle course,
And dissent from one so dense and coarse.”
With sore torso resentment, Corso forewent his horse-sense and sent
Enormous Morse into a torrential watercourse from Trent.
“You senseless, offensive, violent horse,”
Chorused the tortured, drenched Morse.
Yet, Morse lamented and swore to descent his portly content,
As soon as Corso implements his chores back in Kent.
And to mend his sores
From his hell-bent horse,
Reinvented Morse reinforced his orders
By tensing the cords toward extensive fence borders.
With a consenting snort for repented gent Morse,
The contented horse, relented pretenses and wended a short decent course.
For Sheri's couplet contest
Plentiful the storeroom as I return my kit
Everything an Airman needed for a career
Returned this last day
Air Force veteran is my new name
Retired medically for service injuries
Duty to Queen and Country
Until I could no more
And still it hurts to walk away
Aviation was my life’s passion
Destined to this career
Administrative duties
School, and a new beginning
Training and development consultant
Reinvented myself again
Airman always in my heart, until my life’s end.
© 2014 CM Davidson
Note (for the contest "Beginnings Matter" (Richard Lamoureux):
This first poem was somewhat intimidating, as I had not written in several years (almost two decades) for personal reasons. Deciding to submit this poem was actually quite cathartic (once I finally hit the submit button), as it signified that I had moved beyond what silenced my pen. Not only that, but the content of the poem signified a large portion of my life having come to a close and with closure came reality. That was more intimidating than putting proverbial pen to paper; reality is, once I came to that realization, I felt pretty good about posting this initial poem to "the Soup".
He fought for glory
He fought to kill
Trained in battle
Broken rebuilt will
Once an innocent
Now a master
Following orders
No matter the disaster
Women , children
Clad all in black
Strange lands of sand
No plan of attack
Reinvent reality
Dreams are red
Blood splatters
Too many to count dead
Retreat go back
Set up the board again
Draw another map
Search for a different end
Once so young
Now so grown
Memories of yesterday all gone
but what you are told
Reinvented redesigned
Where did you go?
Life's' journey passed you
What have you to show?
Metals pinned on your chest
Hands raised high
Your a hero now young man
You did not die.
Her chestnut hair, loosened, cascading endlessly,
gone.
Her never-tiring gaze searching the corners of my heart,
gone.
Her smile so radiant it outshone the sun,
gone.
Her words in which she reinvented the world,
no more.
Her beauty outlasted twenty summers and then was
gone.
I never saw them cut her locks,
never saw the light in her starved eyes pale,
never saw her smile retreat,
or heard her fall silent
as her body slowly froze
before they burned her, too,
upon some piled-up pyre.
For I stood by as the black car took her,
At a distance
Safe
Rooted
My love dismissed by egoism