Best Rejoined Poems
Before birth
I was the universe
All knowing, all embracing
Molecules of beauty in floating meditations
I was everywhere
Then............
The darkness.........
The womb.......
I begot limbs and flesh
Imprisoned inside this human frailty
I was freed, exposed, pushed, fallen into humanity
Lights, voices, sins, I screamed
They cut off my only bond to the universe
Here, a baby an orphan of the heavens
Imprisoned upon the imperfections of human realms
Hell.................
The holy book of sins...........
The great sadness.........
I miss the cosmic beauty
Stuck here, the devils collection of earthly kin
Days... weeks.....decades…. despair......
I plotted and planned
The great escape
From this finite boxed in land
I begged the infinite, and danced with infinity
The universe waltzed
I twirled with insightful delight
Soon, to be rejoined with eternal light
To be free, to roam the stars
My death, now rejoined with the heavens and all of thee
You visit, candles and crocus upon Parisian stone
I am neither there or even here any more
I have become what I once was, healed and whole
All knowing, all embracing
I am God, the universe once more
I watch the rain flow backwards,
back up into the sky.
I was soaking wet
and now I am dry
All the moisture is gone,
sucked up from the ground.
Reversing rain,
it makes no sound.
The flowers cry,
tears joining the rain
As the moisture is lost,
do the flowers feel pain?
Their colors exhaled,
only dust remains.
The trees look angry,
gnarled branches are bare.
Colorful foliage no longer there
Leaves like breath,
have blown away.
The birds have left,
no reason to stay.
The world we know,
reaches it's end.
Back to the sky,
life's blood ascends!
With each droplet,
we make amends.
Back to dust,
we do descend
Our crimes are many,
the earth cries out for blood.
We become part of,
a different kind of flood.
Now rejoined to the earth,
us foolish men of mud.
Questions answered,
as we rise from the dead.
The Earth is restored,
by rivers of red.
Fountain of life,
no more need for rain.
True Joy makes way,
ending human pain
Blessed are the forgiven,
God mercifully reigns!
Waking in a garden,
within a city of light.
We are clothed in garments,
of brilliant white.
Sins now forgotten,
like dust blown away.
Night and darkness,
replaced by this new day
Gifted new bodies,
we're no longer just clay.
God's promises are kept
He has the final say!
Now is love’s rift rejoined by your return
And my loss at your leaving now undone.
Your name is joy, and joy from sorrow turned
And the time of your loss its season run.
Now is this night become awakened day
And this new Summer’s warmth a healing balm,
Soothing bleak parting’s unwelcome stay
As Winter, banished by this Season’s charm.
My love for you is not by ageing aged,
Nor is it tempered by each Season passed.
But your love regained is loss assuaged
And hope is in future seasons cast.
And the shaded paths of cold reflection
Now made bright by your returned affection.
FLOWER POWER
He broke the rule, shattered it,
left the pieces for all to see.
The hill rolling, tree climbing,
butterfly chasing, game of tag
was over and the race for the
water fountain was on.
He ran with his flock,
suddenly breaking sharply
to the left, slowing to a
two knee landing.
He bent low, rolled onto
his side, did a little snake
dance, then lay motionless.
After several minutes he rose,
corrected his circuitous cycle,
and rejoined the thirsty flock.
Intrigued, I investigated the
cause/effect relationship
of his deviation - A lone dandelion.
It had drawn him in,
he had studied it, touched it,
smelled it, tasted it, spent a
few moments getting to know it.
He remained unfamiliar with the rule
but had gained a familiarity with
the dandelion.
Perhaps he was on to something.
Submitted to Encounters with Flowers – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Anthony Slausen
11/22/2014
Acciaccatura
And filled with stars and the land
A pale gentle hand turned the hourglass
Of my soul
Stalking the alabaster moon
I rejoined once more
Those who follow the dream
Cutting through crests
Time the scythe of a barque
Treads a song of brothers to sisters of paradise
The prow our ship a searching
Arch-ed carrying the whispered will
Of wishings an ambition to our hearts
Pursuing the alchemy of the moon
Leaping from the shoals
A single white rose this beacon to follow
The mariners we of her phantasmal
Blown by the hunger in blood and breath
Drifting in the calm thunder tethered to a single kiss
Full of stars and the land
A pale gentle hand turns the hourglass
Of my soul
The ghost in our throats calling
Seducing answers to the lamplet
Painted faces of splendour in her horizons distant
She softly sings us closer
Passage through the veils
Drawing on this our meandering ark
An endless ribbon of red flows behind
The vein of each passing quest
As this ship awash the glinting semblance of her face
I have chosen like my brothers, my sisters; to be the seafarer
To search her shadow
Pursue the alabaster moon
Her pale gentle hand
Filled with stars and the land
Turns the hourglass of my soul
Isis the light and by Dianna named
Magdalena’s rose of mystery proclaimed
The witchcraft of the feminine
Thus the sail-ed cutter of waves and dreams
Embarked
Billowed on clouds
The diamond sea we gather
Compass point to reflection
The full moon risen alabaster
Her pale gentle hand
Filled with stars and the land
Turned the hourglass of my soul
(Acciaccatura; An ornament note that is one half step or one whole step below a principal
note and is sounded at the same time as the principal note, adding dissonance to a
harmony. a note in a music deliberately played out of key )
Any ~~ old or recent~~ love poem... the most loving poem... you've ever written p.d.
Attraction Fate
The law of attraction, when two worlds embrace,
The soul inter action, you are drawn to this race,
You may not find it, in any old place,
But blunder you will, into sweet interface.
Unplanned, uncalled for collision of stars,
The right n the wrong, don’t defend who you are,
The pull of the tide, the cycle of moon,
The cycle of love, “will it’s“coming here soon,
Fate is your carriage, you can’t dodge the blow,
Winsome and perfect, best flower that grows,
Just let yourself go, other half of the coin,
So fitting together, how love is rejoined, at last….
Reflections on a Wall
From the valley floor
A stone arises,
Straight walls of polished blackness,
In between rolling, grassy knolls
Hidden in their cleft –
Arms open wide,
Welcoming pilgrims
Who in pilgrimage approach
It’s darkened face,
Burdened by their tears
Written on a page,
Wounded hearts, reopened,
In time and from far away
In air that hangs so somber,
Yet so full,
Like incense smoke,
Slowly lifting quiet sobs and farewell words
Into Heaven’s air
Until they meld
To final rest upon
The fragrant floral tributes,
As one clear voice of taps,
Bidding youthful souls
And mourning hearts be one again
Within the granite wellspring bubbling up
Like a flame - eternal as the spirit sighs
That rest within the stone -
Where life reflects back to the living
In a visage blank - a void -
Through the eyes of death
To see in the reflection
A mirror framed by silent tears
When hands held in mourning
Trace the outline of a signature,
Remembering the warmth shared
In first steps
Or love awakening,
Then reach out to touch the name
Etched into the stone
Reviving life,
Holding onto a youthful hand outstretched
For one brief moment rejoined with life -
Two souls touch -
Then pulled away into that space
That all mortal flesh fears
To bid adieu again
Across the finite portal into eternity.
Reflections on the Vietnam Memorial – Washington DC
All That Glass 6-12-26 Nette Onclaud - Stained-Glass Window
Remembered Light is an exhibit of 25 stained glass windows made from the remnants of stained-glass windows destroyed in WWII. These remnants were gathered by a chaplain. Some of the windows were 1,000 years old. One window is a simple musical staff with three notes – glass gathered from a Catholic cathedral, a protestant church and a synagogue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stained-Glass Window
Shrieking bombs left light in shattered shards,
Like bones scattered on cold marble
Where songs of Alpha and Omega
Once reflected vows and grief,
To lie impotent, devoid of their consecration.
Crushed beauty with blind eyes of debris,
Chocking on explosive dust,
Still recalls telling parables
With multi-colored puddles
In splashes of pure hues.
Consecrated hands retrieve bits of rainbows
Spilled like sacredness upon a hill
Memoirs gathered like jeweled fire
Into an unseen crucible
Rejoined into light's prisms.
A stained-glass window sings again
Of cathedral, church and synagogue
Three notes in sapphire, ruby and pearl
Resting on a new staff
In the incense of remembered light.
My Agoraphobia.
In 1983 you came back into my life.
Bringing me nothing, but trouble and strife.
You kept me a prisoner in my own home.
When all I longed for, Was to go out alone.
You caused me pain, you made cry,
I felt so ill, I thought I would die.
From doctor, to doctor, from pillar to post.
Where o where, is the cure I wanted the most?
Where exactly does the answer lie?
Eventually I found it, in a doctor called Di.
She gave me the will to carry on and fight.
I fought so hard, with all of my might.
The shops in the village seemed so very far away.
If only I could go out, just for one single day.
I tried and tried, the tears, the pain,
It was a battle lose or gain,
I gave it everything, yes everything I had.
It wasn’t easy, in fact, it was very bad.
In 1990, after 7 long years,
A lot of heartache, many, many tears,
I was starting to win the battle of getting out the door,
With each day, I was doing more and more,
But there was still so many things that I couldn’t do alone.
Still so many jobs, that had to be done on the phone.
I could now walk to the shops, there and back,
get the groceries, take them home, and unpack,
But I still couldn’t get a bus into town on my own,
only if I had someone to go with, borrowed, on loan.
It took several more years, of heartbreak and pain,
Before I could finally travel alone again.
May 2nd 2000, I jumped on a bus and popped into town,
It was just like my world had been turned upside down.
HERE WAS I FREE AT LAST,
Finally free to forget the past.
So I decided to do something I had never done before.
I started at college part time, each day I couldn’t wait to get out of the door,
To catch my bus, to feel like I had finally rejoined the human race.
Living life at a hectic pace.
Going to college at the age of 53,
Really did do wanders for me.
The computer course was harder than I thought it would be,
but others in the class helped me.
Our tutor was really nice,
Always ready with good advice.
Now I really feel I have turned my life completely around,
With this new freedom I have found.
With a lot of help, from my husband and son,
The battle is over, finally won.
So its goodbye agoraphobia you belong in the past,
Never again will you get me in your grasp.
This is a true poem of my own battle with Agoraphobia, That robbed me of a lot of my life,
Problems many of which are not getting solved
not because I'm not resolved but because I delay
to savor the day, the moon and the season
which is why I'm a non-person under the eye of eternity.
Except for my unpaid bills. And iambic pentameter.
Aaron fails English. Is there summer school?
What an *******! I want to slug him, but also
his teacher, Mr. Fisher, who's probably
a nice guy, just doing his job and raising a family.
Then there's the catheter from my last surgery
I was so sick I thought I was dying. The out of network
pathologist and radiologist have declined my insurance
and charged me to the hilt. Like I had a choice
face up in the emergency room. Facing doom, you don't ask questions.
Now that I've rejoined the living I've got to raise a million bucks
to save organic farms and endangered species I'll never see.
Perhaps none of this matters and chanting's the answer, Buddhist
precepts,
or as Dad would say This too shall pass.
Life is a back and forth game but baseball is zen meditation,
you're in right field, nothing's happening, nothing's gonna happen,
but you can't let your attention wander for one second.
I should clean and oil my trumpet for Saturday's gig
or the valves will stick. And leave early enough
not to get stuck in traffic. Other lives, other quilts.
A guy who takes the subway to a dead metal desk
and the boss who fires him with the cold hard eyes
of one who accepts the rules entirely. Actually
we're fortunate to have rules because otherwise
child soldiers armed with AK-47s would be shooting up
the village and setting fire to our thatched roofs.
Instead, under the rule of law, when snow falls
even old roofs look like problems with proofs.
A young sheep among a flock wandered
And as he looked around he pondered
The grass is much greener over there
I'll go yonder and not even have to share
Looking and thinking the shepherd was turned another way
The young sheep bolted and ran toward the field far away
As he ran, he thought with glee
I'm free I'm free I'm free
Upon reaching the field of green grass
The young sheep began to eat very fast
Without any cares and with unseeing eyes
He didn't notice as a pack of wolves ascended over the rise
As the wolves ran, drawing nearer to their prey
The young sheep looked up and saw them to his dismay
He started to run frantically, looking for the flock
And seeing no one, almost went into a state of shock
Running and looking frantically about
He saw by the fields edge; the woods; and let out a shout
I'll run into the woods, it will be safe
I'll get away from the wolves before it's too late
Without even giving it a second thought
The young sheep entered the woods, not finding the safety he sought
The light grew from bright to dim
He could barely see in front of him
Deeper into the woods he was engulfed into a fog
Then he stumbled and ran into a vast bog
Finally he stopped, barely able to stand
Not realizing he was in quicksand
As he listened for the wolves, he heard them howl
And distantly heard as they growled
Oh foolish sheep whose wandered astray
The bog will have you for it's meal today
A cold chill ran down his spine
As the young sheep tried to run to make up time
But he could not move, the quicksand held him fast
And as he sank, he knew his next breath would be his last
The last thing the sheep heard was the wolves as they laughed
Not even feeling the crook of the shepherd's staff
As he hooked it around the young sheep's neck
And pulled him from death's sandy wreck
With big, loving, and caring hands
The shepherd nourished the sheep to life again
The young sheep rejoined the flock he once had fled
Never forgetting without the shepherd, he would be dead
Abstrusely they spoke about things unknown.
They figured she understood because she responded within knowledge given by the Lord.
Never could she state what was meant.
She countered innately.
She rejoined her past.
Her findings were that someone, other than herself, revamped yesterday.
How does history repeat?
Atrocious is this cruelty.
What went before is not to be.
However, a reality has formed from yesteryear.
The future is a seed, which has matured profusely.
Seething a lost is she who faces a breach in her memory.
Neurological resources are their tool.
The mind willingly enters this superlative institute.
Reconsider what has been done because tomorrow has come.
Reflect to divert to revitalize a city’s self-worth.
___________________________________________
Penned on September 06, 2014!
Enchanted by the beauty of the night,
the wayward breeze of summer’s eve disturbed
emotions of the past. The waxen light
of moon espied, as flames of old reverbed.
A fading love revived on golden sands;
goodbyes, the only words we planned to heed,
were left unsaid as fate rejoined our hands,
and soft lips kissed, in search to sate their need.
Insatiable desires refused to quell
as skin to skin we bathed in salty waves
and loved in time to gentle tidal swell
forever now entwined as passion’s slaves,
though just my dreams beneath the stars above
bore witness to our steamy summer love.
** Steamy Summer Love sonnet
You left me, oh so, long ago
my baby, my only child
before I wanted to let go
you'd said your first good bye.
For you had so much work to do
you needed space to grow,
and surely could not do so
with a fretting mother in tow.
My son you walk beside me now
rejoined, grown up, a man,
trying to explain to me,
you're doing the best you can.
You didn’t mean to cause me pain
such anxiety and fear
all of those small good byes
were just meant to get you here.
The whole world we gave to you
and it took a quite awhile
to see the sights and sounds
around to, wander and compile.
Now, you are searching for a wife
hope one day to have a child,
and as you walk beside me
we ponder your learning style.
How each of us has our own path
which parents can’t walk for them.
How children grow to be men
that’s what good byes were for then.
Contest: The Second Hand Emotion
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
*Love of a child....emotions sadness /anxiety
If at first I touched your face
caressed your lips with a luscious kiss
If at first we reminisced
laughed a little dreamed in bliss
If at first I don't resist
will our passion still exist
If at first a new beginning
If at last you are my ending
If at last you choose to win me
If at first poetic love
took us beyond
shattered doors
could we go back and rise above
If at first we embraced
If at last in a deep deep place
would doors close as once before
If at first a new beginning
If at last you are my ending
If at last you choose to win me
If at last we lay amid
hearts joined two joyful souls
will you leave me
If at last I confessed my love
If at last you truly believe
two hearts rejoined are meant to be
If at first a new beginning
If at last you are my ending
If at last you choose to win me
If at last true love reborn
will you come back to me
If at first we didn't succeed
If at last we were free to be
If at first a new beginning
If at last you are my ending
If at last you choose to win me.