Best Revisiting Poems

Luneta, I used to almost venerate you once
but glassy skyscrapers have put you away…
still, I kept the fragrant lawns deep in my bones,
with Muppet tricks and hazy star-gazing.
Although recollections pump on my mind,
you’ve transformed, you’ve changed...
I buried you away till on mellow, rainy days
memories pass...

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I have always felt myself extremely blessed to have found myself a wife
who believes very little is needed to make a happy life.

Before you think she doesn’t mean it, that it’s just idle talk
she has it perched upon our kitchen counter…painted on a rock.

After 25...

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Reading a post by Alfred Vassallo, I have decided to start a discussion on soupers about the ortodoxy of poems. Vassallo complains that the site is boring because comments are not directed to favour the production of better poems.He is right. A soup must be...

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Lovely sight I behold,
fall delight sheathed in gold.

Childhood swing, chosen tree.
Deep-wood path beckons me.

Rough wood fence . . . all of these,
stuff of sweet memories.

Picture 2


August 17, 2021
entered in the In Essence 2 Poetry Contest     Placed 1st
Sponsor: Joseph May

August 28, 2021
Contest...

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sanctuary of my young adulthood
I weep in front of my former home
a student cottage, a secret life
set in a steep hillside it is still beautiful but empty 
and neglected
shake shingles replaced by lincoln log siding
horrible
I walk around and peer into the room where I would...

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Blest to behold Edenic paradise
Marked with grace, perfection never denies
My heart, awe-stricken, keeps on marveling
Wondrous nature wrought by Creator* Wise.

Mountains tower presenting grandeur height
As summits kiss clouds for celestial flight
Firmament lights witness the covenant
To exalt Designer's glorious might.

Flower terraces boast of vibrant blooms
Wafting redolence toward...

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.
Saw.                              A 
   A clip.         ...

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          Revisiting the Lost Swastika
.
                        Build A Temple
     ...

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I couldn’t find my glasses this morning when I got out of my bed…
and as my hands groped around feeling for them…Asia popped into my head.

Asia was a beautiful, blind Autistic student I had many years ago…one I tried desperately to reach…which, thankfully, also left...

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If I sleep tonight
Then tomorrow is mine
My mind whirrs in and whirrs out
Tomorrow could be mine
But for tonight
And the timeslip of melancholy
 
Sitting in various chairs
Contemplating the absence of dreams
Whilst holding in my hands 
Knowledge that perpetual slumber
is a future regret

Snow White, in her glass...

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                       Zen master
                    ...

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It used to be the first thing our grandchildren would do…run and open that closet door
But now when they come for a visit…it’s not the first thing they run to anymore,

It used to be they couldn’t wait…for on that door is shown…
since the last time...

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(John Day Fossil Beds, 2018)

Revisiting The Same Ground

Over and over again
I find myself returning 
to the same thoughts, ideas, histories
but now with years more experience between
and years more depth
behind what were once words
so glibly recited.

Is this how we all learn,
parrots one and all, reciting 
lessons,...

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It was 30 years ago…one year after Grandma died…after we said goodbye…when our son wanted to plant a tree by her grave…at that time the tree was 4 inches high.

I was quite impressed that day with the love and wisdom he displayed,
“I’m going to plant...

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We were visited by a baby
yesterday.

It felt good to bow
into her glittery brown eye level,

To speak of whatever came to mind
which was mostly about her truth
and blossoming beauty

Knowing she would not judge
and would listen
patiently
as long as I might care
to continue our song
of aging story.

Her response,
to...

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