Best Stilling Poems
Today was a good day
Today he walked on legs unbent
And erect spine of a man intent
On stilling the cacaphony of monotony
And smoothing the callouses of convalescence
For today, we both forgot
The wasting rate this cancer's wrought
Today, he teased and squeezed and poked
Fun at his trademark old school jokes
Laughter's remembered warmth evoked
Today he drove his rattling truck
His feet sure on the pedal's pump
And carried boxes of tradebooks and tools
With hands that know weighted control
Today, without a splint or cane
He tamed steps of receding pain
Today, through a briefly calm sea
He is the man he used to be
So today, I can foresee
The luxury
When days like these
Are ordinary.
1/23/21
I am a girl,
Everyone sees it.
I graciously accept the label,
Twirling in a girls spool,
And playing it up for others.
Sometimes I feel an itch,
In a place I can't reach.
There are times when it quells,
When my voice cracks,
And I am somewhere else.
Where my hair is to my neck,
And my voice bellows.
But I am brought back to reality,
Because I am a girl.
He comes out again,
Stilling me when girls are asked to line up,
Twitching when a teacher asks for a 'strong boy',
I hold him back,
A slap on the wrist,
A prisoner in a cell.
But in the deepest of my thoughts,
I am free,
Completely and utterly.
He is with me,
Unchained,
But it ends every morning I wake.
I step out of the shower,
Hair cascading down,
As I stand in front of my reflective captor,
A deep rumbling comes from inside me,
And he bubbles up to the surface,
Itching and scraping at my soul.
I claw at the confines of my chest,
And he bursts out like dynamite,
Sparks flowing,
Tingles of electricity follow my nerves,
And I truly see him,
Staring back at me,
He smiles softly and my eyes open wide,
The words linger on the tip of my tongue,
But they stay rooted in my brain,
As him and I both realize,
I am a boy.
there were moments, times in my life
when I couldn’t pray – all I felt was strife
there were fears, tears, leftovers from grief
so dark and lonely, I couldn’t get any relief
there were sorrows beyond my understanding
night’s shadows, desperations expanding
there were wars within my spirit, fights
forcing me to feel lost, without any rights
there were storms that made me feel lost
when I look back, I still see what it cost
there were so many feelings I couldn’t express
times when my heart’s hope was only a guess
there were thoughts that fed my insecurities
desperation that left me with life’s impurities
there were relationships, oh, I’ve loved so much
wouldn’t it be beautiful to feel a gentle touch?
there were sensitivities that taught me to doubt
when it comes to feelings I often just want out
there were rains, tempests who were so garish
despite it all though – this love would never perish
amid the battles, amongst the cries – the salty tears
there came a voice stilling my worries and fears
it was love that reminded me - He’s always near
whatever I might face, His love is completely sincere
when I don’t know what to do and the pain is deep
I look to my Savior, knowing that my soul He will keep
At times when the night glows so dark
And dawning too rises clouding the arc
Be the street lamp ceaselessly bright
Be the candle with halo of angelic light
When travails of life flood teary eyes
And forlorn hearts pulse in sullen cries
Be the echo of solace from hills divine
Be the hymn of grace tolling in shrine
Where guns of war embroil, stilling time
And lives struggle on impassable climb
Be not the one among callously supine
Be not voice of unsung to meekly resign
Hear homeless-bawl on troubled streets
Feel the discordant wail of hunger beats
Be the day that glistens hope of sunshine
Burn brightly the flame of love genuine
Be a mighty pillar to plight of the weak
Be a luminant purveyor on blight bleak
Be the omnipresent twinkle of stellar sign
Be the eternal glory of ubiquitous shine
April 14, 2021
Writing prompt-shine-poetry contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
High on a hillside,
in the middle
of the marigolds
and the meadowlarks,
I sit, stilling my soul.
my fingers feel God's
cool, green grass.
I press my fingers
down into the soft,
moist earth.
The palm of my hand
starts to throb.
As if I am
touching
the heartbeat
of God.
Oh, mythical fairy, how bashfully you woo me tonight
Attuning love’s lyrics to music of the passionate night
Alluring astral delight, the moon and stars you invite
Dazzling passions emanating from your enticing eyes
Twinkling celestial heights in scintillating smitten skies
Seducing tenor of fiery night, as sparks of love ignite
Inflaming sensuous hearts under opulent moonlight
As the lady of mystique embraces her beloved knight.
Whirling rhythms of my tempo in glamorous dance
My desires you waltz beaming glances of romance
Hypnotizing me brazenly in clutches of exotic stance
Arousing flirtatious entreaties clamoring to conceive
Tantalizing sensibilities yearnings of bosoms weave
In forbidden web of transgressions, longing to unseal
Secrets of fantasy world, titillating your occult zeal,
As essence of love’s enigma surrenders to my appeal.
Savor my dear, elixir of life, before it’s time to depart
Painting portrait of this union on canvas of my heart
Narrating love poetically, reminiscent of Rumi’s glory
Adorning fable-eternal, scripting rhapsodic allegory
Beholden to doting night, unwilling to meet the dawn,
As echoes of our heart-bells endlessly toll on and on
Urging for this dream to live on, stilling reign of time,
Cuddling pleasures divine, satiating fantasies sublime.
September 24, 2020
Placed 2nd: The night of passion and desire poetry contest
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
She floated down into the meadow quietly, silencing the air, by stilling it.
The surrounding oak trees smiled, recognizing her power, not fully
understanding her majesty, but appreciating it and loving her
capableness.
As she twirled her skirt, which barely touched the ground, the earth began
changing from brown to the most marvelous white. Winter threw her hands
in the air, sending icy fluffs of cotton into the atmosphere. They floated down
softly and quietly at first, but as they fell, they got bigger, and wetter, and
they were no longer dainty.
When winter was finished, the landscape had magically transformed from a
dried dead-looking thing to a gorgeous, alive blanket of pure white
beauty, that seemed to be twinkling with diamond crystals.
She smiled. It was time for her nap. She laid down on the meadow, so gently
she did not put a dent in the snow, instead, she waited, for the first footsteps
which would not come until morning.
midnight's
descend clothed me
in darkness,
stilling
the process of
you giving up on us
but
it was useless
when
dawn's ascend
stripped me naked with
a
vengeance
that ache-quaked
my being
it's
no longer there
your...
sugary, salty taste
that clung to my tongue
long after our orgasms sprung
imprints
of your fingertips
were fading fast from my skin
survival
instinct kicked in
summoning daydreams to
pull down my eyelids and project
memorable moments with you
but
souldeep your absence
persistently
abuse my senses
the words,
{{YOU'RE. GONE. FOR. GOOD.}}
beat against
my eardrums resounding thoughts of
your scent, I'll never take in again
or
feel the heat of your kiss
on my lips
each
footstep
taken, led you away
trampling my heart into
an
unrecognizable rhythm
from the way
it used to beat
for only
you
I
feel
the slowing
of your love flow
through my veins and hear the
weakening beeps
I
know
our flat line
is just a matter
of time...
love's death is near
and
I
don't know
rather to let us
rest in peace
or
do my best
and try to resurrect
us.
Craving is an arrow in the heart,
the poison of ignorance;
that spreads its toxins through desire, passion and illwill.
Bound with the bondage of craving,
our minds smitten with suffering
we are bound with the bondage of desire;
with no safety from this vicious cycle.
Beings going through the wandering-on,
headed for birth and death
While those who've abandoned craving,
free themselves and reach the ending of fermentations;
though in the world,
have gone beyond.
Craving is the cause by which breeds stress.
If its root remains undamaged and strong;
A tree,even if cut,
will grow back.
So too,if latent craving
is not rooted out,
suffering returns.
Encircled with craving,
people hop round and around
like a rabbit caught in a snare.
Tied with fetters and bonds
they go on to suffering,
again and again,for long.
For a person
forced on by his thinking,
fierce in his passion;
focused on beauty,
craving grows more.
He's the one
who tightens the bond.
But one who delights
in the stilling of thinking,
always mindful cultivating
a focus on the foul:
He's the one who will make an end,
the one who will cut desire's bond.
When her presence trod the oak-hewn boards,
barefoot on the bees wax, lyrical on the shine,
the cypress calm coughed ruffle of her dress,
soaking slapped applause, her heart raged saturnine.
Thus before the altar of the grand,
when silence fell the expectation soared,
precisely correlated to the bated through,
cut musical astrology with every silver chord.
Carved of the detailed crystal shards of sound,
with fingers dipped in symmetry and fire,
each avalanche crescendo stilling breath,
perfection wrought from ivory and wire.
And as she mourns of marrowbone and men,
coitus with the discipline’s demands,
her metronomic thought has cause to dwell
on what possession haunts her phantom hands.
That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart and made it a hundred times more beautiful. ~ Rumi
A sense of apprehension stills my hand
As I reach out to pluck the lovely rose
Weakening my hunger for its splendor
Resting upon some spot in my home
Where I can delight in it whenever I want
Mysterious melancholy weaves through me
Stilling my yearning and forcing me to see
The beckoning of a new pod surfacing there
Where a faded rose shares its depressed petals
Caressing the heavenly masterpiece of vision
Miracles collide with grace and create serenity
From the master’s hand, sweetest sensations
Of inspiration dancing across the heart and soul
Arousing joys that cure all doubt when I chance
The burst of gladness felt as I finally notice the rose
Music softens my calloused feelings with reminders
Of the many times I’ve felt His hand upon my spirit
Harvesting the gentleness, inspiration and kindness
That lives there, producing sensations of pleasure
Alive where I’ve fed and watered the precious beliefs
Whispers of silence breath through my lively intimacies
Embracing me with sensitivity and sighs of encouragement
Revealing in me the need to heal from my past pains
The grief that hopes to cut through my current painting
Of exhilaration with its knife of disillusionment and disdain
The rose finally rests there on the stem instead of my table
Revealing the wisdom of knowing that it will forever be alive
In the thoughts where it displays itself with grace and hope
Reminding me of the dewdrops, the tender petals, the gentle
Experience of not grasping its beauty while it was most ecstatic
Although I often grasped the thorns in my everyday living
This once I refused to give my desires their utmost attention
And decided to leave the beauty where it could last longest
Allowing life to go on where it was bound to encourage someone
With its rich and vivid caress upon the soul who knows its muse
A scent of panic in the air
The taste of gunfire everywhere
The ground is littered with despair
Heroes' nightmares lit by flares
Tanks burning in the mud
Fallen troops oozing blood
Cries and shouts split the skies
Forlorn pleas to stay good-byes
Years pass, the grass grows long
Battles fade to maudlin songs
Earth returns to timeless glory
Stilling whispers of all things gory
Oh, how we watch a town go by!
Pieces of life
wrapped against the elements,
going somewhere,
always going somewhere.
From this upper window,
my eye is a searchlight,
sweeping the streetscape.
I celebrate my stillness
by remaining still,
stiller,
and stiller still,
holding my breath,
stilling my eyes till they sting.
I will my stillness
to fill me, envelop me,
hold me still from within and without,
a force pushing out and in,
creating an equilibrium for my soul.
And still the life below
scurries, scampers,
scuttles, skitters,
fizzes, bubbles, lives,
the quick and undead,
each destined
to be still one day.
(September 2021)
Jesus is my everything
Joy fills my heart and soul
Enduring peace within
Sweet sense of gentleness
Unending reassurance
Surrendering to His love.
Inner hopes that sustain
Sending up honest prayers
Making me realize my needs
Yet, stilling my worst anxieties
Everlasting faith fills me
Visualizing my dreams
Enlightenment on the inside
Reassures me of promises
Yes! His love sustains me
Taking me to new heights
Healing my fears and failure
Instructing me in wisdom
Newly awakened desires
God creates my paradise
Like the hush of mobile crystals
stilling, inside a breezeless night
Like the echoes of distant stars
shimmying towards the moon
Its like tendrils of gray smoke
wafting through the temples
A silent Buddha contemplating
beneath the Bodhi tree of life
Inner peace can only be realized
through the senses and the chi
You can only hear its splendor
when your sitting on God's knee.