Best Sunders Poems
sun’s heat sunders sand
clustered lanced leaves green hug
widow’s tears collapse
Widow’s Tears is the common name for Commelina erecta var. angustifolia, they bloom on
Texas beaches in sand or clay, and have the characteristic of flowering early in the morning
and fading by noon. The bloom in all seasons but I chose spring to be more commonly
approachable. [1]
[1] Wildflowers and Other Plants of Texas Beaches and Islands, Alfred Richardson
War
despised, feared
conquers, kills, sunders
people, countries, fragmented, torn
Hate
Peace
desired, embraced
liberates, nurtures, unites
people, countries, together, whole
Love
© Sandra M. Haight 2014
All Rights Reserved
~2nd Place~
Contest: Cinquain
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Meta
Modern Cinquain - Word Count: 1-2-3-4-1
Judged 01/01/2015
sometimes the snow falls in sheets of white,
a blanket of excited kisses, playful -
fleeting
dampening your thoughts
racing your heart
and sometimes, the snow
falling in sheets of white
brings waves of brittle stings, sharp reminders
memories in the ice that bite
sinking your heart, making it cower -
you shiver
your lips quiver but it's not the cold
not the journey through the snow,
it's hunching your shoulders
bowing your head low
lifting a weighted foot, bringing it crashing down -
the snow bites at your lips
dapples your cheeks with tears
making you close your eyes,
bow your head to your chest, and slave through sinking steps
and always,
the last wave comes and falls,
and around your knees, like a rugged embrace
lies yesterday's shower
and as the sun rises
that soft pit of tingling kisses and prickling bites wavers under the needs of a new day
and this caked ground quavers and sunders
flows away, leaving you damp and shivering once again,
so you lift unfettered foot, send it forth onto cleared paths
and march into the warmth of a new day
and the dampness on your clothes is no match
the dampness in your bones just a scratch;
but for the dampness in your chest
the sinking of your heart....
as head holds high and shoulders lift
chest is pumped to the heats caress
so comes the healing of the sun, to mend the damage of your plight.
When words no longer work
wonder
wish
want
When words won’t come
compensate
contrive
When my voice breaks
snaps
sunders
strains
When I want to talk
touch
tenderly
towards
But you are not able
about
abandoned
absent
You are no longer
listening
live
longing
When I need to find a meaning
In the shape
form
structure
But I ‘m stranded
Stuck
Sucked under
Swallowed
Then I reach out to you
I want your touch
tenderness
tranquillity
temerity
Sometimes words don’t seem enough
endless
empty
emotive
ejaculatory
Yet words can console
conjure
quilt
charm
captivate
cover.
Stretch out your hand
across the emptiness
and touch me with your fingers
friendship
faithfulness
forgiveness
frailty
fever
touch my heart with words
and I will hope
expect
await
be grateful
grave
garbed in joy
When words don’t feel enough
When all we want is touch
Or to see
sigh
sob
sing
Words can be shaped
changed
contorted
controlled
challenged
Words are all we have
To make us love
To make us live
To make us alive
To make us sing
To make us stand up
To console,words may be#
Juat
Enough
we started together,
you and i.
we grew as we
wandered this earth,
the smell of soil permeated our senses.
we stayed so close
our roots began to bond,
the origin of our creation
became a union, an abomination.
given the choice
between their doctrines,
and their children,
they chose the scripture.
instructions
on how to raise
saplings and sinners like us.
over time,
our roots were separated
into divisions.
they hoped
that the sunders
would prevent our sins.
as if grafting our stems
in new locations
would be a solvent.
but we are of a long line,
an adaptive family tree,
not connected by dna
but a community nonetheless.
we learned from our lineage
to forge our own paths
unafraid of the trek ahead.
despite the watering,
the spillage onto our new leaves as
an attempt to squander our strength,
we persevere.
but this drowning
continues
and digs
us
deeper
into
the
ground.
soon,
we're
six
feet
below
surface.
the leaves and the buds
have erroded,
diminished
into a future fertility
for the sediment.
their attempt
to drown us out
with a downpour
has succeeded,
the moisture turned to rot.
but my dear,
no matter where you
may rest now,
i know that in the end,
our bones will be laid the same,
and our remains will one day
grow again to full bloom.
Funny, every thing seems so distance.
When I walked toward the entrance.
Just what is happening here?
Nothing seems as it is, not even clear.
My mind going dizzy.
I feel so slow and so busy.
Talking makes it better so I did that all day.
Cooking the same way.
I felt so strained fully of different ideas, I think it's okay.
My body is not working it does not want to obey.
Shaking all over my body seems stressed.
I believe it needs to be addressed.
Just what is happening here?
Nothing seems as it is, not even clear.
My mouth seems dry.
I feel like I could cry.
The feeling of loneliness is making me ache.
Cooking again, so, it will be a cake.
I have been away so many years.
Doing things that I wanted, but it comes to this I have so much tears.
The fond memories of laughter.
Comes long ago, past tense, after.
Just what is happening here?
Nothing seems as it is, not even clear.
A walk that quickly disappeared.
A dream that suddenly just appeared.
I long last saw the light.
It just was burning with such delight.
A awakening that was lost years ago.
It really was a reminder so.
I raised my arms with gladness.
With beautiful sadness.
Just what is happening here?
Nothing seems as it is, not even clear.
The door opens with loud noise I hear.
The smell of coffee and laughter in my ear.
Walking through the door a passage way of time.
A free feeling that never felt so sublime.
Love and fear all at once just sunders me to smile.
The time I spent with my family felt that I could stay a while.
The feeling of love and hope is so pure.
This time with family is I think the cure.
Our impulses does civilisation set out to control
Regulation rules.
Let slip society's commandments
And the feral runs riot.
Between the rational and the visceral
There is a constant struggle
Identified so starkly in The Heart Of Darkness
Where unmoored from the diktats of custom
Kurtz his moral compass loses.
This same lesson does Lord Of The Flies
Try to inculcate
And the horrors of tribalism
Does indicate
With sadistic cruelty
Buttressed by the strength of power
Today the internet with all its temptations
Anonymity,images of perversion
And the hubris of the individual
The shackles of constraint sunders
To drive the individual
To explore
The dark side of human nature.
It is a deeper belief
That within one must reside
A bulwark to throw up
Against the rising tide
To hold back
The wrecking waves
Imperilling
What the Good Lord set out to save.
The gaps between the universe’s intrigue.
Did the heart of all hearts falter,
did the pulse in the neck
of existence die?
One universe - a tittle of bright sand
among untold other,
and in-between
that blank deep dark.
If time is a traveler then the gap,
the dead space, that fathomless
cistern that all light drains into,
is indeed a well of nothingness
that sunders one cosmos from another.
Zoological parks thrive
billions of years apart.
In all living places
God is not mocked…but
that gap between them where no light lives,
that void no eye can open within -
that is the utter separation.
God alone knows
that infinite space between dreams
where all there is and ever will be
are held in empty abeyance,
a death-door where just perhaps,
one speck of hope still flickers.
Hollow eyes
Sagging skin
Wounds undressed
Ashes strewn about
his feet
A tremor
sunders his lips
Time twirls slowly,
when tragedy sunders
antiquated wings—
maimed and eroded, becoming
featherless angels,
ferociously combatant,
sparring to win,
wandering in vacant division,
while penetrating the walls
of our wildering downfalls.
Finding clemency in the
glimmer of our healing ambience,
realigning the quills of our love,
with every breath and pace across
idyllic esplanades, soaring above
catacombs of lawless perdition,
remedying grievances, while
reveling in the haven of
rhapsodic euphoria amidst
lingering plumes,
diffusing eternal tales of our
blissful hereafter.