Best Wakening Poems
The world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake malleable, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations’ unseen to the denizens of land, disregarded in man’s wake.
From the diatom, to the whale, from the single cell to the open hand
from the sun, to the stars, to the mushroom bomb, we’ve light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light,
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, as throngs rise asking for hand
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood has ended, the tell-tale snake does wake.
Death’s rattle will subside, as the head eats the tail of depression.
Communication will become the global antidepressant.
Natives in aboriginal huts and Inuit in igloos will see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide for hand in hand, each cell wakes.
No longer can knowledge be withheld. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the tit will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, the tyrant and the saint juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant communication, shall scrape the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of finger tip to key shall depress
and ignorance will flee, freeing the hungry
for the way out ,the way up, the key, light-heartedly
heads bowed in prayer, we shall revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of rods depressed
rods magnetized and charged with lightening
for we all hunger.
Each evolution a revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
The Wakening World
A new world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations unseen to the denizens of land, left in man’s wake.
From diatom, to whale, from single cell, to open hand
from sun, to star, to mushroom bomb, we have light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution;
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, throngs rise asking for hand-
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood ends as the predestined ouroboros wakes.
Death’s rattle subsides, as head eats the tail of depression.
Communication becomes the global antidepressant.
Aborigines in Australian huts and Inuit in igloos see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide, for hand in hand, cells wake.
No longer can knowledge be held. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the breast will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, tyrant and saint will be juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant contact scrapes the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of fingertip to keyboard or keypad depressed
sends ignorance fleeing, freeing the knowledge hungry;
showing the way out, the way up, the key. Light-heartedly
heads bow in prayer, the we will rock you will revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of nuclear rods depressed,
rods magnetized or charged with lightening
will energize the populous for we all hunger.
Evolution brings revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
In life I, alone and
untroubled, sought
company and solace,
in equal proportions.
The more I found,
the greater the want.
Impetuosity replaced caution.
Mistakes were many,
successes so seldom.
The thrill of the game
became all important.
Rush headlong further
toward disappointment
Ignoring well intended advice
Now, intent faded,
resentment settles,
as a storm. I dream,
I recall friendly days,
and need my Love to keep me warm
Objects in the foreground, images are unclear
Nature in slumber, dreams have filled in,
All creatures are asleep, night moves out
Scanning the vista, life will soon begin
New day has begun, night slept well
Shades to open, nature responds to light
Suspended state of awareness, dreams won’t last
Night illusions past, silhouettes fade from sight.
Nature coming into view, recognition over time
Moon’s glow narrows, sunlight begins to spread
Sounds erupt in response, tiny ones stir
Nature still yawns, taking forty winks instead.
Elapsed time passes by, night slept still
Valleys begin awakening, sun light striking through
Glimpses of tree tops, changing winds swept
Trees are stretching, leaves dripping from dew.
No bell to arouse, no alarm set
Coming of awakening, natural calling of creations
Distant sounds of loons, turtles dunk underwater
Senses give rise, slight movement of expectations.
Queen Anne’s lace towering, golden rod thriving
Mallards are nestled, beaver’s home built sound,
Swamp grass is waving, water flowing through
Sun rays heighten, morning glories are found.
Trees stretch their arms, birds take notice
Blue jay calling, repertoire’s rehearsal to start
Music in the air, fancied by tweeter
Mr. Mrs. Cardinal, now close at heart.
As the night suspends, the day unleashes
Festivities will ignite, till shining stars light
From this day forth, I now rest
Thus my gifts, are there in sight.
she felt her body go limp
her head was down
her hair flowing toward ground zero
but did she wake up?
no. this was not what the gruemeister had in mind
and he was in charge of her
for it was Halloween night
the eve of the Day of the Dead
he was here to enter her dreams
manipulate her feelings
terrorize her in the ways of the old ones
ancient being, dark with rage, was the gruemeister
he reveled in knowing she would feel terror
when he decided to waken her to her predicament
nightmares would follow her for many months
maybe years, and this delighted his evil heart
he heard a baby cry which angered him greatly
if she woke up now, he could no longer anticipate her horror
he went to the crib to shush the baby
In wakening grooves
When you try and control it
All falls apart
When you forfeit control
All is bliss
In wakening grooves
Do what you love
Dew it as often as possible
In wakening grooves.
Imagine wakening up and not a single sound to be heard
No chirping of birds, beautiful visions now become blurred
Imagine wakening up to find all the colours have gone
Then you start to wonder did you hear them sing their songs
Imagine wakening up not knowing who are all around
The closing in of the abyss consuming your common ground
Imagine wakening up into a world you just don't understand
Strolling down what you think are memories, ashen grey and bland
Imagine wakening up, and having to see through my eyes
You are looking into my heart the day before you arrived
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