Maybe today, alone I stand
Spoiled by a quiet command;
A concealed teacher underhands
a lesson you cannot let pass.
If what is brought is such a challenge,
and what's sought is comfort, not damage.
Then maybe today, who's abandoned?
If there's a trap, there's cached safe passage.
Maybe tomorrow, the sudden will come to pass.
If ever so, commit yourself to what will last,
And if you need evidence to lay in your hands,
Then maybe yesterday you forgot what you have.
How can you be alone when unto you is cast
challenge after challenge, lessons you can get past?
From whom gives these problems to you?
To whom lulls sweeter swan songs tuned?
Maybe today,
you will remember the more there is to you.
I am the pause in a planet’s breath,
a glitch in the code between birth and death.
I am the whisper in fungal lace,
routing news through forest space.
I’m tectonic gossip, slow and deep,
a quarrel continents keep in sleep.
I am the thought a comet had—
just once, before it went full mad.
I’m birdpath memory, sky-sketched lines,
migration’s rumour through tangled spines.
I’m the echo inside an ancient bone
that never quite learned how to moan.
I’m data lost in glacier code,
truth cached along a mammoth road.
I am not God. I am not Man.
I’m what existed before a plan.
I am what silence tries to say
before it backs itself away.
I am the itch beneath your name—
the part of you you cannot tame.
I remember playing Tag and you were "it".
Eyes that Swallowed Every Smile
Thrown at me Through all the While.
Running, Dancing, Feet above the Ground;
Heaven's Space, filled with Laughters' Sound.
Spilling every Place Between Us,
Filling Up Our Day.
Never Giving Thought to all
The Memories That We Caught.
Or How Our Day Might Play,
Just Being Children, In Our Lovely Way.
Cached Ourselves in Nets of Laughter
Pulled the Strings,
That Made Our Puppets Dance;
Followed Each Our Every Moment After,
Ne'er A Thought to Fate or Chance.
I Remember Playing Tag and I was "it".
Surrounding You in Rosie's Ring.
It Was as Though My Keds Took Wing;
Flew Straight to You Each Time,
With Unknown Meaning
In Our Secret Rhyme.
"Tag", "You're it!"
And You and You.
And All Too Soon, We Grew.
And Soon, Too Soon
We Went Aways
Played Our Games With Other Kids,
But Now, In Grown-up Ways.
But I Remember Just a Bit
Of You,
And, " Tag! You're It "
Sing songs muses muse blueberry pies
Sung blues one day the muse all died
Hail the stars that distance hath grace
Earth star hath turned anew took place
Traverse the constantly cached stars
Beast unburdened braves of past scars
Trident had Kraken divide her in half
Great made small sat back and laughed
Harp corraled midst meshed verged
Luna slumbers sourced piece emerged
Hearken the heralds the angelic sing
Universal timing presence peace bring
Such folly be told of that kind of talk
Can a massive own a minute tick-tock
What meaning exists for the colossal
Infinite stretch from the number zero
*** Poetry Ineffable ***
Today I happened to have come upon
a young woman reading her poetry
in a foreign language that I do not know,
but in her softened, intimate tone
her spoken poem
pulled at my imagination,
and strained forth sympathies,
which her voice stirred in my heart —
her phrases sometimes sounded with hesitation
that could be interpreted as bordering
on a tearful confession
…or a cached tale from her experience
intended to share a precautionary warning
that haunts
through its hushed, gentle telling
all best kept in poetry’s deep well,
in that rising music
of composed syllables, to affect
like jewels lustrous
even in beams of subtle light —
quite understood
beyond the particular
words chosen.
——————————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/2023
Thanks be to God
When you and I were one,
A lifetime of joy cached,
Us dancing neath the sun
With passion unabashed,
Fond filaments finespun,
Golden memories stashed.
1st February 2023
For Line Gauthier's "Bite Size Contest No. 60"
I wandered lone as I did seek
Through silent woods and rustling leaves
Down the hill to the flowing creek
Away from life's stress causing heaves
There I saw a white lovely swan
By magic there appeared a fawn
As the slow running water splashed
Then filled a deeper hole for fish
A place to dream and keep my cached
Where those large fish could jump and whish
A place to write some poetry down
Where depressing thoughts could sink and drown
Where microscopic details thrived
Those threatened plants grow high and wide
In this place they truly survive
This past spring trillium I spied
A host of buckeye 'pon the hill
And wild azaleas gave me thrills
Back up the winding trail to home
Spirit filled, soul rested and still
No need to drift; physically roam
Just let my thoughts of this day fill
In the kitchen in drudgery's grip
From my cup of memories sip
From my thoughts about the work "I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud" by William Wordsworth
Repost of this one.
For Brian
Milky Way dream spots
and other-worlds engaged me
this earthbound urchin
science fiction plots might stir
a pure childhood fantasy
But golden aura
folks can sense that Christmas treat
their pearl orb tot craves
“sight for sore eyes tinsel rapt”
“galaxies galore.” Mum beamed
My peepers wept dams
at magic flight revery
cosmic distance bridged
telescope a nod to star
bright clusters in the heavens
Family ring glow
spark and madcap stellar oomph
cached image-laden
supernova vault’s gem horde
that souvenir I treasure
How many syllables verified
Date posted ; August 27th 2022
NB This work is dedicated to a toy telescope my parents bought me
colored leaves fall down
inside food warmth and laughter
a pause for prayer
it's time squirrels cached walnuts
it's autumn's pretty party
Written on 10/23/2021
For: A THANKSGIVING TANKA Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Erstwhile was my eye blind
To your most pristine shine,
Which best scans eschews
With a graceful guiling sign.
Yet now may my pupil sight
Your wondrous doings espy,
Which men's erudition mock
With wisest strategem high.
Most sterling sense I salute
In your ageless infinite trails,
Which world's charlatan wits
Shame as brazen lying tales.
Invincible light at last I find
Cached in your lasered writ,
Which does all sciences' ink
Render mere deluding crypt.
The Unspoken
Written: by Miracle Man
January 18, 2021
From within a realm where thoughts are cached,
lie things from others of which we don't speak.
In some dark corner with exposure dashed,
They linger until tongue decides to leak.
Our heart, too often, decorates our sleeve,
and we weigh in depth what others might think.
But truth is more than what others believe,
and everyone's armor sports some small chink.
“Good thoughts bear good fruit, bad thoughts bear bad fruit,
and man is his own gardener”.
James Allen
taciturn springs rising
from within the quarry
of deep earth's wisdom
urging lyrical waters to transpose
while held like singing seas of living reveries
of history and infinity
misting to meld with rainfall dreams
Falling like ancient messages
into the orchard of molecular landscapes
drawn to penetrate its legacy
embedded in the rockeries and rills
blanketing the groves of dirt and ferns
teeming in the arcadian oasis
feeding feast or famine
flourishing the solicitude of springtime
in spider spun dreams
of longings in ancient oaks
merging with the ebb of shedding sycamores
in salted seas teeming and exalting
the rhetoric of existence
in musing opaque vapors
mingling into pervasive clouds
bleeding life
cached in the creche
of pastoral beginnings
of everlasting eddies
watering the garden of dreams
April 22, 2020
Rewritten: October 3, 2020
Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsored by John Hamilton
A lass best described as a flirt
Flaunts assets cached under her skirt
But gamblers know
Its all for show
She's afraid of losing her shirt!
It’s hard to imagine a distant time when man was self-sufficient, needing to go hunt for his family’s food. Him against nature. Alone and on a mission. Up north, an inukshuk pointed the way to a good fishing spot or where meat was cached. Its longest arm pointing to the closest village.
solitary~
voice of predecessors
ringing clear
Published in my photo/haibun anthologies ~PRIMITIVE~ 2019 and ~ANCESTRAL VOICES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
On your mulberry canvas
I inscribed my tangerine sun
Cached behind a dark rock
When violet dawn broke
Beneath orchid clouds
Your lilac brushstrokes arose
From steel-blue ocean
As gentle winds tickled
Platinum-hued ripples
I sprinkled orange glow
Where you embossed
Shades of ruby-desire
On pink-rose magenta
Floating on purple fire
In silence we held hands
Celebrating romance
Ablaze in our own aura
That you and I sparked
Holding daybreak in pause
July 25, 2018
NOTE: Sunrise in Marblehead, MA
Placed first in Standard contest #105 by Brian Strand
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