Crowded Desk
Room to write.
Writer’s block.
Pen to the paper.
Get to work.
Crowded desk.
Crowded thoughts.
These are your words.
Art to color.
Mind racing.
Document your life.
Be descriptive.
Be true, be different.
Crowded mind.
Take a walk anytime.
Clear the air.
Another poem not written.
Dreams do not resolve,
They only recall, relive, appall, and gall.
They replay the scenes endlessly,
On loop, over and over again,
With the final chapter,
Be it a happy, sad or left-hanging ending - missing.
The cure to the plague of memories,
Requires a journal written down when awake.
Recording a list of infections, inflammations and cankers,
With their reliefs in portents,
potions, hocus pocus, spells and concoctions,
Written down in the stark light of day.
Read and revived, sipped slowly before shut-eye.
Sometimes with a dash of a 'beg to differ' or two.
Or a sprinkle of withdrawal, pulling back to let was, just be,
Pulling the pin, stepping back, sucking in, retreating,
Chin up and jolly rogered to defuse the angst, stem the rot,
To clear the air and begin again,
Coping!
Contest: This or That, Vol 30 – 2-4-25 Sponsor: Edward Ibeh - Title Chosen: Etched in Stone
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Etched in Stone
Two hearts glare at each other
Clutching their stone tablets
Written by the finger of their rightness,
Guarding the secret handshake
In single sighted delinquent tantrums
Refusing to share the offertory
Of a loving cup -
Consumed by daggers of thoughtless words
Carved deeply in a scarred heart.
Floral offerings wilt
Upon stone manifestos
Where ashes of incense lay impotent
To clear the air
And wipe clean the embedded words.
Passion falls in pixels of distortion
Blurring valleys where sacred poles burn –
Lie in dust written in the past –
Paralyzed
Unable to rise from handwritten crypts
Placed in captive marble altars,
Epithets like an epitaph for love.
Immoveable stone resists the transcendent
Until forgiveness’ chisel
Re-writes the script of etched words
Crumbling in swaddled tears of humility
That know their need for grace
Consummated in love’s perfect signature.
Kneel and you will receieve, accepting Jesus is key.' Open
Your heart and clear the air.' Realise He will take away the
Despair.' Accept His Blood call on His Name He of Eternal
Fame.' In fullfiling His Fathers Will; every type of sin He killed.' So now arise to victory..One of His leigions' fully free!
Denied the weight sin..And its rancid seeds, let the
Tree of life' take root within.' Move in prayer and others
Gain.' Spread His teachings' revere His Name the King of
Kings and Lord of lords.' now advance on satan with the
Spirits sword' move in.' And never yeild; hold fast the
(Faithfull sheild) keep salvation in your mind.' He will
Make your breastplate shine.' Tread the Gospel way
In the shoes, He has made; for you will never lose !
With eyes the colour of ocean blue, so calm and clear and deep.
The beauty sits upon your face and forever your beauty will keep.
Hair that goes on forever that twists into a spiral of curls , when you smile your face lights up , like a priceless display of pearls
You are the earth beneath my feet and the clouds above so high.
You are each and every emotion in me , including the tears that I cry.
You are the rainbow in the sky to help me clear the air, Pretty coloured ribbons of red that tie up in your hair
You sing
You skip
You play around , with the joys and sounds of laughter
You'll be loved today
You'll be loved tomorrow, until forever after
Life is like a treasure;
Feel it with pleasure,
Let the bygones be bygones.
Whatever you want to accomplish,
Go the extra mile, just hang in there.
When opportunity knocks,
Don't be in two minds—give it a twirl,
Without the fear of facing the results.
When someone criticizes you,
Don't be up in arms with them.
Instead, step up your game,
And prove yourself.
Sometimes, you may feel left out in the cold,
Without any reason,
And it all seems Greek to you.
But when you're a cut above the rest,
These situations are a dime a dozen—
Take it as easy as pie.
When success isn't yours, bite the bullet,
Hold your horses, clear the air,
Come hell or high water,
Beyond a shadow of a doubt,
You will taste it!
My heart begins to sink
As my skin begins to quiver
I've been swept to the brink
By regrets flowing like a river
So what am I to think
As the cold world let's me shiver
Stains mark like ink
Where pain became a fissure
There's no one else to blame
As my blood begins to simmer
And against this waking shame
No nightmare could be so bitter
So I fold up the remains
Of a story I can't consider
My hallowed soul can't bare
What can't be washed away
Because even in deepest prayer
There's words I just can't say
So if I'll never clear the air
Then I know I just can't stay stay
The bed is wet
My heart's aflame
I cannot forget
What time erased
Memories are set
And the feelings won't drain
So I'll make a bet
Against the rain
One last cigarette
And I'll be unchained
I’m there because she’s there
Though the secret of love
My eyes declare
When they not only watch
But begin to stare
Oh how I wish I could
Clear the air
And show her with which
My heart would swear
Make plain with words
What my soul would bare
Come to terms with my conscious
And make it square
Incurable shyness and
Inexplicit scare
Oh how I wish I could show
My care
And make my wanting
Realy clear
Yet tell her I would not dare
The fear of rejection
Keeps me there
Used to think that happiness
Was contingent upon striving
If only we can obtain ______
Then we’ll really start thriving
Leads us to chasing our tail
Continually stuck in high gear
Yet there's a path to clear the air
To make the grasping disappear
Take stock of what we have now
Notice the pieces are already in place
To invite happiness to our doorstep
If we embrace today and end the chase
V ax
I njured
P ersons
E ffective
R esponse
R egister
I beleive the above is needed.' To clear the air
Just like rain does, it cleans the atemosphere
And exposes the shortcomings of infrastruture
I also see the need for an annual assembley
At rotating host countries to address health
Concerns worldwide also possible advances
That may be identified to human benefit
Over a current and long term time timescale.'
Any panel could include medical proffesionals
Affected by misadministerd medical intervention
I plead poetry reflecting lifes challenges as my
Reason for creating this poetical blueprint
As it were.'
In my lifetime,
I have observed and
witnessed some evil things.
Many were news reports, but
some were eye-witness melees.
One notable travesty was the
implementation of 'A Clearing'.
It was called ethnic cleansing,
but there was absolutely nothing
cleansing about slaughterous murder.
Like so much garbage, being cleared
from our living quarters; one people
claiming to be purer than another.
How despicable of us mortals created
in the image of an awesome and loving God
who through His son said, "There is none good;
no, not one". Clear the air we breathe of poisonous
toxins if you will. Clear the rivers and waterways
of debris and waste. But be very clear about this:
There are multitudes of undesirable things and myriads
of non-mortal despicables in need of mass clearings.
But the clearing out of people by any means deemed
less than another is not one of them. Ethnic cleansing
is mass suicide. Let us love, cherish, and care for one
another and leave human clearings and cleansings to God.
021023PSCtest, 'The Clearing'. Craig Cornish
Air bump an agenda with its weary listlessness of words
Let me be clear, I’ve made it clear, Just to be clear
Air bump the agenda, you’re not getting out of here
with the truth, the whole truth or any part of the truth
Is that clear? I think I’ve made it clear…
Read between the lines…a convolution
and they lead to absolutely nowhere
You can’t draw
a conclusion…it’s an arm wrestle
that you can’t win…let me be clear
Clear the room
before I clear the air
or you’ll
hear the truth
there’s nothing
but the truth
when
you’re out
of
range
1/24/2023
so it is that words fade into actions
voices stilled by beauty’s endless moment
frozen in the midst of warring factions
to melt into a perfume teared lament
sunrise will clear the air of its madness
dust motes dance happily upon its beams
moments pass slowly into memory
memories fade softly into dreams
so it is that love reclaims its passion
separates the words as “wheat from chaff”
using one to reignite the other
together knowing love is but a craft
slow mastered with each brushstroke, word, or note
sharing whispers the Bard would surely quote
John G. Lawless
©11/7/2022
There are tears in her eyes because of him.
He doesn't wipes them because he fears he'll never be good enough for her.
She thinks of her forever companion and weeps while remembering their moments.
The friend of hers can't bring herself to say sorry because she feels like a burden.
He realizes that jealously and competition is ruining his sisters and his priceless bond.
So does the sister, but none tries to clear the air in between.
She sniffs by the window and thinks that her parents don't love her.
On the other side, the parents are being harsh to her to make her ready for the world.
These are the point-of-views of people who lost their loved ones.
If desired, it is quite simple to restore all of these relations.
Talking the matter out can easily fix these fights that arise from nothing.
So, when you're in a fight, remember to consider their point-of-view and decide your actions.
With just a few short strokes, and the ink of a magical pen.
You can clear the air of pollution, or simply be young again.
Memories once made, can be brought back and given life.
Like grandpa whittling wood, with his favorite pocketknife.
A pen can alter time, and let you travel to and fro.
It can tell you fact or fiction, that the reader may never know.
Happiness can be shared, or you can experience someone’s pain.
It can sometimes cause insomnia and even clog a drain.
Your pen can offer solace to a world that’s stricken with grief.
It can lend a unique perspective on a certain personal belief.
It can be the gateway to one’s soul and a release for your imagination.
Maybe it will bring forth nature’s beauty, or just political frustration.
With a pen you can honor family, or that very special friend.
It can provide a little respite, from a pain that has no end.
Each of us can find a reason, for pairing paper and pen.
You can bring Puff out of his cave and make him soar again.
Whatever your heart can envision with the magic you choose to bring.
May your pen stay full of ink and bring more songs that we can sing.
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