teeth grind silently
in jaw's prison for sorrows
anger pressed to bone-
forgiveness waits at the gate
suppressed until victory
clenched lips hide the cry
parry what loud eyes don't see
masking every wound-
rage silenced by the anger
etched in muscle, bone, and brow
knuckles white, jaws locked
displays the relentless fight
in hate's epitaph-
yet while clenched, a jaw can't shout
a clenched fist can't grab a sword
the choice lies within—
clench until the fire is spent
or loosen the hold
to free the mouth to declare
the path to revolution
you are a gentle breeze
a cocktail with antifreeze
an approaching sneeze
or a winter storm
three standard deviations from the norm
four sheets to the wind
and I think your rook is pinned
are you a ghostly mist
or a clenched fist?
I know you are a metaphor
I don't know what for
They called him the dosser.
A blessed man with a crooked,
bent and wobbly wishbone of wire,
held tight in clenched fist.
He fossicks spellbound
for water hiding deep below
in the groundwater.
His fingers compel the water
sleeping fifty feet down
to hear his call,
and echo a reply forthwith,
with a signal on the wire tap.
On some hot dry afternoon,
dumb with drought.
If he lets you watch him,
you'll see the wire tremble
ever so slightly,
and swing to one side.
Often he'll backtrack,
reset the grip,
cover the same ground,
to see if the quiver,
and swing repeats.
Then, 'X' marks the spot
for the farmer to dig.
The water diviner knows not why
he has this insight to feel
the presence of water beneath his feet.
It was pure happenstance that
he learned he had the gift when
a true believer gave him a try.
Perchance, you too
may have the diviner's gift.
To conger the wellsprings
of water deep within.
To reveal its
secret whereabouts,
with a wiggle of wire,
held tight in a believer's fist.
Rage is the
phantom pain
of the clenched fist
they tried to make me
Inspired by Leviticus 19:18
Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.
Let go the clenched fist,
the smoldering weight of old wrongs,
for vengeance is a shadow
that dims the light in us all.
See the stranger’s eyes—
they mirror your own quiet hopes,
their heart beats as yours,
a rhythm of shared, fragile dreams.
Love them as you would
cradle your own weary soul,
with patience, with grace,
a warmth that needs no name.
In this act, we rise,
neighbors bound by simple truth:
to love is to live,
and living, we touch the divine.
we are afraid of vulnerability of innocence
so we set up an impregnable fortress
an opaque mind and clenched fist
but if we wish to see God face to face
we need to vaporise becoming a bliss mist
'Twas the night before Christmas, and insomnia befell,
No creature was stirring, but my thoughts are pell-mell.
Would the family squabbles and feuds come with the cheer?
Would I have to drown them out, with too much beer?
The smile and wave diversion has limited worth?
How long can my mirth defray my feeling good dearth?.
I flit like a butterfly, I sting like a bee.
But, my hands can't hit what my eyes can't see.
It's all so jovial, with all folks tongues tied.
Letting slip barbs tongue-in-cheek that lied.
Lips forced into clenched fist clamped smiles.
With forget-me-knots shrouded as wait-a-whiles.
The reindeers were laughing, stopping on the roof,
as I downed another draught of whiskey high-proof.
A hangover is a sure-fire cure to help me cope,
with the downhill slide to the slippery slope.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and I'm awake,
fearing the family feud sparring earthquake.
My mind is churning over past disputes, give-and-take,
and how to avoid ruining the day with a silly mistake.
NOT ON THE LIST
I assumed the mantle of an entitled snob
Pushing toward the bouncer in a tuxedo
Some bruiser of a guy, but it’s just a job
I suspect that he had an unsatisfied libido
Patting down the girls for guns and stuff
But I wonder, why does it affect me so
After a few minutes I had seen enough
I stepped forward with my clenched fist
Hoping after all, that he wasn’t so tough
He smiled that satisfied grin and hissed
Sorry old fellah, you’re not on the list
We're known to
Waste time coveting
Things we can't have.
We mortgage our castles in the air
Pursue illusions, rainbows...
That yield no pot of gold,
As opposed to waiting
For these elusive butterflies
To organically alight on our palm.
In our dogged pursuit,
We recklessly trample upon
Our flower beds, leaving
Bloomed flowers in ruins.
You let be those butterflies
You can't trap...
Inside your clenched fist.
Exercise patience, they'll come
On their own time, if not,
They're not meant to be yours.
Instead, pause and watch them
Float with abandon
Over your manicured garden.
Visually trace them
From flower to flower;
Admire their beauty...
Until they quietly flit
A w a y;
They're visitors
Not meant to be
Caught
Comes a time of unbreaking
what's broken
maybe broken to the point
a thing can't be fixed
ever
forever
severed.
To be sure prayers can find a home
but not when a divine plan's mark
is missed
yet must insist
with clenched fist
I resist.
A simple woodcarver, be
like Mister Geppetto
fend off a life of despair
perhaps with a little help from
a Fairy with Turquoise Hair.
For a creator
nothing causes elation
like its finest creation
seeking salvation.
All may end in ruin
in stringed freedom's destroy
it's never easy
bein' a wooden boy.
Life's call is abrupt
so keep your dukes up.
For you, not for me.
The words I said to myself years ago.
While looking at what seemed like a reflection of myself.
With clenched fist knowing I didn’t ask for any of it.
Running away became a default feeling.
For a long time, I thought of it.
Then the opportunity came.
It was my birthday.
I didn’t have to stay anymore.
I chose to run that day.
Had I stayed,
I would have been continuously robbed of my happiness.
Fleeing from the unpleasantness was the only option for me.
Seeking to walk on a path that seemed tranquil and safe,
But unproductive to everyone around me.
I chose to run,
To find the road to stability.
To rid myself of the enforced pedestal.
To not lose the ‘sense of me’ that was left.
I chose to run.
With the words ‘for you not me’ echoing in my mind.
Had I stayed, I wouldn’t have given myself a chance.
I often wonder if she knows
Which way she goes
Before she starts
The path she charts
And is it really all a front?
Not to be blunt
Putting on airs
Like we should care
But then sometimes, she adds a twist
Like a clenched fist
A bitter kiss
I’d rather miss
----------
A Minute poem: 3 stanzas of 8a/4a/4b/4b, etc., in iambic meter
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/minute-poem-poetic-t
"I wandered lonely as a cloud" - William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a mist,
blissful, aware, yearning to share
but closed hearts waving a clenched fist,
were not souls with whom I could pair,
yet love’s pull was strong, so I sang
hymns in God’s praise, till death’s bell rang.
Death of form passed, I was reborn,
this time around, as a sun ray,
God’s gift of life, that none could scorn,
for which all souls earnestly pray
but there were some, who crouched in fear,
holding yet, dark delusion dear.
Love and light as my attributes,
my form had fully vaporised,
firmly in heaven, were my roots,
doing as was by God advised,
quietly sowing seeds of love,
donning symbol of the peace dove.
Soaring thus at zenith like height,
I saw that God in-dwells each form,
felt by pure hearts as bliss delight,
surrendered to this benign storm.
Void like space, ceasing to resist,
I wandered lonely, as a mist.
19-September-2022
I Wandered Lonely As --- Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
Love says hello, why the clenched fist
Let’s plunge into embrace
The pure of heart do not resist
In-pouring of God’s grace
There’s nothing here but love
With head-heart, hand in glove
Gentle, like a peace dove
Make heart mellow
Love says hello
12-May-2022
Quietus
Love bereft, cold heart and clenched fist
Yes, they walk among us
Oblivious to the bliss mist
Their ghoulish ways nonplus
Give them love and move on
They’ll again be reborn
Hopefully, ego shorn
Nothing left
Love bereft
04-May-2022
Quietus
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