Inspiration for this poem was Gwendolyn Brooks "The Bean Eaters."
Stray fox sleeps closely, near this widow’s pies.
Keeping their bond implies sunrise.
Crisp apples with its wisp to meadows peak,
Bees’ clockwise
This pair of unique pals.
That live each day with ease,
Know that it didn’t leave out sounds
Or banging or breeze.
But Harmonizing…
Harmonizing, blues among hearts restrung,
They pick up fragments to piece, fix, bind trinkets lost, lone
Then the two sit down relish with drinks an pie delightful,
Now viewing that sunset.
invisible men see through nakedness ~ they do not need x-ray specs
said the wife to her unfaithful husband ~ she was laid bare on her ex
Look at me
At my green eyes and my blonde hair
I'm beautiful
Aren't I?
Look closer
Look at my face
Revolutionised to your likings
To your expectations
You like blue
So I sealed my green eyes away in a case file
A homicide that will never be solved
A cold case you will forget about
But will always linger on my mind like brain freeze
You like brown
So I drenched my hair in crude oil
And soil from your garden
And coffee from your kitchen
Look closely
That I do
As I watch your head turn away
Your presence fade away
And my blue eyes and brown hair
Remain
Look Closely
Black silk top hat
Upon greasy hair sat
White gloved, quick hands
Graceful gestures, gestures grand
Speaks nonsense but mostly,
"Watch me now, look closely!"
Sly smile, glint in eye
"You sucker", they imply
Swift movements over here
Draw my eyes, my gaze steer
Magic moving fast and ghostly
He continues to croon, "look closely"
The ears hear but not the eyes
"Look closely", magic lies.
Praying
It was just yesterday,
his love was a quiet smile,
embracing the faith, the sigh,
like a heart who can see,
past the ugly in me,
through the expanse of shadows,
pouring over my naked palms,
awakening dreams in a heart,
who is silent,
yet unburdened of doubts,
when will he see…
beneath the worries, the fears,
beyond the softest tears,
where there is a flow, liquid signs,
melting the yesterdays,
as they quietly descend
from the memories bleeding
pouring out darkness,
then grace, then all the light
like his embrace…
wounded by the music,
playing, softly,
in the heart, on the mind,
roaring like an ache in time,
with the stars,
rhythmic, beating,
trembling in gentle beats,
soothing away the past,
as it melts into the shadows…
it was only yesterday,
his love grew quiet, quite silent,
as the heart breathed,
rhythmic words,
healing and hoping,
needless to say, to this day,
he dreams of her,
as the past preys, he prays.
"Double Rictameter"
look close
at what God has
created for humans
the sky, clouds, sun, moon, rain, and snow
the forests, streams, rivers, the oceans, seas
the wild animals, birds, and fish
and our beloved pets
God's gifts to us
look close ...
closely
at all this life
the love of family
love of a lover and friends
look at our beautiful possessions
the food that we eat and joys
and even our grief
look deep within
closely ...
rabbits in tall grass
ducks ducking underwater
deer along tree line
squirrels running up tree
naughty cats in hiding spots
I know where to look
I took the short path,
as many do to get to the beach.
Loving the beach with it's white sand,
a great summertime place for all ages.
I could not wait to see the lovely view,
the early morning blue shimmering water.
Look closely,
the cool clear water is licking my feet.
Is it saying,
glad to see you back to play.
The bright yellow sun is dancing on the water,
as we splash and play along.
The beach days always end too fast,
dreams will do until we can come back again.
Hope-filled, look closely through faith’s eye
To behold God’s glory and grace
Magnificent as you draw nigh
Pursuing as champ in life’s race.
Focusing on eternal bliss
Hope-filled, look closely through faith’s eye
So that what’s vital you won’t miss---
Claiming divine prize, soaring high.
Break free from deceit, don’t deny
While illumined with truth so clear…
Hope-filled, look closely through faith’s eye
Precious virtues sublime, hold dear.
Midst triumph for reaching-out flight
Thankful with prayer-driven sigh
Keep on serving by mercy’s light…
Hope-filled, look* closely through faith’s eye.
Hebrews 12:2*Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
May 19, 2024
Honorable Mention, "Pick-A-Title, Vol 44" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 6/23/2024
Do we not wake up each morn,
refreshed, energised, reborn,
magnetism suffusing form,
touch tender, loving and warm?
Sans thought, soul presence in heart,
feels therein love’s bliss hum start,
divine refrain, free from strain,
boons bestowed, which we ingrain.
Though we’re awake, senses rest
and as nodes jostle in jest,
the sound of one hand clapping
is heard, while we are napping.
With no earthy goals to chase,
stretching time, dissolving space,
connected thus with our soul,
our heart feels at peace and whole.
Choosing to remain as such,
garnering wisdom by touch,
entwined with the universe,
orbs of soul’s light, pen a verse.
LOOK CLOSELY
Step up
into the
field of colour*
be a part
understand me
breathe in
&
dream
fill your eyes
'til
I
enter your
mood
Nothing is as important as being present
In your own life.
But for some,
Life sometimes becomes submerged
Beneath the dark waters of a secret place,
No longer able to remember the past,
Incapable of holding on to the present.
And sometimes,
On a quiet night,
If you listen closely,
You might hear those old imprisoned souls
Screaming in silence
That life is a hell of a thing
To happen to a person.
Author's note: This is for a couple of friends who are struggling with early-onset dementia.
Close up is when you see the cracks,
the lines etched, scratched onto canvas.
An oil painting that survived a fire.
Close up is when you see the ash
loosen, drift away in a breeze. Smoke.
Something once hot white turned to charcoal.
Close up is when you see the riverbeds
dry now from drought, once drenched with desire.
Cargo stuck in the mud of the water we were.
Close up is when you see marrow, the blood
and bone bristling under transparent paper
once pink and once flesh. Once strong. Once marble.
So leave, please. See me blur as those cracks become hazy.
Retire, step back. Zoom out. Fly up with only a dot down here to see.
Take a snapshot out of focus. Forget to develop the memory of me.
There is Christmas mistletoe he thought, not daring to look her way.
His object of affection gave a shy glance that quietly darted away.
The romantics in the congregation held their breath as they watched.
Not this year I guess said grandpa, scratching an itch in his crotch.
I walked on a lonely road
with no one beside me,
and no actual destination in mind.
I walked because I heard a voice --
a voice in the distance,
it sounded so clear,
it sounded so close, yet so far.
"You must find the way" the voice repeated,
"Follow the words" went right after that.
I walked and I walked -- not knowing:
Was this the path?
Were those the words to follow?
But I trusted and I believed in what I kept hearing,
I found that way and followed those true words...
And I am still walking and listening today!
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