Convening Poems

The Blue Moon Rose

Thriving in the sun she sways inside her garden
each time a fragrant wind arrives from the sea
Her lavender blooms fill the earth with pardon 
she bends at will like a tiny bud young and free

She is a rare and beautiful blue moon in my hand  
pulled from the ground she sets my heart aglow 
when I inhale her, ... then I begin to understand 
why she is my favorite rose, why I love her so 

Giving always giving, she is the perfect flower 
loosely scented in my home she is fragrance 
convening with my senses with elongated hour  
this little rose of mine, means love & romance

A Poet's Crush Collaboration

But by grace do I shadow your form
from each darkened night to bright-lit morn.
You're silvery-white in my life's storm
hosting shivery thoughts yet unborn.

Would that my pen divine such meaning,
enflame fiery feelings unbidden
that stun me dumb at their convening.
My emotions revealed, unhidden.

Yet my disguise is opaque it seems.
You cross a transcendental realm –
unspoken vesper in sacral dreams
that never attains its lofty helm.

Someday, I know you will understand
my passionate affection for you -
How my heart bleeds with tender demand,
unformed entanglement to pursue!

My ink is flowing hoping to charm,
My poem an aphrodisiac.
Unwritten rhymes planning to disarm
and attract you to my love lilac.

Though you're beyond my bewitching reach,
I devote this unsung ode to us.
My dear, with unsaid words I beseech -
Let's join our hearts without further fuss.

A Poet's Crush

A POET'S CRUSH - collaboration with Linda Alice Fowler

But by grace do I shadow your form
from each darkened night to bright-lit morn.
You're silvery-white in my life's storm
hosting shivery thoughts yet unborn.

Would that my pen divine such meaning,
enflame fiery feelings unbidden
that stun me dumb at their convening.
My emotions revealed, unhidden.

Yet my disguise is opaque it seems.
You cross a transcendental realm –
unspoken vesper in sacral dreams
that never attains its lofty helm. 

Someday, I know you will understand
my passionate affection for you -
How my heart bleeds with tender demand, 
unformed entanglement to pursue! 

My ink is flowing hoping to charm, 
My poem an aphrodisiac. 
Unwritten rhymes planning to disarm
and attract you to my love lilac. 

Though you're beyond my bewitching reach, 
I devote this unsung ode to us. 
My dear, with unsaid words I beseech -
Let's join our hearts without further fuss.

The Grand Town of Macroom

Along the Muskerry Light Railway
One can watch the flowers bloom
It will not be much longer now
’Til the old town of Macroom

Arriving at the station
Collecting bags from overhead
To depart I am too keen
After all it is just not
The train letting off steam

The cattle mart’s in action
I better not be late
As a deal on a good Dexter cow
In the next lot I await

A good time to grab the paper
And some salted butter too
The Urban District Council is convening
I wonder what they’ll do

Sods of turf are being loaded
On a cart they’ll set their course
Up the dirt road to Clondrohid
The little donkey’s tour-de-force

I ask for the donkey’s name
“Father Peadar,” I am told
“A good writer he must be,” I said
A decision rather bold

To my lodgings, I head forth
Owned by a local businessman
No need to pay ‘till signing out
That sounds like a plan

Dying on the Vine

My idealistic mind dies on the vine
Day after day I worthlessly define
The rightful place for the needle 
The steady decay of idealistic people

Illusions of hope in murky pools rippled 
Visions of idealism effectively crippled
Convening in ceremonious empty vessels
Idealists left as outcasts with notions to wrestle

The vine’s journey is not completely clear 
Strategical route marred with ignorance and fear
They say culture will eat strategy for breakfast 
I’ve experienced nothing more firmly steadfast

The Meaning of the Dance

As we dance the dance of life…as with each new day all the world’s dancers are convening…have you ever wondered what it is…that gives our dance its meaning?

I’ve had the good fortune to dance in many places and although I’ve never been to France…I’m pretty sure the meaning of the dance isn’t found in where I dance.

I’ve danced at different times…different days…different years…and although that does…the dance…enhance it…I’m pretty sure the meaning of the dance isn’t found in when I dance it.

I’ve danced many different kinds of dances…some planned…some merely danced by chance…and I’m pretty sure the meaning of the dance isn’t found in how I dance.

So what is it then?  What gives our dances their meaning as we dance different dances…in different places…through different years….
When we look around at our friends and family…he answer is quite clear…

Yes, finding the meaning of our dance of life need not be shrouded in mystery or myth…
for I believe the meaning of the dance 
can be found 
in who we’re dancing with.

Hope and Healing-

Hope
Hope and healing
 So revealing 
Not concealing
 More than A feeling
 Faith and worth greatest myth 
Less convening 
Hope and healing
 


12/6/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021

Trilling

Oh, it’s thrilling to hear trilling
As I sit out in the shade.
All that tweeting that’s repeating
Is the reason I have stayed.

For I’m betting that the sweating
To which humankind is prone 
Has no meaning to convening
Birds on branches where they’ve flown.

Such sweet twitter as they flitter 
Or sit warbling in trees
Makes me giddy; it’s so pretty
That it puts my mind at ease.

Mary the Fairy Queen Enticing Jerry Elf

Mary the dainty fairy queen
Wearing a pale white veil rarely seen
Trailing after her in meadow dale, light and airy
Floated gently to a brownie’s eyes, name of Jerry.

He admired her smile, the daisies on her head.
The colorful quail leading her down his flower bed.
The north wind agreed to a quick intervene.
Lifting her veil, Jerry saw beauty forever unseen.

In her hazel green eyes, a curious gleam.
Approaching the garden from wild forest stream.
Convening his advisors Perry, Terry and Ned.
Jerry asked permission to snag her and wed.

They caught her entourage without a pail
Her unicorn gave out a tiny wail
Orchestrated fully by that fairy queen
Had the first wedding fairy land had ever seen.

Jerry was smitten. His own idea he thought.
But preening fairy queens are not that easily caught.
She kept her marvelous secrets until her daughter’s courting days
Telling her how to entice the marriageable brownie to stay.

Bio Modified Subconscious Maverick

Subconscious

I dream eat ice cream seam stories and dig deep for meaning

Held by my lover her emotional wisdom and joyful convening

Souls are infinite as minds are essential and bodies transcend

Sadness joy and surprise deep inside are my foe and my friend

I'm afraid of blindness writer's block as well as immobile hands

Wish to stir magic potions fly broomsticks and seek foreign lands

Anarchic Romantic Escapist Utopian Republic of Blueberry Picnic

Maverick

08th April 2020

Unfulfilled

As writers, our life is a book of how seductive our image can assuredly be.
It chronicles how effortless it is, to emerge as seduced off of any significant episode because of the behavior our society is nowadays. 
Should we display a mimicry of that novel chapter? 
A spiritual crisis will monopolize every hypothesis of our scripted lives.
It will transpose it to be fabricated and that all there ever were, was genuine emptiness. 
We will then seize a conclusion in our lives wherever conviction accepts its governance on us.
We shall endure through all that, unearthing ourselves in a crudely lit enclosure, convening at a desk with the spotlight on...
                                                                ...a blank piece of paper.


2019 November 25

Enters My Backdoor, Exits My Frontdoor

Despite its proverbial might, the Glass Ceiling
Couldn’t freeze the dream God wrote on the page
Where my misery and the sad feeling
That in its ribald rage

Strove hard my priceless dream to delete and defeat
Breathing hard on my neck
Snatching from my outstretched hands the succulent sweet 
Destined from my life to break

The jinx
That hitherto kept frustrating my career progress
When its serpent sticks  
Determined to undress

My future
Until God’s hands
By dint of their victorious culture
Smashed to smithereens the brands

Whose furnace fire grew cold
Restoring my dream
With a move so bold
Into my hands God landed my career’s ice cream

Commanding the Glass Ceiling to step aside
Convening and commencing the inauguration ceremony
In which my pride
Flew back and grew strong as though a scripture from Deuteronomy

Installed me on the throne
As a mighty queen
Without any further obstacle in my career zone
Enabling me to reign supreme in a kingdom clean and green.

Out of Time

They'll find silhouettes of souls imprinted there.
  It's a familiar feeling of of despair.
    Like falling back in a chair.

It holds as much weight as words without meaning.
  Figures draped in black start their convening.
    "Rethe si eno vretineening".

Angelic Guides

Divine messengers from Elders past
beget humane muses of culture.

Prophetic win/win messages
perform and engage
redevelop and reconnect
guardian health systems
and wealth networks.

Proactive passionate verbs
pleasing domesticated nouns
together speak co-relational language,
recreating exegesis of re-ligioning life
spread and stretched between
flaming hot love and stone-cold hate.

Creolizing messages shaping defense 
of polycultural adventures
reshaping offense
of too omnipotent monocultures.

Divine words
reweaving boddhisatva co-messiahs
guardians of healthy cooperative virtues,
EarthTribe's re-convening 
naturally discerning spirited kindness,
indigenously wise 
re-ligioning FatherSun
EarthMother root feeling
crown thoughtful 
mind/body fullness.

Transcendent/immanent
enlightened/empowering
messengers to and from our Elder guardians,
trees shaken by breeze,
sapient squirrels chased by bluejay girls,
light shadowed by co-refining night.

Divine FatherSun
re-connecting enlightened messages
re-ligioning EarthMother sage 
co-messianic musicians.

Imaginary Friends

IMAGINARY FRIENDS

Consider reaching up and
placing your hand in the
night sky
or seeing and touching
sound
flying furiously fast…
too high

summiting to
imaginary friends

Envisage palettes of neon
colours spinning out of
control
or eating speech as it
floats
bubbling inspirations
in scroll

convening with
imaginary friends

Imagine dreaming awake
navigating thoughts through
sunrise
or hearing calm embrace
sooth
until the quiet screams
polarise

dismissing all
imaginary friends






© Kim van Breda

• Short Convening Poems
• Famous Convening Poems
• Best Convening Poems
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• Long Convening Poems
• Convening Quotes