Cyclical Poems - Poems about Cyclical

The pushing pelvis, the slippery and new - minus recall. Amnesia drone coming or going home, cyclic rebirth, peddling hard to uncertainty. Dozy or bright dynamo light self-made doomed to fade uphill and over pushing through toward an ill-defined 'it.' A lifelong nap, a newborn holler into the latex catcher's mitt. Headlong life buzz. Squeezing through forgetfulness. Born again into the holy whirlpool, of - what to do next, eat, crap, join something. Leap or roll through the big...

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II. Nature's Cyclical Dance End is not death. Changing into something new is good. A leaf falls, then goes back into the dark soil. Next year's flowers sleep under winter's quiet. We fear the end, but nature shows us it's not bad. Death is a new start. My Anishinaabe mentor Little Deer laughed at my wide eyes. That first forest walk, as...

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there’s a problem with faith. Yes, I’ve seen mothers with interlaced fingers & optimistic minds will god into sick children. Faith firm as cinderblocks, building retaining walls against floods of adversity. Yet, I’ve seen fathers with frayed hair & sweat-stained shirts fall broken, like bone china to the weight of brackish, ebon water. The duality of faith, cinderblock strong, tea cup thin leaves me with more questions than answers. So I’ve...

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Spring as the first rays fall on frozen ground The dew glistening in the early morning sun And below ground the green curl begins As heat from the astronomers source Penetrates the distant land The budding fern begins her journey Long fallen autumnal foliage Settled over winter under snow Degraded now, brings new life Nurture the ground, replenishing Restoring natures balance to the soil For new...

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In this the third Week of April I loofahed from top to my toe Every inch of my scaly magnificence bidding the lost parts go Always loving a monday, A first,ground zero A change Whether August or May Or dawn of new day I eagerly sought to know To be at the pop that starts a new race On clean untrod virgin snow What I sorely lacked Was conviction In...

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Hitting all the highs then the lows thinking it will stop, on it goes like a river, life just flows water falling, break my bones. I suppose I must keep swimming, though the lights just keep on dimming, joy and laughter keeps me winning, till the next day finds me sinning. I finishes with distractions, reality of life providing satisfaction, loved ones keeping me soul...

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Happy children with masks parade house to house, Sneaking and creeping in way of a mouse. Wearing cheesy cat ears; one a rhinestone crown. There goes a princess in a glowing evening gown. Superhero with invisibility cloak, power of flying. Hershey bars next door? You’d better not be lying! Blurry harvest moon shines with her best light. Why does it always...

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The Well The Watcher watches all the watchers, for the Watcher knows That what the watchers are watching, is something to behold. But what are they watching? The Watcher can’t tell. For it appears to be only a plain looking well. The Watcher asks and pleads for the watchers to state, Why they are watching this plain looking well and what...

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Dorrie Ann left Herman again. It happens on a cyclical schedule. October, January, April and July. A quad-yearly thing. We cousins take her in. Knowing in a day or two Herman will show up. Sweet, with candies and maybe flowers. He will sweet talk her back home because he is tired of frozen food. Dorrie Ann could be annoying after the second day but none...

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The wind waits for no man, Nor tarries on steps of his fortune. The tax man equates his ledger, Ever wary of time that brings him none. Great cities multiply and refuse to listen, As pushcarts, filled with hubris, Paint the sky with longlived hope for change. There, above the laws written by man, Unicorns, resplendant in ivory coats, Wait patiently for seasons to...

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Dawn drinks daylight. Sunshine spreads supremely. Briskly brightens bays and beaches. Restless readers reclined rise up. Freshness flashes fair faces. Wildlife awakens watches. Life loves lusciously. Man makes much merriment. Responsibility reckons…repeatedly. Continuity continues its cyclical connection. © November 14, 2011 Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen...

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where one fist is thrown another will see the knuckles displayed & with each connection the rage from one primate to the next comes spiraling downward--- there is a visceral reaction that brings the onlooker back & if they are not sufficiently distracted, the cycle turns in motion like a perpetual machine wherein the verbal fight in the workplace becomes steam...

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As unforgiving nature may appear sometimes, autumn leaves return... *...

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Here in the heavy depths of insolent woes, We gesture and talk and waste our time, Staking claim to each minute of our earthly life, Running the hours through a clock by the day, Never sated, not content to find even love, Buried deep inside the petals of a perfect rose. So was a metaphor created from the rose, Then plagiarized...

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Unequivocal Divinity, eyes-shut Spring Weathers winters’ all!...

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