In the alleys of mirrors, reflections stare back with faces I've yet to covet. The cacophony of screams and whispers, a post-coital slack-jawed pause, the aftermath of endless nights and getting lost in vorpal holes of unwritten rules. Where pornographers masquerade as poets, sacrificing Eros on the altar of analysis. I squirm on the auto-da-fé of your ardor, land of disco balls and dementia shops, every step a temptation to drown in this make-believe proposition — lost prostitute histrionics downslope. Where lies persons end of having no escapes— ?
In vacancy lots of mind haste, I find a faze in the scars of my past memories, ghosts of my mistakes, the lingerings of taste and lust. They're the only constant in this toxic haze, the only truth I can hold onto.
Under a dark sky and a glistening half moon
I walk quietly, lest I awaken the sun
As I and the trees silently commune
Melding in the energy of the universal One.
Majestic royal palms that stretch to the sky
Lift my soul up to their heady heights
Catching my breath in a wondrous sigh
Sensing their view of the celestial sights.
From Kamehameha Avenue to Liloa Rise
Comes the fragrance of the plumeria trees
That makes sweet thoughts in my mind arise
From these delicate blossoms that sensually please.
Downslope to O'ahu Avenue
On the corner awaits a dear old friend -
A massive monkeypod with the power to imbue
Its strength and healing it's happy to lend.
I thank the mango trees for their tasty treasures
And delight in the poinciana's flaming orange dance
The awesomeness of trees is beyond all measures
As is their value to the lives they enhance.
I wend my way home to begin my day
With this vision of nature's sanctity.
In my heart it will always be tucked away -
A testament to life's generosity..
Flowing serenity prevails
Refreshing soul with gracious hope*
To offer peace that never fails.
Sweet chime of scenic river hails
Majestic Creator’s endless rope
Securing faith from fear-filled tales.
With melody to soothe heart’s wails
Stream ripples amidst blessings scope
Assuring triumph along trails.
My spirit sets for freedom sails
Vanquishing gloom toward downslope
While trust in God smites doubt-caused ails.
Awed by wondrous rivulet’s sight
I plunge in quietude delight.
*Jeremiah 17:7 Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is.
June 20, 2023
8th place, "A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1227" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/5/2023.
Angel riding a skateboard
downslope on the highest mountain
in God's creation,
wings folded in to increase speed,
approaching the ramp at the end
the heavenly host hold their breath
as the angel reaches light speed
and jumps high enough to land
at Heaven's pearly gate.
Image: Pixabay
I cut back my fig tree last month and my daughter just cut hers.
The drains- one comes out over the property line (lot between our
houses) about mid lot with a pop up on the downslope.
Can't remember the others but they have green pop up outlets,
flush with the ground, that occasionally needed cleaned out.
Does he know about the asparagus patch. They should
be up soon.
On Tue, Mar 23, 2021, 6:01 PM james horn
wrote:
Did you ever cut back your fig trees.
New owner has and really trimmed them back.
The highland Santa Lucias
breach the angled bench of sky and earth
with ancient crests dark in
scrub oak outlines
and vast open slopes.
From that world above
atop the grand and cresting vistas
where once dreams were fetched
in moonlit profiles
from deep slumbers
I must have also dreamt the unmoving
mist as it gathered near
an unnamed summit
drawing to itself weightless fragments
of light and motion.
It was a mist concealing
a spirit speaking the language
of unfathomable contours giving way
to more contours overlapping downslope
and over the last oaken ridge.
Was this a language of my
childhood mind as I sought to
wrangle meaning from this alien
landscape ,so as to make it
my own?
If so, where did I sleep?
how did I enter that magical terrain
how did I know its depth
like I know the
flat of my open hand?
These are the mountains of my dreams
rising in sheltered copses
consorting with a thousand faltering voices
in unison to out-sing
even the sea.
When you find yourself thrashing in deep waters
helpless, unable to fight the waves
look up to an overcast sky breaking to reveal
the surface of the sea gleaming like sequins
know this vision is my love, a window in time.
It is not the shimmer of a distant mirage,
nor a tiny scrap of coral sky clinging to the horizon,
nor seabirds riding with the wind, not moving a wing-
it is the power of my love holding you steady
against some precarious downslope in your life.
I will not allow you to weep, though sad
but look out from the window of your mind,
let go any menace holding you in shackles
as you cling to the side of a precipitous gorge.
In my time and space, hug me close and tight.
I cut myself to know what blood looks like again
I realize that with just one more blow, I'd end the pain
But still I cling to life
Just like it were the only truth
Still I will not die
Completing what I knew
Regardless, life will not allow my mind to stay the same
I left my only love to see what loneliness felt like again
And still I held to hope
Now I let go, I know the pain in me
I'm still in life's downslope
I won't grab hold again
When I woke from a dream, I found that I'd been living one true lie
And so I killed the scream building up inside of me with a knife
And finally I found reality in me
And finally I found I never wanted to be more
Than a door, with a window to the world inside of me
Like a whore, sold my soul just to end the pain, to kill reality
And now I end my life
Adverse to anything apart from me
So now I hold this knife
Closest to my heart:
Inside of me.
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