emerging
from a bramble of leaves
blackberry promises
Earth worms form drum circles
rising through new-rinsed mud,
to nurse the soil.
The trees crowd in along the broken trail,
sunlight tries to push through, but mostly fails,
straight trunks spread out and obscure distant gaze,
there’s eyes out there, watching, afraid they’re prey.
Ahead a break grows larger with each step,
cerulean against the forest depth,
the summit rock cresting half of the peak,
this vantage sought by many weary feet.
Red squirrels chitter and dash as I emerge,
I want to shout, but I restrain the urge,
swellings of peaks spread out like tapestries,
their secrets hid beneath the endless trees,
a slash of gray where earth cuts through in stone,
Mother Nature is lost without her bones,
then rips of blue, a ribbon swaggers slow
to wild ponds saved by being remote,
marsh meadows near sometimes reveal a moose,
but today only mallards are in view.
Beyond this lies a scar, a bigger lake,
fringed by cabins and docks, stretching out straight,
above it all vultures fly on the breeze,
their slow circles effortless and lazy,
to think such birds get this view every day…
Who knows if again I will pass this way.
WHAT'S COMFORT?
The way you hold me when the world suppress
the warm touch when the anxiety triggers
pulling me out of the darkness of hollowness
telling me to seek comfort from you.
Being the sun of my dark sky
when I can't find the ray of hope.
The way you clean the food bites around my mouth
while I complain and rant about people who shout.
when you put your head on my shoulder
I inhale the mild sandalwood fragrance that hover.
covering the noise of the world that shatters.
telling me you are what matters.
The morsels of fragments when you leave
I know well it would hurt yet chose the part
reaching the heart horizons when its deep
knowing we would never cross and leap
knowing the uncertainty of conditions
for you my heart still functions.
A biting wind with broken teeth,
has left its blackened stumps
hanging from the limbs
of disrobed trees
A washed-out daylight
seeps gray.
The streets were bareboned,
greenery lusterless and scant.
Too sudden it seems, too
stark the change from
picturesque autumn and this
threadbare canvas.
A walk in the park confirmed,
my eyesight, my picturing
has changed,
today vision reflects a mind
drained of the light of elation.
Time to shake myself like a dog
emerging from darkening waters.
Time to change my climate,
open internal windows
and seek delight.
© 2 days ago
Emerging Path, Hope And Its Bountiful Harvest
From distant hills, seen the veiled valley below
Rolling landscape, covered in star sprinkled snow
Glowing under ravishing rays of midnight moon
Her heart all a flutter, love's spell that month of June
When she thought, would its most cherished touch arrive
Seeding again, her soul, her dreams, her being alive
Heaven above, with its galaxies adorning
How she prayed for an end to her deep mourning
And with trust, she began to again new love feel
Its radiant warmth, its ravenous piercing steel
Emerging path, hope and its sweet bountiful gifts
That caressing hand, ecstasy that so uplifts.
From distant hills, seen the veiled valley below.
Rolling landscape, covered in star sprinkled snow.
And with trust, she began to again new love feel.
Its radiant warmth, its ravenous piercing steel.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-23-2022
Sonnet,
( From Within Bountiful Harvest Of Hope, A Dream Thus Born )
Note:
Verses born upon a too soon waking
Wherein awaits morn's glorious breaking
Into life, its sweet magnificent glow
Birthed from blessings of what true love sows.
summer slowly fades
leaves begin to curl and crisp
fall begins to set
A fertile submission
in a dark nest and
yet it is believed that beings
must be next to each other to touch.
In my hive, he prayed for my nectar.
With a steady hum buzzing through the forest.
I stuck out my tongue, angry that the poems
I imagined on his neck could never be written.
The trees talked,
Screamed when he cut.
My flow: mastered by the whistles
of Gods breath which is something I cannot cut.
Until the posture of my stems burn to accept my strings.
Like an innocent genius, I have rejected his artist,
Trying to speak silence until
we are both united to hear it.
{XM}
I wrote this 2019 in the studio. I wrote this feeling the sense awareness that people around me were always attached to something and this is how the words came out. I really do hope in the future I will have these recorded into a project that connects with you.
____________________________
I remember once
walked into a room
Have you ever felt like everyone
was just talking about you?
I had to remove myself
to find my solitude
Some people are uncomfortable
with themselves
bored with themselves
There`s boredom in their spirits
How can you be the purpose
of creation and not feel it
We breathe breaths that we don`t believe in
I guess true color's come in their seasons
{XM}
Devastation turned to joy
when searchers heard a muffled sound
and found a tiny, frightened boy
beneath the rubble on the ground.
He lay, unhurt, surrounded by
the storm's debris and clinging to
a blanket. He began to cry,
as did the entire rescue crew.
Still holding to that blanket, he
was lifted from the ruins while
nearby his grieving family,
though lying injured, soon would smile.
Like trinkets, trees and home were tossed
throughout the town, but on that day
of miracles, no lives were lost.
They'll rise, rebuild, rejoice, and pray.
October 20, 2020
entered in Craig Cornish's After the Hurricane Contest
Walk over the open desert.
I still remember the clouds, the symbols.
How they rest in their high romance
living to teach the truth until it sinks
into a beautiful nothingness.
Pure minds sustain universes.
The spirit is aesthetic.
No less but more is enough but imagine it
distinct from being.
To be a phase in question and reason to an end.
Trusting a change, watching it love me.
Telling myself to not create with my ego
for the desire to be God is a fake identity.
Feels easier to plagiarise your own soul.
{XM}
Unpublished, 2019
(Dawn Chorus)
It was in Africa
that I learned to sing my love the loudest
and in the dawn of the Chorus,
Black love communicates acoustically.
Even if the day breaks,
it serenades all territories.
Feathered friends in the neighborhood
can only be heard by planting a tree.
He nests on my spots.
Black leaves harvest seeds
and rustling branches
have a deep aesthetic.
Rootly singing...
Sometimes melancholic
with rhythms so pleasant,
living outside a fractured moment.
{XM}
Unpublished, 2019
Date:8 October 2020
The Sunbeams pass
slamming the door to a heartbeat.
A generational rejection
to my face that softens my feet
while I cringe on more notes.
An evolution that has
declined, suppose I curl
my spine towards
an endless beauty
of highly stylized wrinkles.
The more I witness.
the fierceness of my tribe ages.
The angry men that I have raised
as rocks seek my eyes and tribulations.
Take me to a timeless peace.
Dissolving into another,
bridging the breathing has
taught me to harvest better energies
as I pay my daydreams
until we meet.
I have felt unknown shivers
in these streets.
Raising the parenthood
of all these teenage feels but still
he found a way to move into my soul.
i've noticed everytime i go out of state
today, there is no escaping a toll
why are we so casually docile
when it comes to our freedom being stole
we systematically give some stranger
our money just to ride on the road
when did that happen
i suppose long before we lost
actual lyrics in commercial rappin'
we use to be such advance beings
cracking puzzles and breaking the DaVinci code
writing hieroglyphs and manuscripts
like the Dead Sea scrolls
presently under this suffocating ceiling of control
what happened to forming an alliance
coming together like our forefathers
exchanging and sharing thoughts of high science
exemplifying magnificence and reliance
politicking under the sun and moon
grasping why the moth emerges out of the cocoon
Can I describe Love?
A path of the fool,
Words expressing sensation,
Shimmering spark of sun, diamonds on a pool,
Red bird lifts head, water elations,
Thoughts emerge from where?
Whether image, pain, longing desire,
Reality skirts away, with a wide tear,
Smoky haze, warmth to the core, to rising fire,
Wanting to cling on, but desire begins scorching,
Need shoots up, a faithful geyser, doesn’t wait,
Holding on, suddenly enchantment, is torching,
Turning over, mind collapses into coma state,
Why beautiful visions, succumb to empty thought,
Power beyond adrenaline, assaults our senses,
Prismatic needs challenge of mind sought,
Then Multifaceted beauty,
delusional images explode over my lenses,
Love emerges, floating, seeping in like a cloud,
Pain quickly gone, never was there, joy unrestraint,
Smiling, loving, laughing aloud,
Ecstasy holds this coma without lament,
Rolling over in my rest,
The cycle repeats all night,
This two sided coin the unceasing test,
Yet a colorful painted sky comforts with first light.
I pray you’re real, I love you.
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