Erecting Poems | Examples

Gods of Men

Gods of Men

Uniquely crafted
with the world in focus 
Altered scripts
broken-off ancients scrolls
Erecting structures  
in a malleable world 
Setting hearts on fire
testing souls with trials
Romancing the sundial 
allotting time, as we
usher in a new era
With each revolving door
usurping gods as men
Selling lives for less

Beloved, how sad you tread into the mist of lost dreams

Beloved, how sad you tread into the mist of lost dreams,
Wandering in the cold blue, befriending the forces that are your foes.
Beloved, how sad, born of magic, a soul crowned with whirlwinds of ecstasy,
Yet you claim your fate is the dark spirit, eternal and ill-fated.
Beloved, how sad, and yet, how human,
To cling to the thinnest hope with all the strength you can muster,
Erecting an altar in memory of shadows, calling it the only one that will matter.
In the flow of your consciousness, you entwine with fleeting phantoms and illusions,
Seeking solace in the crying wind, in the rain that hurts.
But deep within your soul, you know the magic is not lost, just hidden beneath a veil,
In every step through the darkness, there is a ray of light, a corner of ideal.
Beloved, how sad to see only shadows and sharp edges in destiny,
But how human to hope, to believe in the light that secretly beckons you.
Perhaps in this magical sadness lies the answer sought,
For even in the deepest night, you have kept a glimmer of hope.

Remember

Break my heart again and again,
Thoughtless words you speak at me,
What you think I want to hear,
Just proving what you fail to see.
Choices you make, love you take,
Spin the words, my fault you say,
Self-destruction, for whose sake?
In the end we all have to pay.
I gave you all I had to give,
Happiness it did not create,
I can see you, I can understand,
It's you that you hate.
You blame this, you blame that,
Nothing can ease your pain,
Lashing out, erecting walls,
Driving me away, in vein.
I will always cherish the life we had,
The time we spent when you were free,
Something changed, for the bad,
I just wish you could see.
If this is what you truly want,
Consider it done,
Enjoy yourself, find that thing,
Go and have some fun.
All I hope is that you remember,
That last embrace under the midnight sun.

This Place

Shut in this place
In close, closer, the walls move
Waning light  as darkness grows 
Ebbing joy and mounting woes
Claustrophobia erecting and waiving its sullen hand
Continually the mercury drops 
This place is getting colder
A prisoner locked in a cell
The weary heart longs to bail

Out

Precatory eyes long to see outside 
Outside of this place 
Away from the cold, dark, moldy dampness 
Nigh to warmth, radiance, and light 

Out

Out of this place

Enjoy Life

ENJOY   LIFE 

            I keep going on  being strong and optimistic.
             I meet morals melting mind in modesty
            I admit that Life is reflection of a game
            Rare chance to win or fair chance to lose.

            Ready for conflict to confront at each front
            being cool, energetic, or aggressive.
            I approach  running, rippling
            in symmetry or asymmetry
            leaving rhythmic charming patterns.

             I respect ruthless truth, 
                  morals on journey of life,
                          at ease or at strife. 
                  In drama of life I play role
                      of dauntless warrior.
           I keep going on erecting my head.


  04/08/22

'What keeps me going on'

  Contest by Cecelia Hopkins Drewer

Burning Yearning

Burning yearning for connecting
Bubbling in God’s embrace
Bliss pillar in form erecting
Blessings of divine grace

Love in love with God thus
In trust, boards the bliss bus
Going where He takes us

Soul consuming
Burning yearning

15-February-2022
Quietus

The Waves

that is, the irregular wave breaks into parts,
discontinuous liquid mass of uneven foam.
I have these tiny scars on my hands,
but no trouble hearing the cosmos.
I was just looking at the sky,
the lack of a comet.
I cut off another piece of horizon,
erecting conceptual walls like shields,
something to help with the deficiencies, I thought,
a rough plan of mental protection.
this should be colored,
pleasant resorts containing the hits,
but I don't read this world clearly,
the tiny letters are shuffled around the corners,
they whisper among themselves, disperse, regroup.
so what I don't understand attacks me in phalanges,
misshapen group with a thousand edges
small deaths to mount.

New Year Dawning

As we approach a New Year’s dawning
It’s time to reflect on another year passed
What did we achieve in 2021?
Did we accomplish anything that will last?

Can we say the year was, basically, a good one?
We made the most of the time we were given,
Were we prudent about the way we lived?
Or, did we feel like we were perpetually riven?

I hope, in ’22, we can peacefully, come together
And learn to live with our differences,
Sharing the good from all our diverse experiences
Erecting new bridges and seldom building fences.

written December 27, 2021

Never Alone

The dark, darkest night
Oh crescent moonlight 

A trace or slight glimmer 
Divine stars abating all tremors 

A dark night of the soul
Travailing darkness new and old

Singlely erecting from nothingness 
Now, standing in divine abundance 

Oh, beautiful bennu lifting its wings
From lowly ashes up, and up the bird sings

Super soul path sailing
Oh divine light, no more wailing

Lonely might be the lot
But alone, not alone, not

Cellphone Monologue

Cellphone monologue

I’ve been driving, you know the road is no highway,
how taxing, skirting potholes, cajoling the new jalopy
will be there for a candle lit supper, come what may.
Out of the glare, jacarandas form a fragrant canopy
into the glow of passion driving down Love Boulevard
Oh my, your texts been erecting toll gates between us!
I need money to get through to you, road is barred.
Do you honestly believe I deserve to be treated thus?
Sometimes a man has to make do with his love ration.
But the once-sweet ferments, then love loses a mate
when the woman darts in and out for material fashion
though she knows full well her lover is no Bill Gates.
Hard to believe we used to be such a rhyming couple
my said inadequacy has made me reel under the rubble.

Why and What For Poetry

Poetry is not for
           erecting the concrete of the world,
           but to realize the abstract ...
          It’s not making material,
          but densification of the ethereal ...
          Poetry is elegy for a
          dead feeling,
          or consecration of
          living
          thinking..
          Poetry does not come
           from common place,
          comes from the bowels
           of Dreams... !
           And you poet that of hers
           if it serves ... what  do you come for?
           To hunt laurels
           or to sow
           raptures in this
              life... !?

Redefine the Fires

I fear Hatred has deepened 
the thickets surrounding us, 
erecting thorns where there 
should be blooms. 

I fear that we have defined fire
as the Condemnation of Chaos
rather than believing in the heat
of its pure, creative essences. 

If there are fires to be spread,
may we be scorched with Love.

The Forest We Planted

The forest we planted 
	
In the flatland of western Norway 
where the wind has no hesitation rolling sheep into a woolly ball
horses turned their rump to the wind hung their heads

Refusing to plough, something had to be done.
Trees were planted and to our surprise survived but crooked and 
strong because the soil was fertile.

When the trees grew strong the shielded fields, the land was plough-able 
again and no chicken was carried away by the wind 
except for ducklings but as we know, they are brainless.

People began erecting small cabins in the woods it was not legal
but the moist hands of the law lived in the towns, and there was a beach
nearby so white it blinded you.

When the law, awoke from the task of checking driving licenses,
they came but could do little except given the cabins a permit which was a bonus for the middle -classes who bought the cottages.

Got permission to build them more significant with white painted fences property
is essential, and gates were set up, no authorized people here,
this proves that money takes preference.

The Fate of Schools

I feel for those with power
To decide the fate of schools
For people are divided
And there are no prior rules.

How safe are classes held indoors
Where germs just love to lurk?
And if they’re only part-time,
What of parents who must work?

Will everybody wash hands well
And wear a proper mask?
Will those who don’t cooperate
Be taken thus to task?

For those who choose the option
To have learning be remote,
What happens to the children
Who, alone, can’t stay afloat?

There’s talk of filters for the air
Or rooms with special vents,
Of kids in pods or possibly
Erecting outdoor tents.

How hard to be the ones in charge
For they will bear the wrath
Of critics, even though right now
There’s no one perfect path.

Mind's Eye

not admiring her
from afar for she
was just across
the table but
i was able

to see her hair
bounce off her
shoulders and
follow her low
cut neckline

taking my time
while letting my
eyes travel down
cleavageland
with more

bounce but though
with sweat on my 
brow her dessert
ful pezones must
have caught

a chill yet on my side
of our tablecloth lake
i was erecting a tent
until she said
you're not

using your
internal mono
logue i've
heard every
word you've

just
said

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