Forested Poems

Roots - For Alex Haley

Pensile clouds of a new Truth loom.
With them are selected versions of
Extinct grief.

Looking through the yellowness of a
Dog’s eyes, this aura of Truth, pervasive,
Sours my palate.

What say the bulletins and tabloids
In their speech potency?

Have they recoiled on the sudden encroachment
Of stale seas
Or have they rolled out drums for Haley’s ROOTS?

Between Kamby Bolongo of watery essence
And the forested, warm plains of Juffure, ROOTS!

And drums fashion themselves out for Kinte,
Who must tap gently the face of the drum
For earthly summons.

From sinuous, valleysome frontiers backward,
We yodel loud,
Fronting bands of ROOTS.

The Dreams of Anemone

 The forested , odorous moonlight
       is bedecked with an unparalleled  dream. 
  It shields the colored, mazy
   track from the fettered,
  chained grass.
The gory river gleaming 
in the miscellaneous mirror.
 the glittering  dreams
sparkle  like  an oracular,
     ,  eventide
 Kissing the ideal,
  heterogeneous rill
I feel an unwavering
felicity.....
The waned brook  shines
like the vanity of earthy
emptiness.


























































































































































































         The forested ,odorous
           moonlight

       causing me an unparalleled dream.
     It shields  the colored , mazy track
    from the fettered, chained grass.
    The gory  river gleaming 
      in the miscellaneous 
          mirror.
      The glittering dreams 
      sparkle  like  the eclectic, 
      oracular eventide

Fire

a   r~a~g~i~n~g  beast that  r~o~a~r~e~d  loud through dry grasslands
e~m~b~l~a~z~o~n~e~d just like sunlight rays in forested  ~s~e~a~s~
   a glowing friend who radiates love's embrace
         a relentless enemy that rides on a wild horse

a beacon of hope that beams brilliant stories
                   for darkness to gleam and for b.r.i.g.h.t.n.e.s.s to awaken
a fierce warrior who pierces the dark night unscathed
yet still consumes the trees whole

in its vastness, water bows
the golden orange-red glove worn by darkness
when sojourning through a borderless furnace
yet b~u~r~n~i~n~g—like blue b.l.a.z.e.s

it still cooks the meals
        that kitchens conjure
              and still b~u~r~n~s grubs to a-s-h-e-s
when eyes s~l~e~e~p and noses go on vacation

we kneel for it to conflagrate better as a friend
than to stir with eyes as s.c.a.r.y as being trapped in a dark tunnel—
but in life's sojourn,
we can't but still welcome its f.i.e.r.y flavors...

When Something Special Happens again, and again

Now for the long flight home feeling lost in present roam
Reliving our past days, weeks, my minds in wanting comb

Her smile, her charm, her look of warm, inviting adorn
We walked, we talked, but we never baulked our future born

Now eight thousand miles from each other, but, just yesterday
We joked, we laughed, we kissed, we cried, our us, in display

No sooner back, our paths grew strong, another flight booked
Her parents I meet, our paster we seek, yea, we're hooked

Forested walks, and more we talked, her family we're graced
Near future plans, to be adorned, two families soon embraced

Rizal statue, countryside, amidst its lush, two hearts beside
Balai Gloria's wish, two blessings futures bliss, we're now allied

Once again, against our grain, Manila bound, our hearts ground
Knowing that soon we'll be as one, soon to share sacred sounds

I'm standing on the external, Ninoy - Manila, waving blind goodbye
She never turned, turnaround, me too, we're too emotional in cry

X

Unrequited Love II

     The splendid, resplendent
           aurora sweeps the inner
                        life.
          I stare at gory , leaden
         clouds , unable to deter
                  them. 
       From causing drops of blood to
       run down  the shrill , deathless
                         desert. 
         A magnificent ,mazy  grove
              is painted with colorful ,
              golden threads.  
          The unassuming , 
              unflinching morn is
            the incarnation of sedate  silence      
         The wrathful , woundless
         creek thrives like
               rapturous hues of
                       serenity.
         What's the  scope of
        :lifeless wretchedness?
         : dreamed embers?
           : unquenchable longing?
             : weeping anemone?
          The oracular , intricate soul
            shields a shaded woodland
              like  a forested daybreak.

Take Time To Read

Human life is so hectic
Very little time to live
Much less try anything new
But there is something you can do
Open a book and start reading
It doesn’t matter what kind
You can read as you listen to music
As you sit in a forested park
Or spend your time in the bath
Where you do it doesn’t matter
Just enjoy the words in front of you
And let them take you wherever
Life will be waiting when you get back
I promise you that

© Poem – IX/II/MMXXV
LRET

IN SAGE TREED INSPIRATION

IN SAGE TREED INSPIRATION

Standing in the forested arena
Beneath one of the multiplicities 
Of the ethnicities of barked sage trees
Reining in the mutual oneness
Of the equanimity of their being,
My spirituality of mind turned its focus
To thoughts of the Crucifixion, Resurrection,
And indeed, the fulfilled glorious Ascension:-

At that moment, it dawned upon me,
The symbolic role that sage trees
Have played in the lives of humanity–
From crosses to branched stages of lynchings–
As living symbolic reminders of life’s tribulations:-

And at that very serene bell ringing moment,
My mind canvassed a profound awareness:
Today’s sage trees stream to us a message
Of faithful resurrection and renewed healing life
As we observe them sojourning nature's seasons
From summer to fall–to winter–and on to spring:-

N.B.: May your mind be likewise canvassed
        And enlighteningly streamed with their
        Profound sage treed inspiration.

Come in to the Coil

     On spewing wave, our departing ride
     Crazed currents crack, an azure slide
     Freedom mingles in sea foam seethe
     Cobra throat coast gulps river relieve
     Estuary entry rests, rushing ruthless 
     Canoe oar dip downtempo soothe us


     Convulsing closing, seen from stern
     To mayhem mouth we shan’t return 
     Silver silt filters salt, lake lap littoral
     Ranges ahead etch graduating blues
     Drift beside reeds, bird pews hymnal 


     Harp strum seraphim strike chords
     Nacreous nematodes writhe towards 
     Tiny sun centre lace tutus feverfew 
     Pirouette pirogue wet on dawn dew 


     Papery apron snapdragon bonnets 
     Bloom ten a stem syllable sonnets
     Cut log capsule covets its heritage

     Forested foothills fix ship wreckage
     Fir hands welcome hung hammock 

     Cosy ocean recoil, mountains titanic 

    

 
         Sixth of November 
            - upstream -

I Miss

I miss: 

Roaming in forested lands with a child 
Walking at least a mile 
Thrills of adventure as to what we will see 
Unwind, relax and just be 

I miss 

Life without so much fatigue 
Being able to fulfill my needs
Then time for a change of pace 
Removing stress indeed 

I miss 

Going shopping being carefree 
On a day when life is plain 
Maybe find a treasure in a book 
Somewhere catch a fast train 

 
I miss 

My youth, life with change, feeling alive 
Being able to write 
Letting it flow from pen with ease 
Then my soul would take flight

Under All The Green Becoming's

This wooded throng of ancient trees,
this green palisade of arboreal memories
bid me dream with them,
as I pass among there overarching spreads.

If a mindful muse, were imagined,
under a green canopy such as these,
from my thoughts, all manner
of myths and legends would flourish,

and none would seem unreal,
but just the natural outgrowth of a wisdom
that these green and forested giants
impart to the roots of being.

Novembers End

A few wet, wind scorched leaves,
are pressed like Victorian mementos
upon the wooden walkway

The trees in this forested park are tattered,
or stand like blackened forked skewers
piercing the stark air.

Autumn fell too far, too soon.
Winter grabbed the sky and quickly froze it.
Now the odd leaf upon the ground
seems abandoned, homeless,
unable now to be anything
but the litter of yesterday.

A good day for wading through
the history of this changing season,
to watch those prematurely gray ghosts
hobbling along a pathway
seeking threadbare sparks of life.

Songs of Nature COS No 9: AABB

Of feet crinkles crispy snaps with your mate,
as the ebbing tides that breaths winter's fate.
Echoes summons a dusty field in white,
closets freed skis and sleds still not quite right.
Few sunflowers escort its mentored sun,
facing their eastward repose position.
Brisk breeze tails a crafted shawl snuggly wrapped,
home, hot cider, lit fire, read book is lapped.
A forested cabin that's well-engaged
coast reservedly entertained assuage
A prominence forestalls in burgundy,
copper, and blonde. Snowflakes smooch tenderly
the fallen perianths. Forgivingly
melts to a smooth touch that norms Autumn's eve.

Nature Calling

Nature has come calling an adventure I truly adore
Time to connect and spend time in the great outdoors
A trip down a forested path birds and animals ready to say hello
A journey into their world is very inviting surely you know
The freshly fallen multi-coloured leaves awake to the sun
A gentle reminder to all of us that autumn has begun
Down by the riverbank, a bear does appear 
He is dining out on salmon proceed with caution no need to fear
Eagles gaze down from high up in the trees
Soon to chose their flight pattern in the gentle breeze
A glorious day so full of sights and sounds
It's time to leave this place and return to town

An Early Fall Day

On a carpeted path I walked alone,
through naked valleys and forested hills.
Though tis only the first day of your birth,
already your breath portends winter’s chill.

While summer still danced to its final tune,
you darkened the sky and dripped frigid rain.
Sprinkling the world with a shiver of change,
preparing the stage for autumn’s refrain.

Your color already bleeds bush and vine,
heralding such a majestic mural.
Dear friend I know you are not nature’s death,
just adornments for winter’s arrival.

Go scatter your colors across the earth,
for you have no sins that you must atone.
Too soon the ravages of winter will,
turn the world to white and my heart to stone.

This Forested Space

Cleared of all voices
This forested space.
Left with one's thoughts, and the peace
Of a holy place.

Each, a plume weighing.
And lightened, doubly
Through what, for the living God
Who's heart, solace grants
Is felt, blows and flows, enchants.
Not inappreciably!

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