Idealized Poems

Global Intifada

(“Creation Myth Merit Badge”, 2016, original oil)

Global Intifada

Everywhere you look today the world is burning
Or is a dried out husk waiting to spark.

It’s a self proclaimed global intifada after all,
Sweeping like a plague across hearts and minds.

But what exactly is this resistance all about anyway?
Inquiring minds want to know.

In a nutshell; change, as the world continues,
As it always has, to spin beyond our control.

The irony being those calling for a revolution
Really just want the world to stop being out of their control.

Stop and go back on track
To some idealized path, to some idealized goal.

While meanwhile the world just continues
To turn and burn in endless creative destruction.

Each of us a bit of tinder to fuel the fires
To temper the steel with which to forge our future.

(6/12/25)

Tuatha de Danann Dreaming

Tuatha de Danann Dreaming

(A lone Irish voice whispers into the night, as a single white candle burns. Looking at a picture of a beautiful woman)

With time-worn

But stubborn like a six-inch
Jerusalem thorn

Dreaming 
Forlorn 
Tonight 

Of Halcyon Nights 
With you, my love

When memories waterwheels slowly turn,
And midnight candles burn 

As my inner film projectors play

I also remember our beloved Halcyon Days, at the coast

Spent walking and laughing 
Before God moved our goal posts

So tonight, I'm praying and yearning for moments 

Only The Tuatha de Danann can invoke

Pulling back 
My true love

Before I choke 
To help me cope

From Hades 
Swirling 
Grey smoke

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

The Tuatha Dé Danann are described as a supernatural race, much like idealized humans, who are immune from ageing and sickness, and who have powers of magic.
Source; Wikipedia.

TOTAL FOCUS ON YOU

with loving vision, focused on you
you are the center of my attention,
the essence of my life!

yes, my dear,
you mean all that!
and much more to
me... you are the illusion I idealized,
the ideal dream I dreamed...

My goal since time immemorial,
since the earliest ages is you!
Per omnia seculorum,
only you!

ICONISTA van dyck

stasis
     covered
veneratons
   pictorially
      preserved
in
allegory
orthodox
& unusual
    idealized
imagery

Hoping an End

Woke up amidst the screaming cries, dared to stare through the window
Eyes couldn't believe a thousand corpses lying, hands couldn't recognize the skulls
The day before a boy told me to hurry, jokingly I said, Why will the place be bombed,
A house filled with joy nobody idealized could grow into ashes,
Defeatedly begging with joined hands to 
feel my mournful belongings, once again 
people were shattered down on their homeland....


Written from the perspective of people who are often deprived of their lives because of WAR.

The Sapling Mom

Story of a sapling mom 

A storm wind comes and throws the seed away;
The seed survives 
Longs for the rain patiently 
The sky one day bursts apart 
The sun strikes making the rain drops shine as a pearl 
The seedling ?? rises up proudly ,Faces the sky 
Leaflets wide open 
The Sunrays create the rainbow ?? and life find its way through the darkest times . 

She was waiting 
To be heard 
To be where she belongs to 
Be idealized
Be herself 
Thrive just like the seedling. 

-Deepti

Guinevere At the Supermarket

I hear girlish laughter beyond the bagged onions.
Imagine her swimming naked among green ripples.
Her white arms are lily stems, hips as sleek as an otter
flow in a neon moonlight.

A sound system promotes discount cookies.
Visions of idealized females fill the dairy product section.
A courtly love of grapes spreads to the potatoes.

In the toy aisle, Avalon, Camelot, and Tintagel
appear in plastic miniature together with rainbow painted ponies.
Between the crisp covers of Guns & Ammo and Cosmo,
Annales Cambriae, Historia Brittornum,
and the writings of Gildas shimmer in periodic reality.
I should turn the old legends off, but the Kimble audio
keeps me walking with Malory and Tennyson.

In toiletries and cosmetics, I find her.
A teenager shyly laughing as she texts a boy.
My imagination reaches for the forbidden,
a fruit that was fresh this morning –
a thousand years ago.

Essays

We have to write a lot of essays
and I love it - the twisting of words, 
the molding of nouns and verbs until 
thoughts are clear and paragraphs 
sit symmetrical and idealized.

I’ll write a paper, and scowling,
write another version and another 
- lavishing them with attention
until every word is perfect.

I miss handing in papers though
- paper is substantial, not virtual
and even if a paper wasn’t well received
at least you took a tree down with you.
.
.
 “You have to write an essay every week, 2000 words” the professors say. The classes groan - but I smile.

Life Seen Through a Keyhole

Life seen through a keyhole

Subconscious out of my soul
An image blurred and indistinct
Some half remembered precinct
Idealized but not indefinite 
life seen through a keyhole 
Escaping this black hole, the lid shut tightly 
Impossible

Perhaps that's its benefit 
reflections seeking to console
Prompted by some unknown inner instinct 
Invisible to my soul
Distorted and hazy cannot reveal the whole
life seen through a keyhole 
Escaping this black hole, the lid shut tightly 
Impossible

Vague memories almost extinct 
dreams no longer in my control
I seek to understand their role 
the meaning is rarely succinct
Some distant star is linked 
life seen through a keyhole 
Escaping this black hole, the lid shut tightly 
Impossible

A stately home where ghosts may flit
Final exit of indeterminate state
life seen through a keyhole 
Escaping this black hole, the lid shut tightly 
Impossible

Enchanting Life

Nothing further enchanting,
          than something
          that never
          we had...
          of what
          we just idealized...

Dreamer But Not the Only One

I prefer to live
lost in mine
dreams,
than live this
cruel reality and
fatalistic world ...
I prefer this life
idealized and true,
than the farce we live in:
half truths,
wrap,
and addiction ...
I always prefer
hear  silent 
stars
than this shrill,
malicious music
that offers us
as a feast ...
I prefer the reverie
healthy poetry,
than the rules don't
fulfilled from
social hypocrisy ...
I prefer to sow
grains of tenderness
and be natural,
than participate
harvest
this  singular
progress...
I prefer the bark of
street dogs,
the meows of cats
on the roof, than
dissenting voices
of the lords of
derision and
misery...
I prefer to dream
and continue living
being platonic
and utopian ...
knowing how
i realize ...
'I am not the only one... "



 https://youtu.be/L6svOHFSAH8
 sugestões song imagine já lennon

Pigeon Toed

All along I thought Mo's new moniker
Was “Pigeon Toed” from the “Feathered Chronicle”
But I just realized
“Tart” was more idealized
Hope you'll forgive me my happy frolicker

And the Statues Fell

The past can be found written in history books,
Statues stand and tell no lies.
To see the future, to the stars you need to look.

We are pawns in a game of queens, kings, and rooks;
Bygone crimes we seek to sanitize.
The past can be found written in history books.

Time does not change a hero to a crook,
And to the devil you cannot eulogize.
To see the future, to the stars you need to look.

No matter what liberties with the truth are took,
Man’s bygone crimes remain, that all must realize.
The past can be found written in history books.

Always remember: man’s follies are just a page in God’s scrapbook,
Our foolishness we look to normalize.
To see the future, to the stars you need to look.

This world came without a guidebook,
Our past is not perfect and cannot be idealized.
The past can be found written in history books.
To see the future, to the stars you need to look.

We Still Sing Lullabies

lilac lullabies
black and yellow butterflies
cotton candy blue skies
field and house work once idealized
perfect dreams
imperfectly fantasized
tangled with filthy truths and honorable lies
every night they listen and console
uplifting the spirits of one another
chanting we will not let them see our cries
noise silences the chastised
perseverance overcomes the spark in their eyes
this too shall pass, in the end a better tomorrow lies
fully aware the sun will continue to rise
hope kept them focused and willing to strive
mentally trapped yet conscious of the
planned infiltrated compromise
oppressors remain confused of their laughter
it was incomprehensible and quite taken by surprise
under the impression everything had been stripped from them 
the ancestors were found uplifted every morning
still walking about lilacs singing lullabies
smiling at the sight of black and yellow butterflies
dancing under cotton candy blue skies

As Roses Bloom

Roses for a Lover, Idealized
by Michael R. Burch

When you have become to me
as roses bloom, in memory,
exquisite, each sharp thorn forgot,
will I recall?yours made me bleed?

When winter makes me think of you?
whorls petrified in frozen dew,
bright promises blithe spring forsook,
will I recall your words?barbed, cruel?

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: Rose, Roses, Red, Flower, Flowers, Love, Lover, Lovers, Lost Love, Memory, Memories, Thorn, Thorns, Barb, Barbs, Barbed, Blood, Bleed, Bleeding, Spring, Winter, Frozen Dew, Ice, Snow, Cruel, Cruelty, Pain, Separation, Parting, Break Up, Divorce, Relationship, Relationships

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