Now torn from out the home I’ve ever known,
Propelled by unseen winds to stray away,
The chilling rain that bathes my form is shown
By moonlight in this dance of swift decay.
I twist and turn as tender veins now tear,
Impelled by gales that push me to the dark;
My frantic tumble plunges down to bear
With sudden force against this rugged bark.
Yet, resting in this comforting domain,
I bow, amazed to know the sun will rise;
A deeper life shall bless the soil again,
Where quiet roots ignore the stormy skies.
Held fast within the forest’s cool embrace,
I fade into the shadows of this place.
"Note: AI image generated to complement the themes of my original poem."
Why oh why - what be it may?
What impelled you? Dawn broke
Does it imply internal of success
Did you indeed climb enjoying the joke
It's a lullaby!!? Who did it impress?
I still wish that I may and or I might
Have the stars in the skies to wish upon
And the tune, of the lullaby soothe the night
Beauteous Be this golden of opportunities
I sat on a wall - I built with exclaim
Stand tall too but with doom on fossil my rock
And too! My cold front, shed no tears with blame
What satisfaction can you get with intent
I see - visually the perception clear
Dysfunction - disorientation! Got a clue?
What's happening to me ? The mind might went ,I fear
In my soul! Blessed inspired by God
Me little ole me myself cleansing internally
Healing within - where to begin
Keeping my stars in the heavens with me , actually
I see - too those horrific stones aimed
Hurt? Built my wall on my rock not yet to fall
I walk in my age that fossil be it be may
It's no lullaby! Really! With theory of
Repetition, its now a new call.
CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE-:-
reflective
mirrors66
explore
encoded
illusions
in SUBTLE HINTS
relative
gloom
contrasts
initiated
elements
where IMPELLED MEASURES
landscaped
intense
dramatic
fringe
spectaculars
eclectic
borrowings
radically
intuitive
essentials
a mystery
of
impressions
far-sighted
subtle
&
momentary
emancipated
gravity free
& undefined
demur
&
impelled
irregular
&
distinguished
precursor
of
the absolute
Arose from the bowels of Holocaust
Deceit serrated t'belt the buoyance of war hailed call
Hail thee to hall, to avenge thy brother
Impelled mysteries of destiny reigned the doom of insuperiority o'er wary world
The heathen hath halt the assault o'er imperious arms
Armed with salt and thy brother's head and heart
Strangers decree and massacre of superiority lesserly spake this tidal turn
And chant the overture of impartial time
Dearest friend, O fiend of brotherly arm
Spickle saline hath mock the imperious heart
Chaste t'torn t'merely marr this parting passage
Risen from the bowels to face the decaying mortal vantage
Cherish all of that which you have now,
For at the ends of all shared roads
Memories become tears below your brow,
Each event impelled by Earth's lunar nodes.
Cherish all of which is secretly promised,
For at the end of all of this journey of life,
You'll realize how you were always blessed
Even in darkest days of turmoil and strife.
Cherish all of what you once had,
For in the very end you'll see it all again,
Flashing through moments you were glad,
Realizing your light outweighed your pain.
Cherish all of what you desire now,
For there is only so much of the journey left,
Indulge, inspire yourself no matter how,
Enjoy the pleasures you were once bereft.
The Big Bang sound vibrates in the universal core,
pulsates in harmony with the concerto of the creator.
The elements of His presence is ingrained in our souls,
interconnected by the common threads of awareness.
Everything crafted drifts in the stream of continuum
that cascades with the music of love in our hearts.
By one universal melodic chord we all are bound,
from one cosmic harp all the prime rhythms ripple.
The heavenly infinite network of unique oneness
encrypts the unifying divine algorithm of our being.
Suffused with unbound flash of the godly galaxy
our souls perceive the universal acuity of divinity.
As the karmic design aligns with the absolute
the pristine petals of the awakened souls unfurl,
blossoming the heavenly flower of love.
In its fragrance floats the grandeur of His grace.
In the sacred sanctum of timeless tranquility,
embraced by the seamless sky of His benevolence,
the liberated souls merge with the devout wholeness,
flies free impelled by the effervescence of salvation.
The cacophony never lasted long
we always found new variations
to the same ancient music.
If at times a sobering truth
impelled us to acknowledge,
that the opus of our works
was merely a divertimenti,
played by a band of blind mice,
we still believed,
in that grand symphonic final.
It is reassuring to know,
we can still whistle a broken melody,
as a concert hall empties out
into that long and voiceless night.
Ask me not to sing
of happiness, love, and pretty things
of freedom, justice, equality,
of wealth, even of friends’ loyalty.
Doubt me not. Like you
I have desired these, too,
but their lyrics elude me,
or, I haven’t had my share
of whatever joy they bring.
Thus, try as I want,
I cannot compel my heart
to sing of things it hasn’t known
or it might go off-key
for attempting too foreign a tune.
Let me sing instead
of cloudy skies and violent winds,
of poverty, loneliness, cruelty,
of hunger, cold, and misery.
Believe me, these I am familiar with,
their notes embedded deeply
in the very fabric of my soul.
I can compose an aria
based on them which, when sung,
can bind the arena
in a spell, and my heart need not be
impelled to do what it is most willing
to intone. Yes, of these things,
allow me to sing.
Down the corridors of mortal existence
He pursued me without ceasing,
Never yielding in his search of the lost,
Nor flinching from the wounds he carried
To gain admittance to my broken heart.
Out of a love beyond finite understanding,
He poured his abundant grace
Like a cascading fountain,
Showering me to cleanse and heal.
He gave himself for me,
When he brought his heavenly kingdom
To reign within, where
Once I ruled in my life.
Nothing compares to the mystery
Of God's holiness being implanted
In this empty vessel
Because of the sacrifice of one pure Man
Upon a cross of guilt and shame.
I can only surrender to his invitation,
Knowing I am known
Since before the dawn of creation -
Made in his perfect image,
Now restored in gold.
If by thought, word or deed
I mar the redeemed body,
I am impelled to confess
Before him, who stands in my defence,
Since he has atoned for all my sin.
At peace in the presence
Of him, who is the Prince of Peace,
I look to a time out of time
When I will be in eternal glory
To bow before him as Lord of lords
And King of kings -
My brother and friend.
.
for mine see locked tight
az if my had no command
impelled i'm your liege
They make the phone ring
They look at it.
It rings
Things appear
Things disappear
As they will it
I'm going to be like that
Someday
And I'm going to learn to fly
No lard of swine
No spleen of snake
Yet a wish- impelled flying machine
My body I'll make
Alone
Into the mouth of my Beloved
I will fly
Into the air
The cloud
The face
The wind
I will fly
Baby witch.
Jairus had faith in Jesus. He's a synagogue leader.
He was impelled to implore Jesus in his times of need.
Jesus knew his inmost heart, as he was a mind reader.
He pleaded with Jesus to heal his daughter. He agreed.
The compassion of Jesus the divine consoled Jairus.
She is not dead, he said. He called out Talitha Cumi.
All around him thought he wasn't aware of the crisis.
The girl rose up. All stood as though struck by a tsunami.
Full of concern, like a father, he told them to feed her.
They felt the Almighty himself had arrived before them.
With his affection, their gloomy existence, he did stir
Each little being, for him, was more than a precious gem.
Death is suffering; Jesus proved, life is a miracle.
When lost life is won, the joy gained is incomparable.
The cacophony never lasted long,
we always found new variations,
to the same ancient music.
If at times a sobering truth
impelled us to acknowledge,
that the opus of our works
was merely a divertimenti,
played by a band of blind mice,
we still believed,
in that grand symphonic final.
It is reassuring to know,
we can still whistle a broken melody,
as a concert hall empties out
into that long, voiceless night.
("Three Day Moon", 2019, original encaustic)
The Discovery of This
What is love
but a vortex
of lust and longing
doubt, suspicion and fear
that pulls us in
and down
and under
and drags us along
the bottom
before spitting us out
the other side
out onto the grass
of a shore
beyond
all this we bring
torn and twisted
spun and rinsed
washed
and cleansed
and made whole
by what it is
we never knew we had
what propelled and impelled
what waited and delivered
what we never knew we wanted
what we never knew was ours
what is love
but the discovery
of this.
(7/28/12)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.