Living death
Never to feel
Owner
of your breath
Never to feel
Owner
of your movements
Surviving in a life
Not belonging to you
Surviving as a slave
Craving to be free
A life closed
Never to use
Your talent
Closed to
Your energy
A mind made into a wasteland
By the evil work of a human hand
Unsurmountable obstacles in front
Imponderable mountain behind
Endless wait
Useless time
Chinese wisdom says
OBSTRUCTION
WAIT IN STILLNESS
“Teach me not to care
Teach me to be still”
I postponed being amazed by time, a traveler without aim,
Until, before my soul could die, I learned,
That all that aches has dissipated like smoke under the silver moon,
A flock and a shepherd, shadows of a long-forgotten tale.
Whoever places my bare and fragile bones in an envelope,
Will write a letter of my cowardly and humble feelings,
The black angel, ruling over all that love touches,
Forbids your bleeding heart the wellspring that cries.
Bandaged with a death buried in the stretching future,
The eternity of the moment hides in the despair that surprises us,
The tears of my life, wilted fortune floods you,
The universe in my inspired soul seeks to hide away.
To our earthly life, I give an imponderable and gentle meaning,
Your perfection, my love, only you make it seem without pain,
You are the one who will birth my steps into eternity, forever,
Because your love, like a god, spreads within my soul.
Your love carries a dull dissatisfaction, ever-present,
Our contemporaries feel it and echo it along the way,
Announcing to the present-past, until the last breath,
That your Christ, my beauty, long ago ceased to exist, but turns into our dream.
monogamous not
awful courtmanship
nips off lover’s head
tally ho handsome
imponderable female
seduces new prospect
Imagine, if you will,
intolerable temps,
indomitable force,
incalculable mass,
imponderable strength,
ineffable presence,
interminably – here.
Will the sky topple inward
or the hills heap upwards
it I do not make these symbols
upon a snow-white field?
Will a poet turn to stone
before my eyes
or will a jackdaw caw
pointlessly into a gale?
And now the thin thread
thickens
becomes a full gutted snake
laying across a dusty road
or is it a rope
knotted and curling
as obtuse as any
imponderable script?
I asked God (That who abides within the within of me -
'me' being only this transient construct of ego/self}
I asked about an upcoming colonoscopy outcome.
I have had colon cancer, so naturally was feeling
a bit leery of the looming procedure.
God said -
“Forget about it.”
Then I got to fretting about other stuff.
I asked why there was so much suffering in the world?
He replied - “Forget about it!”
I could not let the worry go, so I asked,
will mankind destroy itself soon or eventually?
He simply said -“Forget about it.”
I kept on fretting and asked if all living things have a soul?
Again he just exclaimed – “Forget about it.”
I pondered why He spoke to me
in a New York Italian accent,
but some things are just too imponderable.
So I gave up on trying to rule the world.
Somewhere to go
Someone to see waiting
Something to say...why
Sands of time dry tears
Sigh of desert wind
Sweeps away face...where
________________
May 23, 2022
Contest : Bite Size Poem No. 44
Sponsored by : Line Gauthier
Close the door why?
not to alter your life....!?
Hide the window why?
for fear of pondering
the imponderable....!?
lock yourself in
for what ?
Not to be revealed,
for being afraid of fate, of infinity,
of the unknown...?
When we write
the writing... we pass
to be portion of the imponderable
that doesn't die... !
Her Side
By Sy Roth
Are they going to die like that?
Expire
Retire
As a broken, opalic string of DNA
Ribonucleic disaster
Worm-eaten womb
Ascerbic molecules.
Who enabled this procreatic mission?
They rimed it with a urine trail
Left --Her side
Discordant disdain
Heeding her rantings.
Across the hall a pink room
Only denoting her sex
Imponderable expressions of emotions
Laid bare among a string of rejections.
It echoes hollowly in the recesses.
She laid WMD traps,
Exploding in sickly apprehensions
A vale of tears.
The sisters fought the battle of Cain and Abel
Smashing their bloodless heads.
The progenitors walked between them
Without trepidation
To the other side
To vanish in a haze of decaying synapses
Leaving behind only questions
Left silent in the detritus of their disdain.
Memories of future events
Recollections of measures ahead
Reminiscence in fast forward
Aspirations leaping back
Projections of past reckoning
Icebergs frozen in conscience
Consciousness without borders
Recollective molten amnesia
Advanced reality looms precariously in forgone loops of oblivion
Renounced surrender pleads for reprieve in courageous defeat
A clairvoyant seeks to make sense of tea leaves still drowned
The backstage raven cusps darkened hope where none is left
Futuristic amnesia on the run is looking onto sunken imprints
Dragged feet are pegged to a ragged core of stuttering insanity
Wild wings roar raging on collision courses with roots’ firm recall
Yet the fool seeks wisdom if only for reruns of nascent madness
The black bird is caught in a trap of concerted voices in aphasia
A torn music sheet drifts down an abyss behind closed curtains
But the clouded clown’s mind refuses time's penultimate applause
Claps his bound feet and decides to enrol in imponderable cheers
21st February 2020
I Never Knew You
Written: by Miracle Man
12-9-2019
Devoured by fear and emptiness,
We make feeble attempts against imponderable forces.
Forces that coerce our minds while ravaging our souls.
To grasp the skeleton of hope, is not always enough?
The day will come When we accept Jesus’ sin debt payment
on the cross or hear the words “I never knew you.”
Matthew 7:23
“And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.”
Lakes lie limpid imponderable,
glistening and glassy.
Looking like kites hanging
suspended in the sky,
towing streams as shimmering tails,
wriggling in the wind.
Lakes and streams are inseparable,
codependent, bedfellows,
each alike each other,
with wet bed bottoms
and wet watery entrails.
I had a little friend who left too soon.
Acute leukemia struck at age five.
His mind was so blindingly bright.
This earth could not give it room.
He had questions in endless supply.
Every answer quickened another query
About stars, earthworms, seasons.
Even some adults struggled to reply.
In that era nothing could be done.
He was hospitalized for passive care.
I visited him one bleak, broken day.
His mother was sobbing for her son.
Losing a child—name a thing as bad.
I cannot conceive the anguish of it.
I cannot harbor a hurt so severe.
Years later grief drove the father mad.
And if perchance I meet the mother
A decade beyond her child’s death.
Seeing me opens an unhealed wound
And she tries fresh tears to smother.
His name was Brent, I see him yet
Dressed in all white in his casket.
I wonder at the why of his passing.
I wonder if God should a child forget.
Your face unwrinkles
You are imponderable
In your vast silence
In your deep, dark blue embrace
Who dares breach your salty keep?
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