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A Tipping Balance




The song of my soul, sounds like light
fading shadows in notes of joy
serenity unfolding on the hearts of glory
where He lives – in the dewlike tears,
overwhelming sense of grace
pouring over the bruised seas, skies
flooded by prayers and praise….

The stories of God – His amazing
the tones of our praise
on the rhythms of soundless nights
skies pouring out hope, joy
blessings arising in the heat of summer
while gentling melodies, rich with light
fall like noon’s showers,
on the heavy hearts, the souls
who know He is the reason for each season
He is the love that rises from the mists,
in every soul, He is the promise, the hope
the moment we can know
love is in control…

the music, in notes of purity
rare songs who remember to hold on,
love like this is the light for every man,
love like this is beyond words
it is the plan, brought to hearts
long before the world began,
love like this is the reason I breathe
the story of a man who heard God’s plan
and came to earth, through a virgin birth,
restored each of us – by His death,
rising again, fulfilling that plan…

we can seek Him in the flowers
we can seek Him in the trees
we can seek Him in the sunlight,
on the trembling seas,
we can seek Him on the twilight
on the stars and in the moon
we can seek Him in each spring,
each summer and each autumn, too,
we can seek Him…

yet we will not find Him
without a heart that is assured
He is the way to heaven
He is the light, the way and truth
He is the life of every believer
He is the love that guides us through
He is the answer to every need
He is the prayer prayed 
and the assurance believed
He is a tipping balance
who offers us His never ending peace!

Cling to Him when you feel lonely
Cling when you feel like you can’t 
Cling when the way is dark with shadows
Cling when you know that you’ve failed
Cling when sins seem to haunt you
Cling when the journey is steep
Cling when all seems lost to you
Cling and just believe – He is a tipping balance
With Him, you will find the purpose of this life
With Him, you will know what it is to be free
With Him, you will be saved from outer darkness
With Him, you will be changed so you can…

let go and let God, who is only a prayer away
seek Him and let Him bless your life with His grace
let Him restore you to a place where you know love is the only way!

appreciationfaithgodhopeinspirational

Form: Free verse

Beyond Logic Another Reality

Through the piercing silence of the night
Echoes the soul grasping sound
Of the ethereal howling of a pack of wolves
Their song is carried across the air
Over the tree tops to a place of forever

The full moon glows an aura of wonderment
Wolves wail to this celestial body in honor of it
Metaphorically, they are attempting to connect
With ideas that lie dormant in the subconscious
Just below the surface

Like undisturbed stones that nestle comfortably
In the sand upon the apex of a smooth flowing river
Always there but obstructed from view
What secrets reside within us
Waiting to be discovered? 
For it is in sleep the unconscious whispers to us, 
Shall we lie quietly and listen? 

If you don’t cross the bridge
You will never know what’s on the other side
So, if we were not meant to eat
There would be no hunger
Therefore the subconscious must serve a purpose
Who says that logic is the only reality? 





I have awakened, to feast my eyes
Upon a gigantic sphinx
Silently it observes me and smirks
A sly, cunning smile masking
Its many mysteries and knowledge
What secrets will be revealed
To me on this night if I listen? 

A vast bonfire blazes, and as it cackles
The flames reach above to the star filled sky
Surrounded by spectators, I see a fox, and a coyote
As a glimmering golden hawk accompanied by
A mystical red phoenix encircle the sight, uttering
Words of wisdom, which spread over the ocean of
Canyons creating an echo in which the mountains
Respond in unison, surely there is a message here

Each brilliant star suddenly transposes itself into lines
Of letters, I gaze in awe at the wondrous words
Glittering like silver beads stretching the expanse of
The universe, all unfamiliar, yet tantalizing, languages
From ages ago, no longer spoken, however readily co-existing
Along side modern speech and thought, what may I learn
If I were to study these ancient gems of communication? 

Therefore, 
I am ready to fly with the essence of the night
Begin a quest into another realm
Of human awareness
Seeking out words and ideas
To bring back




For it is here that thoughts originate
A journey into the other side of myself
Where logic has no relevance
And imagination has no limitations
As the pirate who prepares to unearth
A buried treasure

Okay kill the lights
Close your eyes
Prepare for take-off

imaginationphilosophyvisionarystarme

Form: Free verse

There's an old English song called All Jolly Fellows That Follow The PLow. The tune works fine as is for the chorus and with the verses if the tune for the 3rd and 4th lines is repeated for th 5th and 6th. Well, it works for me but my singing has never been much hindered by tunes.

It was after that big game one long gone September,
the score line was one I’d like not to remember,
in a small Richmond pub not too far from the ground,
we all settled down with our sorrows to drown.
We were well on the way, as were most of the crowd,
when in came a young pedlar a shouting out loud.

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Cried the barmaid, “How many do I get to a yard?”
“Madam, four if they’re soft or three if they’re hard”
She felt for the soft ones, she wanted a lot,
but the more that she squeezed em the harder they got.
She found not a sausage was e’en a bit soft
so she told the young pedlar to go get far offed

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the pedlar, “Why madam no need to be rude.
And in fact what you told me was verging on crude
But you don’t look so bad for a foul mouthed old sow
so step on outside, if you like, with me now.
If you play your cards right I might squeeze your left breast.
If I find I like that I might squeeze all the rest.”

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the barmaid to pedlar, “You are a right jerk,
I’m a barmaid and never do mission’ry work.
But if you're near to the shops and you buy me some eggs,
I might squeeze that there pimple you’ve got ‘tween your legs.”
Then she said something that made the whole crowd guffaw,
“And will you stop off at home and please check the back door?”

“
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

For Cyndi MacMillan's pub song contest

happyhumorousmeoldsong

Form: Ballad

Puzzle Stomped

"Puzzle Stomped"



Pieces scattered
placed on a table 
with boundaries 

between 
the incarcerated margins 
there are strict conditions

Time drips 
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted 

imperfectly
perfect 
towards upwards 

new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication

behind her veil 
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses 

holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded 

the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to 
free the redressed vicissitudes 

to undress the crisp breeze of her 
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets

gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes

Somewhere, 
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle, 

cutting tall poppy
each step she takes 
towards her freedom gate

In his hands he cups
the hidden 
missing piece

The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep

along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime

their spelt magic 
grows majestically spoilt 
seeded from a sweet perfume 

conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged  
off all the slippery knaves 

and wax-sealed pages  
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings 

turn into suffocating 
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces

She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints 
for a new road home

He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song

the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance 
thundering over a stormy mind grows

patch worked with glassed-in 
jarred ghost bees, the old 
puzzle of a story stomped on

He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time 

Beyond takes her hand 
And sensually whispers 
along all her fairest fears 

sweeping all pieces off her 
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable 

forgotten 
left lacking 
on the harsh floor

Cum dederit 
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas 

to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung

the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon

Time for a new story
He says darkly 
and swiftly closes

Past’s door.


(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)

dreamfateromance

Form: Romanticism

Bleeding

You were the reason I could live through the strife,
You kept it from feeling like a stab with a knife.
Affection’s what I needed to make it through,
The kind of true love that I shared only with you.
That’s how I felt until one day,
You decided its better to throw it away.

The four months with you went by so fast,
Now I dread how long each day will last.
We would joke about me being locked in a tower,
Yet that’s how I feel without your power.

In a poem you wrote you said I am caffeine,
Now I know how you felt, I know what you mean.
As I was to you, you were also to me,
It just took losing you for me to see.

Having no you is like having no air,
You felt the same now it seems you don’t care.
A while ago you said you’ve fallen for me hard,
Now I sit here on the ground, I fell but I got scarred.

Before that night I thought we’d endure,
This was a fact, I was totally sure.
Then it came with your words that you unfold,
That you don’t want to see what our future will hold.
I promised to care for you through the thick and thin,
But now you've made that chance to be slim.

When was the last you listened to our song,
The way I find us now tells me it has been too long.
Remembering the times you’d say “I love you”,
Now I look back to find none of it’s true.
No one could love you as much as I,
I’ll keep our moments until I die.
I clearly remember those times we had,
Now they fade with you, I feel nothing but sad.

But what kills me the most was the look in your face,
What I had to look at when all this took place.
No frown, no sniffs, not a tear in your eye,
Even though it felt like I was ‘bout to die.
I had to stay strong and hold back all my tears,
All in the meanwhile being told my worst fears.
You said you would always love me so,
Though now I feel your love ceases to grow.

I sit here holding what’s left of my heart,
It slips through my fingers as it falls apart.
Now I look back at what seems a mistake,
But you’re the mistake I was glad to make,
The kind of mistake I would always make,
Even though it ends in my heartache. 

Poetry from the heart you showed me to write,
And now it haunts me of that dismal night.
Though I know I’m not perfect and neither are you,
When we were together I felt that not true.
My life had no order but I was gaining control,
But now my heart’s left with a dark gaping hole.

lost lovesadmeloveme

Form:

Ode To Tai-Ana At Age Ten and Far Away

1

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing  thee, thyself  in turn.

Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke – 
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.

I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore – 
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.

‘Twas all I had.
			
			2

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.

Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.

I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more – 
remembering thy portrait in my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

.			3

Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions,  mind alert, thy hungering to learn.

Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.

I watch thee grow, and will,  forever more – 
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.

‘Tis all I have.

		4

Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee 
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee. 

Break loose those  prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain – 
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft – 
all a capella – pure and long.

Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.

Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.

[Finis]

daughterlifeloveheartchildren

Form: Ode

Surfing Mystified Beauty

Our beauty is hidden in our words!
                Rumi (M. Mafi, trans.)

Our content in contentment
hides within commitment toward integrity.

Our beauty is hidden in our words
said only toward ourselves.
Barometers of mental health
for how we are and are not feeling
beautiful,
good,
fair, 
balanced,
just,
harmonious,
confluent,
content,
graceful,
like good mentors without external hypocrisy,
and sometimes not such good mentors.

Mentors with words redolent of harmonic peace,
or maybe sometimes too much non-violent peace,
passive aggressive surfing, searching back and forth,
or even violently imagining unworded diverse futures
of yourself,
those around you,
generalized economic and sociopathological
and therapeutic
States and Species of thrive or demise,
and planet Earth,
and our Universe,
sometimes a metaphysically closing system,
sometimes more beautifully opening
although with considerable stress
tipping points,
trimming tabs and scissors,
adjusting balance, halves of ecologic,
within our internal voices of environ-mental health
as hope for cultural beauty.

Humaned nature adds economic
and cultural
and psychological freedom to evolve
kindness of mutual subsidiary intention,
an active love of peaceful mind.
Nature is only limited by absence
of regenerative orthopraxis,
caring and nurturing,
economically and politically powerful values
exercised within the classroom of each day.

Ecotherapeutic voices in our nights
and days of reconnecting consciousness
create our daily practice
of natural systemic design,
this song of synergy,
creative universal intelligence.

Cooperative kindness and competitive unkindness
are capacities coincident to all of nature,
a polar range from regeneration through decomposition,
from synergy through negentropy,

Kindness and love self-optimize as "Truths of Beauty"
when we freely choose sufficiency of contentment,
with full will and ecojustice intent.

My words surf my beauty and hope and synergy,
in and out,
back and forth,
listening for my listening gracefilling bicameral heart
and comprehensive consciousness,
discovering contentment within my content,
form within my information,
ecobalancing function within form,
fractal frequencies within bioregenerative
self-optimizing function.

Surfing echo frequencies,
Earth's words of microwaving grace.

beautycultureearthenvironmentnature

Form: Free verse

Long 'song Poems

The Mermaid's Rescue

Kneeling In Regret

A Tipping Balance

The Dreadful Mourn

Beyond Logic Another Reality

The Barmaid and the Pedlar

Puzzle Stomped

Bleeding

Ode To Tai-Ana At Age Ten and Far Away

Surfing Mystified Beauty

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