Long Accentuating Poems
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("Pema", 2017, original pen and ink)
The Journey of Souls
Dogs make the ultimate example
Of a conditionable being,
And my deaf-dog buddy
Old Pema the Pug is no exception.
Meanwhile Buddhists of all faiths
Believe reincarnation effects us all
And involves the journey
Of a soul through countless lives,
The idea of improving our lot
Being central to life’s meaning,
Improvement which comes from the habit
Of accentuating the positive and eliminating
The negative, combined with deep insight
Into our true nature.
One way to do this is through meditation
And contemplation in a mindful way,
But the point is, it’s up to each of us to do.
So back to my pug.
Like I said he’s getting old,
But he’s still a best friend
And I’m sure I mean the world to him too
At least in the basic fact of how he’s bonded to me
In a way that’s sweet but
Also unfathomable.
This morning as I worked on a project
Building some closet shelves in my study
He came to hang out with me
And of all the soft spots available
Chose to take his place
On my meditation cushion
A spot he has over the years grown familiar with.
And it strikes me as a profound
Yet obvious fact that his conditioning
Is leading him to not only follow me
In this life,
But to set a course for his future lives
To improve his lot
Whether he knows it or not.
Maybe at some point I had a similar mentor.
I did flash once on seeing the dark soothing inside
Of an ancient Tibetan temple
From the edge of a wide open windowsill
High above the valley below,
And in the moment recognized
Something of the heart, something familiar
A point of some significance
Now matured in time
To something vastly different.
And the thought occurred to me
Perhaps I was a small bird then
Attracted to the place, perhaps simply
By a morsel of food,
But in the moment heard and felt
Something much more significant
Much more substantial and transformative.
Maybe it was a million years ago
In a different galaxy,
Maybe it was just a lifetime or two ago.
What does it matter
To the dreamer dreaming this now?
Like for my pug
Pursuing his own self interest life after life,
It makes all the difference,
And eventually becomes self evident
To mean everything.
(2/21/24)
Wisdom and experience are gained from different people
acquaintances triple, exposure amazingly quadruples,
little efforts give positive multiple responses
and to mythical success stories, I’m an example.
Accentuating the happy countenance of survival like the dimple
but the road isn’t straight and not everything is simple,
making the beautiful side of Life my gentle half brother.
Before walking fine, I crawled like a cripple,
within the gland of prosperity, my success was like the nipple,
subjected into quality discipline in Life’s temple,
to bring out a fighter and a worthy disciple.
My rewards and rags, going side by side as a couple,
making me a self sample, hence growing my own permanent apple
as the beautiful side of Life confirms me a merited champion.
Blessed by God* to fulfill varied multi-faceted roles
Dressing-up well is vital among my functional goals.
Notable are engagements prodding me to don special blue raiment
And recalling them gives me delightful excitement.
As Dad’s first daughter, I had a light blue that propped my princess’ poise
Enthralling my heart, that blissfully approved Mom’s best choice.
Then there was a royal blue, expressing my communication zest
Making me look dignified ‘til I triumphed in my high school oratorical contest.
Years later, I wore a powder blue, meant for my dear brother’s wedding
Accordingly accentuating my composure while tears of joy kept shedding.
With my emceeing skills, I’ve been asked to serve as program host
Hence exposing blue dresses’ hues and shades of jubilant mood’s post.
In our clan reunion, I was in my Mom’s blue dress with mirth’s pleasure
Sure enough, I received comments I believe were compliments’ treasure.
Thus is me with my blue dress’ history
Revealing a part of my personality in this poetic expository.
*2Samuel 22:47 The LORD liveth; and blessed be my rock; and exalted be the God of the rock of my salvation.
December 31, 2019
Honorable Mention, "STRAND choice 9 any theme any form" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/29/2020.
Emptiness is here, and a deathly silence. You walk
the streets, searching for some sign of life. Then suddenly,
you hear in the dimming twilight – the sound of a hawk
accentuating this world’s strange new reality.
You see a figure at last – approaching. A small child!
Her mouth seems too red. Too wet! You want to help her, but
as she staggers closer, you see a face far from mild!
Contorted, it’s inhuman. You feel inside your gut
the need to flee. Other forms in shadows now appear.
Instinctively you know they are beings with no soul.
Dead eyes will haunt your dreams; you will live your life in fear
of the walking dead. Strange sickness has consumed them whole.
Human kindness you must find; night’s living death is here!
I saw the sun rise over the North Sea
Accentuating coloured fishing boats.
The beauty of the dawn gave hope to me
A restful pleasure made my soft eyes dote.
The peace of this small town has caught my heart.
Scenes from ancient times come close again
The gulls swoop down and sketch their flying charts
Remote as ever from the realm of man.
The shingle beach,the Church where Britten lies
The in and out of tides of salty sea;
An exact match of houses,hill and skies;
The amber shop, the chip shop,the oak tree.
In my mind I walk in love again;
Though of the two, a single one remains
Radical planet friendly measures
equals earning kudos as unsung hero
(think environmental/carbon footprint)
nearly absolute zero
while global population quarantine
suspension of civil rights
would never fly with trumpeting pharaoh.
Since United States economically crippled
(as well rest of world wide web)
courtesy coronavirus fallout rippled
analogous, whereby Mother Earth
(Gaia's) motley crew psyches stippled.
Golden nugget opportunity whence
twenty first century man/womankind
can make figurative about face
humanity undergoes tense
fossil fuel powered civilization
intricate tapestry doth unwind
(COVID-19) wreaking havoc
among flu fighting village people
constituting human race
shifting radical paradigm
toward renewable resources
alas me dogmatic karma credit
thinks green new deal
(Paine fully) common sense
to any doubting Thomas
since global governments
currently flattened, gutted,
hobbled, immobilized, jackknifed
martial law restricts
impugns verity capitalistic
(re: cannibalistic planetary exploitation)
acquiescing higglety pigglety
free for all
(Alfred E. Neuman wannabes) madcap
(spy versus spy chase
explicit green lighting
global (fiery red) desecration rents
linkedin multitude innocent
flora and fauna violently asunder
ethos predicated upon
vandalistic, monopolistic, capitalistic...
manifest destiny codas enshrined
no matter indigenous tribes genocide
horrifically did erase
place names benign injustice
underestimates true value
native peoples legacy
impossible mission feebly
conjuring bloody events
sacred treaties scotched, revoked, quashed...
accentuating death sentence signed
obliterating rightful heirs amazing grace
storied proud nations traduced
as agents provocateur
cruelly prodded to adopt
offense and/or defense
inevitably pushed off their sacred lands
today their abysmal existential nihilistic crisis
crushing, damning, punishing... poverty
testament how third eye blind
turned away s as to avoid witnessing
tears for fears etching staind face.
On my golden back roads
Both sides of my road are clothed in gold,
Swaying trees carrying their autumn splendor,
And golden petals are floating gracefully to the ground.
Fragrant leaves cover the lane,
Rustling under my feet as I kick them
Into the heavily scented fall air.
Here and there brilliant reds
Break up the sunny yellow expanse,
And purple asters cluster in between,
Accentuating the bold color celebration.
On my right, I pass a white donkey grazing peacefully,
While a seriously pedaling bicyclist
Exchanges a smile and a wave with me.
Firewood, waiting for those colder days,
Is stacked on porches decorated with fat golden pumpkins.
I take a deep, satisfying breath of air,
Filled with fall scents and fall joy,
And smile.
Through the entry way, she glided across
A pearlescent gown she wore
Hair freshly crimped, with nowhere to go
She felt her life, such a bore
Accentuating her hour glass figure
Eventide had brought the moon
The howling sound she heard in the distance
Meant her lover was trying to croon
A singer he’s not, the effort was there
He was trying to win back her heart
A soft gentle smile, crept cross her face
He was off to a good fresh start
The sounds got louder, he was trying his best
He needed to win her back
Like a feral cat, the screeches were loud
His voice would continuously crack
As he hit the last note, the thrum of his voice
Was met with a thunderous tang
His beautiful mistress was at the door
Enamored by what he had sang
Plumb blown away, by his caring heart
The love was there once more
She’d forgotten about that initial thought
Of her life being such a bore
~ Ms. Affection - March 17, 2021
Radiant dawn verily blessed by God
reflect His artistic wonders, beautifying mornings
assuring days --- triumphantly jubilant.
Through virtual exposure
I behold glorious twilight commencement
marked with crimson tints along scarlet red clouds…
Iridescence of tangerine blaze
subdues aquamarine firmament midst
saffron hues highlighting summer dawn brilliance…
Awed am with the elegance of coral pink
intensifying watermelon luster on charcoal gray sky
featuring the skyline of a free country…
For splendor of nautical dawn
gleaming gold reigns as lemon yellow peeks
blended with chartreuse rays…
Indeed, my heart praises the Creator while His majesty shines
accentuating afterglow of lilac midst prevailing maroon
and lingering gentleness of lavender.
*Psalm 130:6 My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning.
April 18, 2021
9th place, "Changing Colors" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet; judged on 4/19/2021.
I would design a lady kilt that’s quaint
midst my modest apparel preference
adorned with elegance without restraint.
considering its Scottish reference
While promoting church fashion that’s wholesome
I would design a lady kilt that’s quaint
such women-prayer warriors do welcome
as they seek God's grace; in faith, not to faint.
Accentuating nature in fabric paint
creating along fashionable flair
I would design a lady kilt that’s quaint
showcasing clothing for Women’s Month fair.
Stylishly inspired with global feature
crafted uniquely against tribal taint
believing in good blending of culture
I would design a lady kilt that’s quaint.
*1Timothy 2:9 In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel…
March 22, 2021