Long Anticipation Poems
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I'm noticing
you're not noticing
I'm starting to look for
what you've already heard
with anticipation
overpowering my internal anxious voice
with calm
and kind compassion
When Other disharmonious human voices
speak of win/win choices
Or sing
a right-handed dance
within my balanced EarthTribal range
of listening
for sacred silent choice.
I become
my still-maturing surprise,
replacing my "Other" anxiety,
awkwardness
disappointment
About unfocused AnthroVoice insecurities
in suffering Other's compassion,
insufferable curiosity,
predative empathic touching,
yet igniting mellow multicultural waves
of resonant pastel sound,
resilient brilliant sight
And these in-between times
silent solitude sacred rests
between transparent syncopations
of impatient human sounds,
inhumane frowns
Not interacting with same room
or screen-time voices,
thoughts
verb-tainted feelings,
These soulful un-nouned bests
have, until recently,
invited anxious boredom,
apathy,
depression,
aching loneliness,
emotional apartheid,
While now
in this human sound silence
of co-redemption
I absently reach out
for deeply exploring
sounds of Simon's silence.
Negative and positive felt voices
provoking newly found choices
liberty of equanimity,
good humored curiosity about anxiety
stress
trauma triggers
Cooperatively reaching
for anticipating
future eco/ego therapy
indigenous healing
wisdom securing
conserving liberating
internal/external co-passions,
Smiles
and frowns,
ups
and downs,'
transcendent lights
and immanent powers,
remembered lives
projected loves
for capitalized risks
minimized by win/win nutritional opportunities
for nurturing silent
calm and kind
time outside/inside co-invested bliss.
The Empty Room
I sat alone in an empty room for an eternity,
the hands of the clock on the wall crawled like snails through sand,
on a white and patched face without numbers and without meaning,
the teeth of boredom ate from my right shoulder slowly.
Its saliva flowed on my chest like a cold poison,
and then I saw you appearing like a vision from another world,
in that moment as if the moon had descended into a closed room,
the doors themselves trembled with emotion and pure anticipation.
The windows painted themselves with new shades of silver and blue,
the air became light for the first time in my life,
as if each ray of light ran beneath your feet,
weaving a carpet of stars for your path to my heart.
When your lips moved speaking words of silk,
and this warm child in my chest danced without cease,
I finally felt that the dark days had ended,
when you smiled at me, my walls crumbled into dust.
If only I had seen the direction of your feet on that day,
perhaps I would have burned the sail of that ship too soon,
but my eyes were blinded by your light of sunset and sunrise,
and I didn't see that your steps led to other distant lands.
Now I sit alone again in the empty room like a statue of ice,
the clock still drags its hands on its expressionless face,
but boredom no longer bites me because I carry a greater wound,
the place where my walls fell now bears only the rust of pain.
If time could flow backward like a rebel river,
I would prefer to remain blind in my safe and old darkness,
than to see your light descending only to leave,
leaving me with the memory of a smile that destroyed what I built forever.
Christmas has always been for family;
it has always been more about them
than the season’s trappings and gifts.
A time for wide-eyed children,
for delight and giddy happiness,
for smiles that come easily to each and all.
A time when we can appreciate
our close-knit bonds; all of us wanting
to be right where we are, right then.
A time when jubilant hosts and exuberant guests
go off to midnight mass in the dark winter’s snow
while a grand feast awaits, before the tired children sleep.
Christmas morning, with laughter and late breakfast
turns into laptop lunch amidst gift-wrapped presents.
And then, 'the visiting' when we travel to other festive gatherings.
Christmas has always been first anticipation and then joy;
the joy of being together, reliving memories of our past
while making memories for our future.
Written in collaboration with T. Kirk Tierney
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022
How many hearts so full of love
are never given chances
They've lined the walls in silent hope
at one too many dances
A lonely mirror once looked back
at me, as I remember
How devastating life could be
until one warm September
I’ll not forget the ups and downs
the great anticipation
To only then be squashed again
without accommodation
But then one day when life had learned,
alone can be complete
I came upon the only one
forever to be sweet
Just catch a moment, hold it still
be open to new fashion
For one can never know when
fate and destiny find passion
And when September rolls around
remember what i say
For then it was my turn to dance
and dance until this day
Yesterday's splendour couldn't suffice,
It wasn't perpetual,
It couldn't be carried over,
The dawn of a new day
sets off a new order,
A new chronicle of events,
Atonement has to be made for the day,
The glorious cycle of blood sprinkling,
The ritual of the killing of animals,
Bulls, goat and sheep,
Spotless for cleansing,
A tiring, trivial round,
A replacement was sought for,
The high priests were in anticipation,
The prophets foretold of the Chosen One,
Who would bridge the gap
between mankind and the Divine,
Who would be an eternal sacrifice,
A propitiation for man's erring ways,
Death by any other couldn't
break the vicious cycle,
Death by any other name
couldn't bring life,
It couldn't change the tide,
There's no sure anchor besides Him.
"Share the hopes within you still
And hold the dreams that in you reside
Invite a kiss from parted lips
And trace the paths where hearts abide."*
Soar above frustration despair
with God’s love keeping you steadfast
becoming a blessing to others
who are struggling from pains of the past.
Savour the Lord’s offered grace divine
trusting His Word, tastefully sweet
nurturing anticipation faith buds
for wondrous tomorrows to greet.
Seek always the Almighty’s wisdom
leading toward triumphant trail
warned against lurking allurement bait
valiantly smiting voices that derail.
Stay hopeful* midst prayer-filled days
reaching-out by Holy Spirit’s might
blissfully serene and grateful
looking forward for fruits of delight.
*Words from Joseph May
**Romans 5:5 And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.
May 31, 2021
1st place, "Choose Your Form 2" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May; judged on 6/4/2021.
Love, love, the old fashioned way
With courtships that lasted more than a day
This new modern age of total free love
Has its appeal but missing the hugs
It's straight to the bedroom on the very first date
Never a thought of perhaps we should wait
Back in the day we wanted a virgin
To experience together the joys of flirting
The coy little love words that promised the moon
Wishing so badly it happens real soon
Anticipation built up in our throbbing veins
Imagining that moment when passion reigns
Now it's “pleased to meet you, let's go to bed!”
Oh for the days of mystery instead
Thinking of when your union's complete
That moment when both are swept off their feet
That moment sublime lasts forever and ever
To happen today, the chance would be never
© Jack Ellison 2015
A Shout into the Void
A shout into the colorless void between Eden and exile,
Between exile and eternity,
By the eternal hero
Like faith leaping milestones from the lion’s head
In the conjugal joining of Heaven’s sighs
In Hosanna’s Glorias
In the midnight where my wandering spirit
Leaves no footprints in blank shadows
Now no room in this vacuum for nothing
But the triumphant yell of grace.
Mute words once swallowed
A living exclamation point
To punctuate a tiny cry
From the jewel of the creator’s creation
Shattering emptiness
In a wink from the everlasting Genesis
Anticipation in waiting
Leaping into my fractal space
To catch my hurtling free fall
Into bottomless vast valleys of lost gravity.
Nativity spreads white wings
In expressions of prophetic prophecy
Between two distant edges
Devoid of destination and of definition,
Only silhouettes of fleeting emptiness,
Until
Mercy’s advent
Swaddles teardrops turned into crystal gems
Of everlasting joy
Echoing in the shattered void.
12-27-21
Contest: Pick a Title
Theme chosen: A shout into the Void
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Suffusion of sadness so tender,
What I yearn for lies inside.
In bed you await me,
Together we will hide
from those who think we have a choice
Or that one day you'll be gone.
Believe you to be transient
A bus I can hop off and on!
I marvel at the swell of you
So familiar yet never the same
I know you'll never leave me
Nor your power ever wane.
In bed I shiver with anticipation
For you're my only truth
All else is farce, and only in your arms
Can I cry as I did in youth.
Accepting life would mean losing you
So that line will never be crossed.
Pain, my faithful, constant lover, Pain:
All that remains from what I've lost.
Ooh, how he loved
sliding his hands
over the long silkiness,
the youthful curves
of his new wife,
over the negligee
before it rode up…
anticipation like driving a new car -
not comparable,
I know,
and at odds,
depending on
whether you are for the wife
or the car.
Ooh, how he loved sliding his hands
over the hood,
the caps,
the hips,
the back.
He loved the mirrors -
those on
the side or over the bed.
He handled his new ride with care,
the caress with smiles to impress.
The leather new, the scent
of Mon Paris Eau de Parfum.
He’s not a poet, notices not
the moon, sun or stars,
but he can feel his way
in the dark.