Long Beaming Poems
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ANAMNESIS
Early in the morning when the sun is just peeking beyond the clouds
I have kept you alive in this life,tho you have traveled on.
My morning meditation brings introspection of reflections
while reading the pages of my past - visions of joy brings smiles to my spirit.
I relish in the thoughts as I rendezvous cherished memories.
my purpose in this life is tied to you,While lost in this fleeting daydream.
Running throughout my recollection,are many faces faces,some smile
some not smiling,glances of joy in just remembering the feelings.
Remembering the love;I marinate in time.Holding on still,to these precious
moments ,I feel Cherished with every visit.
I too begin then to shine,early in the morning as love has imposed,it's
well thinking memories of those dearly departed souls that visit me.
Without memories; It would be like life played a cruel trick on me.
So I hold on dearly,I keep still,and shine, beaming; For it is then --
when love has imposed on me it's own will.
Meditating in the morning, when the sun peeks out over the clouds and summons me;Basking in my memories,I join in the memory of dear ones- gone before me
Soaking up the warmth of the sun's glow-recreating that feeling of great joy;
Joy that my ancestors have brought me in the past,
re-lived so vividly just for this moment.
see dreams of my zestful youth in soaring, swirling, swooshing, floating leaves
beauty in decay
leaves drift around, leaves flutter
nature's decoupage
red, magenta, amber, crimson-hued leaves,
few dejected sprawled on ground summer's dreams weave!
senses tantalized with riot of colours on trees,
delightful roses still beaming in golden breeze ~
June 11, 2023
A Monoku, a Haiku, 4 lines of Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Syllables checked by HMS.com
Rhymes checked by rhyme zone.com
FIRST PLACE
Beneath a lovers’ moon, Summer breezes in.
In still-cool primrose evenings lingering from spring,
she whispers in my ear.
I hear. . .
honey bees near lilacs, whippoorwills in leafy trees,
and somewhere. . .
A hoot owl in the night.
Beneath a beaming sun, Summer carries on
inhaling and exhaling sultry days.
On languid afternoons beyond a yellow flowered meadow,
she finds me as I wade into a stream.
Warmly, she breathes upon my cheek.
I feel. . .
the squish of mud beneath my toes,
cool water all around me,
and tiny tadpoles flitting round my knees.
Beneath an autumn moon, Summer slips away
sigh. . .ing into
still-hot waning days.
I smell her fragrance in the blooms of asters that I pluck;
I see her in a golden-glitter dusk and
I hear her in the cries
of wild geese across the sky
calling out to me her last goodbye.
The old veteran leaned on his cane watching the passing parade,
The usual equestrians, John Deere tractors, the local fire brigade.
With a trembling hand he saluted Old Glory as it passed by.
His chest swelled with pride - tears welled up in each eye.
The National Anthem streamed thro' his brain which he could yet cite!
(O', say, can you see by the dawn's early light.)
He recalled storming Normandy's shores with bombs screaming!
(What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming.)
His only concern midst battles' din was for comrades, left and right!
(Whose broad stripes and bright stars thro' the perilous night.)
He enlisted at age seventeen to keep freedom's torch beaming!
(O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming.)
He fought all thro' Europe and was honored to have done his share!
(And the rockets' red glare, and the bombs bursting in air.)
He thanked God that he survived due to his Mother's earnest prayer!
(Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.)
He remembered brothers who lay sleeping in hallowed grave,
(O', say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave.)
Who placed national interest above self, forfeiting life they freely gave!
(O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.)
He slowly lowered his trembling and gnarled hand to his side.
The old warrior stood tall that day and others noticed his pride!
He was honored to know the colors would grace his bier one day.
He watched 'til Old Glory was gone from sight and slowly shuffled away.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Man have you seen all the stuff
that they’re spreading these days?
Beaming it through the air
from some satellites somewhere a
thousand miles out in space…
Not even stopping at the
fact check station
long enough for a refill
of hot BS
with a side order of lies…
Because truth never matters…
Within seconds they send it
straight as an arrow
piercing our brains
until all that remains
is the drool running down
dripping onto the ground…
Never mind.
I can tell you have
by that blank stare on your face…
Thinking none of this matters…
They bombard us
with images of another
plot line and tell us not to look
that everything is fine
until we begin to lose our focus…
Sensationalism.
Fascism.
Communism.
Racism.
Leftism.
Rightism…
All being sold as gospel to our kids
who don’t care anymore about
how it used to be way back when…
When some things still mattered…
I try to tell them about
how you, me, and all the other dinosaurs
cruised Main Street with our AM radios blaring.
our bell bottom jeans flaring
everybody caring
about peace and free love
and how it was all going to be groovy man…
They say all that ancient crap doesn’t matter…
Because nowadays it’s too
hard to distinguish
between the truth and a lie
friends or enemies
lovers or haters
and who’s killing who
and for what
or for why.
Makes no difference…
Cause it don’t matter…
Saw just the other day where
some kid shows up at the wrong house
looking for his little brother.
knocks on the door
but the old
guy just sees another gangster
and guns him down…
Just because he can…
Says that’ll teach you to stay
on your own side of town…
You think he’s locked up
in jail somewhere?
Nah he’s out running around…
Like none of it matters…
Don’t even
get me started
on all the other stupid
shootings going on
down at the school and the park
birthday parties and parking lots
banks, hotels,
swimming pools,
make out spots…
Everybody hears the gunshots
but nobody gives it a second thought.
They just keep recording it
for TikTok or YouTube…
Gotta get my likes…
Even if it don’t matter…
A little snow and a little rain
Oops
Heavy snow and heavy shower
Ouch
Strong wind with thunder and lightening
Boom
The moon has almost completed its journey
around the world and is still searching for a
comfortable spot to radiate its beaming light.
It searches dark secret places
untie deceptive knots and withdraw secret plugs.
It burst chains and shackles with its powerful light
and smiles at us as it ripples through thick dark clouds
clearing rough spots unveiling secret patches,
repairing painful damages and ironing out crooked paths.
The bold moon is pregnant with rain it’s weeping for the
Mothers, wailing for the children and lamenting over the youths.
Animals are getting jittery they jump and prance in the middle
Of the night as the moon tries to complete its full circle.
Cows are on heat
radiation increases causing mankind to lose their sleep.
They become disagreeable and socially unreliable.
Farmers are anxious too they do not know which beam
The moon will disburse
If it rains moderately the crop will flourish
If it rains heavily the crops will perish
If the north wind blows it will overturn everything in its path
If the east wind blow we will be saved from its terrible wrath.
Prepare the land for the moon’s circle
Gather all the grains in the barns
If you sow corn you will reap corn
If you sow love you will reap love
If you sow peas you will reap peas
If you sow kindness you will reap kindness
If you sow compassion you will reap compassion.
Be prepared the full moon is about to complete its full circle.
©2014 Christine Phillips
Working Long Hours
Glasses long since full
Relaxed mist evokes wooing words
Yet conversation and atmosphere still are dull.
The four on stools-not vagrants and not lords
The common face of easing pain
They sit and smoke, smiles shown
As if to verify the swelling in their veins
Night closes, we leave completely alone
Picture on Hand
I, placed in precarious positions
Do put there you too
Opposite
Apart and Difference; acceptable,
in equation. Of sun and moon yet,
not so. For absence troubles me.
The Prestigious Lawyer and his Car on Vacation
A forest of trees
A graveyard of innocence
(which ones to cut)
A quick grip and a lotta squeeze
A little water to fuel the rinse
kiss of rose
I have not felt the kiss of rose
Since more a year has passed
Have not time to touch the stars
Having only slow scenic rides
Across the river beaming
Radiantly
On wooden beams
I cry for love
Since more a year has passed
Over
The fisherman’s eyes slowly roll
Across the bounty less communities
A shark to swim far from shore
A shadow-child, to hide
The silently forsaken lurk
Heart bleeds; communication still
Slow to form rivers
Home
Hang me on a sullen Sunday drive
When daddy holds his handkerchief high above my head
I jump squealing with delight
Fear
Forever spinning linen cloth
Little pieces... Not ever!
Held I scissors in hand
Seemed rusted hard to move.
Upon sale only... Cut... and worn!
Ray
Slow starlit regressions
Sudden swirls regret
Raymond run, Friend
White sting in face... heart!
Unblemished cloth unlikely veil
Grand Parent
Mixture of granite and quartz
Braving summer sunshine and arctic snow
Little pieces lay in organized communities
Time has transformed you to a masterpiece
Mother
Beauty like the night time breeze
Softly rustling tree leaves
Perhaps when this tree is grown
I’ll be able to appreciate all the love you’ve shown
For the usual life to digress
From the norm to the average
Standard has to meet it's distress
Not considering any group or age
Wonder is unusual to think of
Living is nothing compulsive
And the virus palliative isn't thereof
To some personal risk becomes aggressive
Children won't drive safe love
Adult may set the distance right
Monitoring won't let fun cum dove
Everyone is just of beaming fright
Yet, God is wonderful to all
Despite the stop put to work
Financial status is still in its fall
Many manage months of smirk
Just as it is then and now
People acknowledge all as berk
Those who survived wonder how
Truly it isn't all by ones hard work
O, Valencia's prized possession,
perfected in your prime,
to pluck you without resistance
from a beaming, bowing branch...
Gravity's gentle transaction
would roll like attraction into my open palm.
To feel your textured tenderness within an easy grip,
senses saturated with sun kissed sleekness...
How juicy you must be underneath your polished peel.
Tenderness is just one press away
from these longing lips.
Digging in, cuticles' thirst would be quenched
like a manicure's pleasure.
The citrus mist would burst beneath your flesh
with the sound of captive release, freedom's sigh.
Fragrant as orange blossoms under active inhales,
sweet as honey perfumery,
tantalizing taste buds would smoothly
squeeze your ethereal pulp upon them,
dripping with delectable desire fulfilled.
Seamless in freshness, unblemished,
each bite would be a lover's delight,
binding beauty, external with internal
in this connoisseur's lifelong find.
2-18-2020
.
Precious little flower of
Jehovah God Almighty
or is it
shining little star
so bright
Yes to my surprise
here you are
a gift from Jehovah
all for the likes of I
to teach
to hold
to love
with all of my might
Oh precious little
man
all of the glory to
Jehovah God Almighty
melded 'longside
His Son Jesus Christ
Yesss
there is the greatest
Love of All
Yes
ours
a beaming reflection
of
the light