Long Bequeathing Poems
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April fools' day - ordinarily all manner of tomfoolery abounds
Written/updated since last year
unlike any other
when out of this world
outlandish accouterments
people did wear
hermetically sealed
of even faintest tear
to avoid contamination
against coronavirus pandemic
air supply difficult to spare
when wing and prayer
soul saving amazing grace
frankly against scalpers, marauders,
and fraudsters steeling
themselves to profiteer.
Pandemic straps tightly
plied girded beltway
unlike any other All fools day
in annals of recorded ("fake") history
western civilization tapestry doth fray
April first two thousand and twenty four
neigh, no time for horseplay
what with coronavirus (COVID-19)
boarded ship of jilted fools
(think *****sapiens)
barred courtesy omnipotent jackstay
furloughed workers analogous
grumpy minions lay
dwarfed by unfortunate global events, née...
germinating, jackknifing, and wreaking havoc
Mother Earth nonchalantly toying
(indiscriminately) regarding humanity
as bestrewing bajillion biohazards berserkly
bequeathing bedlam child's play
just desserts, she doth understandably repay
man/womankind flicked as flotsam and jetsam
vile treatment diabolically heaped,
jubilantly loosed, maniacally pitched
upon her terrestrial firma oy vey
she chokes, gags, laughs raspily yea
rebuffs, refuses, and renounces further abuse.
Nevertheless toothless gumption, albeit feeble
fighting spirit, her survival instincts assail
cumulative environmental destruction
triggered casus belli expelling deadly toxins,
when Gaia doth exhale
since onset of global interregnum
(think virulent spreading poisonous Kudzu
like wildfire biohazard)
since world wide webbed disease
brought grinding halt
consumerist paradigm in lockdown,
nonetheless within brief interim
noticeable clearer air to inhale
amazingly enough postal system...
intact voila... uninterrupted delivery of mail,
the daily highlight experienced
among people emotionally crippled
pasty faced and pale
finds quivering Captain Kangaroo
plus good n plenti proud primates
each dancing and quivering
like a captive dang gulling quail.
Death.
My soul awakens,
Fluid dimensions engulf my energy—
Draw me into a warming presence.
My aura of sight restored,
I perceive a vibrant halo which
encircles specks of fire.
I feel my spirit drifting
amidst the globes---
I sense their utter familiarity.
Through weightless language
They call unto me,
Vibrating rhythms of fervent regard.
My ancestors.
In exquisite recognition,
I fuse myself with their vitality---
Surrendering myself as one,
bequeathing myself to communal fire.
Our light dances beyond darkness,
undulating purpose, love, and eternity.
I celebrate my rest;
And the return to the stellar peace
From which I came.
l.
Opening the closet of narra doors, I sweep through
organza skirts and gemmed ringlets; my hair
ruffling aimlessly upon scalloped kerchiefs
smelling decade - old hyacinth, Mom’s favorite
ambrosia: she would lift her anklets
in tiptoed hums, ”night and day, you are the one..”
Evenings touched her candle hands; hands
that soothed wounded knees from jackstone fights;
her fingers caressing a pony -tailed girl’s wrath
with piano keys rippling into a gentle moan;
And i am delivered from my tempestuous rants.
ll.
From nowhere, the porcelain mirror gazed at me;
her rhythm of silence billows, cradling my nights
with each veil of her almond eyes
that enter into my irises: a serene sight
too close, much too tight I clung to her unspoken word.
Through years, I grew like a bamboo shoot: her quiet smiles
and music walked me through reality’s maze.
And how I would wail bearing the grim of hard study,
coughing late, late hours of reading toil…yet,
she stayed like a moth with charm flushed
in a wind of calm gaze, ebbing .
lll.
And only Mom could melt my temper
when my raging soul paused to wonder
at her light’s glow: oh, her feminine beat illumined
more lamplights dancing inside this rebellious head…
and now, she hovers around me.
I become her eyes, chanting;
never balking at my surreal conquests.
She is gone bequeathing warmth into my torched flights
without question; with much love dripping
from her graceful movement, straying all through
these my breaths: “night and day, you are the one…”
Of seven things you said while on the cross
Dear Lord, the one that pierces so my heart
Is what you said to Mary, suffering loss
Your agony was tearing her apart
You looked at her in tears there at your feet
Her heart now torn by sword of prophecy
And in your mind you heard her voice so sweet
Her lullabies of love, your constancy
You looked at her a widow sore distressed
Her only hope impaled, about to die
And there stood John who held her close, oppressed
Before you said a word, they heard you sigh
Though in the balance hung man’s destiny
Your heart about to break from weight of sin
Assured she’d share with you eternity
With labored breath you gave her next of kin
“Behold, your son,” you spoke with loving care
Bequeathing John your mother, fainting there
Jade Celeste
To think that through the excruciating pain that He bore, Jesus was still worried about his mother's welfare! How can people not love someone so full of compassion for those around him? What could He have done that He left undone to show us the depth of His love?
The Bible records seven things that Jesus said while on the cross:
"I Thirst"
"Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
"Verily I say to you today, you will be with me in paradise."
"Woman, behold thy son."
"Father, why have you forsaken me?"
"Into your hands, I commit my spirit."
"It is finished!"
Glorious words! "It is finished"...the plan of salvation is secured. The ransom has been paid by His substitutionary death. We can be forgiven!
Happy Easter to all....He died...but He rose from the dead, and to all who believe in His name, He will grant eternal life!!! "He who has the SON, has LIFE." I John 5: 12...
Through unfinished steps the Son of God goes
towards chimed glory;love has set His seal.
An endeavor abreast paternal grows,
blindly bestows complete fervour, and zeal.
Bequeathing sun streamed through the blinds and drenched
the thirsty through His breath rite of baptism.
Flourished such love, such rapture, its strings quenched
closely weaved, which thus balance and holism.
Archangel had come down dressed in daylight,
folded wings, ethereal grace, and smile,
wisps of gold sunlight, and full moon twilight
immersed in steal life leaded-stained glass tile.
Boundless mercy of God; His arms around,
to all inherit white rose garden ground.
3/1/2018
When Will is aligned beyond free will
Will Humans Be On A One Will Drive
That is One perfected ideal condition
Not to be confused with bequeathing
Will is motivational inherent strength
Is told will is a power at the very core
Is will motivation, is it thought or else
Is will impulse, particle, light or wave
Will is not intuition or instinct is a guide
Focus One pointedness eye of the bird
Ways to explain why stay with just One
The One is expressing ‘Self in every cell
Quest remains how to find that one One
Many a techniques yoga tantra devotion
All the above and more all in accordance
The one common resource is Connection
Drink from the source connect allow flow
Allow it to seep into every pore saturating
Every cell is alive in awareness has A Will
Recall train every microabode our tiny tot
Cells filled pulsating vibrating alive Being
Operates at best when on One Will Drive
All will aligned to One Lone Cosmic Will
When Willl is aligned beyond free will
Will Humans Be On A One Will Drive
By duskfall, I cruise with the sky,
throwing life’s pebbles unto ripples
of yearning… and she lifts her veil against
the moist air fondling the blue of night
unto my pale meadow…she whispers
before an interlude, refreshing my senses;
a warm potion to my languid thoughts
and pierced refrains, delicately whisking
shadows and cluttered notes: her luster
bequeathing new facets of hue
and a gleam for sweet beginnings
reaching for my wet skin with a melody
like a passage from tear's soundtracks,
then to grasp my wish on her halo.
Laying on columns of grass, I rise
to feel the sky cruising with me in the meadow.
Craig Cornish's Debussy Contest
6/10/2014
.
To live bound by “integrity”, where rectitude derides you? It’s starkly accustomed. I enrooted, enclosed by academics--the desolate nature of my sentience consuming my interior. Nether perfection defenestrates my subsequent--and I’m so damn tired. Extort my studies till blood seeps via my retinas, weave my pencil till the anathematic led ruptures; a mere standard in our education. Sacrifice my youth as to my future, conglomerate extracurriculars till my collapse, lay none betwixt within life and school; label it as a system. Shut up, shut up all of you! My exertion incapable of being compensated for—silence, silence, all of you! Toil seldom for me, subsequently bequeathing my labor… Discard my passion, coerce me to fill the perforated gaps in tuition—quiet, quiet, all of you! Refrain from protesting till your own encounter, and perpetually weep!
Shut up, all of you
My future prioritized
Discard my own youth
Wreath wrapped around the door of my hearth
Hearth's decor both symbol and integral part
Part of the pageantry and beacon of my hospitality
Material canvas eroding with time; modest beacon bequeathing my liberality
Time capsule which transports festive memories to my merry mind
Festive timber melded and artfully twined
Mirth and praise twined in harmonious refrain
Earthy refrain with delicate stitch and modest, pulpy strain
Modest harbinger of good will to all who it's crest ascend
Good will garnish that I with tidings of joy append
Garnish gratuitously crafted, residual hope to send
Hope that will past heartaches and trials rescend.
Sign post serenading Christmas past, while celebrating the decorum of Christmas present
Token garland in which future Christmas dreams to consign
Agony, grief and particularly anger
roil these lovely bones
life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness
exempts those graced with darker skin tones.
Rather than raucously riot,
I craft emotions courtesy poetry
mine feeble attempt to agitate and protest
sublimated thru scathing poetic indictment
lame contrasted against violent protests.
Peaceable methodology,
(viz printed word) versus war
preferable mode to conflict resolution
opposed to explosive uproar
angry frenzied mob scenes as seen online, or
alternate mass communication medium
valiantly, yet vanely attempt to even out score.
Tipping point evincing breached injustices,
(whereby persons sporting greater melanin)
triggered spontaneous outbursts
(bedlam witnessed while safely sequestered
within Highland Manor apartment
unit B44 May 31st, 2020).
Innocent lives, particularly
those who proudly identify themselves
purportedly black targeted merely because
genetics crafted them darker hued skin
unwittingly and unfairly
site them in crosshairs
where strong arm of the law
indiscriminately takes their life.
Despite genetics bequeathing me Caucasian
(predominantly Eastern European - Semitic features)
with one percent Neanderthal man
thrown in for good measure),
yours truly dispirited,
dismantled, and disgruntled
née disenchanted linkedin
with *****sapiens.
Neither railing nor ranting
can alleviate injustice
visited upon heads and torsos of innocent
Americans, whose genealogy traced to
Africa, Australia, Haiti, Melanesia, Papua
New Guinea and South Asia.
Because they and/or forebears
hailed from areas with highest ultraviolet
radiation in the world,
subsequent generations automatically
serve as fodder stigmatized cradle to grave.