Long Blanketed Poems
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Life on the edge would certainly become a novel,
if I included all the chapters of my life’s journey
from that of an old soul, from pure consciousness
to egg and sperm colliding, to embryo, to fetus,
to that of a baby, a child, youth, a teenager,
a young adult, a middle aged man, this old man
who has walked the walk of the living and the dead
with ghostly shadows floating in night time forests
blanketed by sheets of blackness, permeated with flakes,
specks of light from distant planets, long lost stars,
forgotten lives, as the reflective moon, on high,
tries to shed light upon the nightly shadows,
brighten the edges of all the black clouds
that fill all the empty spaces above the tree tops.
Life on the edge – I have been tripping – have gotten up,
have fallen from grace, yet stands up to face adversity,
have been trapped, yet set myself free, been lost
yet have found my way back to myself.
Life on the edge – time reveals all, all the efforts,
all the accomplishments, all the failures, the defeats,
and all the losses become weightless in the light,
of an old man who sits alone, on his own locked up
in the cage of his own design, his own making
as nightmares continue to haunt - to the end of his journey.
Life on the edge – has been sharp, dull, keen without tears,
in spite of all that life, fate, karma, choice have lain upon
the experiences this old soul has suffered, endured, enjoyed
and yet the dreams of this child – before and after he became –
still linger on in the fading embers of his life’s journey
even if they are but ashes blown by cold cruel winds
putting out the raging fires that once lit up the skies
and wormed the heaven and the hearts of a few mortal women.
Life on the edge – of this plane, this dimension, this universe –
can it really be as we see it ?, is it karma ?, is it fate ?, is it design ?
Does history repeat itself ?, does it come back to haunt us ?,
in another time, in another place, in a different space.
Life on the edge – next time around – will be a prayer
to never, ever have to live on the edge again,
to know no more emotional pain, no poverty of heart, soul,
the stupidity and thoughtlessness of those in control,
those in the know, of the nature of this old man
who has shown – specks, flakes of light, light that has
burned so bright, has flickered, has long since taken flight.
B. J. “A” 2
March 10th 2004
A girl was walking through the night
Afraid and all alone
She sunk for moments of respite
Upon a blackened stone.
What flakes were these that sparkled bright
And flurried in the breeze?
What specks of gold did grace the night
And rest upon the trees?
Up from her perch she stumbled on
Into the silent black
But 'twas in vain, the specks were gone
So then she foundered back.
She found the stone on which she set
All laid with dust around
The stars of heav'n the earth had met
And blanketed the ground.
The stardust, now a handbreadth thick
Had melted from the sky
She saw a once sedate old crick
With flames now floated by.
She gathered stardust in her hand
And held it by her face
It hovered there, in ways unspanned
Held up by empty space.
Her face did glint with motes of gold
Her wavy hair did gleam
The stroke of twelve the townclock tolled,
Around her shone a beam:
She looked to see its molten source,
The sun had joined them too;
In place of burnished bronze its force
Was emanating blue.
With both her hands she caught the sun
And held him firmly there
She shook him gently just for fun
And threw him in the air;
"Oh, Sun, how come you left the sky
To be a little ball?
Wherefore from glory did you fly
And now art pale and small?"
Then said the sun, " The stars had left
They had a merry time
And all alone I felt bereft
So moved to sweeter clime;
Said he, "It was so cold and still
Without my fellow stars,
All scattered 'round upon this hill
As far away as Mars;
So here I came to be a ball
Of bright electric blue
My starry kin with wit appall
And have a chat with you."
"Oh, Sun, you do not understand!
The day is black as night
Now who will fill this darkened land
With rays of warmth and light?
"And what of you?" she asked the dust
That sparkled at her feet.
"Back to the sky I think you must
Your twinkling forms repeat."
"Now truth we see," quoth ev'ry star
In one according rhyme,
"Back to the sky we'll roam afar
Until the end of time."
Then said the sun, "Oh, now I see,
I thought that I was trite
So back the way I was I'll be
To shed abroad my light."
Then off they rushed in waves of flame
Their rightful place to gain;
No man can e'er the heavens tame,
That surely isn't plain.
Whene'ere alone in dark of night
That girl recalls her friends:
And now I think the time is right
So here my story ends.
~Written December 25th 2012
Trembling in the silence of a fresh snowfall, awaiting the struggle of laughter and tears, the beautiful that comes from stars shadowed by flakes so gentle they seem to speak silence into the spirit – like the voice of a vision, preaching peace ~ quote by poet
Secreted beneath the gentle fragments, shivering,
Blown in piles, demanding as January’s piercing light,
Silence caressing the stones, the oaks, the pines,
In glistening reflections, hearts possessed,
By the indigo skies who are burning with grace,
Speckled with sensations, amazement –
Sweltering in the 12 degree rays, where moments
Tend to breath in the crispness and release brilliance,
In waves, wisdom from the hunger
Ravenous appetites, awaiting the colors of light,
Friendly aromas of souls, newly blooming,
Emitting sounds that go on, unnoticed, echoes,
Vibrations trembling in soothing sighs…
Melodious blessings, ranging from hearts to insights,
Lifting the nights on wings of angels,
Promising the heavens to release the broken hearts,
Send comfort to the earth in the form of snow,
Who breathes a quiet truth, silence…
Beaming from the tender scales, shavings of ice,
Glittery and crisp, crumbling into moments,
When the laughing sun kisses the blanketed ridges,
Stirring the scene so that only the blurry vision,
Squinted from eyes who remember –
On the snow covered land there is plenty to glimpse,
But only the blinded eyes can truly remember,
How the sparkling snow seemed to shudder and shake,
In silence… deciding just how significant
How consuming is the silence of a shadow,
Reflected on the land whose bathed in fresh white,
The frosty sheen of hope breathing its lasting glance,
Over the peaceful promise of this kind and graceful spectacle,
Commotion in brilliance, awakening the spirit,
With a wonderful white home where the fires crack,
Popping so that even the wood can feel the flames traveling,
Deep into the bones, risking tragedy…
To be lauded by the sensations of Winter’s amazing,
Winter chasing the dreams, the belief, the faded hope…
For those silhouettes who follow the moon,
Ride the stars and twinkle like the deathlike grief,
Who arranges for even the darkness to be plucked from the earth,
By the fresh fallen flurries who break away the brittle,
Soothing souls so that they’re sanctified by the sentimental.
I awaken to the woodland scent
of a favored fragrant herb.
Its aroma transcends nocturnal bliss
and then softly seeks so gently to kiss
the distant lingerings in my mind.
Of a cherished place where I had laid
embraced warm in a lavender field
and was but long loved
by its strong perfumes
so fragrantly released.
Overfilling my heart
and infusing my mind
with all earthly bodily pleasures due
Its overwhelming possession of my sensibilities
its passions hence do hold my senses close
as an all encompassing lover
that it doth still now consume.
Its intoxicating signature fragrance,
like no other that hereby exists
The most vivid contemplation of Indigo,
that one could have ever seen
Infusing its heady oils upon my much younger memory
and an older and much sweeter tryst.
The palest shades of those lavender flowers remembered
each blossom a sweet sachet
Eternally to be engrained upon my mind
the heady confections of that day
to be forever missed.
The most complementary plumes of color,
that before I'd ever had met
Stretching toward the horizon's backdrop
a blanketed sea
a gently moving ream
A natural artistic composition of heady lavender
composed of surreal artistic color.
A palette holding court over the opposing values
and yet very complementary hues
of lovely, lovely lavendar
and wonderful planetary greens.
And if I ever were a bride to be,
I would desire to marry among the flowers
My sun kissed hair would be loosely worn,
its wildness framing my upturned face
In a field of the world's most ethereal scents,
a regal vison in colored lace showers,
Surrounded by a heaven
of millions of happily scented blooms.
In an outdoor cathedral of fragrant herbal spears
the lovliest of earthly rooms.
I would share my love,
of my beloved and with my beloved
for all whom by their presence cared.
I would unite with my love to be right there
I would unite with my love to be
for all to witness as I promise you forever
for all to witness our solemn vows
above a cloud of perpetual lavender
amongst the waves of those purple seas.
In Lavender and Lace
I would marry my love
I would marry my love to be.
(December 3rd, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,
Sinfonia
Phi For One
Mu for Alpha
Orange splices of pure fire fall to the cavernous wall as if the world was on its head,
Shadows of friends in greeting prints the rock a far,
I sit in comfort and complete humility by a roaring fire of fraternity.
I ponder my great quest for fire.
A long road remembered,
As barber drips from the pores of my soul chanting a deafening memory of my initiation.
The end is near, the wait is impossible, my stomach churns but I don’t care. I whisper to my earned brother, “where are we?”, “In the middle of no where in a freezing car.” Several hours go by and nay we pledges have much importance. Finally, the sounds of gravel hence at approaching membership. I hold and follow my earned brother along a steep and rocky path. I peer down my nose at my feet, barely staying vertical. I feel a blaze of warmth and hear a hissing crackle as if cast into the inferno of hell and damnation. An eerie silence blanketed by the radiance of Adagio. I feared the unknown and was most untrusting of the “Actives.” Who con and deceive. I trust Nathan and Dustin though, and they would not harm me! My mind never rested, I considered every course of retaliation, every out, every option.
At last I remove my blindfold destination revealed with aww.
Fresh and clear meanings defined.
My ritual, praised by youthful hearts, of Orpheus.
I am proud in brotherhood and understanding. I finally ware my gray hoody with the letters PHI MU ALPHA.
I (and others) have traveled great distances in Phi for One.
This One is but Mu, and can only be found in the leap of Alpha.
The Mu is necessary for Alpha and such a night is latent in all our minds
At nights end we all have replenished our souls with remembrance of fraternal meaning and brotherly spirit.
Raise your prelude to all the brothers, we sing.
A large circle of brothers arm over shoulder singing proud and loud on this cold damp November starry night.
This night is replayed over and over in my mind, reaffirming my commitment too Iota Rho’s long honored traditions. Time is irrelevant though we say its not. Perfection is of no concern, though we heave its importance.
At last the echo carries… SIN..FON..IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa! At last the traditions are entrusted to the next generation.
Snowing tonight ~ whispering, luminescent, dazzling,
Air misty, heavy ~ wind calm, serene,
Sights outside blurred, indistinct through the hazy window glasses,
Rooftops getting blanketed with white laces ~
A picturesque winter wonderland,
Treetops embellished with silver ornaments,
grasses caressed by soft touches of snow,
My heart is with you,
Craving for the profound tenderness of your company ~
If only you knew.
At the first demure light of dawn, open my eyes,
It's only you I think of.
In between numerous mundane chores,
Multitude of unavoidable responsibilities,
Hours of running meaningless errands,
I ponder about you.
At the end of an arduous day, before retiring to bed,
who fills my heart with magical dreams?
You ~ and the twinkle of your eyes ~
If only you knew!
So far away, exuberantly exploring unfamiliar countries,
You are immersed, building a meaningfully bright future,
Surrounded by charming delightful folks,
Sometimes a mysterious dream may wake you up at midnight,
You wonder why!
I write and write, pour my deepest thoughts,
My innermost hopes and desires, pains and agony,
Spend sleepless nights until my eyelids droop in slumber ~
If only you knew!
October 25, 2020
For "If Only You Knew" Contest (Second Place)
Sponsor: Silent One
Snowing tonight ~ whispering, luminescent, dazzling, romantic...
Air misty, mellow ~ wind calm, serene,
Sights outside blurred, indistinct through the hazy window glasses,
Rooftops getting blanketed with white laces ~
A picturesque winter wonderland,
Treetops embellished with silver ornaments,
grasses caressed by soft touches of snow,
My heart is with you,
Craving for the profound tenderness of your embraces ~
If only you knew.
At the first demure light of dawn, open my eyes,
It's only you I think of.
In between numerous mundane chores,
Multitude of unavoidable responsibilities,
Hours of running meaningless errands,
I ponder about you.
At the end of an arduous day, when retiring to bed,
who fills my heart with the warmth of magical dreams?
You ~ the twinkle of your eyes, the passionate soft kisses~
envelop the breath of this forlorn damsel,
If only you knew!
Sometimes a mysterious dream may wake you up at midnight,
You wonder why!
I muse and create, pour my deepest thoughts,
My longings and desires, pains and agony,
Spend sleepless nights until my dreamy eyelids droop in slumber ~
If only you knew!
Edited " If Only You Knew" - Sponsor: Silent One
For "R" (romantic) Old Or New Contest
October 5, 2021
Sponsor: Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
(A Marriage of Poems)
A single glance is an expression enough
with eyes dotted with its punctual punctuation.
A sigh deep enough in loves' trough
that a trance can turn it blue,
if only a beloved statuesque-
emotion carved cold and true.
Coupled in that in, that love is
in,
ward to toast the cold of emptiness.
To thwart a lonely abyss,
by injection-fjord, Nile, Oasis.
A place inside, hides in love
a place we'd share,
if life breaks in shard
antithesis baring teeth-
that puzzle the lost end-pieces.
So do we be it, as love as it does.
I know the first way,- is honey to my lips;.
My lover has no answer that is removed of this.
No-answer can have any relevance,
be cause we revel unto it's mysterious madness,
roil in the mud of it's effervescence.
There a love is an adventures trove.
One which I must for now only mentally tear,
among Avalon's Mists.
But if no longer the future,
where do I, we go from here?
Has this way known as far;
It has its
sounding board-Shofar in Scale
of Angelic Harpsichord
soothing sorts upon a forlorn Star..
So tell me of more !,
and can I have
its keepsake recollection ?
of my dreams refection,
reflect, deflect, defect for now,
for twice at once my Spirit be.
So that I have a link to my Avalon Witch.
know I`'ll have a new name
in this dark world sea,
till what your soul feels to me.
Is a buoy to a squall,
cool shade on an arid beach.
Your covering, covers everything, but what The Lord
doth to us both bring-in His Mystery,
Magesty.
O Blanketed Mirth,
your security-warns of Spring,
on a coldest winter day you feeds me
by magical Autumnal Whirlwind of otherworld
in Cacophony.
Rebirthed, rich and smokey, stirring,
brewing alchemy.
Astral and Earthy, beginning of a journey.
A canopy at our feet
Light shines on leaves of rose petal
on a cobblestone street.
To give, love -and hope at tease in play.
O but know when a night?is as stark
as this as dark as this.
Then love, you
have your purpose s way.
For in you, my mind can only live the dreams of day.
Expecting your expectant pregnancy.
Deal to me your Trefoil, Diamond of Heart in Spades.
Dig me out of Worldly grave.
Deliver me from solitary singularity.
Darkest Of Days, When His Ship Finally Came Home
A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew, he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.
Faith, love and hope filled all her lonesome, aching heart,
With such promises, her wanting nights had been spent.
Sun shown bright, her heart suddenly felt a new start
With merriest of thoughts, onto the docks she went.
Crowd hovering around a blanketed body there
Suddenly her heart felt greatest of her dark fears
Please she prayed,"If its him, tis more than I can bear"
Then she saw, her feet felt wet of her falling tears.
She had ran away, falling down to cry and pray
Looking back, at his ship's flag wave, in wafting wind.
Yet no answer came, Fate had had its dark death way
Answering her cries," Please Lord, let this nightmare end".
A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2018
Rhyme 12/12,(When Fate Speaks)
NOTE- This was completed this morn, written from an old poem fragment from back in , April 2001. I am trying to finish many of my great many old poem fragments , before my time arrives , as Fate waits for no man!!
She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog,
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand,
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house,
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago.
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim.
nor'easter winds roll top shoe box...
splinter the silence.. -- debutante' caught in amber
a cataract view frozen sepia
Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily, she polishes the cold glass,
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime,
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes,
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement.
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water,
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow.
__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"