Long Blows Poems
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I know of a young soul who lived
By the lies and labels society and others
Projected and reflected on the screen of
His or her mind. Who was always lost in
The thoughts and ideologies of others.
Fear became the only companion a
companion who existed only by the
false identity of comfort and safety.
He/she was made to believe that it
Was not always ok for them to be
How, who and what they are. So they
Are often stuck in an ongoing loop
Of the quest I on’s (questions) of who am I? What am I?
Why am I here or there?
I know of a young soul whose mind is
Constantly on the attack. The pains of yesterdays
Had them looking back never looking
Forward to anything worthwhile only
On the front lines of consciousness if only
You knew the things that are holding you captive
Vision is only as clear as the looking glass.
So I guess life is just a series of learning experiences
But I’m late for class.
I know of a young soul who was taught to believe that wealth and abundance
does not grow on trees so the only image of green is what blows in the spring and Summer breeze and the toxic waste symbols that only cause Dis. Ease. The shadows of doubt the plague of overwhelm towards any form of happiness category5 winds of fake and phony friends claiming to have your back in comparison to family ties that wear thin. What to do then when a young soul is made to feel as if the existence
Is nothing more than a sin.
She is the beginning
As well as the end
The best part of the middle
Then start over again
The sweet part of the taste
On the tip of your tongue
The wisdom of old
The giggle of young
She is the breeze
That blows in the Spring
The long distance call
That brings you close with the ring
The moment you hear
Someone say yes
She is the mystery
That hides in the guess
She is the hope
That you hold onto
The talk of the town
The brand in the new
The little crease
At the edge of the smile
She's the bees knees
The answer to why
She is all this and
She is all that
When it comes to it all
She's where it's all at
32 Years ago today I married the love of my life.
Blue is such a sad color on you
I said to myself as I said to myself as I watched you leave again deja vu
And as much as I want to say it's not my fault
If I had the choice, I'd probably choose wrong again just to be with you
Knowing I'm not supposed to be
The ocean blue eyes would drown me every time and I know how to swim
I ignored the answers and proceeded to ask too many questions
Everyone thinks hell is hot but it's really just the pain we will feel on earth repeating until the record breaks
How many mistakes will it take
Until you admit this is not just an accident
And how many times will I crash with you before my life is totaled
I can't answer that question, but I know the answer is wrong
So, please when you leave this time at least close the door behind you
I hate the cold draft that blows in suicidal thoughts and low self-esteem as you leave
So, this time I'll shine the light on as you crawl out at night because I don't want to be alone with my dark thoughts
But it's better than being alone with you
p.s. this one was murder not suicide...
The self-whirling storm blows over the placid surface
of the wilderness encompassing my deserted life.
Unaware of the niche of bliss nestling in my heart,
I fail to discover the oasis of the gentle ambiance,
not until the debris of the wrecked lives I witness
crushed in the tempest of the tormenting times.
The teary faces of starving children on the pavement,
the stony eyes of mothers who lost their children,
the silent sighs of the destitute resigned to destiny,
all crowd in my arid wasteland with poignant pathos,
yearning to find in the quietude of their suffering
the ever-flowing fountain of divine benevolence.
Garnering the grace of God in the sanctum of soul,
the reservoir of generous humane feelings I empty
to assuage the pain of those hurt under the fallen sky,
convey God’s eternal blessing of sanguine solace
to kindle hope in the dark abyss of anguished hearts
with the consoling candle of compassion.
I’m overjoyed perceiving how positively
the deranged course of life stream can be changed
by the overwhelming power of kindness.
.
October's moving in
I can feel it on my skin.
The wind blows lightly every leaf
but brings in the cooling sheaths
pushing back
the leftovers summer beats lack;
In the quiet rush
the trees whisper, hush
calling out to all of us,
change is in the breeze;
the warm that remains
is just a hint of September games
leaning into fall residue
autumn calling in the faded hues;
colors ranging from the lime lemon blends
into the shadings of olive-brown russets
so many shadow feature ramblings
rest in the crimson carmine maroons;
the sun rises late, ambers crawling in
setting early to the harvest orange crimson
and the reawakening of the blood moon
with autumn calling a lurid dying of October from June;
October's moving in
making for winter taunts and teasing
in the constant changing of the season.
Jackie who was permanently stuck in the twos after
a childhood vaccine that was due..
Larry's addiction and prior crimes that led to his
affliction and wheel chair confine.
Bill who struggled with his c.p., only hoping that
others could see beyond his disability..
Joe whose institutional blows caused stuttering,
frustration and angry explodes..
Carol whose Asperger's left her obsessed compulsively
dialing strangers on her ex boyfriend quest..
George who got an inner thrill by chasing trash trucks
until they turned on the hill..
Phil who in public would stop and beg to touch the
calf of a woman's leg..
Barbara with her theatrical flare who craved full attention
every where..
Howard who lost his serenity when any change occured
in his vicinity..
James and his life long obsession with Marlboro lights
and fake wrestling..
Our society labels them developmentally delayed but
many were the best friends I've ever made..
I live in a town where all things go in
reverse. The bushes grow reversely,
shrink smaller back into seeds, and roll back
into the past-life seeds. The river flows
reversely, very swiftly. My friends,
my nephews and nieces, my siblings, and
my parents walk reversely, and
steadily become smaller, younger.
Helplessly, I stand, watch, and cannot grasp
things back. The brains think reversely
into the prehistory; the handwritten
pages decrease, turning reversely for
never being lost. The ruined house of the
neighbor girl is built reversely, becoming
back the house of her young days. The
voices, familiar and unknown, talk
reversely into the afternoons and
noons and nights, calling up the wronged ghost
of a priest whose enlightened shout wakes up
the legendary copperhead, which slithers
and crushes a corner of the forest. A
tornado blows reversely, peels away
the layer of sedimentary rocks,
and shows thousands of ancient cities, where
millions of bricks become new again to
build countless clusters of towers, and where
the waving hands, smiling lips, colorful
clothes, villages, crow’s cries, and flocks of birds
fly reversely into the sunshine arc.
I solely stand, lonely.
Translated into English by Phan Tan Hai
Original poem titled "Song Lui" -- written in Vietnamese by Inrasara.
i take a bite to a thing called "life"..
sweetness...
shared with friends and families
on occassions where there are joys
though it doesn't involves toys...
bitterness..
as failures, disappointments flows..
at times sanity and mind blows
for it leaves tears and sorrows...
face-to-face with these maladies..
dear, let me be your one & only lady..
i don't have silver nor gold
nor do i have a hot body or beauty..
all i can assure is my deepest sincerity..
and of a heart containing purity...
stay by my side, i'll try to abide..
lifting your downcasted hurt pride..
together, we will share a slide..
dancing on waves until relapsing tide..
i will not speak...
nor will i try to peek .
those crumbling emotions at peak..
let it fall, make them weak...
i will share my strength..
i will render my care..
i will try to shine a light..
in your world, you said to be dark..
With gladness I am drawn to a rosy dawn
and looking up to where white clouds are swirled
in heaven’s skies, I see before my eyes
the goddess of a blossoming new world.
As mountain streams come flowing, wind is blowing
her shining hair. Enchantress of the wild,
she twirls a gown of green round hills and meadows.
How beautiful is she, this woman-child!
When she disrobes to shower, fruit trees flower.
She blows a kiss, and birds begin to sing.
On whispering breeze, she sways and warms the days.
New life smells sweet. We greet the Goddess Spring.
Feb. 23, 2023
for Joseph May's "In Bloom" Poetry Contest
Entered now for 'A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE NO 1198' Poetry Contest
Be the clown,go on, turn the world upside down.
Be the one, who never thinks deeply or on humanity frowns.
Be above it all, hide your heart all you can.
You, who are so superior to the feelings of the family of man.
Be strong, grind your teeth.
Hide from the fact that one day,you, too,will be under ground with a wreath.
Be sure to hide your genuine feelings!
If open, the crowd, or those you love most, will avoid you or send you reeling.
We whine about personal, irrelavent illnesses to the sky!
It's the thing to do, I don't get here thrill of it, should I?
The world is crushing me, is all I do know.
A planet filled with fear, as our hair turns the color of snow.
A life filled with living on devices, is, utterinsanity.
Where there are no voices.
Just a motherboard of humanity.
Deep love is heard like the crashing of windows.
Turn the other way from the heart of man, that is where
tenderness blows?
There are those with hearts as warm as a fireplace.
Gather round them soon, they are the remnants of the human race.
6/30/2021