Long Bottomless Poems
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If fate opposed is useless, what great need
is there to challenge dark despair's great power
when spirit dies, and soul, mind, body bleed,
as hope wilts like a melancholic flower?
When lungs give way, and breath begins to drown,
should life and existence now become jointless,
so glory and fame (marks of the renown
that laud their pride) be futile, vain, and pointless?
But sculpting songs transforms life's dreadful deluge,
as odes calm a tempestuous, mental clime,
like a moored buoy that delivers refuge
through this apocalyptic end of time.
So, brooding minds therefore must all beware,
lest deep truths lead to bottomless despair!
For You my love's unwavering
and ample to inspire;
its passion for You burns red-hot
like a blazing bonfire.
All the year long my thoughts o'er You
captivate and free me;
they form wing-like to my caged mind
which You give liberty.
Like the vast, bottomless oceans
my warmth for You runs deep;
in its depths is my great ardor
that makes great Neptune weep.
Like Helen of Troy Your fair face
surely can launch a fleet
of a thousand ships brimming with
Greeks who'd war by Your feet.
Even Homer's rich, epic verse
cannot do You justice;
his oft-sung poetry pales near
You, my gold-maned goddess.
Were You deity of Greek myth
You'd be Aphrodite,
a numen of unsurpassed grace
and unrivaled beauty;
or Athena, goddess of wisdom,
justice, the arts and war.
As deity of lore and truth,
You'd shut ignorance's door.
On life's tempestuous seas, You'd
foreshadow bright omens
as harbinger of good fortunes,
and patron of captains.
Your rare spirit so enrapts me,
and carries me along
that the joy of Your company
compels me to new song.
I wish at last to pen, Beloved,
that what I have begun
with this poem won't be f'nished until
we're together as one!
How thou hast shaped me, and increased my life,
O Rose! Before, I was a squall, a storm
of melancholy and dark, bitter strife:
a soul already lost like a vile worm
on a dry sidewalk on a hot, sunny day.
Without hope or joy, without faith or God,
I spiraled, and at risk of losing my way,
my hateful heart thought thoughts that none can laud.
But O, dear Rose! Reformed by thee, made whole
once more by thy bottomless love and wide-browed beauty,
I am a new being fashioned by thy sweet soul,
and now transformed through thine unwavering fealty.
Rose, my storm was broken up by thy light,
so that I'm no more a worm in God's sight.
Behold magic at play within
Nectar divine bursts forth as bliss
Heart’s the centre, we go therein
Bottomless, luminous abyss
Magnetic currents pervade form
Behold magic at play within
We’re still in the eye of the storm
As dormant nodes, begin to spin
To soul’s joy and ego’s chagrin
False identity drops away
Behold magic at play within
Silent thunder, by night and day
Seeing all by spherical sight
Vaporised presence, free from sin
We be to become, living light
Behold magic at play within
16-March-2022
Magical Spell Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Buried alive by your goodbyes
Airborne dead by your senseless lies
Overcoming feelings of hurt,
Seeking first His comfort
Drenched in silence
While the waters rinses away
The dread from my head
The squalid grief left me
Breathless for only a moment,
Then it disappears instead
So sick of the sorrow
So, I’m high up in the clouds
Let me live till tomorrow
Let me avoid the endless crowds
I won't wear my usual frown
While I swim in waters of blue
And trek on grounds of brown
I am sipping the liquids of morning dew
Succumb to courageousness
I won't ascend with sadness
Repugnant rage drifts away so fast
My happiness from above is so vast
Buried alive by your goodbyes
Airborne dead by your senseless lies
Overcoming feelings of hurt,
Seeking first His comfort
I'm the prey of mere procrastination
I'm falling victim to foolish sensation
Need effulgence and a sense of relief
From this rather squalid, despicable grief
Being sorrowful is extremely pitiful
This brief grief will disappear
And become something so beautiful,
So fear not, my doubtful dear
Relieve me
Release me
Release the demons from my mind
I'm a stranger in danger from long ago,
Simply left behind…left oh so blind
I'm a loner, all alone, trying to go with the flow
Everyday, I wish
I could soar away
The bottomless anguish
Maybe it’ll be today…
It’s been far too long…way too long…
Since I've seen the light (I'll make it tonight)
Since I've knew right from wrong
I will try with my might (I'll make it alright)
"Dead leaves lay still until the wind takes them here and there: even the last flower is withered, but there is beauty in decay - Constance La France
I was the wilted flower
That you watered back to life.
You're closer than a stalking shadow
In my hour of need.
You're my light in the dark
You see the beauty in my scars.
When languishing in despondency,
You elevate my spirits
Ocean floor to mountain peak,
If not to a much loftier height
I was the wayward leaf
You caught amid a tempestuous wind,
Saving me from being lost.
I was the bird with a broken wing -
In flight - that you never let plunge
Into catastrophe like Icarus;
You cushioned my fall.
Each time I'm sucked neck-deep
Into life's bottomless abyss,
You unfailingly pull me...
Back to the surface,
Heavenly Father.
You're my ever dependable
Constant gardener;
My deus ex machina.
Writing Challenge - D Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 06/05/2023
Stone Cathedrals of Glenwood Canyon
Stone cathedral spires rise sharply from freely flowing waters -
Birthing renewal through eternity’s eyes -
Lifting up to the eternal
A psalm, a canticle, to serenade the seasons,
Singing celebration in Heaven’s waiting ear;,
Reaching down to lift up
Majestic mountain praise through hallowed halls
With lyrics of the hawk and meadowlark -
Walls decorated by the many hues of whispering aspen leaves
Fluttering in perpetual praise and clothed in cleansing rains;
No prodigal peaks
Sneaking away from the thanksgiving song
While a winding thread of chanting melody follows
The path of renewing waters,
Sounding then resounding -
Captured then released in sanctuaries of red stone
Cradling in the waiting womb ever breathing vitality
Rising upward on wings of sunlight
Shimmering with celestial awakening and the waning light;
Eternal beating pulse
Stretching up for majesty into a bottomless sky
Feeling winds of winter storms - tickling stars in moonlight;
Embracing ever new cathedrals
Formed by flowing winds and winding waters.
10/16/19
Emile Pinet - Sponsor
Give Me Your Best New Poem
Hangovers do fester as belly grumbles pester just before noon
Jesters off their head after night on the tiles painting toon red
Close to fainting need a feed must get some sustenance soon
Shirking the headache lurking adored blackboard’s been read
No takeovers.. leftovers get makeovers morning and afternoon
Grazing stable biker at formica table amazing fable we croon
Not naff no faff or fuss caffs for all us riff raffs got street cred
Within we maybe a Lord or Lady not just bumpkin or buffoon
Before you got stubble or into a lot trouble bubble were fed
No fraud smorgasbord for flawed horde who applaud swoon
In the clover.. a pig in poo.. a cat with nip skip over the moon
Working class gets a VIP pass for a scoff then it is off to bed
PVC chairs in maroon & bottomless milky sugary tea a boon
Irking folks saying that the culture to which we are wed‘s dead
Won’t let become another ruin don’t impugn like Sting in Dune
Will last as hewn from the past for cast of many a loon and goon
Whichever combo folks bacon & eggs begs for a bit of fried bread
Tireless toast stacking yokes cracking the wireless a backing tune
Raiding yesteryear clips & dips in fading memory lane trips instead
Proustian rushes sprinkle gush us luxuriating in a lush laden lagoon
Savour as kids blushes twinkle with elderly who wrinkle like a prune
The history is not really a mystery as clearly is salary and calorie led
No tycoon flush on capitalist balloon spewn from a cliched cartoon
Flavour is not as posh or plush as that tosh we see over in the Med
Not cheesy or sleazy don’t tease me lampoon our cultural cocoon
Saviour for brave knave where good behaviour does favour fortune
Are batty if thrills of a patty or natty fatty spread fills you with dread
Park your ar*e ignore Worldly farce & take it easy in a Greasy Spoon
Endless
Unbroken, never breached, eternity,
“Endless” mystery in billowing plumes of forgiveness
With mercy “bottomless” black holes of torment and terror
Turned inside out - binding “limitless” pain with love’s balm
In wells of ever flowing living spas of water
Pure “boundless” bliss,
Laughs at sovereign margins or frame edges,
Sees through the binding seams of chromatic time
Into an “infinite” interwoven undulating rhythm -
Smooth flowing circumferences of rounded Pi.
“Everlasting” untouched
By greying flesh or cataract arthritis
No boundaries for the joyful jubilant
Hand of benediction
Not bound by sunrise or sunset
Above, below, beside -
An ever swinging pendulum –
Love has no grave, nor the ever youthful soul,
Through “eternal” perfection’s clarity –
Uninterrupted song sung in "unbroken" measures
Perpetual, unending platinum flame
Pirouettes like an endless aurora
Eternal, the enduring source of ceaseless light,
Kindles ever glowing sparks of adoration -
Releases mortality to infinite glory.
Prompts: endless, infinite, everlasting, eternal, boundless, limitless, bottomless, unbroken
6-4-21
Contest: Endless Prompt
Sponsor: Constance La France
I’m an idiot; I keep bending
my feather-tipped thumb
like lumber; not limber
this knuckle bone nail
painted cheap-pink; thinks
only of ink in bottomless pit
push, press, plunk; put on
the old brace to restrain
but don’t you know; the sucker
will escape ‘cause the writer
just can’t give it a rest; useless
to try - won’t cut it off, right?!
Write!
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