Long Bulwark Poems
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'Helpless' is an adjective I never thought
my hand would write to describe the despair
that's wound its way deep inside my heart.
Honestly, I'm only the catalyst of my own life,
the taproot that strengthens my mindset,
my cornerstone, my anchor, my backbone
when I wobble in the wind over matters
that I deem too serious to contemplate.
Lately, my thoughts swing back and forth,
from heights and depths, highs and lows.
My conscience cannot abide the seesaw
on which it rides up and down.
It wants to get off but can't find the right stride
to control where my troubled mind goes.
What fulcrum will serve as a bulwark for me?
Today I turn away from the bitterness and strife,
but tomorrow my mind will again pivot upon life.
I am a pendulum, swinging in the air,
but I have no counterweights to spare.
I try to bury my worries, but I still hear them chime.
There's no place to hide from a revolution.
Persecution of the innocent is a wretched crime.
What can I do to ease such chaos and lament?
I pray for Divine intervention with the intention
that God's mercy will help humankind
endure their banes and lessen their pains.
But is it His plan to save man in this way?
I've become unsure that He will intervene.
With so much folly and corruption in the world
I wonder... should I keep my sails unfurled
and take flight so that I might never see
horrors in the night and the bitter blight,
the tragedy being inflicted upon each other.
Or should I stay to fight with my brothers?
Given my druthers, there'd be no choice to make
if greed in fiendish ones, they would forsake.
What hub could serve as the center point,
a crux where minds meet to ease the tension,
and erase the apprehension in our society?
If there is an answer it has not come to the fore.
Must that mean war is the only solution?
Is there no resolution, something awesomely sublime,
to be a lever of sanity and give proper perspective
to a world standing on the edge of fanatical unrest?
I've no answer that would end the volatile upheaval
or staunch the flow of blood driven by an evil ego.
To negate the vile ones who are assailing humanity,
will take a mind shrewder than mine has to reveal.
March 8, 2022
Consciousness Fulcrum Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
The spouse betook monthly outing
today May 4th, 2022
to 3938B Ridge Pike,
Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426.
No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread,
plus other sundry provisions
referring to this mister, who
frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
ruler of roost,
plus the missus – ole hen pecker
nevertheless, neither of us
ain't no spring chicken
being locked within crosshairs
constituting elderly stage,
she doth dread
feeling like a charity case
swallows her pride,
cuz ample carload for us,
alleviating this bum searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus raw bits of powdermilk biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...
substantial commestibles
allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,
that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) drive wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.
Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,
yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process
despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter
our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.
Healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance
versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
to preferred market such as
Aldi, LIDL, Redner's, Target
or Trader Joe's grocery shopping
to the nearest town.
Wordsmith's Veneration...
Aye willy nilly understate (trying 2)
tantalize, hypnotize, galvanize...
with "FAKE" trumpeting
spellbinding, rambling, quivering...
intoxicating, hallucinating, gyrating,
stop to take a breather...
English Language vocabulary, a
fascination, intoxication, provocation...
upon me ocular, neurological, mental...
faculties of this nattering nabob
from outer limits of twilight zone
i.e. literary krazy Jewish jabberwocky
issuing haphazard global toll till
fallout exacting deserved damn
cratering nascent (inchoate) career
digitally/electronically bi:
ne'er re: carpet bombing
away upon modus operandi, sans
sesquipedalian shrapnel strafes wrought
realization literary scaffolding
complex edifice thought
out in mind of yours truly,
not popularly sought
opportunity to experience
rush of excitement,
asper choice winner equals naught
inexorable effort to cobble innovative
linkedin words disappointment fraught
submissions witness polite declinations
attesting, lamenting, regarding poetic
expansive glommed language, unlikely
success tubby brought
adulation, commendation, enunciation...
fades into afterthought.
Ablest adept adroit aficionado
applauded aspiring authors accorded
absolute badge because
brevity brews brilliant burnished
bravado bubbling budding bulwark
captivatingly collates, communicates,
constitutes conveys avast literary
Grand Canyon chiseled, sans scribe's
Colorado devoid, asper driven desperado
contrariwise, through prevalent
persistent pinterest proclivity,
plus plethora pronounced propensity
resoundingly regaling readers
re: raffish ridiculous rumination
renders endeavor incommunicado
diligent doggedness ironically -
dampens dueling dynamic dud
dutifully dramatically diminishing
divine dream deemed darling
distinguished doodling I sip
prose poe hit tick drafter
equally or exceeding
prospects envisioning El Dorado,
thus this Neanderthal sites his lumbering
lugubrious trademark, an
immediate attribute sensing
missive heading directly
to Davy Jones locker
dead reckoning deep virtual
waters of cyber sea!
You are my beacon in the darkness
the bulwark and seawall which protect my shore
the lamp which pierces the stormy waters
that surround me
I navigate the deep with the course you set for me
your spirit moves the directions and maps
the destinations
Our cargo is precious and obtained
from many nations whose purchase was
a kings priceless ransom .
You calm the tempests with your orders
our counselor and captain of our salvation
you have lifted us from deep waters
rescued us from from the windstorms and squalls
guided us to warm beaches and the coastlines
filled with pleasant fruit
sheltered us from the ravages of dark natures
covered us richly from all your storehouses.
You have smoothed the surface of the great seas
for a passage through them
I exalt in your wisdom and radiance
Your presence and advice is always true
You take measure and correct our crossings
Your observations conduct the setting of our sails
and conveyed our bearing and carriages .
My soul rejoices in all your orders
for they are the buttress and stronghold
for all that you have delivered to us .
You are resplendent in all your ways
unsurpassed in your excellence
and worthy to receive the honors
and devotions of all those loving you .
You are the air that fills our sails
the brightest star in our nights
the Son which illuminates our days .
I magnify your name oh Lord
above all those known to men .
amen come Captain of Salvation
Your Word is fathomless
an anchor to our souls
Is 9:6
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and
the government will be on his shoulders. And he will
be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Acts 4:12
Salvation is found in no one else, for there is
no other name under heaven given to
mankind by which we must be saved.”
Heb 1:3
The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact
representation of his being, sustaining all things
by his powerful word. After he had provided purification
for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.
COPYRIGHT © 2015
PoetryofProvidence
C Michael Miller?
Through midnight of thoughts, where silences dance,
Confessing love is like the whisper of a lost comet,
In the web of my fate, only a stray star could rise,
You are that star which turns every moment in my night into myth.
To adore you, is to delve into the depths of an ocean of signs,
Seeking answers among reefs where light is shattered, worn down,
It's as if I'd pen epistles on the wings of marine waves,
Where the echo of loneliness awaits me, offering solace.
In the heart of a forgotten dream, a bulwark against the shatter, stands our longing,
It's the volcano that emerges from the depth, its visage hidden in the earth,
Carrying within a chorus of angels falling, pure burning, white star,
In their lava, I seek to measure infinity, a spring of unholy yearning.
The word that might soothe, to bring verdure to dreams,
Is soft and stirring like the growth of the cedars by nightfall,
In their shade, there you are, vibrating with a chorus of leaves, a system of dreams,
And in the dusk of these shells, my flight lays resting, waiting, sifted through dreams.
The orbit of fate, the path we've chosen, intertwining our story,
Is a chain of worlds, traversed by our eternal, bitter crossings,
My brown eyes, the sadness is the crumbled moon, you are my heart,
That in the silvery clarity, with a hint of starlight, you stretch out, a white realm in our sky.
To be mad, in this labyrinth of days, an oracle deciphered,
Who among us got lost in between the seven days, too hurried,
Only to find that Monday is full of Sundays and all remains unstarted or failed beginnings,
Shared in thought, yet separate in the arms of a consensual destiny.
A signal, an invitation into this temple of your silence in song,
Let's place our breath in response, to learn the soulful alphabet of the seas,
Through the daring and tender kiss, somewhere between heaven and earth,
Freeing me as a hostage in neutral days, in a Thursday that retains the fervor of flights.
Psyche soaking wet with devout atheism,
this lifetime skeptic now tenuously
linkedin with Unitarianism
attests, said upbringing proffered,
mine credo, gestalt,
leitmotif, sans abstractionism
eludes elucidation, delineation, clarification...
some readers might
dismiss as absurdism
defying established dogma fixed absolutism
millenniums, would be hashtagged heretical,
and such cavalier blithe
apostasy, declared alarmism,
now - twenty first century
extant accursed as alcoholism
within various non
Western statecraft enclaves,
barely tolerating agnosticism
no fool to ejaculate
proclamations antithetical opinionism
where condemnation to death
(I obediently, humbly, and gladly accept)
inadequate punishment,
cited on par relegated to alienism,
amoralism, antiestablishmentarianism...
never does this anachronism
loosely cabled with pioneerism,
(when virgin forests bedecked America),
a veritable wilderness, necessitated
quintessential self survivalism
knowhow long since forgot,
which dependence on consumerism
finds yours truly afflicted against capitalism
commercialism, conformism, cultism et cetera
more aligned with reliance on individualism
nearly an extinct species,
where anti materialism
betrays, cavils, and discourages ecocentrism,
versus profit motive maximization,
though of late environmental dynamism
aggressive representative thank you
Greta Ernman Thunberg regarding criticism,
nee opprobrious global ecological terrorism
mandating staunch defeatism
as stave bulwark
against criminal determinism
to wreak irrevocable traitorous dogmatism
predicated on tenets of egocentrism
brewed, steeped, and
galvanized in exceptionalism
of *****sapiens and expansionism
exclusive to said primate
that requires serious assessment,
asper bracketing craven
doctrinairism edified fundamentalism
granting humans unfettered expansionism!
No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread
referring to this mister, who
frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
plus the missus
also ain't no spring chicken,
being locked within crosshairs
elderly stage, she doth dread
ample carload for us,
alleviating this bum searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus powdermilk raw bits of biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...
substantial commestibles
allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,
that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.
Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,
yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process
despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter
our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.
healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance
versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
grocery shopping
to the nearest town.
The wait seemed eternal to feel inspiration.
Minutes were mountains as each one ticked by,
my hand poised grasping a pen, and then
seated without hitting one stroke on a key.
A closed mind submits nothing, zero and zilch
in a life that's been deeply anchored
in the annals of an abyss shrouded by opacity.
Somewhere between midnight's noirs
and the misty grey flow of morning fog,
I'd fallen into a cavern, deprived of light.
I'd built a bulwark fortress that fenced me in
and the key to my cell... held in my own hand.
I brandished a pen that became a sharpened sword
that hacked and sliced at my every written word.
My dreams were gone, along with life's sensation.
No wonder I could not find a cause for inspiration.
A poet who doesn't write is of no use, none at all.
I stood at the edge of a cliff ~ should I jump or fall?
Sounds of laughter caught the attention of my ears
and through eyes blurred by tears,
I saw children running along the water's edge.
Hesitant, I decided to watch them from upon the ledge.
I sat atop the cliff with legs overhanging that day,
wishing I was a child of ten again to join in their play.
"Well, poet," spoke my muse. "Are you a withered bloom?"
A scolding for thinking of naught but notions of doom
A flurry of fussing she threw at me, hassling like a Harpy.
Exactly what I needed for living in doldrums of gloom.
"Now, see what you've done," she was decidedly terse!
"Your burden is that you always begin in free verse
but always end up writing lines ending in rhyme.
You continually do that. Time after time."
My laughter was louder than the children at play
who stopped traipsing in the surf to look up my way.
A wave of my hand and down to the beach I ran.
Inspiration filling me like waves crashing upon the sand.
As I wander through this verdant vale, the zoo's secrets unfold like a tapestry of forgotten tales. The lion's languid pose is a sonnet of laziness, a fetish of the familiar, where comfort's gentle chains bind us to the status quo. His mane, a fiery halo, screams of burning desires, but the flames that fuel them have dwindled to embers, extinguished by the frothy waters of indulgence.
Nearby, the tigress stalks, a stalker of shadows, her stripes a whispered warning of the power that lies in restraint. Her eyes, bright lanterns in the darkness, light the path of resistance, guiding us through the labyrinth of compromise. She is the velvet glove of violence, soft-spoken yet unyielding, a reminder that even in the most tranquil of landscapes, a storm brews, waiting to unleash its fury upon the complacent.
The crocodile, a creature of stealth, lurks in wait, a patient predator, its jaws a merciless metaphor for the ways we devour ourselves, trapped in a cycle of consumption and decay. Its scaly hide is the hardened shell of our own vulnerabilities, protecting us from the very forces that drive us to chaos. We are the predators, and the prey, locked in a deadly dance, each step a minefield of destruction, each breath a hushed warning of the wormhole that yawns beneath our feet.
And in the shark tank, the elites glide, their armored bodies a bulwark against the tides of change, their fins a waltz of domination, orchestrated by the gears of power. They are the smash-and-grab merchants of opportunity, snatching what little treasure lies within reach, leaving the rest to rot in the shallow end. The water, a mirror of their own reflection, distorts our sense of self, warping our perceptions of the abyss that stares back at us, a funhouse mirror of our own making and we adore it.
At every turn in time, I wish to live the best dream
The best wish everyone could have
That caress the precious grace per luck
Which colors achievement
And can be counted on as reinforcement cum hard work
Which pave ways, wings soar peacefully
That bottoms sit back to reminisce,
Counting blessings worthy of thanksgiving
Many are dreams you once had in gleam
The ones that would've continue to live
But with the dragging of time, you chuck
Thinking when will you be old enough to have its fulfilment
Despite all the prayers you build like a bulwark
Just as the sun fuels the moon's speed
And its light determines its brightness
The florals get human lives' breath feed
And beautifies environment and its forthrightness
Dreams cage plans towards fulfilment
And bless efforts for passions many rewards
Goal is the root of focus connecting achievement
Aiming high at globally recognized awards
I once wish to be a doctor
For the sake of saving lives
But one thing I admired most
Is the smart look of the uniform
On the ones I have come across
I can't figure out how I become a proctor
Many are lazy students I practically forgives
Who have over the years been undiagnosed
And abandoned for the higher institution to reform
How will they be able to bear the cross?
At a point in life, I wanna become a football player
Either I get to feature or not, no cease payment
The profession I referred to as "money making machine"
More than any other on weekly basis
To get life going well visiting places
At another point, I wanna be a bricklayer
Who has never been exposed to an underpayment
But they spend much on colchicine
To make sure the system is active
Then watch to avoid being addictive