Long Carefully Poems
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I understood you in your silence, an ocean of ice under mute stars,
where the shadows of time weigh heavily, a mountain of unspoken ash,
your struggles, heavy curtains, hide cries of a shattered heart,
shards of fallen stars, scattered on fields forgotten by the wind.
Your nights, sleepless, just broken mirrors in which you get lost,
you see yourself and no longer know who you are, a wounded soldier under a dew armor,
moving forward, for the war never sleeps, and the world demands you to be whole,
when you are merely fragments, a crystal vessel broken in silence,
an empty church, deserted by angels, with walls whispering extinguished longings.
Your scars, maps of pain on thin porcelain skin,
unspoken wounds, covered with petals of time and forgetting,
you flinch when love flies toward you, a bird scared by shadows,
unsure if the hand reaching out will caress you or bind you in chains.
Your eyes close at "I love you," echoes of broken promises,
hands that vanished into mist, voices lost in the emptiness of morning,
when you cried out, and your heart, a desert, awaited a response that never came.
But if I hadn't read the architecture of your pain, built from dried tears,
from dreams buried under slabs of cold, I wouldn't have known how to love you,
not to fix you, not to glue the pieces with the patience of a watchmaker,
but to carefully hold in my palms the broken treasures of your soul,
your withered flowers, your broken songs, smiles frozen in time,
yellowed photographs, loves carried away like smoke in the late autumn wind.
I keep them as sacred relics of a storm-beaten soul,
yet beautiful, for it knows how to love, to hope, to rise from the ashes.
You are a breathing miracle, a poem written every day,
with every step, with every wound, with every yearning that refuses to die,
and I love you not for what you were, but for what you are: a fragile light,
burning under a heavy sky, an unspoken, eternal verse of hope.
Today in a cobweb I found a butterfly
I think its helpless fluttering was why it caught my eye
Carefully I freed it from the spider’s ravages
It gave a sneaky grin and headed for my cabbages
Today I caught a rat in a catch n release trap
I took it to a copse that I’d located on a map
I let it go and thought it would have run away or hid
It turns out that the rat got home some time before I did
Today I nearly caught the mole that’s digging up my lawn
I got up nice and early but it must have heard me yawn
That little five inch terrorist is digging up the yard
That I can’t get a spade into because the ground’s so hard
That was the final straw, I should’ve let those critters die
I tried to catch the butterfly which flew up to the sky
Then something made me happier than I’d been in a while
On my green beans a caterpillar gave me quite a smile
The light evening meal
Served under moon and stars,
Flickering candlelights whilst
Writing our memoirs.
Classical music;
Beauty to my ears,
Gazing up to Venus, Mars,
Thinking biospheres.
Accidentally tapping me
Underneath the table,
Glimpsing in my eyes
Like you’re ready and you’re able.
The buzzer sounding beeping
We both place down our ink,
A time to relax and
Not to over-think.
Carefully pour the wine
Smooth fruity chardonnay,
Happy cheers in unison
Homemade herb bread on tray.
Bread it tastes so earthy
Enjoying much to nibble;
Bread it is so yummy
Smiles, Winks…giggle.
Beginning on the soup
You made for me with care,
Organic hot tomatoes
OBSTRUCTION lack of air…
From Your human hair!!!
You just sit there on your lawn chair,
And glare and stare.
I want to swear and swear…
Though I’m choking and in in
In the middle of nowhere!!!
As I was reading Red Fish Blue Fish One Fish Two Fish to a bunch of bouncy kindergarteners
I could not help but feel pleased at their attentiveness. They were mesmerized. Was it my voice, my cadence, just the fact that they loved me?
I was not sure until I gave them the coloring sheets.
All ran to their tables shrieking with delight except Lulabelle.
Lulabelle walked up to me and began twirling the red and purple pompoms on my sweater.
My sweater that had two clowns on it and a bunch of different colored pompoms in a
juggle formation.
I held my breath until she had finished,
then I ran for some scissors, and snipped off the red and purple pompoms.
If I had been more cognizant or had looked in a mirror a bit more carefully,
I might have realized where these pompoms had landed.
You have already figured it out, right?
contrary to
conformity
finding com
fort in in divi
duality she's
the redhead
in canada
that uses
her words
carefully
and her
pen as
an anvil
knowing
which word
even before
writing it down
what shape it will
take maybe a
razor sharp
blade of
a haiku
katana
or simply
to wait for
the weight
of a twist of
her wrist and
end a poem while
brandishing in hand
a Scots broad sword
but haven't you heard
that a sculptor can
size a marble
stone no
matter
the size
by touch
knowing if
this is where
an arm will be
then all falls into
place proportionately
placing an arm
at arm's length
and the waist not
to waste a single
chip of chisel to take
away the balance of what
figure that is figured out to
be even to the tiniest detail
so as Michelangelo
lay on top of the
stone that he
knew would
become
David
he runs
and rubs
his hands
over what will be
come a young
man's ribs
and down
lower his
mind al
ready
sees
what
people
will talk
about for
centuries
of mankind
and manhood
Form:
Saiko no keki
------------------------
Use the egg yolk separator to remove the egg white from the yolk. I always crack the egg in a separate bowl to ensure any broken eggs will not contaminate the bulk of the whites.
It is not possible to separate all the whites from the yolks. However, there should not be a trace of yolk in the white as it will hinder the expansion while making the meringue.
4. Making the batter
Lightly beat the egg yolks and add to the flour-butter-milk mixture. Again, I have tried to add the egg yolks in batches to the mixture, but it makes no difference compared to pouring all the yolks in one go.
The egg yolks will dilute the paste further into a batter. It is at this time that you need to mix it thoroughly. I mean to mix it, not to beat it, as beating will create air bubbles that are not a welcome inclusion to the cotton-like texture.
2. Add the milk
2. Add the milk
Add 60ml (4 tablespoons) of milk to the flour-butter mixture. You may pour all the milk into the mixture or add in batches. It will not make any difference to the result.
The milk will dilute the flour-butter mixture to form a thick paste.
3. Separate the egg yokes from the egg whites carefully
To form the batter, we must add the egg yolks to the flour-butter-milk paste above.
She considered making it in a round cake pan
cooking cooling and slicing it in half
and adding a cream cheese frosting and adding a carrot cake in the center.
frosted with a rich buttercreame frosting
and decorated for the occasain
Like silent sentries in a row
dock pylons await our arrival.
It is low tide, as I step onto the gangway.
Crusty barnacles cling tenaciously
to the pylons, while salt water
laps the rocky shoreline.
A lanky blue heron carefully picks its way
between the fingers of the dock.
The cool breeze picks up
making the boats bob to and fro.
Halyard lines clang
against the masts of sailboats
while weather vanes turn toward
the prevailing northwest winds
The pungent smell of sea salt air
and the cool mist upon my face
evoke thoughts of escape
and high sea adventures.
As ocean breeze wafts gently
I close my eyes, inhale the fresh air
and give myself over to the sea.
He ignored the warning signs and moved carefully forward and backward
In the rocking chair of swept memories and went for a wild white knuckle ride
Swayed but not faltering although he swung like a junky on amphetamine pills
Soaked in recollections gathered momentum and made dents in the floor boards
He pictured himself as a young man courting his sweetheart and kissed the bride
Life had dealt him difficult cards but he had upped his game in the view of defeat
Made allowances for bad hands and survived depression divorce and uncertainty
Valued his shortcomings and turned obstacles and flaws into forces of challenge
Photographs trinkets newspaper clippings and baby shoes swished past in a flash
A rollercoaster adventure of vertigo and nausea but also of thrilling escapes
Parachuting down abysses cliff diving and bungee jumps into a red-hot volcano
Confined to a nursing home he refused to accept the dumping ground it seemed
His conscience was clear but that signalled that truths were merely impermanent
And the subconscious tends to rest below an iceberg of prominent falsifications
Like laundering imperfection with fabric softener on kind collages and tapestry
Photo-shopping was before his time but he knew to cut and paste with his mind
Racing thoughts and blustering emotions collected on the windscreen of his soul
First pay packet for an old Enfield motorcycle then traded for an Austin Minor
Redundancy after the miner’s strike and still both his children made it to College
Some say it’s been a junk yard but he fathoms recycling for future generations
26th October 2019
Your eyes a dark archipelago
Mysterious then exotic drifting across
my shore;
I perceive their warmth inviting
While those lips blow a tangy flavour-
Irresistible, poised to reach for a kiss
Brewed by the kiln of summer’s
ember…
Carefully, my logic examines the
prospects
Between reason and wantonness,
As the fluid air spins amorously
And the evening grows too blind,
naked--
The waves within my navel dilate,
fluid as current's unknown motion...
I forget what happens next except, I
was
Drunk with the body- rhythm of something
untenably spontaneous;
Coasting on a body outside a bend
ebbing flowing through a belly and
tendon
Of a conniving sea.
Nearly all things
pertinent to life
are dispensed
in measured
finite quantities
money
clothing
shelter
food
water
oxygen
even relationships
and our life itself
in precious drops
moments
of time
So, thrift in
nearly all things
is merely a logical use
of these resources
in appreciation
of their value
their basic
necessity
to our
survival
But even frugality
can go too far-
when it becomes
a competition
us against them
a vicious fist-fight
in the bargain-bins of life
when it makes us afraid
that there's not enough
to 'go around'
robbing us of compassion
or understanding
or greater vision
when it destroys our ability to
hope for better things
withholding the means to
achieve our most
important dreams
it becomes counterproductive
to its very purpose...
By all means, use your life
and all that you have carefully
gratefully and mindfully
but in all your various economy-
always remember to
spend your dreams lavishly
and spare no kindness