Long Ceding Poems
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Sculpting tinges periwinkle, eventide paints on arc of ruby skies,
Sunset dreams of freezing eve, longing warmth of moonrise;
As realms gelid waltz, where light-beams with shadows dance,
Shuddering boughs, quivering vistas, swaying barren expanse.
Prairies frozen glimmer, resplendence of pristine falling snow,
Where decaying colors of fall, in remnants of autumn glow,
When twinkling cosmic rivers, on tapestries of Milky-Way flow,
As frosty moonlight glistens knolls, of shivering terrains aglow.
Quietude dwells in grip of winter, where lakes and rivers froze,
Where beauty shines reflecting light, gleaming blustery woes,
Of shorter days, of time glazed, mellowed in golden sunshine,
Ceding to lingering nights, glinting in glamor of heavens divine.
"The amount of good luck coming your way depends on your willingness to act". Quote by Barbara Sher
______________________________________________________________
Whispers of disobedience float in the air.
A challenge beyond the conformity snare
An inability or refusal to shift or comply
However, awareness stirs—a probing stare.
Prejudice dances with arrogance—and defy
Forcefulness quality—firm fervor to untie.
Rebellion and lack of collaboration clash.
Invest in openness—it's time to stroll and fly.
Refusal and firmness oppose ceding or crash.
Willfulness, otherwise, is wisdom gained to dash.
Mastery gives way to mystery—humility to adore.
As the spirit discovers its own rhythm and flash.
When you act from the depths of your soul's core.
You sense a river flowing—a delight you can't ignore.
Award-winning is optional, as has been shown.
However, the drive to prevail is a factor to explore.
Vocation isn't from having a strong will alone.
It involves listening and finding your unique tone.
The dance of will and stubbornness—a path of dread
A delicate equilibrium, a magnificent finesse throne
So let your resolve lead you—push you ahead.
Listen for the hushed voice of willingness instead.
For in the rhythm of these two, a dance to adjoin
Therein is the beauty of growth—wisdom to be said.
Let us, therefore, accept both sides of the coin.
The determination and commitment to join.
In the dance of avarice and openness line.
We uncover our true glory, our inner enjoin.
In the vast symphony of life's grand design
Willpower and flexibility dance—intertwine.
Because it is at the junction of these two.
That we find our essence and its true sign.
1st place contest winner
Here on the cusp of all things, is where I succumb
Ceding my stuff blindly, toward oblivion and none
Unwilling to persevere, without a modicum of fun
Listing in perpetual stasis, til the spasm’s undone
And yet a god may save me, or a talisman of love
Some prophet of euphoria, quelling ennui thereof
Placing good tidings, into a universal equation
Edifying eternity…..revealing its exact duration…..
Alas he speaks in riddles, and treads a mobius strip
Each cycle forming a twist, convoluting his trip
Determined I follow, my awareness in collapse
Narrow-mindedly stumbling into mortality traps
Now I sense the endgame, but decline to exalt
Its a distortion, an abortion, a cataclysmic fault
Chance meeting with a nihilist, yields positive results
Unable to see past zero, he reveals nothing but cults
Here on the cusp of all things, is where I begun
A contorted brain-f*ck, had no choice but to come
A demon of clarity, with an open ended measure
One who gives to please, but prefers taking pleasure
To believe for one moment, I’d live off a dying spark
Only denies potential, when again life goes dark
With more light to come, my sunglasses prepared
Eternity’s not polarised, just infinitely layered
If a blind man articulates, I’ve seen all this before
Screaming and convinced “I’m a seer at my core”
Could be he’s mistaken, or deluded with Déjà vu
Begs his final question, “do I have a point of view”?
our God is bountiful because
Jesus is Robin Hood turning the tables in the forest temple
and Friday treasures an island of hope in my child’s mind
‘you can be a pirate as long as you don’t turn a blind eye’
patches up sorrow and heartache tattooed in its wisdom
bountiful when the snake shares a candy apple with Newton
as everything hangs in the balance of gravity’s fallen sword
when you remove the splinter from blind sighted cataracts
before asking for a new lens without polishing your view
bountiful when kind men from Mars soothe night terrors
because aliens are friends and ride on Dinosaur’s wings
the world becomes as you see it in the light of your dreams
and the chocolate bar holds coconut filling every now and then
bountiful when the cross rots away and nails get a grip onto
new pastures and the sweet tasting promise of sacred droplets
for tears are washed away in the face of anger ceding to faith
and water baptizes the soil for small seeds to nourish the soul
bountiful when the cocoa smeared lips’ immaculate smiles
prepare innocence for that hardship of life bearing the fruit
of patience resolve and happiness that derives from the source
and chews at the gnawing feeling of doubt until it melts away
our God is bountiful because …
11th November 2020
It's always been an uncanny pleasure of mine,
To behold the tetchy affair that thrives between
A gregarious man and his choice crimson wine;
For each loves and loathes in equaled measure.
How both meticulously give and evenly take
To seal the crack that coerced giving claims,
Each ceding ground and forgoing their cake;
And daily perpetuate these love-hate games.
Firstly as the wistful man uncorks the shields,
You'd guess he'll guard the control he wields;
But when the foamy guest oils that willing gut,
Our bloke capricious grows and red eyes shut.
Consensus is drawn and he should grab more,
For buck's there and calling home stands near;
Just a daring thought and some spoiling for war,
For the world's sick and all stationary objects go.
You own it's a profound sight quite rare and fine,
To meet daring men and their dear crimson wine.
Life's course is ever-changing on our earthly journey in the sun
You place youngiest ones in the rear so family can protect them on the run
As the speed we move increases through the curves and down the straight
We expect to lose the elder ones because of this life's many twists of fate
Years go fast, I'm the driver, steering my family over slopes and thru the curve
I teach, guide, protect and control their destiny, while just trying not to swerve
Fearless with Faith in the Fathers wisdom, I put my families fate into his hand
When I saw my child's life in danger, I wasn't afraid to act and take a stand
Ceding control of our path to God, thru prayer, was not a twist of fate
Spiritual strength, Faith our prayers are heard by family within Heaven's gate
The "Great Spirit" steers our course with love as he protects us from all pain
Faith gives this driver strength to steer the path for his family that still remains
I Steer true and help all we meet, to strengthen their faith, without a swerve
Through my many years of driving, I seek answers to life, in all that I observe
I may never find answers to his purpose in lessons I learned living day to day
Maybe my next life, reveals a purpose why my journey had to be that way
In my future, I find strength in memories of family whose life has past
Making me steer true, thru curves and straights, memories of family in the cast
Undulate on burbling rivers rushing to meet sea,
Buoying spring’s hilarity, ceding to summer’s plea;
Marvel on wings of autumn as falling colors spree,
Rejoice pristine snowflakes adulating winter’s glee;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Sail on crest of tides where summer ebbs and flows,
Guide autumn’s journey thrilling season of snows,
Whether lauding sunshine or twilight in shadows,
Whether in blazing colors or woes of wintry throes;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Despair not in shudder of shivering naked trees,
For autumn decaying in clasp of wintry freeze,
Sows the seeds sprouting exuberance of spring,
Where, serenading renewal, doting robins sing;
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
Alas! soon blossoms wilt, autumn’s revelry ends,
And unseen remains future where tomorrow bends,
So, grab your today and let its winter day-dream
In the seasons of youth, fond memories redeem.
Waltz with every season strumming life’s themes,
On mountains, in valleys, on prairies, or streams,
Waxing or waning, dreaming beauteous dreams.
July 13, 2022
The Time Between the Seasons Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Axed dent of circumstances
finds yours truly liberated,
whereby no obligatory constraints
obliges forcible adherence
synchronizing Circadian rhythm
forcibly linkedin within paradigm
minutely crafting, daisy chaining
involuntarily ceding cradle to grave
man made artificial construct
(dismissing one living away
off the gridlock)
co-opting every precious moment
comprising hour quotidian existence
to sustain swiftly styled
harry tailored lifestyle
affording bajillion *****sapiens
luxury to scold frantic scramble,
freedom to scurry frantically
twenty four seven madcap rat race
formerly existing (millenniums ago)
as "noble savage"
ah...remember those glory days
now, grudgingly,
niggardly... unwittingly
compromising pleasant dreams
jarring deeply slumbering
body electric groggily awake
liberty, courtesy alarming wake up
to toil away making dem
big dearly beloved bucks
essentially entering holy grail
searching made more worthwhile
thankless fracas, fray, fraught
pitting one beasty boy against t'other
survival of fittest in overdrive
(Charles Darwin taken aback),
how origin of most ruthless species
went a courtin for dazzling,
jazzy, regal trappings
supposedly to ease
grueling laboring mind numbing
lumpenproletariat, when after
devoting, sacrificing, venerating...
prime mating years
take respite, and
hire oneself out
as independent contractor,
versus sedately pathetic mundane...
you bet your life
in relation to this
self ostracized scrivener.
November breezes in with style
Autumn zephyr carries a smile
Multihued leaves, they float around
Before dancing down to the ground
Hope flames high on smoky bonfire
Melting out hatred's dark desire
November dreams make it worthwhile
Autumn rakes up the leaves that pile
Gold and bronze and russet abound
Chromatic colours sure astound
Love burns in our humble heart's pyre
Kindling faith when we most require
November knows Winter's hostile
Therefore it lets Autumn compile
Various patterns on leaf mound
Dazzling the eyes, while we're spellbound
Life plays under God, the dyer
Before ceding to snowy mire.
10.29.2020
Checked with www.howmanysyllables.com
For William Kekaula's "Lay November" contest
Like a dedicated sentinel standing high,
Vowing to protect and serve,
The old lighthouse stood proud and firm,
Intent her domain she'd preserve-
Ferocious winds incessantly howled,
Beckoning for her to fall,
The old lighthouse stood proud and firm,
Ignoring Mother Nature’s call-
Shattering waves pounded her sides,
Weakening the earth below,
The old lighthouse stood proud and firm,
Fighting each savage blow-
At last the siege came to its end,
Reluctantly ceding away,
The old lighthouse stood proud and firm,
Victory was her prize today-
written for Sentinel contest on 4/7/16