Long Ceres Poems
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There would be the sisters of Jupiter,
Hera, Vesta, Ceres, of three there were.
Ceres was known the goddess of harvest.
The gods made sure they would treat her the best.
If Ceres was sad, the harvest will die.
Then the people will ask all the gods why?
Cute Proserpine, daughter of Ceres.
Seen by her uncle whilst picking berries.
Pluto was the god of the underworld.
Kidnapped her deep below kept her all furled.
Jupiter had sought Mercury for aid.
Smart son, a messenger god, thought a trade.
Proserpine ate whilst kept down below,
Eternal her stay be, scheme for Pluto,
He marries Proserpine, but he must,
Let her return for six months would be just.
Pluto, Ceres and Jupiter agreed,
Six months growth, six months none, was then decreed.
Date:06/11/2019
*Syllable Counter checked
The world’s astronomers after a tumultuous debate
have decided to reduce the number of planets to eight.
Little Pluto out in the reaches of the solar system
has been the subject of controversy and criticism.
This body orbiting out in the deep solar space void
is now classified by earth’s sky watchers as a planetoid.
Since the solar system was discovered by Copernicus,
it’s the second time something has lost planetary status.
The object named Ceres was considered as planetary,
but was lessened to an asteroid in the last century.
Some astronomers suspected another planet did dwell.
The search for “Planet X” was begun by Percival Lowell.
The orbits of Uranus and Neptune showed perturbations
by some outer unknown body pulling with gravitations.
For many years, the world’s big telescopes were aimed at the skies.
It was a long and frustrating search causing some tired eyes.
Many astronomers hoped to find this mystery body.
Clyde Tombaugh finally discovered it in 1930.
Pluto has a very large body called Charon for a moon.
A highly eccentric orbit brings it closer than Neptune.
It’s far away where our sun is shining with just a faint glow.
These are a few of the facts astronomers would get to know.
Pluto’s considered one of many things called a “Plutrino”.
It’s the largest of bodies orbiting in the “Kuiper Belt”
Reduction from planetary status is what they all felt.
Daars n ster wat op ons glinster
Gly n druppel aan die venter
Kyk die sproeiers op die lande
En voels is blomme van die hemel
Deur my dagboeke van goster blaai tor twintigste Desember
Lees dan tussen deur die lyne
Le nog stukkies van die tyding
Onthou jy nog die rede waarom jy moes weggaan
Waarom moes jy weggaan dan skuif n work daar voor die maan
Daars n Dennebos in Ceres waar ek wegkruip as dit seer is
As jy wandel deur die pyne
Wat was joune wat was myne
Ek was maar net n laaitie toe jy altyd weer moes weggaan
Teen die wolwe moes ek man staan
Ek probeer maar net verstaan
Daars n skoenlapper wat fluister
Ek verbeel my hy het kom luister
Die kokon wat jou so hinder
Jy verander in n vlinder
Grace Thompson
1894-1917
At the timbered railroad depot,
On lower Philadelphia Street,
Across from the lumber yard and the state school there,
I spent many an erstwhile afternoon,
Sitting and worrying and waiting,
Like an expectant Ceres,
For the returning equinox,
Like an agonizing Penelope,
For her long lost love,
From the ancient shores of Ilium,
Waiting and hoping in the spring rain.
And I thought a thousand thoughts,
About life and love and finally dying.
And I also thought much about my wonderful father,
My gentle fitful father,
A wayward, kind soul he was,
Who, out of the blue,
Left the town and our family behind,
Left to find greener pastures as he said,
And who promised to return,
When his oats had at last been wildly sown.
And I waited and waited,
Praying and hoping,
That the next train would at last bring,
His lovely humble smile,
His relaxed eyes, and handsome hermetic brow.
But my endless patient waiting,
Came to a halt that day in cloudy April,
My last day alive,
When again, the tremulous train arrived,
There at the timbered railroad depot,
Across from the state school and the lumber yard,
And once again, he was not on board.
And so, here I am now,
Still waiting patiently, expectantly,
In my dusty forgotten grave,
Waiting for just a single simple flower,
From the only man I absolutely adored,
To be placed upon my single simple tombstone.
The wind is whistling through the dead flower
For now all the insects have gone to sleep
Apples on the ground are becoming sour
Jumping in soggy leaves that are chin deep
Ceres just begins her months long sorrow
Her tears bring the seasons first icy rain
Eyes light up a snow day on the morrow
The floor is littered with Thomas the Train
I try to fool myself the shore so close
I can already smell the salty brine
When apple cinnamon reaches my nose
Shattering my dream calling me to dine
I bravely stare down winter's icy chill
That is as I look out the window sill
10/21/2019
New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest
Sponsered by Emile Pinet
She spoke of both Rephaim and Nakim
she spoke of them with
a fair fondness
KaI(so4)2,,12H2O
potassium alum
to make crystals and seeds
of red jasper rough
personal and confidental
refractions of beauty
they sourced
all of Ceres to
find this
might all of
Rupes and Tholi
Speak Dante as
Perfection
Haulani of Sulci
Me Es Muy Bonita
Te story comes from
Ceres Lover of all things Beautiful
the tale speak that Ceres took
berries and rubbed them
against stones
and soaked the stone in water
and drank to become drunk
there the Goddess Bossanova used his
cup to extract and become pregnant
with Ceres child. She told her
mortal husband he was the father. And Ceres found them
and made them
trolls who lived in the forest of Dante. He renamed his son
Rupes.
Written by
El Suta of Haulshuff
in 1821 inn Godbout
*Image of the enthroned Roman goddess Ceres provided by Pixabay.
Ceres, Goddess of Harvest: The Pact
Birthright rules they are Jupiter's sisters,
Hera, Vesta, Ceres, whose names glisters.
Ceres, the goddess of crop gathering,
whom the gods treat the best, no blathering.
When Ceres was sad, the harvest did die,
and the people did ask all the gods why?
Pretty Proserpine, Ceres daughter,
picking berries, her uncle did spotter.
The uncle was Pluto, and none other,
whose desires chokes empty minds to smother.
Pluto was the god of the underworld,
who had kidnapped her to his netherworld.
Proserpine met needs, kept in a dream,
ageless her stay be Pluto's fated scheme.
Jupiter sought out Mercury for aid,
a messenger god and smart son, think trade?
Proserpine marries, in turn, he must,
let her return for six months, would be just.
Pluto, Ceres, and Jupiter agreed,
six months growth, six months none, was then decreed.
2021 April 23
HMS - 10 syllables per line & RZ - exact rhymes checked
Cornish pumps
were topic
they stayed on topic till
completion
the eyes of the world are
on me to perform
one spoke
it inspires me to be more
eager to sugceed
we have frustrated our needs
to the enviroment
those times are these times
and mans need to be
see's fit for us to
to look at those antiques not as
relics or obstacles
but as guides to
reconstruct now
that we must be
in these times
our time
we must succeed and
be coraters of the next
eternal beganning
frustration and doubt
must not enter
into these talks
as they are now
a means to completion
our construction
shall be teacher
to our new tommorrow
these are the beganning of
that tommorrow
with the works of yesteryear
as our guide
6.30901964x 10-5 M5?s
FORGE AHEAD
Forge ahead, spines are steel
anger, tragedy, treachery heal
betrayal merely a step on ladders
Golden Age arises, Kali Age passes
fragrant oysters in Bloomsbury Blue
manifesting pearls for specific rings
bring garlands, soulfully sing
Dark was the night
facing polished daggers, fists tight
Herculean shoulders held mirrors
seeing shadows in hot quivers
they were mere simulation games
for false egoic fame
Enmeshed on a timeline where
we toiled taciturn to pay rent
glow and glee unnecessarily spent
numberless illusions, broken vows
struggling sorrowfully, success in the now
Love with faith lying in a mess
a necessary playing of
hide-seek schemes to loosen
toady tones, melt frozen marrow
in calcium-poor bones
Our curriculum included knowing
strategy and tactics
docile services so hectic
courage relentless coppered with marble
awaiting cosmic chisel to challenge
maidens through their drizzles
Slowly we learnt to sow
for an abundant harvest of
Ceres pipless sweet grapes
scrape skin alone, releasing gritty stones
journey solitary beaches
clearing human leeches
studying symbols from light
languages nimble
holy mantras our companion horns
realisation dawned a fresh spring morn
Life lesson upon lesson
ages come and go, as sessions
mates all part of an orchestra for
mind to microscopically mime
Soul to rise, summit a visceral
vista of primal presence wise
hopes equal whims on froth of light
seeds everywhere in skimming sight
gather them simply, plant anew
Focus fresh, a tiny platinum key cue
We are our own bromeliads
pyramids, dungeons or charnel ground
diamond within is Purity’s eternal mound
indestructibility not mortality is
Soul’s character sound
as Mantis magnifies new beginnings
know they were already sculpted to scoop
sapphires of own silvery choosing
Forge ahead, no noosing !
moonlight falls
silent on snow
frozen towering wild turns its face to ancient sea
the ocean, brooding, darkly gazes back
waves crash on rock
ink upon the shore
beneath the endless starry surface
a world of light and wonder
fall and float among the luminescence
down
down
the kingdom of giants wide awake
among deep time and eons
majestic sirens of the fathoms
call to their kin across the stars
Titan, Ceres, Europa, Earth
sisters, cetaceans, sing
Antarctic abyss keeps its secrets
hidden since creation
epoch after epoch
as it was in the beginning
is now
and ever shall be... until
we meet amongst the midnight
in distant days ahead