Long Cisterns Poems
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Barren, sterile sky bleat and sigh
Open your canopy, enlighten our eye
Expose the boundless mysteries that in your realms lie
Reveal your majestic, azure panels on high
Bleed your sappy, snowy cisterns dry
Unmask spirits that in your porous rotunda fly
From your lofty lattitudes carefully apply
Brightly-hued colors that will broadly imply
Beauty and luster to those who your pleated seams ply
Your grand mosaic with hope and promise tie
Bond light and love to uplift hearts that on your fealty rely
Bountiful, beaconing sky so fertile so spry
Shelter our dreams and drown our cry
With our aspiring visions gratuitously ally
The Fountain of Living Waters flows,
Ready to quench our thirst,
Why do ye hew out broken cisterns?
Broken cisterns that burst;
Drink from the Fount and be satisfied,
It will become a well,
Water springing to eternal life
From your being will swell.
Syllable count: 9.6.9.6
Written on 8th January 2023
Jeremiah 2:13 - For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.
John 4: 13,14 - Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again:
But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.
After the aftermath
of the cisterns quieting,
a moth flutters free
then drops into the nest
of sounds that crickets weave.
all of our away-words
wait the gathering of ground.
between our usual state
of lost and found.
we hesitate in leisure,
presuming to douse our thoughts
with memory’s perfume,
intoxicate our wilderness
with stupor,
known to render children mad
and madmen to surrender.
Some call us, pretender.
So light a breeze upon us
one could scratch to catch
a tick of something licking
at the bottom of your mind.
You cannot find a trace.
It has no face.
Some believe it has no place.
There is no there from where
you feel you are
and though you wish upon a star
or carry moonbeams in a jar
no ordinary miracle can reach that far.
For far is work, when close is easy;
now and then are whence;
and where you were
is where you are;
all else
is just pretense.
To Divine Wisdom And Guidance In Poetic Rendering
Despite today’s debilitating oppressive flows,
We must continue to pen the loving way to go:-
We must continue to uplift and stream inspirations;
Guiding us all towards the destiny of His will’s desire:-
We must indeed, continue to scripture along with our
Good Books;
Not replacing them—but with them—putting our world
Into perspective:-
Let us ever endeavor to ensure that our gifted cisterns
Will forever flow
With given divine wisdom and guidance—peacefully
flowing—
With healing inspiration and awareness—overflowing into
Waiting cups & saucers—
For all to drink and sip words of peace and love in the onederful
Oneness of our onement:-
Thus, this be where I am, my dear beloved beautiful poetry
Extended family,
As you daily overflow my grateful cup and saucer with your healing
Divine wisdom and guidance;
Thanks for the enlightening inspiration that you continue to provide in
Poetic labors of love;
I continue to pray and hope that in some small way, I too, have been as you
Continue to be:-
From cold, distant hearts frigid
air doth circulate
Downy blanket no longer the
surface can insulate
Icy stares a corrosive wind
doth instigate
A sheltering family no longer
the gale can mitigate
Frostbitten minds numbed to
their pending fate
Emotive cisterns once gushing
with joy now frozen, stagnate
Frosty touches cause tender
limbs to degenerate
Thick, dreary clouds hover;
fleeting hopes oscillate
A rolling fog descends;
foundational dreams obfuscate
Fallowed ground fertilized by
acrimonious debate,
Allowing only seeds of malice
to germinate
Lacking a steady compass the
barren expanse to navigate,
Two, intemperate souls from
winter's chill hibernate
A stale frond whose limp veins
are now desiccate
“The Fountain of Living Waters flows,
Ready to quench our thirst,
Why do ye hew out broken cisterns?
Broken cisterns that burst;
Drink from the Fount and be satisfied,
It will become a well,
Water springing to eternal life
From your being will swell.”
Here’s my soul seeking for contentment
From the ultimate Source
I come to God Who suffices best
Blessing with downpour force.
Here’s my heart needing fulfillment gain
Christ alone grants so free
From divine wealth of grace, love and peace
Surpassing wants midst glee.
Here’s my spirit thanking the Saviour
For Living Waters* gain
Refreshing faith with triumphant glow
Along service-terrain.**
*John 4:13-14 Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.
**Last three stanzas are added to Jo Daniel’s first two stanzas.
April 11, 2023
2nd place, "Collab with Jo" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Joanna Daniel; judged on 5/2/2023.
Beyond the cabin walls
a shimmering molt of starlight
brushes brilliance
over my black drenched car.
Snowflakes fall
disappear
then appear to float up
on weightless whisps
breathed out
from inky cisterns.
A chill window reflects,
it takes my picture
through a fisheye lens.
Behind me,
a log fire cracks and chirps.
The room chirrs warmly
like a fiddle in a ghost camp.
I turn to look at where I live
see only yesterday still unpacking.
Something in the timbers
creaks through listening ears,
a softy shuffling rumor
trails hollowly
like whispers in an empty clock,
but its just the wood
speaking its mind.
I think about future nights
here in the arboreal twilight
locked in by the weather
with only the tepid churn
of daydreams
providing narrowing paths
for my soul-searching.
There is a sublime pool of intersecting streams.
I wade that wet like watermelon's green.
Citrulline el citrine my cisterns be clean like the water's Maxwell.
The soul is luminous and gloomed by the taste of tart nectarines.
Ascorbic acid redox action.
Black berries and raspberry pi passions.
Anthocyanin dismutation.
Resveratrol is my midas touch; I turn water into a flight of Pinot noir and charcuterie plush.
I see your face and develop a crush.
I may improvise on your liquid piano a null note to Chopin.
Masquerade with a mask made of fluent time before the sluice is opened.
Lift my grail to fill of all with these mulled elixirs; to place in a potion of pairs.
Drop just a dram of it's dole on the serpent's forked tongue so that it's venom may be squared.
The juice of a dragon fruit dragon.
Take just a drop to succus for a homeopathic.
Used to incant with living spirits a sanguine pima mater.
It sweetens inside it's menstruum; imprinting it's mark in the water by delicate radio wave resonance.
All to be nestled in the sublingual space of an atoned tyrant.
Vitalized by the fruit's likeliness to my draconian ward.
Reconstituted by the essence of what was once the fruit of knowledge before.
Ripened, to a pursuit of love inside it's holon core.
It's quite obvious now:
"The they" are preparing for life deep underground.
Placing final ribbons around subterranean cities.
Stockpiling sustenance
Water being siphoned to top off cisterns and privies.
The Amazon, Tigris, and Euphrates.
Superior, Michigan, and Erie are all being drained.
The surface people will be left scrambling for crumbs
in the phlegm of nuclear holocaust.
They'll devolve into hunter-gatherer clans.
To become a twisted reality show for subterraneans.
"The They" who trafficked us and ate our babies
will make a game of it, placing bets at our expense...
on who will perish -who'll be left.
Then, when the earth is somewhat cleansed.
"The They" will emerge to barter with metal from our teeth
pin our cross/bones to their puffy pigeon chests
The rest will serve as sex slaves, servants, and jesters
in the post-apocalyptic bed, "the they" have knowingly made.
A dance of elegance they leap
in grace of movements sweep
moonlights skipping on the waves
upon the circuits the currents paves
A Spanish Dancer twirls her skirt
whose painted like a rainbows shirt
Your works oh Jah blanket the Sea
where creatures frolic internally
Where Leafy Dragons in Reefs foray
the clown fish in anemone play
the razor fish like knives in sand
but foolish men think it's not planned
Where fierce and tender Orca steals
the infant pups of many Seals
where coral forests the oceans floor
the groves of Kelp hide many more
Odd companions the crab and shrimp
who share a hole like common tent
on flows the cisterns of the Deep
the lair where Leviathan do sleep
There flying fish cavort on wing
wild aquatic souls live and sing
here Dolphins cartwheel in escapade
in pods their dancing a parade
Who understands the Songs of Whales
who carry calves and smack their tails
to starfish who cling the rock of Beaches
here low tides the mussels reaches
These lives mankind has proved a danger
to poison Seas palace he is no stranger
Here predator man competes with Sharks
in every Sea his fatal marks
The Shark only does his hunt for meal
Mankind's a predator who kill and steal
Toxic pollution down rivers flow
the dead zones that kill the life below
Life perpetuates itself by designers plan
We question it's survival , it's death by Man
Those who love the earth these traits resist
There's too much beauty divinely kissed
COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
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