Long Convalescence Poems
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Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A woodland walk, a quest for river-grapes, a mocking thrush, a wild rose or rock-living columbine, salve my worst wounds.”
SUFFERING SEASON
broken…
the sediment — a deposition seed,
of what meaning, this scrawl?
splinters splayed, suffering season
comforted by a columbine.
pressed into the carnivorous cranny
of melancholic chords, phantom phenom
appears from sunless shadows,
felicitous with numb heartstrings.
pretense of petals pierced,
potent poison’d creative mind.
woman in white, welded to hatchery,
sings wisdom and solitude —
shy flower cranes its head to listen.
rebirth croons in crannied space,
cramps of convalescence released.
a lonely boy. . . the florid dove lands
on two fingers, he’s mesmerized —
the apparition strokes his hair.
2/21/2020
Flower in the Crannied Wall Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
The Construct of an Essence Forming
Collaborative custodians of remuneration for the poor
Commemorative symposiums on humans need for wanting more
Symbols of ancient mystery drawn upon cave walls
Thimbles of fragrant misery born from what a man recalls
A nieche in the marketplace, an advertisement that lies
A piece of someone’s face falling plastic from their eyes
The grief of the replaced calling out for compromise
Attitudes of servitude that call for investigation
Gratitude for the interludes that fall for the relief of compensation
Exactitude that can only conclude to stall the consternation
Platitudes that are borderline rude based on weak configurations
Instantaneous satisfaction born from greed and lust
Sub-cutaneous mathematical fractions that only scientists trust
Spontaneous interactions that are based on sense and must
Contemporaneous fine contractions that are born from the modes of break and bust
An ethical integrity that cannot be mistaken
Umbilical propensity that will not be mis-shapen
Ventriloquist alarmists miming political ideals
Soliloquies, pharmacists, timing hypocritical appeals
Contrite sensibility coming from a place of inherent goodness
Finite possibilities running the race of concurrent couldness
Hematite magnifications of ions colliding for war
Israelite pontifications of lions at the gates of Daniels door
Cocophonies of entropy expanding out through space
Topographies and symphonies sounding with an air of grace
Corroborrees and ancient trees expressing wisdom from a race
Soliloquies and poetry forming from a lifetime of disgrace
The basic convalescence of a soul pure as white
The corrupt adolescence as the whole begins to fight
The abrupt incandescence of a goal reaching the light
The construct of the essence of a mould in pure delight
Copywrite 2023 Elizabeth Morozl
it’s hard to prioritize peace
But to rid myself of this unwanted pain
Of this tiresome situation,
I have to prioritize me
it took way to long to realize I Was stuck
In a cycle of love,lies,regret then disgust
And acknowledgement was my first step
To realizing there was nothing left.
But apologies and forgiveness
Tho my forgiveness run out
For my eyes have now dried
For I am no longer able to shout
I am unable to shed tears so I will no longer try
I rid my self of all my insecurities, all my reasons to cry,
For my cup has run empty
And I simply can not bare,yesterdays pain
Because I simply do not care.
And it took many situations for my care to run out
Please Don’t fool yourself into thinking this was sudden
It took the tears from what I actually needed
And You let my tears fall for nothing
And for that you deserve less,
Less than you’ve given me
however, I wish you a lover who is willing, I wish you peace
I wish you the ability to correctly portray your feelings
I wish you the contentment that I feel now
I wish that you reach where I am without figuring out how
It feels to be in my shoes
For I don’t think you could exist as me
And for that I look at you, I cry for you with nothing but pity
Which once was anger but I’ve learned to overcome
and through this rugged convalescence
I prioritize me, I am Done
with tears, with lies with withholding the truth
for I now prioritize my peace, my pleasure, my heart… I will no longer prioritize you
Convoluted Possibilities
Constellations of configurations that capture my fading breathe
Elevations of consummations that reflect on all that’s left
Inclinations towards imitations that leave me feeling bereft
Commiserations for the consternations as a life lingers upon death
Collusions of covert planning that draw nefarious conclusions
Intrusions of introverted inclinations that produce clarity of thought amidst the confusion
Infusions of concert performances that are based on artistic delusions
The fusion of science and geometry that defy mathematical protrusions
Designations of grace and contemplation amidst a crystal stream
Resignations of place and contestations that induce the quiet man to scream
Conflagrations of misplaced elevations that produce a lucid dream
Amalgamations of disgraced technocratic awe captured in a meme
Beautification in the aftermath of philosophical inquiry and inquisition
Stupefaction at the polymath contriving his expertise without contrition
Communication flowing toward the empath as she absorbed the emotional vision
Calcification of the psychopath devoid of feeling amidst their precision
Morality and consequence above constellations of burning stars
Tonality and influence that drive around in expensive cars
The fallacy of innocence exposed to malevolence from afar
Polarity that is the inference of the political players counting cards
An essence of retrospect that stirs true emotion to begin to rise
Convalescence of intellect that brings a tear upon my eyes
Incandescence of a dialect burning like a candle in demise
Reminiscence of a moment in time that memory causes her to cry
Affluence and greed among the overpriviledged few
Common sense and need preside over the ageing and the new
Malcontents that feed on the morsels of the gossip in the stew
A mind that’s dense but beautiful leads the crowd and that is you!
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted
Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love
will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.
Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling...
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence
of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.
Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back
courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program
plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible
magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.
Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments
accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.
Why choose war
& recuse ourselves
from peace as a whole?
For this we die boldly
in pieces for
puzzling reasons
Tell me
who's responsible
for this
ungodly treason
The news
spread like wildfire
as fire rained
from the heavens
Is this a message
from The Most High
& spoken blessing?
I'm guessing you should
listen with ears
on your heart as to
avoid convalescence
Subliminal waves
roll in like high tides
crashing a beach party
We reach partly because
we're blind to
the darkness of
the abyss
Reminiscent of
darker times
that's why it's
so hard to reminisce
Our experience
is tied to an ocean
of deeper things
Fish for
the right answers
& take in what
the question brings
We're reeling
in real time
casting lines
with aspirations
Questionable acts
staged for reactions
but we block them
with affirmation
It's internal
demonstration
that rocks them
to the core
Bring forth
infernal flames
from within
shining light on what
earth is spinning for
The Good was Taken out of the Summer
The good was taken out of the summer,
With her garden patch left abandoned,
Lettuce heads and scallions gone wild,
Her sweet summer plans all spoiled.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With green fly festering her roses,
Overwatered orchids on the sill
As her plastic bread bowl lay still.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With Hunter, her dog left in waiting
For her voice, her footsteps, her care
And the fridge in the kitchen left bare.
The good was taken out of the summer,
Put on pause til her homecoming came,
While in convalescence she lay
In a nursing home, day after day.
The good was put back into summer,
When she returned to where she belonged,
To her garden patch, Hunter and flowers,
To sit,
To be still,
To be ours.
Structures crumbling under the weight of
the decisions made in haste
Beneath the rubble lies all the reasons it was
all laid to waste
The signs were seen but disregarded as mere
means to an end
The golden mean would've sufficed but extremes
prevailed once again
Lack of faith in what is seen lead to harder lessons
learned
Some fight hard for their destruction so their path
is truly earned
You can preach until the cows come home but many
won't give a second listen
I guess the slaughter is more enticing to their
inhumane animalism
We're cannibalistic in a sense with the way we come
for each other
We've been deceived to come against & to fight
one another
Everyone loses at the end of days if we're overcome
by the night
We're in the midst of the battle of all battles with
those that wish to force a fight
They say that all is fair in love & war and that
purple hearts are a blessing
All I see are the wounds that decorate us while we
endure convalescence
Open your eyes unto the message before you take
further steps
I implore you to be righteous in your ways so that
you avoid oversteps
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand.
Rolling them over and over and over.
Leaving reality behind, far behind.
once an eagle
with a clipped wing
attempting
without surrender to once again
command the infinite azure sky;
continually nosediving
whenever tossed in the air.
his convalescence
punishingly long;
now complete.
embarking on a mission
to quiet doubting Thomases
that sounded a death knell for him
and laughed him off as
a paper plane
incapable of flying
far beyond the horizon...
look at him today!
look at him soaring above
majestically;
his journey
from the depth of asperity
to the dizzying heights of majesty...
m a g i c a l:
almost miraculous.
he's withered
the slings and arrows of life
intact; he's in flight once again
a testament
to his strength and resilience.
Today was a good day
Today he walked on legs unbent
And erect spine of a man intent
On stilling the cacaphony of monotony
And smoothing the callouses of convalescence
For today, we both forgot
The wasting rate this cancer's wrought
Today, he teased and squeezed and poked
Fun at his trademark old school jokes
Laughter's remembered warmth evoked
Today he drove his rattling truck
His feet sure on the pedal's pump
And carried boxes of tradebooks and tools
With hands that know weighted control
Today, without a splint or cane
He tamed steps of receding pain
Today, through a briefly calm sea
He is the man he used to be
So today, I can foresee
The luxury
When days like these
Are ordinary.
1/23/21