Long Detail Poems
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Written: January 05, 2023
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As a river beckons
and brittle stripes
of soaring reeds swell,
with a faint breeze
and a sturdy hedge,
the ebb and flow
of a loving swarm,
who humbly trickle
on an emerald ledge,
my spirit quivers
at sight of your hasty
adrift in vehemence,
full of enthusiasm,
fledgling, foolish scent.
aerial zephyrs are said,
to breathe a divine dream
upon receiving,
award of merit.
Can you pinpoint
every detail in
a seamless swerve
swaying stygian splits
in crystalline water
convey radiance
or a wispy, hazy veil
wrapped in gnomes
rhythm,
dance and chant
as twigs protrude
from swaying rims,
suave souls supplied
a haven while time invades
wrests wonted words
as sapphire scrap.
epitome of sighs.
It's time for seraphic zeal
in gauzy garments
and lunar anguish,
beseeching you with
a supple, soft cuddle
to bestow her boon,
pureness excites her.
to the brink of rapture,
leading lips to quiver
she merely dodges it,
as her grasp seeks to yield
a tender kiss, and
a loving curl of her lips.
5th place contest winner
(“Rainbow Body” detail, 2018, original encaustic)
The key instruction for stabilizing rigpa,
Or fundamental awareness of the ground of being,
Is to first let your mind rest and settle.
Don’t try to do anything.
Which means don’t follow or suppress thoughts,
Cultivate a method, or aim for some result,
Just simply sit, like a mute corpse.
Eventually the mind will quit resisting.
And when it does, comfort and ease naturally arises,
Awareness dawns, with the familiarity of home,
And the mind just does its thing like a happy child.
Magical thinking ends and magical being begins.
At first such recognition is remarkable
But then with familiarity it becomes ordinary,
And with ordinary, stability is gained.
Effortlessly this arises from effortful diligence.
Then what is there to do, only sit and stare?
No, with your attention firmly anchored in the ground of being
Bring the mind to it and test your stability.
First with thinking then with action.
Can we maintain our awareness as we add layers of discursiveness?
Again and again, like a clown learning to juggle
We work on dexterity, training muscle memory.
To discover there really is no two within the one.
Mind with its discursive thinking
Is none other than calm abiding awareness
Playing around, for attention and fun.
In an irresistible dance of awareness.
Everything we know and see
Before we give it a name and label
Is just this basic non-dual awareness.
Only with the solidity of naming do we make it an illusion.
With recognition comes familiarity
And with familiarity greater stability
Until all that is left is the playful dancing ground.
Waking from a dream into a home we've never left.
After all, trees and weeds
However dark and dense we find them,
Only grow by the light of Sun.
They are in fact Sun made flesh and fiber.
And we, Sun's eyes as bright as stars
Whose dust we honor,
Have no home but here.
(5/6/26)
Hot December with excitement in the air.
Parties, new dresses and meals; a treat so fair!
Most special is my last born’s birthday.
Minute monitoring of decoration’s detail
And fussing over final dressing of cocktail.
Majestic table stands with a centerpiece;
Tempting cake covered with colorful candy.
Girl of the day, all blushed, stands proudly!
Mobiles click amidst hilarious comments,
Candles blowing and ceremonious cutting of cake;
A start to the feast, while aside waits sizzling steak!
Champagne flows bubbling in slim glasses;
Toast to a radiant girl; happiness in transience.
A shriek! Suffices to break party’s ambience.
Daughter stares, transfixed in action, at her coupe;
Giant cockroach perched on the rim, about to whoop!
Wings flutter; lo! Her glass flows to land on a head.
Others duck, and screams overcome music soft.
Commonsense dawns, husband searches, ready to boff
While I rushed to turn tablecloth over delicacies.
It has to be killed; a task demanding efficacies.
Yuck! It lands on the white linen, unsure, ….what a dread!
Husband holds cushion, on the point to have it smashed
When a brave one grabs it; in the toilet, it goes flushed!
25/02/17
Contest 'An Unwanted Guest' by Shadow Hamilton
Judged 4/03/17 - placed 7 out of 10
'Tis so nice at Christmas time to receive a colorful array of cards,
From kith and kin sending their warmest Yuletide regards.
I don't mind receiving bills or a summons to serve on a jury,
But opening a card and finding a Noel letter causes me some fury!
Such missives detail the doings of their entire family tree.
I have no idea who they're talking about - it matters not to me.
Their perfect kids are doing great, earning scholarships to Yale,
Yet there is no mention of one who 'tis well known ended up in jail!
So they bought each of the kids a brand new DTS Cadillac,
And they vacationed at their fancy condo in Fond du Lac,
But no mention that Mom and Dad are due in county court,
To begin bankruptcy proceedings since money has come up short!
Junior is a super-star on the local high school football team.
No doubt he'll be picked for an NFL team - that is his dream.
But no mention that he was quietly benched during mid-season.
He was caught smoking something funny seems to be the reason!
I enjoy receiving traditional cards depicting Santa's ponderous girth,
And especially those telling of the dear Savior's wondrous birth,
But please spare me those inane letters and their gobbledegook!
I'd just as soon relax by the fire and peruse my telephone book!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
March 8 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Samuel 16-18
Key Verse – 2Samuel 16:12 It may be that the LORD will look on mine affliction, and that the LORD will requite me good for his cursing this day.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR LOOKING ON MY AFFLICTION
Thank You for looking on my affliction-difficulty
With Your eyes of love, assuring security
Really caring for me midst sin-infirmity
Hence, forgiving me in my repentant sincerity.
Thank You for looking on my affliction-hardship
With Your discernment of prayer fellowship
Really inviting me toward joyful worship
Hence, guiding me to seek Your fatherly leadership.
Thank You for looking on my affliction-pain
With Your vision of heavenly gain
Really insuring me eternal treasures against wealth so vain
Hence, strengthening me to work for soul-business which is the very main.
Thank You for looking on my affliction-distress
With Your focus of inspiration as encouraging divine stress
Really upholding me despite frustrations that oppress
Hence, moving me to continue while my self-pity You suppress.
Thank You for looking on my affliction-travail
With Your enlightenment of truth’s detail
Really illumining me so that Your wisdom I can avail
Hence, guiding me in my ministry-journey’s sail.
Thank You for looking on my affliction-sadness
With Your presence of watchfulness midst blest blissfulness
Really enveloping me with Your triumphant peacefulness
Hence, reviving me along Your mercy and grace-goodness.
March 8, 2022
In my fragile little ship, I sail sail,
In the tempestuous sea of life, vast,
Studying the stagnant winds in detail,
Gliding up slowly with a lofty mast.
Facing strong winds my ship starts from the clast,
And trials of life - tides - ensue without fail;
Dodging life's pressures, to doldrums outlast,
In my fragile little ship, I sail sail.
In moments when thunderstorms and harsh gale
Fill my life with gloom and leave me aghast,
Steer ahead with cheer: my goal will entail,
In the tempestuous sea of life, vast.
At times, harsh heartless words a shadow cast
Over peace; grief grips tight in life's travails;
Through unloving currents, I sail sail fast,
Studying the stagnant winds in detail.
When hassles and tussles of life prevail,
And gloomy events haunt me from the past,
Amidst the dismal darkness I sail sail,
Gliding up slowly with a lofty mast.
To flow with the rhythms of life, till the last,
My ship is all set, though a little frail,
The tides may be high or low in contrast;
Bouncing in and out of waves, I sail sail,
In my fragile little ship...
Date: 03/04/2021
Submitted for: Life's Struggles - Any Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Rondeau Redouble Modified
Syllables: 10 syllables each line, except last line
The morning dew spreads out on the grass adding moisture to the thirsty ground, the birds gather in the treetop flying around in curbs, and circling the interior of the earth.
They are trying to tell how the earth was formed and what to do at the break of dawn; one by one they fly into the air and stands on logs far and near, while the shirtless men roamed through the woods looking confused and dismayed as they clear ground to pitch tents for the refugee in the town.
A sudden rush of optimism surrounds me and the uncertainties that were buried in the ground starts cracking the earth and spewing dirt around.
It wasn’t quite like it used to be because some boats were still struggling in the deep sea, they have not been on shore for many months, fire and sticks were driving them back and they could not find a rope to dock, but the tug boat kept pulling it until it finally crossed the threshold.
I could feel a touch of harmony floating at a high altitude and the trees and branches starts dancing, but chaos was resting on the other end of town.
The pelican and a lion was fighting in the den, the horse tried to intervene and got severely burned on its heel, they tore its shoe apart and it was left to wander in the dark, and the night owl boot the merciless lion out of the town but hope ligers around.
The animals are sensitive too they sit and scrutinize me and you, the tree is there to bear witness how they try to assinated me and you. The plan was one year in the making and it was ruthless and painstaking.
Every detail was worked out from the base to the crown, but destiny would not have it go that way, a miracle was just in time to drive the dark clouds away.
When division is found among you, offer the olive branch for a lamp and a shoe and when the ducks come around throw some corn on the ground.
And so the birds began to gather around and the big plan was made to evacuate the town but many people did not have anywhere to go, and so they held their course and spread out all over the town but the wind snatch them two by tow in a secret mission out of the turbulent town.
I look, drawing the scene into a narrow focus.
Unable to see detail without changing
when and where I look,
changing my point of view.
Still, the periphery begged to be seen.
Just out of range and over the edge.
Look at me, Look at me, it said.
Each small twist of the head
changed the parameters of what
seemed to be was real, when revealed.
Surfaces thinned
became translucent, less lucid, transparent
Meaning shifted ground
up and down, side to side
focusing in, out, round about.
To look is to disturb.
To measure is to move.
To know a position
is to lose the grip, lose control
and set the scene
into an endless shimmering of motion
quivering in my mind's eye,
somewhere between
what I see,
and what I cannot hold still enough,
to snap a shot
of the full perspective insight
of what I see.
So much of my life, I spent being lost
Walking in circles, scratching dates off
There was always music playing, I heard
I danced to the beat, ignoring the words
It’s as if I were sheltered from intense emotion
There was no extreme. I just had to keep going
I was living oblivious to passion and pain
Beneath an umbrella, Avoiding the rain
I mixed and mingled. Got lost in the crowd
There wasn’t a chaperone, to call me out
Could nobody tell? Did nobody see?
I had no soul, inside of me
An empty vessel with a smile of paint
It wasn’t true life. I was only a fake
When I finally awoke from my generous slumber
I saw everything clear, perfect detail, in numbers
I saw the clock for the first time, really
I kid you not, though, it may sound silly
Things were so scary and different from before
I saw the end coming, but yearned for much more
I wish I could return to my former self
Armed with knowledge from a higher shelf
So I’d have a heads up, for what was to come
To soften the sound of life’s wake up drum
Seasons renew, Springtime approach
Careful now, winter may encroach
I welcome, without reproach
Peel back blankets, reveal fresh sheets
Buds in humid air, growing sweet
Cycle of life, now competes
Mother nature, seeds breakthrough earth
Gestation over, brings forth birth
Primal scream, explosive mirth
All too soon, grasslands dehydrate
Overhead sun, heat concentrate
Goodbye spring, evaporates
Attention To Detail Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rob Levasseur
10/01/2021, syllable counted -
8/8/7/. 8/8/7/. 8/8/7/. 8/8/7/. rhyme checked