Long Diminishing Poems
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Wife's job vanished
Bank account diminishing
Future uncertain
Wolves are nosing at the door again.
My children smile at me,
Dance for joy when I come home;
Suddenly, no more fear, no worries for awhile
Funny how it takes all my concentration,
Such an effort of will,
To acheive, now and again,
The state of mind they take for granted.
The background noise of the big world is so high
One can barely think.
So I strive to rise above it,
To lift up and out of my little self
Climbing higher and higher
'Til the horizon's edges
Fall Away
And everything is Present:
No Future No Past
No Necessities
Only the one Conscious Moment
Shining here unbounded.
I see once more that I shall suffer for awhile,
But can this really touch my joys, my freedom?
- Only by my own permission.
No Joy without Pain
No Light without Dark
No Life without Death
Where are the sufferings of yesterday, of the years before?
Memories now, fading into the distance.
Troubles roll in, break over our lives
Then go, then come again
Sliding forwards and back on the tides of tomorrows.
I feel my pain, and close behind it
The world's far greater pain screaming
From its thousand daily wounds
Yet every day we go on, regardless
Fight the strain and it strengthens,
Let it break, then it recedes.
Do something, or nothing
The Wheel turns just the same.
Easily said, yet hard to do;
Nothing's more difficult
Than doing nothing.
My love runs deep, my senses alive and vibrant with her,
Countless small delights lay near to hand.
I've two children more beautiful than the stars
To gaze on as they sleep; drunken with love of them
- What matters some struggle, next to this?
Yesterday is lost to time, and tomorrow yet to be;
All I can hold is this One Moment - I must not let it fall!
I look within the Moment
Horizons Fall Away.
Reach for It - It slides away
Listen for It - no sound will come
- But glance away, be still awhile and wait
- It steals up in the wind and blows right though you, Singing.
It is like deep water.
On the surface everything changes, flows
But down below abides a Great Stillness.
Horizons Fall Away.
ENOUGH!
I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH,
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?
However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander,
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.
Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!
Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!
Ian Souter
A hint of helping this wholesome Harris son
can across thru the air
Hence this poetic expression
of gratitude Matthew Scott wants to blare
And communicate my genuine
appreciation crystal clear
Toward one whose existence
more valuable to me and dear
As thee doth become older
with natural diminishment with eyes and ear
But lo…tis unproductive to fear
The diminishing sands
of mortal time as cognitive gear
Doth get clogged as well as one
or the other organ allowing ye to hear
The sound of silence echoing
memories of the past – now a blur
Akin to a warm fuzzy feeling
soft as moss or lichen – precious as a coat of fur
Which tomorrows speed faster
becoming yesterday’s lore
Mixed with trials and tribulations less or more
Thickening as starch and ever more difficult to pour
From the egged on noggin blended
into one glob kept in secret store
Perhaps comprising partially healed wounds
at your heart tore
As if a drafted soldier once
in tiptop shape now to the bone years wore
Away whet dreams housed
within myths indistinguishable from truths of yore
Though I too sometimes fret
as tempus fugit slinks away
Where methinks how the years spin
at a quicker pace each day
Inculcating me to savor each moment,
whether weather sunny or gray
Taking stock of self of natural world
as one named John Jay
Audubon, who captured pristine lands
of America as a frieze zing May
Whereby bounteous creatures
large and small at play
Until…the inundation
of settlers did slash, burn and slay
Indiscriminately - setting precedent
for Earth in a precarious balance oye vay
Whence Mother Nature
will win this global Olympic match – yet
By which time, both thyself
and ye will be long turned to ash
Descendants will be dust off
faded photos of me self
before senescence did dash
Totally unaware that me papa Boyce Brandon
with clenched and teeth did gnash
When I fought tooth and nail
and without a word did lash
Back as protestations against behavior
of mine ye disliked and found rash
With frustration spilling forth
like acidic froth that did splash
Slash and burn within,
yet kept mum no matter
from within did thrash.
I LOVE YOU TOO DAD
NO MATTER BACK IN THE DAY YE GOT MAD
YET NOW, AS A FATHER TWAS FRUSTRATION
PERHAPS FUSED WITH BEING SAD
AT MY LIFE & HARD TIMES WHEREIN
TURMOIL ROILED MORE THAN A TAD!
A "Highly" Debated Issue
From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State
Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground
Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”
When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear
And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it
Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied
Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends
If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain
Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why I love C.D’s poem “ A Highly Debated Issue”:
Carolyn Devonshire’s poems showcase the extraordinary thoughtful mind behind those lines. All of Carolyn’s poems are profound, and full of depth, but this poem especially touched me - I had the similar experience of losing a beloved one to the deadly disease, and we were not able to give him relief during the last days of intense pain. Carolyn was a strong, sensitive, generous, caring human being and a talented poetess, who loved life in her own way - she loved sand, and left her footprints on the shores of this mysterious earth.
Celebrating Carolyn’s poetry: an Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Courtesy viz (g)natty Thrip Pest...
This client (Matthew Scott)
availed himself at behest
of following counselor
who bares his chest
to Stephanie Dodds
(maid 'n USA name)
taught technique to minimize
ruffling feathers lest
the missus aggrieved
spending her nest
egg, thus self and missus
live destitute oppressed
as two basket of deplorables stressed
nearly every day envisioning
castles in air pipe dreams
when getting undressed
preparatory to dreams
within illusory shut eye
yours truly dons fancy vest
believe me you sold by Kanye West.
DEAR MAN skills
(feeble attempt more daunting
versus scaling Mount Everest)
embraced with zest
supported and blessedly underwritten
by loan granted from Univest
Bank ohm my dog to mitigate electric
resistance while no resistance
against kool psychological aid acid test,
whereby this husband espoused,
to help him recharge, (re:volt if necessary)...,
which endeavor now poetically expressed
concerning contentious gripe(s),
she would concur challenges we contest
beat within mine (possibly her) breast
unavoidable series of parallel events
disallows me to experience respite
as ye correctly guessed
impossible mission until
death do me part heavenly blessed,
meanwhile to maximize insight woke
involving DEAR MAN skills
with following example I attest
triggered food for thought
countless years gone by, no jest
which behavior even
eldest daughter did detest
specifically oft time ebt -
Electronic benefit transfer
i.e. food stamp money addressed
when wife spent lion's share
in one fell swoop, I did level best
to communicate while pride
hide hid ingest, wife acquiesced
yet without fail repeated offense
whereby mister diplomacy here
explained (with diminishing patience)
allocated funds sole comestible expense
then included four family members
issue got heated more emphatically
groused at my sidelined request
invariably spiking discourse
else... I threatened to divest
and stow card in wallet (mine),
yet invariably relinquished said item,
perhaps first will and testament bequest
if imposed, enforced, adhered...
would have nipped in bud
finding yours truly less obsessed,
nee furious every month
the vicious drama cycled
smoldering resentment did crest
into shouting tense match,
thus body electric lamely fleshed.
Here lies papa, the bravest warrior
Who turned the cats back to the ground.
Whose mighty sword slain thousand soldiers at a sight
And his presence calmed the snarling hyenas
Salute to the mountainous beast among humans
Salute to the king tree, the iroko.
He, who fought the wind in a physical combat with a fist,
Oh papa, enfolded by glories, demon, flapping fans of war.
He walked with the lions of the forest
And his eyeball sent fears into the elephant’s heart.
Wolves trembled at his sight, here lies his corpse unmoved
Now,
He has gone to meet his ancestors
His glories diminishing unnoticed;
And his honour with held.
Death threw his door wide open to receive him
That glories Eke morning.
His bony claws were outstretched to hook into his heart,
And plucked out his life.
His cavernous mouth was determined to drink his blood
To the last drop.
Freedom! Papa cried and fought but the hands were too strong.
Stronger than the winds
Later,
The ground protested for freedom from his grip
As he joined them.
They kept moving on razor edge to penetrate him
Mother earth wept for peace.
The worms hastened in
Alas! They all bleed the day to death.
Suddenly, the underworlds stared at the body
I understood their plight
Papa was stronger than them all.
Ogbuefi, my elegy burst in the name of isieke
Your ancestral home land.
The iroko has fallen.
The fallen iroko was once upon his glory
And men dared not look into his eyeball.
But here lies he, unmoved.
Feeble ants now laughed at him scornfully
Yes, we dreamt of conquering death.
So lives could live and grow sore not.
I remembered the lures of that ancient call.
Of what importance is life any way?
That man stumbled and struggled for evil.
Vanity, it is, vanity upon vanities.
But men understood not the call there of.
I will walk through the pains
Promising with all hopes
Not to turn down men of good will
For I pass this road but once.
To wait on this great green side
Till the coming dark clouds have cleared
Then, death be no more
And, father emerged in joyful smiles clothed in white
To welcome me home to dwell in his bosom with his Chi.
ALL RIGHT RERSEVED(JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT) 2013
Where once verdant rolling highlands...
Spanned into infinite vista
far as these myopic eyes can see
now yellowing Whitmanesque
leaves of grass encompass field of vision.
Nary a dark dreadnaught cloud in sight,
nor unbeknownst if/when threatening storm
looms on horizon slaking parched land
delivering precipitation quenching thirsty terra firma.
I too experience vicarious dehydration
during bonafide dry spell
constituting theoretical string
hoop fully curtails weather beaten
flora and fauna
conceding blindingly bright
cloudless summer days
across disc (sky)
to amply liquidate shriveling assets.
Unbeknownst when spate of rainlessness,
(i.e. I pray for moderate soaking precipitation)
thwarting immediate indications
meteorologically signalling onset
regarding definition of drought.
Nothing more humbling
than cacophonous thunderstorm
nsync with jagged bolts of lightning
accompanying drenching downpour
analogous to downed wall of water
cascading from upper atmosphere
intermittently pelting landscape
albeit immediately, magically, quixotically...
transforming parched land (Highland Manor)
into profuse lusciousness
harkening Edenic denouement.
Impossible mission (this simple bumpkin)
(one local Schwenksville yokel)
(Civil War union soldier incarnate)
to forecast today/tonight
eventide of June twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty,
when Zeus will doctor
animals and plants courtesy
of requisite life source
also known as H2O,
comprising above mentioned
two hydrogen atoms
and one oxygen atom.
Ironic, how approximately
three quarters (seventy five sense)
engulfs planet Earth,
yet many environments
suffer inadequate deluges,
more so now with climate change
(global warming) increasing temperature
across oblate spheroid
compromising habitable places,
yet methinks coronavirus (COVID-19)
gave mother nature
much needed reprieve
cleansing heavily polluted urban areas
courtesy partial lockdown and restraint,
whereby *****sapiens
deterred, jackknifed, prohibited...
spewing noxious forth fossil fuel byproducts
encouraging, mustering,
plying, telecommuting, zooming
avast array of activities
augmented by virtual reality
technology supplanting mass transit,
thus diminishing deadly toxins
absorbed by all creatures
great and small.
Dedicated to my neighboring Agri. University Lawn, Kanpur India.
My Grass Daffodils
The Sun was trying to hide away,
The Stars were yet to shine on way,
The trees were silent,
But the breeze was a little violent.
In the fading golden light of Sun,
I was lost in simply watching,
The spreading beauty of Yours in abundance,
The ravishing beauty, was trying to stop me to leave,
To hear and to feel, the music of winds and Daffodils,
Coming from the swinging and singing grasses,
From which every year comes out, my yellow daffodils.
Every year I wait for them to come out,
Every year they wait for the raindrops to shower,
To show their short but enchanting appearance
On the neighboring grassland.
In those memorable moments,
Which sometimes I have spent,
In the alluring company of my sweet Daffodils,
I have tried to take away with me,
The swinging and singing splashes of my grass Daffodils.
They come out every year,
In several hundred thousands of numbers,
When ever the rains start showering its love,
Only on the grass lawn of Agri. University.
I often try to understand, how even a thing like grass,
Can be so beautiful and so fascinating,
That, any one can get lost,
In the eternal joyous singing and
Swinging of these Grass Daffodils.
In mild rains they bloom, without rains they died away,
Like humans, who gets faded and dull without love
And one day fades away or become jealous or cruel,
Without the tender care and love.
Every year you fascinate me, every year I get lost in you,
O my childhood friend from where you have come,
And to where you would go like a mystery of life, I do not know.
Once the rains are over,
You vanish like the diminishing light,
Like me you also seem to love,
The rains and its mild showers, as a blessing on us.
I know like humans,
You also do not like too much of rains,
And too much of showers,
Which can spoil the beauty of your petals,
And the beauty of you, my amazing Daffodils.
But like the Grecian Urn, you will continue
To bloom and smile,
On the grass lawn of Agri. University during rains,
And after that on the pages of my mind, heart and soul,
You would shine like the Sunshine,
Till I am living and dreaming on this earth.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 26th July 2010
I wrestle with against vulnerable boundaries
to invasive intimacy,
left unlanguaged yet right felt dismay
could not sustainably remain
without being said outloudlyish
in some bicameral bilateral bipolar balancing brainiac
polypathically left merely cooperationalizing,
creolizing Sacred Elders feeling self-righteous
matriarchal nutritionisms,
spiritual and diminished secular scientissues
falling failing OtherWise,
hypothetical proofs of co-incidence.
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Not not here.
I wish.
Go notnot away.
Where dissonance grows troubling
such dismay's source is left label searched for
within economic causes
producing secular with sacred ecological effects
to become biologically expected
in and through bilateral regenerational returns,
depending on the faith systemic word choices preferred
by All EarthLives Matter
sacred ecosystemic recoverers,
co-listening
deep mutual learners
comfortable in tranquil ponds
of lucid equal harmonies
ringing double-boundaries
singing
winging
flinging not here not now
invisible hypotheses
of Zero-Core bicameral bilaterality.
Rich loving mentors,
teachers,
but please,
not another preacher
of cognitive patriotism
against affective ecofeminist intuitive self-defense
begun against
lunar-scheduled matriotism,
offense against solar Yanger
wanger
bangers,
Pi to pay
the multiculturing pipers,
ecofitters,
multiculturing quilters
and organic happy, sometimes a little high,
farmers
of antiquity,
herstoric myth tellers
and legend gossips
and polypathic paradigming architects
exforming evolutionary incarnations
as revolutionary reverse-notnot
evolutionary
yet as now appositionally bilateral
absence of cognitive-affective dissonant
boundaries
of vulnerably echoing reiterative transparency,
both ego threat of rightwing dominant terrorism
and eco-opportunity,
left with right wing ego/eco-dominance
as positive psychology
and EarthTribe EcoJustice
complicated redisunprecovery
of often deep dense politics.
All about atomizing power
both/and wavey-linear flow.
Wherein we wrestle with,
but preferably not against,
vulnerable boundaries
about too invasive double-binding intimacy
left unlanguaged
yet right felt dismay,
sung in
and through thin
diminishing dissonance.
Fortunate failure of fallacy and regret
Contortionist cartoonist illustrating what id like to forget
Proportions of misfortune that I have to measure then reject
Insubordinate illusions of what the deluded ones project
Brandishing bravery as a tool to confront apathy
Vanishing complacency as a fool faces his own pathology
Diminishing returns on an outstretched Hand for mediocracy
Banishing a word in fear of it infiltrating the autocracy
Wealth of a pleasurable sonnet in the afternoon light
Stealth drones hiding under the bonnet of a bomb struck down in mid-flight
Health gnomes on it to prove they won it as they instigate a fight
Shelf philosophy stacked upon it all as we look up to the blazing night
Illumination of discourse as paramount as breathing
Rumination of recourse as they segregate you for dreaming
Communication without force as non violent resistance is beaming
Aspiration for the dark horse underdog winning as its screaming
Collective remiss furrowed brows and a cocophony of injustice throughout the land
Reflective consensus, wearing dentures as the elderly reach out their hands
Introspective observations and elevations of the grand
Non-objective instigations of the weak struggling to take a stand
Voracious curiosity at the passing of a young life too soon
Loquacious luminosity at the exclamations of a full calendar moon
Tenacious furiosity of lamentations upon true doom
Mendacious propaganda that is formed from a silver spoon
A capitalist nightmare in the dark alley of dismay
A conversationalist who doesn’t care out on socialising display
The transformationalist transforming during a military parade
The educationalist performing another game of indiscernible charades
Wonder forming at the dawning of another blistering sunset
Yonder warning as this conforming crowd is whispering political unrest
Ponder the morning as the yawning wind rescinds over the subset
Sunder tawny climate warning as we disregard the youngest
Platonic solids form the basis of physical uniformity of nature
Masonic torrid storm the moment as adolescents think they are mature
Ironic Euclid geometrically far from stupid as we look for another cure
As the rarest of the chosen ones become fewer and fewer
The End
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025