Long Entwined Poems
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a single heart
thick as wax
pressed into the earth’s embrace
it does not wither
does not break
only waits in silence--patient, watching
its vines creep slow
twisting tight
coiling round the throat of time
whisper soft
it calls their names
a voice like wind through hollow bone
come and see
come rest your hands
upon the leaves still warm with breath
they lean in close
they never know
until the roots have found their skin
wrists entwined
by tendriled veins
soft as lovers’ fingertips
no cries escape
no struggle holds
it drinks them deep--it lets them go
but still they bloom
from blood-wet soil
a heartbeat pulsing in the stem
one by one
it claims them all
until the plant becomes the man
his lips are leaves
his eyes are dark
his hands are reaching from the vine
he whispers now
with every breeze
and lures the next one home again
Souls Intertwined Sonnet VII
Is there a reason I belong with you?
Because I’m sure that is where I belong.
I’m not certain why, only that I do;
I both believe and know, I can’t be wrong!
Since my soul existed before my birth,
It seemed to recognize you when we met.
Since our souls existed before the Earth,
There must be feelings our soul can’t forget
Assuming that I really have a soul,
Then it’s clear that it’s all entwined with yours.
Then my one and only unique life’s goal:
Our endless on-going forever-mores
So let’s go walk through life into the skies,
Never saying, never hearing, goodbyes.
A break at last, sweet solitude
to now find comfort in my nook
that's bright and cozy, quiet too;
just me and a great storybook.
A cozy corner left alone
in my soft chair and window view
of rolling hills and swaying trees;
a book in hand to start anew.
A sweet love story with a plot
to take me to the land of youth;
entwined in webs of their young lives,
absorbed with fiction or the truth.
Perhaps a covert thriller type
too difficult to figure out,
will bring suspense until the end,
and hold me bound without a doubt.
Or maybe one's biography
to teach, inspire me, and learn
how someone famous led a life
for all to read about, discern.
A break at last, sweet solitude-
relaxing with great thoughts to read;
just me and a great storybook-
a special gift of life indeed.
April 18, 2016
~4th Place~
Contest: The Beauty of Solitude
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 05/04/2018
~2nd Place~
Contest: What I Would Give For a Nook and a Storybook
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 05/02/2016
Breathe Again
Did I have years of experience
Or was it years of daily repeats
I must have had, my confidence had suffered,
Those pop-up painful memories
In my love life and work experience I feud daily
Here I am today as I am aging,
I developed this thing called
“I just don’t give a ”
About after I am gone,
Just buried me under a tree,
Speak to me, my inner child:
Speak to me, like how you did in my past:
Were you guiding me or were you misleading me?
Lots of stories to be told,
The one who tells the best story
Were mostly observant of the craft,
Speak, to me, I was so blind, I was so lost
Nave, during those years of uncertainty.
What I had to endure, to make a living,
Those voices, those faces, those oppressors
Where are they now?
Here I am still feuding with the trauma
Speak to me, my inner child.
In slow motion my poetic, voice,
Entwined with my emotions,
Coyote and I travel Brooklyn Street without fear,
I am black by nature
Proud by choice, coyote I rather walk with the tiger,
Now they are studying my every move,
My internet posts, my TikTok text
Once again, no edits, only Al filters,
Lamb of God I look to thee
I was once that frightened inner child.
Written: September 09, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In the abyss of night, I'm held captive tight.
Addiction to idioms fuels my Phoebus fight.
I abide, vouching sporadically to escape,
From the clutches of zeal, I can't reshape.
But my quill rebels; it won't be subdued.
It dances on my fingertips, its blaze renewed.
Beleaguered by a kindle of syllables, they persist,
Won't charter me to chime, profess, and insist.
Oh, the maudlin whispers of writing passion,
Entice me; draw me into a bathetic attraction.
I whirl to abscond, to relish some release,
But the chains of my quill hold me in peace.
The words flow through me as a river so fierce,
With every pen stroke, my soul finds its release.
I'm a jailbird of this art, an enthused devotee,
In a realm of words, I rapture my sanctuary.
My heart stumbles, as leaves in the fall breeze,
But the quill snatches them away with grace and ease.
It weaves them into verses, a kernel of emotion,
An effusive love, and life's endless commotion.
I am bound to this pen, this captive quill,
Forever entwined in its enchanting thrill.
Despite my huge wack, I cannot escape.
Inevitably, it leads me back to my true shape.
So I embrace this addiction, this passionate fire.
Within its depths, my spirit soars higher.
I surrender to the rhythm and melody of words.
As they dance upon pages as fluttering birds.
In the act of writing, I find my true self.
Ink flows freely, such as a river of wealth.
I may be a captive to this quill; it's true,
But in its captivity, I am set free too.
Addiction to writing is a powerful force.
It guides me, shapes me, and charts my course.
I may be a captive, but I am not alone.
With every word written, a connection is sown.
A delicate dance, a balance to abide.
Let me share a verse, a tale profound,
Of union wed in hallowed ground.
When vows were spoken, love's embrace,
Within the walls of sacred grace,
Two souls entwined, a blessed bond,
In faith and hope, their hearts respond.
The church, a haven, where spirits soar,
A sanctuary for love to explore.
With blessings sought, in prayers they knelt,
Their union sealed, divine presence felt.
Yet in the realm of worldly decree,
Lies the state, where laws decree.
An earthly realm, where lives entwine,
Where unions formed, but can decline.
The state, it claims a different role,
To govern lives, the heart's control.
Through trials faced, its duty clear,
To grant divorce when love's austere.
For love is fragile, human, frail,
And sometimes falters, starts to pale.
The state steps in, with measured might,
To disentangle bonds, no longer bright.
Though wedded in the sacred place,
Where heaven's grace did interlace,
The state, it follows rules laid bare,
To sever ties, love's weight to bear.
The separation of these realms, you see,
Protects the church, protects the free,
To let religion guide its course,
While state ensures a civil force.
Thus, if the state may seek to part,
What church bestowed, two souls held in heart,
Remember, dear friend, it's not their aim,
To tarnish love or cause you shame.
They're bound by duty, laws compiled,
To navigate love's ebb and tide,
For if love fades and peace departs,
They offer solace, fresh new starts.
So let us honor this subtle divide,
Respecting both realms, hand in hand they stride.
For church and state, they coexist,
Preserving freedom, love's gentle twist.
In the flushing garden’s garnet path
we walked entranced,
the scarlet sun with the spectrum of dulcet dawn
held us within the sequins of the sapphire sky.
You saw my heart contoured
by the crimson curves of climbing clouds,
but not for very long,
for the rainstorm melted the sky,
you disappeared beyond the rainbow arch.
Over the quartz waves of the desert dunes,
we trudged with rhythmic exuberance,
until you melted away like the migrating mirage.
You reached the verdant oasis,
sprawling with the pulse of my olive heart,
swept away by the desert storm of yearning,
lost in the opaque labyrinth of oblivion.
On the silver sands of the satin beach
we traced the entwined fervent footprints.
The rolling waves adorned
the pearly lattice on your ivory feet.
As the tide of time erased my trail,
you walked away with poignant impulse
through the miasma of cascading moonbeam,
dissolving my nocturnal craving.
The dazzling dawn of desire veneers now
my heart’s horizon with halcyon hues,
spreading the sunburst tinges
of my timeless longing for you.
I remember blushing aglow
your emotive epitome lost long time ago.
Wandering listless in the wasteland
of the waned memory of belonging,
my silent tear drops roll on the garden path,
wrapped with the bronze leaves of the fall.
Their rustle echoes your songs for me,
long lost beyond the still shore of silence.
When in the seraphic spring
you are embraced by the sparkle of a new life
you will never know
how much I miss your world
that does not remember me.
as pain within swells
to a heightened level
origin belied expectation
of null love reciprocation
such contortions tainted
delusions self anointed
do not stay with us long
as we sing the love song
reverberations of our soul
keeping us joyful & whole
birthing a throb continuous
manifesting bliss fortuitous
as a current ever present
within our heart resident
as soundless bliss ignition
ecstasy defying delineation
being our native element
divine entwined alignment
thus getting to stabilisation
rapid bliss hum restoration
stuporous thoughts rested
with ego delusion arrested
the flame of joy ever alive
to the beat to which we jive
acceptance ceasing to size
recognition where we realise
that each turbid movement
depends upon attachment
to nurture its life illusionary
viewed in stillness sedentary
from the centreless fulcrum
of our awareness sensorium
the play of life thus enacted
finding we have not reacted
unfed by us the source bursts
whilst we as a mist yet thirst
for love
24-September-2020
Deposited, held in Amazon's Adonis arms
Hidden inhospitably stashed, kite shadow
Curled furtive, stairway stupefied windshield
Hallucinations lag languished in amusement
Monkeys freeze, screech scamper scratch
Egg smooth roof unscathed cubby abode
Jagged gaps hang fur curtain climbing mates
Swung carefree in cramped homecamp humid
Aghast lopped log rest exhales raggedly
Snapped propeller askew salutes defeat
Wing bent lungs transform fortitude into fuel
Crushed accordion bodied anaconda swivels
Lock jaw latch tight to jungle gym frame
Liquid flow flanks scale, giant slug glued
Fork tongue tastes rain drip following day hope
Fangs prong Coconas sour tomato gold codicil
Cluster juice burst berries, bittersweet bulbs
Knobs of Contreu twisted tangerine vitamin
Fibre feeds faith indispensible, thin torsos entwined
Fight against forbode of abandonment, exhausted
Anonymous Minor Survivors
Middle of Jungle June
Mangled Minds
Mangled Minds entwined with Rhymes,
My brother’s repeat this nonsense,
Once brilliant men, now lost my kin,
Just ramble in confusion,
Many a man that I’ve met on life’s road,
Has endured the weight of trials untold,
And some survived to thrive and die,
But most just fell, into this hell, that sometimes still afflicts me,
Where are you God? And are you fair? For then these men needed you most, you
didn’t seem to be there.
And this is the fate which grabbed many a man,
Who stood the tied, and proclaimed Christ to this land,
And I wonder if, it is not finally my lot,
To Join Them.