Long Foggy Poems
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Raindrops fell in a periodic, solemn way
On this gloomy, foggy, gray stricken day
I searched for the sun, all day long
Just to find a melody for life’s song
But, the sun kept hiding and I did not find
All the warmth I needed to finally, unwind
Rain on and off couldn’t make up its mind
Reflecting the way I am, when I’m in a bind
Yes, I searched for the sun, all day today
Not wanting to wallow in any kind of dismay
But, here I am counting raindrops…
As if answers will suddenly splash
In front of a magnify glass on my eyelash
To amplify, clarify, what it is I long for to smile
These gloomy days feel like a long traveled mile
And at the end, there is no turning back to run
Only steps forward, still searching for the sun
Heidi Sands
4/29/21
Before the sunrise
Of Thanksgiving morning in Michigan
I test out loud
At the kitchen table
A few of my poems to my golden retriever
Who sits and listens with his head cocked
Confused at my knee…
"Did he say the word…walk…yet?" Panting.
Well, after that hidden rehearsal
And a bloom outside of azure daylight
The house comes alive
With a parade of grandchildren feet
And a chorus of good mornings
Orange juice pourings.
So the dog and me we trot out back
Onto my deck that creaks
Beneath
Our boots and paws like frosted planks
On a wooden ship.
The backyard trees
Sway
As dancers of bone in the new cold,
Connected at the elbows
Careening on ankles
To the half-frozen forest ballroom floor.
Arrows of geese
Release
And pass by overhead
Honking their jalopy horns
Wings thudding against the gray sky
Like a broom beating a dusty carpet
Hung from a line.
The Earth has aged
Lost her color
Her luster
Turned to foggy breath of stone.
In that in-between of harvest’s final faint light
And the birth of Christ
A month from now
Like a seed
In the deepest darkest time
There remains this moment
To bow your head and Give Thanks
For mercy and life.
And only then
May Christmas and New Years
Come at our throats.
For now, it is Thanksgiving.
Broken Glass
Bits of color...
washed up on the beach.
Items that tell stories,
about faraway places,
new people, and old.
Red like roses, fine wine in winter...
Yellow like the flowers in spring.
Blue, the very sky,
captured and revisited
in forever's embrace.
Green, meadows un-mowed,
and trees yet unclimbed
somewhere in our minds,
remembered.
Chrystal clear windows
to the mountains in the distance,
and some...
foggy summer sandblasted,
by the deserts of thirst.
Rainbows on the ground,
found all around,
to turn our entire world...
upside down.
Collected and treasured,
a gift beyond measure
trash turned to pleasure
with a smile.
ON NOVEMBER
Smoggy foggy November Sky:
Starry fairy ready to fly
to Earth on visit as artist,
fluttered downy wings to resist
the intermittent wintry breeze,
floating, gliding, swooping at ease.
Reached Earth at dawn: Met butterfly.
Glistened dewdrops tending to dry.
To sip honey, blooms to insist.
Fairy took sip, bees to assist.
Fairy danced on furrows with crease
of feral field amidst tall trees.
She stood on strand, stream flowing by.
On rippling waves peeped a small fry.
She watched creepers on curly twist
and took tendril to tie on wrist.
Chilled November wind not to cease.
Plants sighed for dry leaves to release.
‘Sweetness of fruits to multiply,
Scent of rose to intensify’-
November always optimist.
Fairy smelt rose as a florist.
Charm on Earthly tour to increase.
Glad to see pair of golden geese.
Periwinkles twinkled: Looked shy!
Starry fairy smiled to say ’Hi!’.
Shimmering Sun sent rays from East.
clearing vision through hazy mist.
Trip over: To leave Earth's premise
Fairy flew with some cranberries.
10/31/20
Second Place
Checked syllables on Divide into syllables Syllable counter dictionary.
'Lay November' Contest by William Kekaula
On a velvet night, under a sky sprinkled with stardust,
realism, like a broken mirror, fails to reflect the whole truth,
it diminishes reality, thins it out, falsifies it, losing its essence,
it does not take into account our fundamental truths and deep obsessions:
love, death, wonder – all lost in the shadows of reason.
Man, presented in a reduced and distant perspective,
like a vague figure in a foggy painting, loses his inner brilliance,
for truth is not found in the strict outlines of reality,
but in our dreams, in our imagination, where magic and mystery find shelter.
In a world of gray and monotony, love fades like a candle in the wind,
but in our dreams, it burns like an eternal flame, illuminating the darkness,
and death, that inevitable end, becomes just a gateway to other realms,
where our souls dance freely, like spirits of light, in the vast unknown.
Wonder, that spark of magic that opens our eyes to miracles,
is lost in the daily routine, in the cold pragmatism of realism,
but in our imagination, it blooms like a crystal tree,
in every thought, in every dream, showing us the way to infinity.
Truth, that diamond hidden in the depths of our being,
reveals itself only in moments of dreaming, when we let reality dissolve,
and we lose ourselves in fantasies, in untold stories, in worlds of magic and beauty,
where every moment is a miracle, and every breath, a symphony of life.
In the endless flow of consciousness, my thoughts float like golden clouds,
seeking hidden meanings, eternal truths, in the vastness of imagination,
and I know that only there, in those distant realms, can I find the human essence,
for only in our dreams, in our imagination, does truth come to life,
and we, like poets of our own existence, can discover
that we are more than mere shadows in the world of reality,
we are dreams of light, lost in the eternal night,
and only in those dreams, can we find our true brilliance.
The human soul is not a commodity
The soul is a part of life. Just part of God
The soul is a part of God. The gift from God
Soul. Sensitive. Living. Independent creation
Windstorm, quiet peace. Full of dreams and war
The human soul is not a product, not a good
I am not a slave of foggy psychologists
I know your income. Do not be richer from my life
Foggy psychologists, get away from my life
The soul is the soul. Independent life, will, and fantasy
Who can drive the soul? Who is the ruler of the soul?
Of course, the psychology. Psychology! Psychology!
I don’t need this misty psychology in my life. Just life
I am a human. An invidium. I don’t want foggy psychology
In my life. Just peace. Fields, lakes, forests, walks, nature.
The soul is independent
The soul has no limits
The soul is independent
This will come from God
Psycholgy
Not from
God
Soul
Free
God
There's no heaven above me
And the world's getting mighty ugly
I need a good heart to come and hug me
Father the world's getting ugly
And it seems there's no heaven above me
As I sit starring at the wall
From the sky, I watch the stars fall
Given this talent, this oddly balance
I never had a mother or father
Who brought into this world and why bother?
Death being a made sacrifice
Who wants to live twice in this life?
Tidal waves, mud slides, and desperate housewives
Baby girl go lay your thoughts down and get some rest
Let go of your stress & lay your head across my chest
Just let me burn, calm at sea
Just read my palms and let me be, cant you see
There's no heaven above me
And the world's getting mighty ugly
Needs a good heart to come and hug me
Father the world's getting ugly
And it seems there's no heaven above me
Granted that we are promised, "A second coming"
Blown trumpets, Reckoning of angels humming
Now maybe time won't consume my soul
Pneumonia tunes my cold
My shoulders going global
Yet when my tears got heavy, I never once faltered
Right beside me, now I'm cursed at the alter
Webster define me love
In my heart, something warm tells me to look above
My lord, you be with those acquaintance, my friends
Cause tomorrow looking foggy thru this lenses
And I miss being a kid
But how can I reminisce on the things I never did
The storms getting closer
Maybe I'll see the Rapture, through a holster
I put my life on that poster, piss on it & let it burn
No worry, It's none of your concern
Still, there’s no heaven above me
And the world's getting mighty ugly
Needs a good heart to come and hug me
Father the world's getting ugly
And it seems there's no heaven above me
I try to drive, but I know I’m not fit.
The road is bumpy, who’ll take me through?
I try to move forward, but I end up in a ditch.
The weather is foggy, who else will lead me but you?
I need you forever in my life,
Who else guides me all the way, till I’m through?
You are always there for me because of your love.
Forever I desire nothing else, but only you.
Just as the driver controls the wheels of his car,
Take my life as such and guide me on the path which Thou has chosen for me.
And just as the pigeon feed her babies with food from her mouth,
Feed me with the word of Thy mouth for in Thy Word is life.
A co-pilot? No! I don’t need a co-pilot,
I need You to come and live in my heart,
I do not want my ways to be of just a lot,
Just direct my path to the place where Thou art.
Just as I am, I come to Thee,
I accept that I have sinned,
Please cleanse and set me free,
So that to the ground, I’ll not be pinned.
I never wanna leave Your presence,
Keep me in your light,
Free me from ill conscience,
Guide me to follow Your path.
Just as the followers of a shepherd are the sheep,
So are the followers of Jesus Christ Christians.
If I call myself a Christian indeed,
Let Jesus Christ be the only One I need.
Arise o my soul,
Be strong and march forward.
Or else life would be a woe,
So always remember the direction to move, ‘forward’.
What kind of God is this?
That what ‘ere that I do is filthy in His eyes?
Being destined to destruction like a fish,
All I need is Your mercy to make me cold new as Ice.
Upon all my crimes You still came to die for me,
And has made me as valuable as Yourself,
You’ve made me know that You even love me more than I do love myself,
I now pray that to Your sanctuary, You bring me.
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Jesus being my provider,
I need not to be in sorrow,
He’ll take care of me forever.
Born in white, I am asked to journey in mud,
How am I supposed to walk in mud without soiling myself?
I saw a Man, who said He’ll make me even better than just a lad,
He said “all you’ve got to do is to repent and ask for it yourself”.
There’s power in His voice!
He commandeth the storm to be quiet,
It is not with mere noise,
But with grace from where He abideth.
one evening we were rounded up
it was our turn to go
we weren’t sure where we were headed
we had our doubts it wasn’t good
the men with guns meant business
and who were we to question
all aboard the midnight carrier
that foggy cold September
no one knew for sure
no one could believe
people were never heard from
the rumors had been plenty
men women and children
they crammed us in
just faceless nameless cattle
led astray from greener pastures
the train charging well on through the night
the stench of fear more than we could bear
the train pulled into Auschwitz
and in the chaos that ensued
we understood the war was over
we’d taken the last train to Auschwitz
and in the daylight we could now see
those blood drenched murderous tracks
that had moved the innocent like cattle
to the slaughterhouse
Read on air by invitation ~ July 17, 2022 'POETS HARBOUR'
AP: 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2025, 3rd place 2022
Submitted on April 9, 2021 for contest LAS TRAIN TO AUSCHWITZ sponsored by KAI MICHAEL NEUMANN - RANKED 4TH
ubiquitous in sounds and silences
constancy its own enchanting entity
the ebb and flow of nurtured routine
vibrates a pulse intimately familiar
seasoned in delicate grooves and patterns
the formality of most minute rituals
afloat bathing in delightful energies
peppered potential for adventure
the rhythm sweet in its harmonics
adrift in hazy foggy remembrances
ripple effect through a morning daze
the day slowly morphing into focus
shapes and sounds swirling
knock at the door of suspended reality
the gently waking from a drowse
come in ~ i want to hesitate
float idle in suspended oscillation
if only for a few more treasured moments
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~MINDFULLY~ 2021
AP: 2nd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2021