Long Fondness Poems
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Page 7
We’ll build a wooden structure
With planks torn from our ships
And place it by their gates
Then we wait for the eclipse
Now I know you all have questions
About how I know these things
But I’ve studied all religions
Foreign Nations, Queens and Kings
Some kingdoms honor Bears
Some worship cats and eagles
Some lions, tigers, bears, “Oh My”
Foxes, wolfs and beagles
Now, these Trojans have one fondness
It stands upon four feet
It feeds upon the grassy plains
And they ride it down their streets
We will build it long and sleek
With a tail tacked to its end
And ears, upon its oblong head
But, with one thing more to send
There, concealed inside its belly
Are those who lie in wait
For the beast to be drawn inside
The Trojan’s massive gates
Page 8
So until the sun starts rising
You men must now embark
And assemble the device
While working in the dark
The others on the beach
A distraction will devise
To keep your labor secret
From those Trojan’s prying eyes
Now off with you, behind that mound
I have a party to attend
It’s not often I can have some fun
At the same time to offend
( Troy 1184 BC, The Beach Party )
The Flames of passion darted up
Into the evening air
It made the glittering of sand
Seamed like stars were everywhere
The drums had reached a beat
That made the young men, have to dance
And I’m sure it made The Trojans
Lose control and wet their pants
Page 9
While young men danced on burning sands
Displaying sex appeal
The Greeks would pause and strike a pose
And flex their buns of steel
The Trojans on the wall
Filled with heighten passion soon
Turned their backs and dropped the drawers
Displaying many moons
It seemed as if, we played all night
Now its time to take our chances
Bring forth the horse, and by due course
We all took second glances
The carpenters that worked all night
Had never seen the beast
It was a horrible interpretation
That is to say the least
I should have choose an artist
Much more suited for the task
For instead of building a mighty horse
There stood a giant ass.
No time to make corrections for
The dawn was growing near
We must move without detection
And crawl in through its rear
To be continued...................
From the epic poem, EOS; verse, 7308-7350
by Sir Titus Llewellyn, unpublished
Book ii - Bouquet with Love
Enter Asha - Junior Psychiatric Nurse
& William - Sufferer of schizophrenia
William speaks to Asha as she reads the book
he has written for her........, as you are doing.
William
How dusk has drawn suspicion from your eyes
these visits have become the long lost friend
who writes without reply - that's no surprise
the way I am adoring you, so don't pretend.
hesitates.......
I find that from a patients point of view
ideas are being listened with fondness for
returning, makes believe this has an end
I cannot help but trust you anymore.
gives her the book...
Pursue the words I've left with you in my will
a token of my love in words I cherish,
following the realms that often still
believe in you and care as much until..........
Asha
I have no time to listen - indeed read
the ridicules of someone you'll replace
who disappears tomorrow without trace.
silent pause...
Another cryptic message I'll not need.
William
Just read the words and feel it with your heart.
Decipher what you can without the pledge,
my writing has preferred and having had
a hope in hells chance pulling it apart,
gliding worse, the fate along a knife-edge.
Asha
I'll treasure what appears to be much work,
the task that your imprisonments have purged
preventing ways and means the seethings urged
a while back knowing often, how berserk
your actions were and how this book immerged.
Cannot a tear sufficient to your need
be borrowed like the journey of lost cause,
another real life story, feelings plead
when giving back the care my feeling was?
Tries to kiss her!
I have to go - how dare you do such things
my care, and least devotions are disgraced
the length of duty caring for you placed!
GET REAL!-
needing my mother is a fear I can do without,
Not you! I miss her so much!
Asha exits
William, (bringer of bad news?)
I know - I have bad news and this you'll find,
in time, when superstitions fill with hate
a sentinel of words - what sounder mind,
could echo truth when all that I create
is gifted not a curse but mere sedate.
Slumber from which all our dreams debate.... (pause)
It lingers while this love sustains as time
And sleeps while we awake no time at all.
Truly ... .
What-an-honor, this-sweet-grace ...
perfect a righteous gift-it-is.
The day waiting patiently-in the morning,
coffee-in-hand moccasin slippers-
waking-up-to-it-the-gentle-waterfall-awaiting-me ...
cascading-into-a-shimmering-crystal-
still-fresh-rippling, gently-churning-pool-of-dreams,
the many-wonders-of an alliterate life.
Breathing ... breathtaking-to be sure-it-is-a-chore-itself ...
it-takes-time.
Round and round-a throw-down-
in-and-out-tic-tock-goes the clock-
knock-it-down-drag-it out-
though-it-may-be-a-crucial, bloody,
treacherous seemingly listless brutal ...
bruising, got beaten-up-again, lowdown hoedown-
gasping-for air-sometimes-
discouraging ... kind of-a-thing ... .
Sill-so-it-gets-up-early-raring-to-go,
continues fighting ...
with mercy in hand-
forgiveness-taken-into-the-battle with-it,
it-can't be-lost.
Can't be lost.
Tender tales tall tell-timely
in-earnest the-fervency ... divinity-relevancy,
reality of-the-story.
Stars shine-cast-their-beauty-liberally ...
sheen's of glassy rays-of-overt light-
sparkle-freely-in-their delight-
under-the-moon-laughter ...
fills the-night ... .
Swallows in their benignity ...
wade about puff-up-full-and-billow ...
shadow's in their whimsy way,
cast their welcoming ...
in-the-warming,
as the weeping tree weeps.
Cool-pools shallow of-crystal-rock-and-alabaster-sands
promote their-gentle fondness upon the pond floor.
Kindred the swallows in-their-promise,
beauty-benignity ...
in-the-moonlight-they-are one with love,
and running felicitous ...
touched by the union
follows closely the dove ...
divinity has found a home.
Liberty residing-evolving-
evermore-abounding well-
beside desire,
the heart-makes-haste.
Peace stakes its claim in faith,
in-the-Son's-glorious-arrival, abandon,
absolution, return.
Cast-about-in-the gesture,
blowing-free-in the wind growing-
abundantly like the humming bird-
sipping on wild-honey-dripping-
fresh-in-the-rising Summer-Sun ... .
Splashing-onto dew-drops-
glistening as you-know-
they always do lying upon lilac-
flower petals, dandelions-
growing even-more-
elaborate-carried along-
with-the-blueberry-
cakes-popcorn-soda-
I've-just-consumed ... .
Mind, intellect ego, nor echoes they spell,
Nor sense of hearing, speech, nor of smell,
Nor am I earth, fire, air, nor yet space,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
Nor vital Life-force, nor five breath fields,
Seven essences, nor five body shields,
No limbs of action make what me is,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
Likes nor dislikes, I’ve greed, nor fantasy,
Pride nor conceit, envy nor jealousy,
Nor any pursuits of life do I miss,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
Happiness nor sorrows, virtue nor vice,
Chants, pilgrimage, Vedas nor sacrifice,
Food nor fondness, nor one that relishes,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
I’ve Death nor doubt, nor faith in wombs of worth,
Father nor mother nor I’ve any birth,
Kin, friend, guru nor disciples on earth,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
One alone, shape nor size, nor form any,
Pervasive, rife everywhere, in senses,
I’ve freedom, nor bondage, peace, poise is me,
I’m Shiva, awareness and bliss.
__________________________________________________
From aatma shatakam or nirvaana shatakam, six verses on atman, written by Shankaracharya of 8th century CE. Transliteration of the Sanskrit text is given here:
manah-buddhi-ahamkara-chittani na aham,
na cha kshotra-jihve na cha ghrana-netre |
na cha vyoma bhumih na teja vayuh
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||1 ||
na cha prana-sanjnyah na vai pancha-vayuh,
na va sapta-dhatuh na va pancha-koshah |
na vak pani-padau na cha upastha-payu
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||2 ||
na me dvesha-ragau na me lobha-mohau,
madah na eva me na eva matsarya bhavah |
na dharmah na cha arthah na kamah na mokshah,
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||3 ||
na punyam na papam na saukhyam na duhkham,
na mantrah na tirtham na vedah na yajnyah |
aham bhojanam na eva bhojyam na bhoktah
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||4 ||
na me mrtyu-shanka na me jati bhedah,
pita na eva me na eva mata na janma |
na bandhuh na mitram guruh na eva shishyah
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||5 ||
aham nir-vikalpah nir-akara-rupah,
vibhuh vyapya sarvatra sarva indriyanam |
sada me samatvam na muktih na bandhah,
chit-ananada rupah shivah aham shivah aham ||6 ||
Translations |05.08.2021|
The evening air spreading its soft chill,
Playing with the blue mountain to nature's will,
New snow flakes engulfs the barren hills,
Taming my heart with tender warmth and thrills.
At the inn the keeper holds a lighted candle,
For us to follow with our packaged bundle,
With grace I wish to avoid a scandal,
Watch my man close the lone door by its handle.
Firewood burns in the wooded homestead,
Spreads it warmth over the snug cushioned bed,
Waits to partake in our action unsaid,
Melting moments for me to love or dread.
Delightful face turns to look up to me,
Candid sensuality in phantoms plea,
Urges me to be forthwith naked and free,
Passion denudes barriers under siege.
Anticipation now burns to aspire,
Taut space between our naked bodies perspire,
And I blush in its heat with hot desire,
Keep my eyes closed as he sets me afire.
Intoxicants flame touched by libations
Sequesters inflamed wet-lip deviations,
Within pleasure kiss gratification,
Outraging tongue's in communication.
Open my eyes to his tactile fondness,
Soon hands engage the spherical hardness,
Force me to opt with resoluteness,
And lie on my back touched by tenderness.
My desperate palms crawl over his back,
Nuptial quivers awake rapture's with knack,
Crazy teeth dig and wildly bite his neck,
Betwixt the legs he performs his attack.
In anticipation I surrender,
As he sets to probes the naked blunder,
Rave’s down the silky valley to plunder,
Unzipped by the latent strike, I thunder.
Reeling from the quick fervent thrusts I cry,
With rage responding to his sadist try,
As he pulls back to enter and defy,
Totally exposed I shudder and sigh.
Quaking with delirious pleasure I cuddle,
Both legs entrapped within the carnal struggle,
Brace quivering bottom in the muddles,
As petals rock within the moist puddles.
Smiling at my denuded enslavement,
Holding my arms in ardent deployment,
Torments my frail defiance with enjoyment,
While his knee's direct steady placement.
Seething with resistance his hardness grows,
Raw power sustaining his taming blows,
Ecstasy mows the bulging heat to sow,
Freely we climax in its cosmic flow.
Begs reprieve for his ebbed shrunken demands;
While in love he obeys all my commands.
The swings you go through with a child
Are not unlike a coaster wild.
The terror, stark, when they arrive:
“How do I keep this kid alive?”
“What idiot allowed discharge,
And placed with me a care so large?”
When you have lost all hope of sleep,
And dark depression settles deep,
Then you will wonder in despair,
“How long, O Lord, too much to bear!”
But then, when first she smiles at you,
And suddenly dawn’s light breaks through!
Until the day you feed her meats
And gagging, retching, white as sheets,
You’re sorely pressed by toxic waste,
And all that fondness fades, erased
By thoughts you banish from your mind,
“How could I ever been so blind
To think this nasty little brute
Was a delight, a darling, cute?”
But then she talks, she says your name;
You’re launching to the moon again!
This surely is the pinnacle,
Parental heights you’ve scaled in full.
But comes the dark night of the soul;
Your daughter’s now thirteen years old.
Who is this alien life form?
When will your days resemble norm?
The slightest thing; all hell breaks loose:
A train that’s led by its caboose!
Back on the tracks, to wreck again,
Of late, you pray, “Why, God?” and “When,
When will this horrid phase be through?”
Completely unbeknownst to you,
This phase, designed, the needed fuel
To send her, gladly, off to school.
And then you sit, an empty home,
Berate yourself in brooding gloam
As night falls on parental days
And you imagine all the ways
that trouble will befall your child,
How by the world she’ll be defiled
And grieve and want her in your arms
In safe protection from all harm.
And after school, she needs you less
Until it’s time to buy the dress.
For her, elation and much joy!
For you, “And just who is this boy?”
But as you learn, she’s picked a man,
All goes according to the plan,
And you have this to comfort you,
For it is clear he loves her too.
So for a time, you are at peace;
The cycling has much decreased.
And yet, when they have fully grown,
Then suddenly you want them home.
You yearn for time spent with their kids
At intervals the miles forbid.
And if you’re being honest, too,
You’re hoping they’ll take care of you.
But looking back, it’s all a win;
You’d gladly take this ride again.
Tender tales tall tell timely in earnest the fervency... divinity relevancy, reality
of the story. Stars shine bright cast their beauty liberally, sheen's of glassy rays of overt
light sparkle freely in their delight. Under the moon laughter... fills the night.
Swallows in their benignity... wade about puff up full and billow... shadow's in their whimsy
way, cast their welcoming in the warming, as the weeping tree weeps tears full as cool pool
shallows of crystal rock and alabaster sands promote their gentle fondness upon the pond
floor. Kindred the swallows in their promise, beauty-benignity... in-the moonlight they are one
with love, and running felicitous ... touched by the union follows closely the dove ... .
Divinity-has found a home.
Liberty residing evolving evermore-abounding well beside desire. The heart makes haste.
Peace stakes its claim in faith, in the Son's glorious arrival, abandon, absolution, return.
Cast about in the open gesture, blowing free in the ease of the wind growing abundantly like
the humming bird sipping on wild honey dribbling off the bees nests fresh in the rising
Summer Sun... .
Splashing onto dew drops glistening as you know they always do lying upon lilac flower
petals, dandelions growing even more elaborate carried along with the blueberry cakes
popcorn and soda I've just consumed... .
Yes mid the dance of the weeds love, is a gift, of life. Given perfect union, form, fashioning,
purpose. Advancing onward outward-upward throughout all within all around us surrounding
us as it grows.
And hearing the sweetness of its cry.
All in flight... birds-come fluff up billow grow full make their refuge-mid His wake... ! God's
Joy, illustrious welcome lay anew under the sky's elucidated everywhere and there, peace, is
here... every way and lea way dancing in and between the light, and as for now... time lye
still... . Is thrown about and back again, time and again everywhere asunder, and I-feel truly
He's saying to all of us... as again He states this to me...
"Take the time... friend... "Hold on"".
"I've got you... ."
"Everything... will be all right... !"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-VCHzS1So&feature=related
You know me as a poet, and writer of poems sad,
I take poetic license, violating rules and conventions;
telling a story using figurative language, I share,
my life's journey and sorrows in beautiful words.
Few beyond this safe harbor have read my poetry,
I write with raw emotion and I lay my soul bare;
my poems are my treasures and I keep them hidden,
oh, fathomless is the pain.
My view on life is somewhat sadly fatalism,
my destiny foretold, it is already written;
there are many facets to me that I share with few,
oh, classical music moves me to write my poetry and words;
I love Chopin, poet of the piano, Mozart, oh that lyrical charmer.
And I am a lover of art, going to the art gallery weekly,
I love Van Gogh, Degas, Pissario, Bernini and Botticello;
Leonardo and of course, Michelangio, I could go on and on.
I am also fascinated in the architecture in my city.
Often, I just walk the streets looking for beauty,
admiring Gothic revival with its arches and vaults;
and I love the Victorian building where I reside,
with my cat.
I have a small garden, created with a love for nature,
a tribute to my mother's great fondness of flowers.
the things you may not imagine about me are many, for example
I adore vintage jewelry and clothes, and antique anything;
and I am a collector of books, reference, dictionaries, all in a clutter.
And one last thing that I find so very odd and strange,
is that although since childhood I have walked with death;
and death haunts me- I am quite happy, although quite internal,
and I do love and absolutely need my silence.
_________________________________
July 30, 2015
Poetry/Verse/All That I Am
Copyright Protected, ID 30-695-897-30
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to Standard Contest # 260,
sponsor, Brian Strand
Fifth Place
_____________________________
Submitted to Standard contest, 100 In A Row #1,
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Fifth Place
_______________________________
Submitted Premier to the contest, All That I Am
sponsor, C. Puddifoot,
Seventh Place
(a salvation for my then junior high school youngest daughter afflicted with cognitive dissonance, who over the intervening years (mor'n half dozen Earth orbitz ago), I dashed off this poem witnessed nothing short of miraculous transformation evinced and witnessed by profound learning displaying significant aptitude cognition).
twas spawned fondness
for above named young lady,
when she got assigned
to thine offspring
a glint of genuine virtue grew
into shimmering orb
of brilliant radiance
if accorded sound - would ring
the tune of countless angels,
which imagined beatific,
Democratic, fantastic...sounds
generated via many wing
heavenly music filling
cosmos with joy as august aural,
choral, epochal...tones
would zippily zing
from across universe
spurring one me silly mortal
to contrive this verse
attempting to capture her
aura, charisma, enigma...purse
sue wing dynamic link
with progeny did nurse
emotional and spiritual value
dedication she did immerse
latent social services skill
plus natural radiance
a blessed hire
at Central in Norristown, Pennsylvania,
whose visits i miss lyre
plucking voice
stilled concern for precious Shana Punim,
who aspires to challenge and grow
this father may spill tears
his lessoned fatherhood role
n'er did aye tire
and glad fate that though our paths
will probably not criss cross
curiosity will gnaw within noggin,
and possibly rub raw minor loss
viz, the persevering
maiden USA touch of Kim
lichened to moss
in her rooted cultivation of care
toward biological lass a lucky toss
of the genetic combination
from Matthew
and Abby Harris our jewel
shimmering facets of luminescence
reminding me human
gem stone a kool
aid - priceless staff member
of human league,
whose golden presence doth gently rule
without doubt a beloved
unbridled priceless counterpart
some lucky guy
pledging his troth yes – she yule
see stars in her eyes
no doubt disappointment
felt by other guys
envious of he,
who snagged Kimberly Hartzell
so worthy and wise!
I was a red-violet, sunny morning person, usually up at the crack of dawn,
When orange light poured from the east, upon revival, dewy green lawns.
With a cup of aromal coffee, I'd watch yellow sunrise creep in the window,
Enjoying the zestful song of red robin, while night and day were in limbo.
I would take walks at the golden hour, flooded in light, just after a sunrise,
In the serenity of wanton, floral summer, slowly unveiling a destiny prized.
Visits of friends were features of morning, for sunup fondness is infective,
As flowers soak up colors of white sunlight, telling of the new perspective.
Family and I fascinated flaming sunsets, fancy dancing like we had forever,
At evening fetes, long fated; like feathery, dark green ferns-wind treasure.
I lived in the house of taupe sunrise, always trending towards golden noon,
As fitful stars, flickering like fireflies, stay on course, in presence of moon.
Sunhats, sandals and pretty sunflowers, were summer sights on my street,
In tranquil days of wild seas, giving the selfsame roar, as it cooled hot feet.
Nearby stars gleamed like natural pearls, on nebulous nights of neighbors;
And the natural conversation flowed nonstop, like the whistling wind labors.
Bat orchids awaited watchful moon, yearning for caves among field flowers;
When ballerina orchids danced, entranced, by plum shadows' magic powers!
Crimson corpse flower was blooming, in a torrid wake, held in lazy summer,
And snapdragon seed pods imitated skulls, where future flowers slumbered.
One day dawned exceptionally beautiful, a sight bringing rapture to my eyes;
As plum and orange, merged with pink, gold and red-fleeing night disguised!
I went about my productive work, but I noticed the day did not seem to age,
Like a glorious history book caught open, when distraction didn't turn a page.
Although I was very puzzled, I relished a pause for precious, pretty mystery;
Like the lovely, floral pause of gemmed hummingbirds, in times of blissfully.
After several long and rapturous hours, testy time gradually began to move,
For a beginning ever looks towards the end, as if it had everything to prove!