Long Forging ahead Poems
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Echos of long past
haunt my thoughts
as the verdant valley
stretches before my light dazzled eyes
I imagine the pioneers
forging ahead
and what I see now
are the remains
of these trails they forged
marked
as wagon wheels
indelebley upon the ground
I imagine the women
in their hooded coverings
stirring up pots of baked beans
but Annie Oakley
probably was never indited
for stooping to that low
the wild west was not for the faint hearted
as Indians rode roughshod over
soldiers
who wore their brave hearts upon
muskets of forged steel
hammering out triumphant blissful sounds
of conquest
these days were both exciting and grueling
testing
the mettle of women and of men
as they eaked out their existence
time and time again.
This morbid 2020 is coming to its end.
Please love your family and all of your friends.
We are far more important than political views.
Keep forgiveness in your hearts, we have all paid our dues.
Our differences make us unique and never forget.
Most of us knew each other when our ears were still wet.
We are still the same souls, remember that kid at heart.
Together we are strong so let’s never drift apart.
I value you all, you are important and you matter.
We are all different ingredients that make up a great batter.
Life is short, keep in mind what really counts.
We all have our struggles, just in different amounts.
Keep forging ahead, take each day as they come.
It’s ok to march to the beat of a different drum.
Be yourself and try not to judge.
Live for today and don’t hold a grudge.
Painting my soul in inks; that clumps my sincerity
Heart home my hands; to ache the nature's artistry
Hope is not dying forever; the fades of time
Hero of the grace; death note the books its permanent form
Publisher clearing up fame; rest on the words rope's lead
It won't tarry for blue; disgusting to force it for plead
Bewilderment of ideas in your illusions; book the one you think beneath predicts
Booing the chase of endeavours; cease not focus to your convenience forfeits
For title not we write, right is that to heal
Treasure not means to live; in it I found my meal
Aiding others to see, to rid off drowning in life's sea
Plight my heart tie; unties minds dismissal
For liberalization I hand sketch; a wonderful missal
That front attainment; one in grace be man so ambrosial
Lighting the universe; with one ancient cord
The power of unrelentingness; a tool of little mix in words
Regarding sense of bearing; for individual rewording
It is of my freewill; forever to cease not still
Truly, I borrowed my heart to earth; I surrendered it to poetry drill
Forging ahead the diagram; the world shall return to work its will
Happy world international poetry day
From my earliest memories I knew something was wrong,
I felt trapped in a place, where I didn’t belong.
Standing in mud with no solid ground.
Loved ones close by, but never around.
A forced smile always hid, what I was feeling deep down.
Half my life under water, but yet I did not drown.
My outward reflection was beautiful in the light,
but my demons beat me down in the shadows of night.
I had nowhere to run and only one place to hide.
I kept forging ahead, with little to no pride.
Would fair to midland, always be the best achieved?
There just had to be an answer, at least that’s what I believed.
Each night I would sink back into the mud,
and then rise every morning back out of the crud.
As I search for my answer, I blindly wander this earth.
I look for redemption, and a magical rebirth.
January 1, 2021
LOTUS OF MY HEART Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Forging ahead, means so much to so many folks
for myself this means multi-planetary inhabitation...
this is a great undertaken cause many think it's a hoax,
Space X doesn't think so, nor I, as a matter of fact...
we need to hurry, hurry on up there, establish human,
existence, not to perish like dyno's did, stay focus on that,
why now, well we can, need to provide all people a living...
"one universal work force for humanity to survive",
think what this will accomplish, ramifications' stayin' alive
doom also gloom can happen any day, every day we do not...
launch our spaceships, set up infer-structure to these means
like turning our head, when passing homeless, also 'r' astronaut's
Peace within the heart for nothing else will do
you gave all you had now time will follow through
Quick satisfactions are disappointing for they lapse
anything worth lasting needs time not to collapse
Labors sweat and toil with planning complete
minutes become hours into days begetting weeks
Relationships on hold work wide and clear
once completed those ignore blessed with profit to share
Work is a duty for living needs a choice
a purpose for being gives the world your voice
Tired but never weary forging ahead
dreams never reality lying around in bed
When the work is done and night whispers for rest
Call it a day knowing in pride you did your best
We all suffer from this annoying affliction.
Writers block can be challenging, like a junkie’s addiction.
A good garbage ink can do wonders for the soul.
Attaining perfection is not usually the goal.
Whether they are words of wisdom or a description of nature.
Some write about politics or their divine creator.
Try something different, try something new.
Keep forging ahead through the poetry blues.
Some words will flow and some will not.
It’s not the end of the world just work with what you’ve got.
Take a look around, soak it all in and grow.
Your muse will return and show you it’s glow.
When you least expect it, your words will just flow.
Don’t ever think that you’ve reached your plateau.
Your block will let loose of its stranglehold.
Your muse will come back with more words of gold.
The Enigmatic Middle C
by Odin Roark
How lonely
Might that in between place be,
Where water from trickle beginnings
Modulates into wakes,
The upward span,
Then downward stretch,
Forging through minor and major choices,
Embracing half tones of engagement,
Carrying a merging forth of discovery,
Becoming a torrent
Containing both high
And low resonance,
Searching connective tremolos for oneness,
Finding innocence too must give way
As sensory reaches beyond comprehension,
Where the journey to ascending chance,
Converges proudly with the crescendo of eternity’s unsolved mystery.
And then there comes the uncovering…
This state of mind where new lessons to be learned
Conjoin this forever gathering of cosmic virility,
Where energy’s often dissonant questions
Start from ancestral middle fulcrums,
Branching its reach beyond scale,
Dancing with lightness of weight,
Tip-toeing upon the notes of power
Into cautious voices forging ahead,
Always remaining of purpose,
Yet often clashing as contrapuntal mistakes.
A child might hear the echo,
As octaves of like innocence reaching skyward
Enjoin rising fathoms from below,
Becoming one in harmony.
Such is the improvisation of life’s exploration,
Searching for tomorrow’s final chorus,
Where one’s once center being,
Youth’s springboard arch,
Finally becomes the never ending center
Of perpetuity’s orchestral gift,
That striving to live what life can be,
And then what it might become,
That spanning far beyond yesteryear’s Middle C,
Where the measured spans of equidistance
Ascend the borderless boundaries of one’s inner-self.
In the amalgamation of days, we forge a merciless kingdom,
Telling stories of a future where fear and betrayal share a cold kiss.
A land of howling blizzards, where the heart freezes to find its place,
In a battle for surface, where all tread upon each other, so that no one sees anymore.
Thirsting for a painful progress, we cultivate thorns in the fields of thought,
Cloaked in silk garments, hiding a dreadful and cruel truth.
We desire technological advancement, yet we grow more lost in humanity's soil,
Where the soul melts into steel, and we no longer adorn ourselves with the flowers of our own feelings.
We will raise fortresses of iron, forging ahead on dark paths,
Building an inverted Eden, where pleasure is banished, tears - currency of exchange.
We crown progress with crowns of thorns, scripting our own treaty of rich pains,
A utopian hell in which we all live, but no one dares to dream anymore.
And what do you see now, the shimmer of this world we create?
It is a tragic truth, for harshness is the path we willingly assume step by step.
More adept at hiding its face, yet with each moment, more savage in its name,
Towards a frontier of shadows, where even love is transformed into thin, cold chains.
The earth beneath us succumbs to the squealing of dehumanization's wheels,
We grow quieter in indignation, yet more rebellious in the imprint of silence.
We build an altar of remorse, where we sacrifice the last drops of daring compassion,
And in this iron liturgy, we discover that progress is, in fact, the pyre on which we burn.
George Washington would never believe it and call it a crying shame. I have observed the prohibition of prayer in public schools. Free speech is not free but is for sale to the highest bidder. Moreover, there is an attitudinal atmosphere suggesting that any speech that is not my own should be abridged, censured, or abolished. Traditional norms and family values are dropping like flies under the spell of pesticides. The Bible is considered to be narrow-minded hate-speech. I have seen people terrorized, their civil rights decertified and denied. Moral values have been devalued, set aside, and liquidized; Constitutional rights are diluted, disputed, and no longer solidified. Whatever happened to the great 'thinkers'? I have noticed the terminal illness and demise of noble ideas. Education is being replaced with political persuasion and propaganda.
Abraham Lincoln would never accept it and call it a crying shame. Minority rights are being revised, realigned, reassigned, and redefined. I have witnessed human rights ignored, disregarded, and not prioritized. The cultural revolution is forging ahead in jet-propulsion speed like there is no tomorrow nor time of reckoning. Belief in evolution is man's best hope for a future without accountability. There are no absolutes nor need for resolution. Majority rights are brought into question, unguaranteed, and in retreat. Equal rights are desired but unclarified, undefined, and unobtained. I have beheld the orchestrated disappearance of common sense, and before long we shall be worry-free because 'Big Brother' will always come to our defense. Alien rights are well protected, highly promoted, and unwisely provided. There is a free admittance of subjectivity and the utter rejection of objectivity. I started to weep when I realized that sanity is being burned at the stake. I'm hoping and praying that we return to our senses before it's too late.
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