Long Imagining Poems
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Erasing the past, yet blessing
The promise of yesterday, the graceful
Way she echoes inspirational prose,
Colorful whispers of insight, wisdom
Replacing each melancholic joke
With laughter, smiles, beauty
Flowing through the moments, the
Gentling blows from a silence
Bursting with compassion, imagining
Beckoning hope, the song of joy
Arising from the moment
When music stirs the soul to smile
With the tenderness of a first kiss
The wonder, the feeling of bliss
Creativity – the muse,
Publishing anticipation on the breath
Passions promising to never fade
In the heart, she is living a life
Filled with memories,
Moments on the mind who divide
The present from the past
And guide the spirit to a remembrance
- Every flavor of the sun, light
- Beaming through the overflow
- Repeating the rosy glow
A heart who knows one way
The way of grace, faith, peace
Serenity that never fades away
But always keeps the heart in time
With yesterday’s bruised rhyme!
Painting prompted Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lisa YY
October 22, 2022
Exactly 160 Words
It's getting darker
All the time
I sit alone
It's getting darker
With every poem
I try and include
Another a one single person more
You know the score
No need for or telling you
How stupid and disrespectful of me
Thinking or believing
It's only just poor little me
Who knows
It's getting darker all the time
As you yourself aren't blind either
It's just none of can see
When all the lights have gone out
And we are left
Contemplating and imagining
What is truly going on out there and happening
In the pitch dark journeying on this ride forth
All alone without someone else's
Comforting hand to hold onto
I do not hear you with my brain
which cannot kick in
unless my heart jumpstarts her
and my heart is not hearing you
Brain does not comprehend until the soul yells “yes”
this happens infrequently.
there is no rhyme or method to it.
it is not a planned event.
I can read two hundred poems
without hearing you because Brain is sleeping.
dreaming of other worlds, imagining her next poem
then BAM!
Someone's words cause my soul to do a wild Watusi dance.
suddenly the heart and the mind tango.
we shimmer, shake and slide, brain, mind and soul.
we finally hear you and see you clearly.
In Skagway town, eighteen ninety-eight
Lived a young man, Elliot McKay.
He worked with his father selling dry goods,
To the miners heading Klondike-way,
They made some good coin in a day.
Elliot he, like most younger men,
Had an eye for womanly curves.
His favorite worked in a house downtown,
With dark hair done up in curls,
A woman who’d ‘broadened’ his world.
At first it was cold, but that all changed quick,
And they soon were a regular thing.
She taught him skills a man needs to know,
Really took the boy under her wing,
And knew how to make his heart sing.
But his father said “Boy, don’t fool yourself,
That damned girl wants nothing but cash.
And many a man has found himself broke,
Chasing after a professional lass,
You better get over her fast!”
But Elliot continued, and went when he could
For weeks this went on, as before.
Until one day she asked to meet his kin,
Not the act of some common whore.
She must have loved him like never before!
They went to his house outside of town,
His lady fidgeting and tense,
Elliot knew she must be nervous,
To be meet disapproving parents,
He prayed that his dad would relent.
She entered the home and father went cold,
His face truly taken aback.
His jaw dropped and he said aloud,”Clarice!”
Then she shouted outside,”It’s Mack!”
A new figure stormed in from out back.
A man appeared, a gun in his hand,
Pushing before him Elliot’s mother.
Elliot had seen his likeness before,
It was the felon Bloody Jack Carruthers,
He knew it could be no other.
Jack said,”Now, now, we meet again,
McKay, the man who survived,
When our gang fell down in Monterey,
Shot up back in seventy-five!
Our loot you had on your ride!”
“And now I see how you spent it all,
And made it pay out in droves,
While I rotted away in sweltering cells
Far down south in old Mexico,
Imagining how this would all go!”
“You see this girl here, she is in my pay,
Since I heard that your son took a shine.
She played the damn fool, acted in love,
Until he’d bought into her lies.
And she led me here where I did find…”
“That a dirty skunk, yellow as can be
Built his home on the blood of my friends!
And all because this pretty young girl,
Your stupid, young son could bend.
Now then, prepare for your end…”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
It’s going to blow.
The saxophone sexuality
of a volcanic slumber
has become a thundering in our hearts.
We feel it in the thigh of being
and in the strung valleys
of elbows and knees.
Olives groves and vineyards
tremble in their green dreams.
Village churches stumble
over their stone steps.
Black bedecked widows
plead their prayers under the clamor
of evermore strident bells.
Forewarnings rumble everywhere,
molten threats menace,
hazards hover,
hang and heap upon our heads.
The quaking cone seems nearer.
We tread water upon fretful tracks
the land leans,
is less latched together,
leavers and the lost
move more slowly
wading through
the darkling dust of history,
Imagining now the terraced hills
already sliding to the sea.
To Babylonians, Ptolemy (and me),
The night sky was a glittering sea.
They called them all stars
But (including Mars)
These “observers” were startled to see…
That charting their heavenly courses
And imagining bears, crabs and horses
They moved thru the seasons
But for confounding reasons
Some obeyed differing forces.
They called them “Wandering Stars”.
(We know planets are now what they are.)
But since we conquered the moon,
Who’d have thought that so soon,
From THEIR faces we'd look back at ours.
So transmission lag notwithstanding,
The space craft survived thru its landing,
But a plan to research
From an aerial perch
Was at one time beyond understanding.
Over six years a drone flight was planned.
Could it take off and land on command?
NASA asked it to fly
And did it comply?
TODAY HISTORY WITNESSED FIRSTHAND!
wikipedia.org/wiki/Ingenuity_(helicopter)
Matthew 10:31 “Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.”
While hearts long for the music of light,
breaking through the silence, frail – discerning
the meaning of grace far truer, grace upon grace
grace for the soul who lingers in despair,
grief poured over her spirit by the winds who dare
to remember the suffering of death, of doubt
of all those things that leave the beautiful mist,
a hazy heaven, where night complains
of the shadows who dread the day, the way
through the wounds, the anguish, the quiet misery
who stills the air, breathing heartache
in a million pieces of what it means to see
beyond the skies, beyond the need, beyond the pain
through those satin skies, who reveal to the soul
a spiritual insight, a meaning, a faith
that is more alive than any heart can know
While I pray for healing, for the moment
God sees beneath the pain, beyond the intentions
of my prayers, my praise…
into the silence who reminds me – in the stillness
where I rest my spirit and feel, in His presence,
the meaning of my life – His promise, His sacrifice
the edge of a gentle embrace where I see Him,
listening to my prayers, - He says ask and I ask
He says I will have all I need, because in Him,
I grasp the meaning of contentment, appreciate
the love that senses, comprehends, accomplishes
in me – a blessing that is beyond my imagining,
a blessing of grace, faith, peace – love that abides
so, forever, I’m with the One who gave me life,
the One who has always been by my side,
the One who died and came back to life,
the One who guides me to that heavenly home,
where I’ll meet the song who has always been singing
deep down in my soul, the song of His presence,
pouring out light through my veins, through my notes
into the wonder of a joy that tells me I have a hope –
throughout eternity, I’ll forever know…
the meaning of love is this song that sings on
through every whisper, through every sigh,
a song that breathes – God’s expression of light
softly playing in each stanza of grace and mercy,
providing all the love and peace my heart can bear,
love this amazing is love that I’ll keep praising…
I’ll keep praising! Eternally praising!!!
Scarlet dreams burn through my thoughts
Whispering soft sensations of compassion
Soothing my heart with feelings of hope
Coloring my ideas with hues of inspiration
Belief in the moments filled with gentle
Appreciation for all that God has given me
Azure breathes of truth that promises to
Sigh through my memories to complete
Prayers that I’ve been praying throughout
History, intimately, intently, endlessly
With a sense of assurance that all will be
Blessed by the One who is eternally with me
Emerald seas purify my heart’s embrace,
Caressing me with pledges of sure faith
Vowing to bring me wisdom and strength
Securing the genuine aspiration that lives
And flows from my veins, bleeding heartfelt
Reveries of lasting feelings that feed grace
Amber sunsets brighten the dusk skies
Capturing melancholy on winds of insight
Shading the moon with flavors of life’s joy
Imagining devotions that will always provide
A sense of purpose and fidelity to the heart
Wise sparks that fire gratitude’s warmth
Lilac laces its way through the stars and moon
Quivering with delight, precious charms inside
Which move through the naked skin to entice
Gentle pleasures within, waves of confidence
Flowing through the layers of silky vibrations
Entwined with a dance of praise to the Deity
Gold gladdens the weary heart with music
Notes imprisoned in the breath of nightfall
Living on the edge of tomorrow and misting
The mountain ridges with sweetest pleasures
Silence beckoning throughout the murmuring
Sound of a melody satisfying the hungry spirit
Silvery threads of brilliant light blushing with
Clouds of mystery which intends to plead innocent
To the charges of worry that have gripped the soul
With endless pain and sorrow, misguided doubts
That leave the mind looking for the answers
Praying for the second chances God grants us
Clear, flawless rumors of angels watching over
The one who fears or regrets the past mistakes
Keeping the gospel within reach of the one who
Knows the answers are there in the prayers that
Speak to the Creator with worship and praise
Adoration that honors the One who formed us, the clay!
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (24) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor is Brian Strand
August 18, 2020
I do not want to see her face or hear her voice yet
I am licking my wounds, relishing in my hurt feelings
Not ready to forget, maybe never ready to forgive
Most childish, but please allow me this luxury.
She grovels, but I do not believe her.
I am holding on to my rage, killing myself softly
Outthinking what is happening.
Imagining myself into a frenzy of irritation.
She tries over and over. I do not relent, determined to retain my ego’s hurts.
Forgiveness is not easy coming, I get coaxed into it, by a wiser person.
One who understands that I am truly in a dark place,
created by my own determined ego. My attitude lightens almost immediately.
I feel like an abscessed tooth that just got lanced.
The pressure and the build up so much worse
than anticipated.
Release brings relief.
Written 5-28-2021
Contest: Forgiveness
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Psychedelic Sound
So you look at me and wonder why
I'm this kinda guy who doesn't even try
Seemingly I'm content to just get high
uninterested in your world of suit and tie
If you want a taste of my world I'll help you fly
Yes dipping into my sugar you could die
But me oh my it's better than pumpkin pie
You see I trip on all kinds of crazy
Who knew dreams could make you lazy
Colours are vibrant but the minds goes hazy
Oopsy daisy I know this is not how God made me
Still I'm more than content to groove on paisley
Walk away or come sit down
Stop being so constipated and rule bound
Slippdy do wop over to the dark sida town
Here square pegs like you become round
All of your missing bits won't be found
Yet you'll be flying high laying flat on the ground
loving every colour looking for psychedelic sound
Part of me feels bad I opened up the door
at least you don't fight those demons no more
Here even the concrete feels like a seashore
If you listen right you can hear the waves roar
Live ten years in just a minute or four
The spot you puncture won't even feel sore
Through my fog I heard whispers you were found
eyes glazed over, flat on the ground
I thought I was just imagining the gurgling sound
What's done is done it can't be rewound
You're probably better off under that mound
I would have come to say good bye
But I had a trip to take way down town
You sure were a blast, I'll miss you being around!