Long Immersed Poems
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Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.
When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.
She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.
This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.
She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.
Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.
Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool
was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.
These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.
And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.
But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.
Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”
Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”
Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
There seems to be silence within the serene night,
yet those indoors have eternal cries of unspoken fright.
One man drowns in chocolate, shamefully eying his hips,
as the woman next door kisses the hundredth man’s lips.
Two floors below, one screams out in pain,
as fatal anger has won the game.
The killer, shadowed, makes no remark,
but watches the blood flow, immersed in his soul of eternal dark.
Three doors across, an elderly man sits, rejected and broke,
hiding his face with tendrils of smoke.
His trusty cigarettes always at the ready,
when his finances where never steady.
Another flight down, a woman drowns in her agony sip by sip,
her life seems to slip by like a commercial blip.
Yet all she can think
is that her marriage is on the brink.
Before she fades into the night of another day,
all she remembers is throwing her wedding ring away.
Traveling down to the ground floor,
the troubles seem to equal more.
A woman tosses about in her anxious bed,
while her worries do pirouettes in her head.
Try to let the past and present go,
but the future looms like a horror show.
Outside, in the darkness, a piercing light shines
as a moth flutters by, on the still air it climbs.
It seems this beacon, as bright as the sun,
new hope has just begun.
The moth bangs itself against the glass,
trying to reach glory at last.
Yet no matter how much its antennae bend,
or wings grow fragile and not able to mend,
it seems like the only thing to do
to deal with its feelings, old and new.
Until it steps back and looks at the light
realizing that harming itself won’t set anything right.
With the last of its strength, ending its plight,
the moth flies off into the night.
At this moment, the man decides to rid his house of fat-packed glory,
as the woman on the ground floor takes a deep breath, changing her story.
The killer at large turns himself in,
the end to his years of sin.
The woman pours the bottles of wine down the drain,
finally she can remember her name.
The elderly man exhales his last puff of smoke,
the grueling memories no longer prod and poke.
And the woman kissing her hundredth man
lets him go, heart no longer sinking in deadly quicksand.
The light of dawn finally breaks,
and the darkness of the mind no longer takes
away from the people’s lives
as the light of hope is now by their sides.
Quantities of time feel nothing.
Calculating, accumulating and subtracting,
days and weeks,
months and years and decades
roll past our eyes and ears
our growing and shrinking stomachs
to leave their strong and weak-grooved rings
of satiation and emaciation
I only feel and remember qualities of EarthTime
co-arising passions and co-gravitating pleasures
or dissonant dispassionate and painful reactions
of fear about time's future survivable qualities
anger about oppressive time's past conflicts
burning hot bright volcano hatreds
adrenaline flowing flashes
uncontrollable as suppressed bliss
only completely invested, immersed,
passionately engaged within a resiliently timeless
moment of deeply resonant quality
too seldom aware of Earth's intelligent co-present
co-passionate
co-binary sacred/organic fertility
of divinely humane grace
eternally synergetic dancing
through rationally measured quantities
of merely mortal metric times.
Sacred qualities of time's regenerate evolutions
long to feel everything belonging once again together,
beyond a foggy lapse of co-empathic solidarity
ReLigiously re-membering our golden era
co-relational peaceful qualities
richly feeding on Earth's matriarchal placentas
when all felt now-ly timeless
and originally right
feeling healthy
nurturing trusted truths
of loving kindness
feeling qualitatively good
and warm-full beauty filled.
Perhaps here lies our deeper measure
of time's healthiest meaning-full quality,
economically cooperative
and politically synergetic
and ecologically co-relational
EarthMother organically breeding
and sacredly feeding ecotherapy
Deep dancing
while surface surfing
through this timeless now
of polypathic potential win/win consciousness
Qualitative feelings positive through negative
emerging from and for and through and in and on and over each now
submerging into past speciating
branching co-passion's pleasure impressed re-memories
and dispassion's painful suppressed memories
Trees of old strong-rooted felt re-ligion
qualitatively comparing
contrasting
our original embryonic nurturing qualities
for richer eco-political sacred health
and less EarthMother dis-organic pathology
through this eternally regenerating now
quality of TaoTime's feeling peace-full
pronoia
win/win ego/eco-conscious co-passion.
Seasonal sensational Love
These lovely eyes bracing the glimpse of Trees, Mountain,
And Rain in parallel, Falling in its pioneeringly expressive ways!!
Clutching my attention, Serene beauty stickered on my Heart,
Tantalizing with the rhythm of jazzy shake,
Rain pounded against my window!!
Ringing bells lighted the inner peace,
Mountains dwelled with the green nature band,
Paced off those lovely yards,
The garden green snippet filled my soul with the refreshed air!!
The sun rising across the bay,
Inter tranquillity fluorescenced my soul.
Praising vociferously with the theme of attitude towards life,
Around the globe wanted to face the Life's fate.
Ruby red sun tinged through the west,
Water falling through the Cleavage of the mountains!!
Rainbow flashing against my eyes like a mist in heavenly arcade.
Thumping night life on the bustling island amazed me!!
The white cotton sky,
Plugged in with vivid spectrum in depth!!
Immersed in deep ruby eyes of her,
Neither the constraints of latitude and longitude,
Just bouncing the sunshine forever!!
Bracing with rose gold moon in its arms with the twilighting stars,
Perked up with full of energy!!
Rejuvenated with full joy,
The strength of spark instigated my feelings towards you!!
Harmonious accord establishing the ceasefire,
By showering rain to melt the temperature of boiling sun!!
Opening the switches of my heart,
Stimulating the senses,
You will find desire of Love towards you!!
Melancholy rain, Cinerous sky,
Blazing eyes, Peasant walkaway!!
Just can’t forget You Honey,
Life has quite often solaced my eyes,
Glow of cotton rubbing socket of vision throughout years!!
Your eyes,
I love you baby!!
Your smile,
I like that way You come and cheers my heart blazing my soul!!
Baby just come in my life cleansing my broken heart,
Baby you come back please!!
And then only you will find the peck on the cheek!!
Staring in my direction,
You attracted me again, occupying the vacant space of my heart!!
Come again, please heal my heart!!
Herr Heinrich Schneider and his spouse
Felt the need to wander,
And for once to leave their house
For a land that lay far yonder.
Japan at cherry-blossom time!
No better place than this
Enthralled the German couple’s mind.
The chance they would not miss.
"But what of Spezi", Heidi cried,
"We can’t leave him behind."
"Ach! unser Spezi," Heinrich sighed.
"There’s a way we’ll find."
They gave him anti-rabies shots
And medicines galore.
All that red tape, and lots and lots
Of paper-mountains more.
Off to the orient they flew
With hopeful joy and glee.
Oh what wonders bright and new
Would soon enthral all three?
Imperial palaces they saw
And Fuji’s snow-capped summit,
Ornate gardens stirring awe.
You name it, they had done it.
Immersed in culture and in art
They sensed a certain lack.
And so it was that they took heart
To leave the beaten track.
They hired a car and off they went
To some far-distant by-way.
And many a pleasant hour they spent
Till the dying light of day.
They found a cosy place to rest.
On the price they made a deal.
At last a chance to have a "Fest".
The time came for a meal.
The menu was in Japanese,
As well one might expect.
The waiter clearly meant to please
And bowed with great respect.
Of English, German and of French
He had no scrap of knowledge.
He gave each ear a nervous clench.
No, he’d never been to college.
Herr Schneider felt like sauerkraut
And Heidi felt like veal,
Food of this kind they’d do without
Until another meal.
But Spezi’s hunger would not wait.
Herr Schneider eyed the waiter.
"Wuff, Wuff, our Spezi wants a plate.
For dogs one has to cater."
While they sat there, a full hour passed.
Then the waiter brought some dishes.
The Schneiders ate their strange repast,
Which fell short of their wishes.
It was now time to pay the bill,
Which ran to many a yen.
Both were feeling somewhat ill.
and hardly spoke a word, but then -
Heidi cried "Is Spezi back yet?"
"Wuff wuff" did Heinrich bark.
"Please, waiter, tell us, where’s our pet?
In the kitchen? In the park?
A piece of fur the waiter brought.
Then Heidi’s face went pale.
She had a grim and horrid thought
On seeing Spezi’s tail.
What is the moral of this tale?
Down under be a dingo.
Where e’er you roam you should not fail
To understand the lingo.
Triumph
Frank Halliwell
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light,
I wander blindly to the south,
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
My drift; by currents is maintained;
my course; by fate is preordained,
Before midnight I drift inside..
the busy shipping tracks.
A lookout spots me in the dark,
a radio transmits the spark.
I am reported to the world
and cautious souls react.
But from the east this winter night,
a black colossus steams in sight,
Racing to the west despite
the danger waiting there!
Her goal is shipping dominance,
her high speed fueled by arrogance,
Before the night is over,
the result will be despair.
I wait, and I feel no remorse,
in spite of the collision course,
For I am just a passive player
in this deadly play.
They've seen me now, but much too late,
and there is no escaping fate,
A glancing blow is struck and leaves
her plates in disarray!
My mass absorbs the mighty shock;
my body solid as bedrock.
I shatter not, nor tremble
as the ship glances away.
The icy water rushes in,
filling compartments to the brim.
Fifteen hundred doomed to die
seek refuge in dismay!
But there is none; nowhere to go,
the frigid water is the foe!
The ship is listing badly now;
the end is near at hand!
Lifeboats are lowered with all speed,
but are too few to fill the need.
'Nearer my God to Thee' is heard,
played by the doomed ship's band..
The stern rises above the waves,
then plunges to her watery grave,
A plume of air and flotsam mark
the place of her long dive.
Water too cold to sustain life,
kills them as surely as a knife,
And in a mere ten minutes
none of them are left alive!
The cries and shouts and prayers have ceased,
the sea returns to lonely peace.
The engineering triumph rests
among the crabs and snails.
The news is spread around the world
and flags at half-mast are unfurled,
Fifteen hundred families
are left to weep and wail.
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light
I wander blindly to the south
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
>>> Titanic is gone.
***
Oh, this life has pierced my soul many times,
thrust me into bottomless pits;
impaled and bleeding- this girl has plummeted down,
falling, tumbling, immersed 'til I am sinking.
Life has thrown the dagger,
the plunge is deep.
Oh, death has left me so gutted and lost,
I have wept forlorn and grieving;
have asked why, why has this destiny been written,
I want an eraser- I will change my own fate.
Why life must you always,
eviscerate.
Oh, life sometimes you have sent me adrift,
sent me on journey's misleading;
given me false, flawed and corrupt information,
erroneous- leaving me hallucinating.
Life you have given facts
so fallacious.
Oh, life you have left me in a whirlwind,
on swirling, twisting gauzy threads;
but instead of down I am spiraling on up,
there is this cyclone- in the mazes of my mind.
I hold a tendril in,
a vortex twirl.
Oh, life amaze and show me the beauty,
tease me with the puzzle of you;
rattle, ruffle, and entangle your mystery,
this girl- is ready to be bemused and bedazzled.
Life I am awestruck,
bewilder me.
Oh, life I have this great thirsty yearning,
do not torture and torment me;
for I want only to enchant you with my charm.
I forgive you for the bottomless pit journey.
Life I am in the mood,
to tantalize.
Oh, life you may find me an odd, weird girl,
I like things just a tad bizarre;
yes I can be strange and a little eccentric,
for example- I like wearing old vintage clothes.
Life I am questioning,
and curious.
Oh, life make me a sweet crimson flower,
flame-colored deep in a garden;
dress me up in fury and flaming red petals,
I wish to be- a fallen lady just growing.
Life make me a beauty,
dressed in scarlet.
______________________
June 14, 2018
Poetry/Verse/The Dagger of Life
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1030-996-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Eight Word Challenge 7
sponsor, John Hamilton
First Place
Ink flows like a river, a poet's soul on fire
A maze of words, where emotions unfold like a desire
Each line a path, a winding road that beckons me
To the heart of the abode, where secrets wait to be free
Fragments of self, embedded deep, like a treasure unspoken
A reflection of the heart that beats and seeps with every line
A dance of words, that weaves a tapestry of heartache and design
A kaleidoscope of pain, a symphony of feelings that entwine
The poet's emotion, like a river's flow, ebbs and grows
Through every line, a symphony of feelings, as the heart overflows
A reflection of the soul, where emotions forever align
A dance of words, that whispers secrets, like a heart that's divine
Most readers glance and pass, blind to the heart's design
They fail to see, the emotion that will last, like a love that's sublime
They read the lines, but don't feel the weight of every word
Of each word's power, that the poet conveys, like a heart that's unheard
For empathy is key, to truly understand the poet's heart
To feel the pulse, of each word's design, a work of art
To be immersed, in the poet's emotional shrine
Where emotions flow, like a river's stream, forever divine
A true poet gets lost in the lines they create
In the labyrinth of words, their heart does await, like a love that's great
For in each phrase, a piece of them resides, like a heart that beats
A reflection of their soul, where emotions forever meet
They pour their heart, into every single word, like a love that's true
A symphony of feelings, that are forever heard, like a heart that's anew
Their emotions flow, like a never-ending stream, like a love that's free
A tidal wave of passion, that crashes on the dream, wild and carefree
In the silence of the night, they find their heart's voice
A whispered truth, that echoes with every choice
Their emotions raw, their feelings exposed, like a heart that's laid bare
A poet's vulnerability, that most people have disposed, like a love that's not there
In the labyrinth of lines, they find solace and peace, like a heart that's at rest
A refuge from the world, where their heart can release, like a love that's blessed
Their emotions flow, like a river's stream, like a heart that's free
A poet's catharsis, that's the heart's esteem, like a love that's meant to be
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
Why does flight feel more lightly entertaining,
yet less engaging,
than fighting?
Laissez-faire thoughts lighter
than ponderous confronting ruminations,
Why?
I would not expect a babbling infant
to understand why
WinWin cooperation deeply entertains
for learning health-enhancing cultures,
ego/eco-therapeutic religious experience,
bicamerally democratic government,
multicultural compassion-nurturing
Golden Rule co-governance.
This omnipresent co-relational laundry list of engagements
I would explicitly
cooperatively
compassionately
spiritually
and naturally hope for
from mature entertaining adults
immersed in nonjudgmental egoNows
and nonperforming ecosystemic Heres
curiously ego-echo familiar
as WinWin stunning synergies
of primal ZeroZone co-presence
breathing in engaged acceptance
to breathe out health-optimizing
non-egocentric interdependently co-acclimating performance.
Why does LeftBrain
hope to escape
from yang-competitive Win/Lose risks,
feel safer,
more defensive,
more protective
of egocentric BusinessAsUsual performance,
while chauvinistically leaving RightBrain
in Lose/Lose hopeless despair
or Win/Lose lack of integrally fulfilling performance,
or unnoticed and shunned
alone with WinWin impressions
of healthy economic entertaining opportunities
alternatively missed,
And Left/Right ecological
and theological
and governmental
and religious
and multiculturally compassionate wealth
of thoroughly engaging non-violent health-opportunities.
But, really, LeftBrain competitive ego-performances
are not so much RightBrain embodied integral brainstem
deep learning
cooperative WinWin health-care synchronic,
resiliently satisfying
like harmonic singing
and synchronized dancing
and writing ego's Win/Lose comedic/tragic
peak and valley experiences,
enculturing nutrition-stories
of healthy and unhealthy input breaths
causing wealthier entertaining output humors,
Muses,
Performance notes to self:
Now is time for ZeroZone
to breathe in regeneratively again.
To beat bicamerally
therapeutically
compassionate co-engagements again,
To become WinWin ecstatically co-entertaining,
once again
fully cooperative awareness
perceptively enraptured,
witnessing Earth's natural/spiritual entertainments.