Long Inward Poems
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Armadilly came galloping into Troll Lake, bent on seeking a new life, to unwind.
He’d rode out of the Badlands, leaving only a trail of blowing dust and leaves, behind.
His steady stead Jalopy had been pounding feet, relentlessly with powerful strides.
Rearing up, Armadilly stopped before our Troll Bridge with his slingshot at his side.
I could see, he rode the sleekest mount, and the biggest tortoise, that I had ever seen.
Man that armadillo knew his tortoise flesh… this was the fastest one, ever been!
I would say: he truly looked, the devil’s mount… with glowing, fire stocked eyes.
The stranger named himself as Armadilly, but his true identity, could not be denied.
He was really Armadilly Billy, The Slingshot Kidster, as he bowed to us, so very low.
With a yes Ma'am, and a no Sir, he was smooth and could charm, near any old soul.
The Trolls loved him for the spell binding stories, that at the campfire, he gave away.
He never talked about his past, but we knew who he was, without being told, that day.
The rumor had it that Sheriff Bunny Garret had shot him dead, on one fateful day.
Another said he’d faked his death, heading south to Mexico, his life to live away.
But we knew better, for he was here with us, right now, on this illustrious day.
We knew he was a kind and misunderstood guy, because of what I’m about to say.
He saved our squirrel, Funkundilly, from a hawk diving straight for her, inward bound.
With his slingshot, like streaked lightening, he forced the hawk to spiral to the ground.
And we all applauded that Funkundilly was now, once again, so very safe and sound.
Then he strode, spurs a jangling, to dish out his own type of justice, so very renowned.
With a steely glint in his eye, he ordered the hawk away, or meet his end, he did convey.
And you can say that frightened bully hawk, really high tailed it, as he ran away.
Everyone celebrated that night, with Armadilly, all the way to dawn’s embrace.
Before he left, Armadilly knew from then on, he’d always have a home in this place.
But his mind was set on a wandering, more of this world’s adventures, to unweave.
So with a HiHo! Jalopy! He took off, leaving in another cloud of dust and leaves.
But I heard him shout that he’d be back again, soon…
And we were sure, that’s just what he would do!
Inspired by Silly Billy the Kidster's--- Billy the Kid Blog
An epic poem by Carol Eastman
(1.)
Dare I Compose, This Heartfelt Poem For Thee
Dare I reveal, dare to my soul expose
No longer hide behind life's hidden pose
Return to Southern roots, a simple man
Forget this dark world's constant wicked plans
Remember her, life's most beautiful rose
She the sweet goddess, that this poor man chose.
Dare I compose, this heartfelt poem for thee
Pray to Heaven to one day again see
Together walk those streets paved in gold
Hold each other always, never grow old
Wake each dawn, with Heaven 's love all around
With you darling, forever by my side
In divine paradise wading love's tide.
Dare I ink the words, darling I love you
Just to hear you say, yes, I love you too
Return to Southern roots, a simple man
Forget this dark world's constant wicked plans.
Robert J. Lindley,
Romanticism,
Dedicated To Blessing Of And Precious Memory Of-
( My Most Beloved Wife Clarisa, She That Saved Me )
*****
(2.)
As Length'ning Shadows, Filter Thru These Aching Hours
As length'ning shadows, filter thru these aching hours
Seeing flowers bloom, I lower both sword and shield
Yet in the black-distance still loom angry towers
For this world its angry powers refuse to yield
Dare I, beg this cursed world for a peaceful sign
As if this moment, Karma and golden moon align
Nay! To do such, what a great knave fool would be I
For Karma rang no bell and day holds no moon sky!
Standing alone, this soul seeks happiness again
As a wasted form, worn down by epic grief
Here walking through life, with overloads of pain
Crying out and at moment devoid of belief
Dare I, in such a state, again raise this sharp sword
Wade into battlefield, a brave soldier to be
Cutting and slashing the dark-cast and evil hordes
Tho' knowing, more will arise from a hellish sea?
Here wherein twilight shades are forever falling
And darkness its turmoil dances into my head
I cannot help but hear heartache and loss calling
Do I, do I thus choose to run away instead
Dare I, fail my raising, deny my Southern roots
Speed ever onward past grief, fears and bitter years
Absorb the poison arrows the enemy shoots
As they whizz on through this volley of falling tears?
Here wherein twilight shades are forever falling.
I cannot help but hear heartache and loss calling.
Robert J. Lindley,
Rhyme, ( Looking inward, Hoping to Life again Find )
The shifting of many corporeal hands move across this dead cell,
A vacuums vortex, a psychic sponge, charging this battery of
Energy called the spirit board.
Paranormal phenomenon striking plate to enter realities plane
Of existence, for the ethereal challenged in crisis, seeking the
Threshold for spontaneous release, unto our spiritual realm.
Witchery’s board of trickery left in a polarized stance it
So entices the living with its tempting whispering of lies,
Incantations gate keepers wait on the other side of evils
Door way.
Memorizing the human sensory functions into a false
Sense of harmless mystery of the unexplained, it lures
These victims ever closer to weaving its spell of the demonic.
These capture being lost unto the hypnotic effects are
Transfixed unable to hit their override switch that controls
Their mental powers of persuasion, disabled is there strength
Of will power, they belong to the Ouija now.
Clasping do all for sides of the curtain of reality, times
Displacement begins in earnest, without hesitations
Momentary loll this dead cell bursts to life.
Black magic key has been inserted within the wooden
Door way’s heart and soul, a bizarre power bank draws
Forth the energy of the spiritual lost, swinging hells
Kept wide open.
The pancetta spins out of control, smashing against
The barriers of humanity, darkened ebony light shines
Through this doorway of evil and the flickering candle
Turns to a shades greenish blue wavering in the odious
Breeze.
The voice of a thousand screams echo in sheer delight,
We have been freed at last, broken is the trance, the boards
Hypnotic effects are dashed by the light of the dawn.
Dazed in bewilderment the voyeurs are chilled to their
Very inward bones, shaking, staring in awes amazement,
Wondering if these events really happened at all.
Then within these tented walls a voice responds to their
Questioning, laughing, as if a jackal at a fresh kill site!
Foolish mortals you know not what you have done, this
Night, but I promise thee this, laughing once again,
In a demonic under tone, none shall leave this domicile
Alive.
The entry doors lock without the human touch, the
Curtain windows pull closed, a momentary stilled
Scream, then all is silent, what remains is left up
To my readers to visualize, as the final candle
Blows out!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
---------------------------------------------------------
------ this is meant with a degree of humor -----
------ but I know, joy is in the ears that hear -----
---------------------------------------------------------
To quote as truth a source for which
You otherwise show great disdain
Is humorous at best, a stitch
That some might say was not quite sane.
And if you cherish this sweet book,
But have not read it much of late,
It’s time you took another look,
And gave some other verses weight.
If Genesis is normative
For when it is all life begins
Then we should take a closer look
At other verses close therein.
For “breath of life” can only be
Applied to one by “Adam” called;
That you’d apply this verse to Eve?
Oh, exegete! Do be appalled!
In fifteen verses, very clear,
We see God do a nice ad lib,
Puts Adam in a heavy sleep
And liberates Eve from his rib!
Now something here just can’t be right;
No, something here just doesn’t jive.
God’s “breath of life” did not her grace;
The woman cannot be alive!
To call these verses normative
Is simply ludicrous, of course.
The “breath of life” God gave the dust?
Not air, but animating force.
And in this telling of our firsts
neither of them come from a womb,
So literal or figurative,
we need to give these verses room.
A babe will breath when it is born
On schedule or ahead of time.
You know that’s not the entry point:
As silly as a talking mime.
Way back in John, when Christ appears
upon arising, after death,
Gives the disciples Spirit then,
Conferring it with sacred breath.
Were they then dead before he breathed?
In some sense, yes, perhaps contrived
Christ’s Spirit thus has come to stay;
Spiritually, they are alive.
You don’t belive that labor does
Somehow propel those clumps of cells
By magic through the birth canal
And then form babes when they’re expelled?
Of course not, or there’d be a glitch
In logic with regard to sections.
But nobody believes all that;
it's just a case of misdirection.
We read a babe lept in the womb;
In Psalms, He forms our inward parts.
Christ, too, alive, ere left the tomb,
And now, he’s giving life to hearts.
Let’s study then, the scriptures well;
Bereans be: look for yourself.
Review in depth when life begins,
Not leave His counsel on the shelf?
the first move made was the worst move
played---making like the sky had parted &
somebody was watching over, somebody
was lighting a candle for the struggle, as if
it was over by a long shot---for getting things
back in order was the name of the game &
keeping a steady job impressed her &
getting a decent apartment impressed her &
staying out of trouble for the time being,
it all impressed her & oh the things that a
horny man will do, imagine if that horny man
falls in love---so as it happened the time
went by & she too began to fall for him, as
she began to believe that he had changed &
that all the time that had passed, really had
passed, as now it seemed that he had begun
to walk the proverbial straight & narrow---
yes, the two of them started to have a
scheduled time to sit & eat dinner & they
had “appropriate holiday get-togethers” in
which they met each other’s family & ne’er
was a mention of the years before, in fact
the past seemed as if it had all been a bad
dream & so the two of them began to make
plans together, now that they both had picked
each other up individually---now pooling their
ideas, they saw a big ceremony in the future,
they saw a honeymoon to trump all honeymoons
& for a split second, the two of them swore
that real happiness wasn’t that far off---
all their ducks, it seemed, were finally in a
row---
but then the old habits that take so very long to die,
roll back inward & things once unsavory begin to
look tantalizing again---ah yes, what could
be done with such a vast amount of moola & all
it would take to get it is a little teensy weensy
bending of the law (in fact it’d be so very teensy
weensy that you know, nobody would even
notice) & the street would always be there
welcoming one of its own back with open arms,
so deep in his heart, he knew that if in fact she
did have a problem with what was going to go down,
there would be another that could take her place---
she didn’t see things as crystal clear as he & when
she found out about the coming adventure, she
bolted like any good upstanding citizen would do
when they see or hear about a possible crime ensuing,
yes, she was a good little girl & took her separate ways
prior to the *****going down---
the ducks were no longer making their way as a family
one by one through the park anymore---
the line had been broken.
Beneath the surface of the perceptive mortal senses
the mind nestles the buds of dreams it desires to see bloom.
Allured by avid aspirations into insipid ignorance,
it suffers wandering in the wilderness of discontent.
Under the convoluted layers of the mangled mind
languishes the servile soul at the impervious inner depth,
until enlightenment dawns with the light of the eternal truth,
building with dedicated spirit the holy linkage with the absolute.
Travelling on the enlightened pathway of devout life,
an inward journey to the sacred sanctum of spirituality,
takes the soul to the ultimate destination of liberation,
where realization perceives the meaning of emotions.
The swirling currents of the vagrant mind
find the current course of intuitive introspection
through the layers of consciousness,
dissipate in the shade beneath the divine lamp
that illumines the swathe of the dark acuity.
The soul then shines in the heavenly glow,
reflecting the patina of the perception lotus,
as the self-searching comprehensive odyssey ends
at the sanctified altar of supreme mindfulness.
Distanced from the thought-swamped past
the merger configures awareness in the realm of now.
In the onyx night, the drizzle of argentine stardust,
symbolizing the sequins of sensual epithet
of the vibrant existential melodic essence,
adorns the pearl-laced waves of the rolling psychic sea,
that spreads seamlessly to the baroque emotive shore
though the bay of bliss of the musical mind,
echoing the tune of the soulful symphony.
The rain-washed sparkling sky of the new day,
enwrapped in the chromatic trellis of the rising sun,
spreads the spectrum of corporeal perception,
fabricated by the fascinating sense of the vibrato of life,
weaved as the tapestry of transient feelings
with the lattice of self-drawn imagery of kaleidoscopic now.
The congenial current of contemporary time,
defused in the miasma of the marooned mind,
turns the indented poignant impulses
into lyrical crescendo of consciousness concerto.
On its sonorous serenading wings,
the awakened awareness flies in the sky of sensual sonata
to the harmonic realm of euphoria,
realizes the nicety of the unequivocal notion
that life is a song to be sung in now continuum.
.
Suffering & Compassion
This comes to the Caring
Caring is central emotion
Other things built around
From Love Care Feelings
Yes I am not a robot , for I Feel, I Care
I feel freely I Care fearlessly
I feel for the world, I also care inwardly
Sometimes I feel A lot of doubts. in me
I suffer my doubtful feelings
When I’m bold I am fearless outwardly
I feel compassion for all worldly
What’s Caring:-
It’s a power
It’s the pivot
It also moves
It moves, inward & outward
Retract to a point; Expand as Wave
Caring; can be in fear; in doubts or Brave
Caring inwardly with doubts is my- Suffering
Caring for others with trust love is- Compassion
Between Suffering & Compassion - An Endless journey
Caring inwardly with love is Being - In Self At Rest
To Care is the central feeling
Caring is pivot is foundation
Caring is a constant
To stay at the pivot
To stay at the core
In a constant care
The conflicts ease
Caring is central
Unmoving I rest
Calm & Caring
Caring Calm
Composed
Centre of
A storm
Peace
A See
Saw
at
The periphery
At the edge Of my caring
Compassion and Sufferings. Journey ends
At the Core of my Caring ; There are no sufferings; I Am That
At the Edge of my Caring ; No show of compassion;
As There Are No Others; I understand
Journey ends. I understand, I experience
CAGED BIRD SINGS
I’ve not talked about these things to tell
Because I’m sworn to secrecy of sorts
You’ve heard the tales and read the books
Know what happens if you break the rules
Well today I’m here crossing the “I double-dawg-dare you” line
Father shows his love for me while he creeps in my room at night
Years go by how did I know my memory would go dark
Bird
Child, was I, voice not yet my own
Innocence stripped, beginning at home
Sense of self seemingly washed away with the whack of a hand
Whose does it belong to this time
Oh I know let’s count the welts…she wins
Mother’s hand lay wrapped around the extension cord, today
Yes, her expression of love for me again in a special way
Beaten into submission of silence and stillness
Emotions continue retreating inward
Caged
Child, was I, voice not yet my own
Was this to be my life one of quiet and still
Not so any one would know for years to come
Shattered youth burned from the inside out with pain
Yet, I walk, skip and play with a grin and a laugh
Laughter covering up so much for so many
How long can the bandage stretch
Can it hold up much longer
Edges frayed, torn and splintered from years of abuse
Completely falling apart was not an option, not so anyone can see
Who do you tell when you know not what to do
What do you do when you know not what to say
How can you say it when you have a voice but dare not speak
Caged Bird
Child, no longer I, voice not yet to call my own
Going through life with a laugh and a smile
Knowing something is not right but not knowing
Every corner darkness seems to lurk nearby
Cannot breathe because of the heaviness upon my chest
Life has not been my own, others in control
Body staying while mind wanting to be set free
Feeling trapped, scared and alone, so escapes I would try
Key
Wounded from all the hurt, leaving behind scars not all remedied with topical cream
Continually battling life as if in front of a camera
Sleep, sleep, crave for peaceful sleep
Give back the restful nights stolen away
Thieves in the night my parents and others
Walked into my life, stole pieces of me
Attempted to leave me for dead
Failed each time because I am a SURVIVOR
Child, no longer am I, voice found and being released
Voice singing words of truth once not able to speak
Caged Bird Sings
Form:
Drop picture till six
The land like Pokémon kills
Nearing a tornado’s kiss?
Lift picture to three
The earth seems a lot different
And looks extreme wilderness!
Turn picture upward
Rapid rivers dash inward
Floods hit mountains and stumble!
See Ottoman cries!
Its history in Palestine
Breaks loudly a hurting cry!
Until the see twirls
Syrian shores to Lake Err!
In one tsunami fits in!
Turn picture around
Look at it from the back side
Night time is facing big sigh!
Walk around clockwise
Walk around counter clock’s wise
What’s the difference at bright?
Look carefully at
While standing behind that
Her shoulders and her two arms
South America?
Thirst for the Atlantic’s tap
See a side face that had trapped?
Is there another mountain?
Leaking black gas surrounding
Happy carnival, walking?
See the dancing sleeves?
While wild fire nears the streets
On her leaning arm as seen?
The plate is moving!
South America swimming?
The south is wetting valleys!
Would waters sink in?
Reaching Amazon’s region
From the forest’s province?
Incline her to three
See volcano born from sea?
Crafting her right cheek’s sad fear?
Is it Gibraltar?
Suddenly speaks, spreads horror
Causing Mona Lisa’s shock?
Tilt her down to six
See Morocco’s beaches quick?
Nearing the west in a blink?
Or causing that lint
To near Africa’s dark flint?
Marrying mounts in a blink?
Prop to quarter till
Watch! The height of the waves bring
Over Mona’s head curving!
Prop her upward to
See again what had done to
See fire rocks drop next to!
Is she hugging babe?
Alive or faint but looks dead?
Leaning on her charm screen scared?
She’s holding a rose!
Or holding one stem of corn?
Looks like child’s hand overall!
Near a villager’s
Boat on top of the mountain
Does sail or drifts to go float?
But, a pyramid
More likely to look amid
Mountain tops and gardens’ bits!
Spin picture right this
Minute, a serpent showing
Behind two wed couples’ kiss!
Aruba under
Her nose moving to northeast
Survives a great flood beneath!
Walk ahead the screen
See Mona is still weeping
For two thousand twelve... searching!
By: Nadia F. Shahwan – April 2009. Note: This is an innocent discovery to analyze the
beauty of the famous Mona Lisa by Van Gogh.
A giant jellyfish was born
emitted from a neutron star
once on a whilom cosmic morn
amidst the stellar seas afar.
With tentacles from arcing crest,
medusa-like it hangs on high
cloudscaped with tendrils manifest
in astral sky of Gemini.
Exploding supernova yore—
whose light reached Earth so long ago
that last ice age was still at fore
and ocean levels then were low
by dint of all the ice around
compared to what they are today,
when history was oral bound
though art in caves was on display—
created nebula we see
dubbed ‘jellyfish’, made of debris
from remnant IC Four Four Three,
five thousand light-years from our spree
upon this tiny whirling world
of Man’s vaingloried destiny,
short-lived mid solar time unfurled,
in what’s to be or not to be.
If traveling at speed of light
it very well might take about
three hundred years of light-wave flight
to go across its width throughout.
The jellyfish on planet here
are oldest multi-organ group
of animals, found far and near
free-swimming often in a troop
that ocean currents might amass
together, and there is a class
immortal seeming, which can pass,
to prior stage, when foes harass.
In general, umbrella-shaped,
these creatures’ bells have trailing limbs
with stinging cells around them draped
to injure one who too close swims.
Pelagic animals, they dwell
in seas and oceans everywhere,
not all with venom to expel,
plus special senses; further they’re
adept at adaptation’s chain,
with range fantastic; by the way,
they manage well without a brain.
Could we learn from their résumé?
But back to Jellyfish in space,
a pulsar may have formed in blast,
or neutron star at rapid pace
which first burst inward, spinning fast.
The outer layers which caved in
bounced outward in that stellar scheme
of supernova with its spin
begetting radiation beam
that’s sweeping by like lighthouse ray,
perchance a beaconed message from
some bygone beings gone astray
in bleeping beats of warning drum.
Meanwhile on Earth we’re but a guest
to Mother Nature’s knowing eyes
in Goldilocks rare orbit blessed.
How sad that life Man fails to prize!
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
Some sources of inspiration were the following…
Article and image ~ What Spawned the Jellyfish Nebula?