Long Nakedness Poems
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OF SAGE LEAVES AND SWEET FLOWERS…
While flowers may be deemed
The sweetness of nature and life,
It is the leaves of her trees that are
The essences of life, death, and rising:-
It is the leaves of the tree
That feeds and nourishes her;
That ensures her branches’ bearings;
Photosynthesizing her peace and love:-
While living flowers are plucked,
Vase-like buried, and housed until death,
They are later thrown away—forgotten.
But fallen leaves reflect resurrection:-
Yes, in nature, trees shed their shading blades
And for a while, stoically stand in nakedness;
Piercing skyward to the coming resurrection
Of their green and rainbow colored leaves.
Thus, I’d rather be a leaf than a flower;
All trees bear leaves; but all don’t flower.
Leaves—nature’s resurrection symbols;
Her saged bristlecone pine allegories:-
what if you lie down
eyes blinking
until they yawn
and close
before that
did you capture your thoughts
did you own your mistakes
did you lie back
in Christ’s arms
did you remember
that you’re human
did you read
of Abraham and his fam
did you realize
over and over again
the mistakes
did you stake your life
on the Savior’s plan
there was a drunken man
whose sons
one with both eyes open
one with both eyes closed
one took pleasure
in his father’s nakedness
the other covered him
there were two virgins
nowhere in sight of a man
so they got their father drunk
each bore a babe
night and day
God sees
is He pleased
each night you hold out your hand
and lay the day down
at the feet of Christ
are you ready to die
are you ready to live
as your eyes light up
seize the day
the blue for your eyes
the green for your feet
the yellow to energize
the cranberry cardinals
to sing you awake
shimmer and shake
seize the day
notice what is on display
serve up a good buffet
recall the imperfect
the worm upon bite
the scathing fire
the overflow
forgetting to tip
your hat
the moment you opened your mouth
and cursed
instead of loving verse
the hearse
seize the day
daring to step in quicksand
whilst trying
to grab his or her hand
seize the pen
seize the moment
seize the day
each night
the day is done
could be the book is closed
make it a good one
one imperfect chapter
at a time
A man can fail many times, but he isn't a failure until he begins to blame somebody else. John Burroughs
This is not a sad poem,
but my hungry hands hunger to express,
as autumn brings back haunting hues,
stinging my sleeping soul.
All I hear is melancholic tones,
whistling in mercenary winds,
lifting leaves from bare branches.
Bright colours turning grisly grey,
as the season of death,
creates a grave full of misery.
I cannot forever criticise ghosts,
nor refuse to visit your tomb.
As each petal slowly fades,
I'm too tired to accuse or be accused.
I've formed into a personified weeping willow,
releasing rivers of bitterness through raindrops.
In my nakedness, I resemble their withering woes,
trying to smile, composing a suicide of emotions,
dangling, distracting from that which is real,
but my muteness is literally slaying my pain.
Why am I always the one to blame?
I do not feel safe in the angst of Autumn,
for my essence is not eternally evergreen.
I'm fatigued from those who claim to love me,
unable to save me from sinking into seas of sorrow.
My selfish friends are like silent marionettes,
nowhere to be seen nor heard,
abandoning me in the darkest corner,
despite my pen pouring like October rain.
Maybe this is a sad poem,
as I still search for forgiveness.
I keep the faith that my roots will bloom again,
because I am a vibrant child of summer,
yearning for the return of colouration.
Adapting to living without answers.
Lost like unused syllables in unrhyming words
petals of frilled sorrow drip to the earth from weeping trees,
crying each filigreed petal slowly, one by one,
in cascades of gentle tears to their tender rest,
shaping billowing beds of brightly colored pillows,
until soft breaths of evening breeze exhale long sighs
through longing limbs creating whirlwinds of smiling fragrance
in the fawning dance of each nectarous petal.
Like lover's swirling in life's last dying embrace,
reflections of cold loneliness slip past with each fallen bud.
Soon the flowers will be lost in winter's stark gray advance,
and the smooth bark of the Crepe Myrtle will lie dormant
yearning for the elongating warm caress of Spring,
and its delicate chiffon cloak of humbled innocence,
again hiding its discomfiting gnarled nakedness
behind silken vales of scintillating incandescence.
11/07/15
Faint scents still linger, as summer slowly fades.
Sun silently hides behind smoky clouds,
as raindrops hum in a jaded symphony,
plummeting against misty windows,
vibrating against puddles upon pavements.
Leaves drift in the chill, revealing bare branches,
rustling in the breeze then soaking on the ground,
as gloomy skies colour moonlight into monochrome.
As shivery spirits seek shelter,
swan song flowers soak in melancholic tones,
reminiscent of a forgotten mother's lullaby,
whispering softly, but never faltering.
Nature's nakedness consumes the aura of my oasis,
as cold ghosts reappear, reflecting in resentful regret.
Ebony hues discolour the textured illusion of my rainbow,
as my soul serenades its harmony for hibernation.
Children of summer are like a leaf,
vibrant with colourful hues in spring,
but misplaced in Autumn, easily carried away with zephyrs.
Joseph was one of Jacob’s twelve sons,
and to the land of Egypt was brought.
Sold by his brothers into slavery
but ruled there in Pharaoh’s court
And his brothers went down to Egypt
to buy corn in the famine lest they die,
but Joseph was governor of the land
and they bowed their faces to buy
Joseph knew his brothers, not they him,
and said unto them “I fear ye are spies
come to see the nakedness of this land”
but said they “nay, to buy supplies”
“We have from the land of Canaan come,
my lord, we are all the sons of one man”.
And Joseph said “if ye be true men
fetch me your youngest in Canaan”
“Go ye and carry corn for your houses
but first bring your brother unto me.
So shall your words be verified
and ye shall not all die guilty”
And they laded their asses with corn
but their hearts did fail them for fear,
and journeyed back to their father
who grieved at the news they bear
But the famine was sore in all the land
and they returned the land of Pharaoh.
Taking the best fruits and balm,
and honey and myrrh to go
Then once again stood before Joseph
who said “peace be with you…fear not!”
And asked “your father, is he yet alive?”,
they answered he is well with his lot
And Joseph yearned within and wept,
and with them drank and made merry,
and did eat with them at his house
lest on their return they grow weary
But Joseph could no longer refrain
saying “I’m your brother whom ye sold!
Be not afraid for it was God’s will
for a posterity on the earth foretold”
“Go and tell my father God has made me
ruler over all the land in Egypt’s care!”.
And Jacob and his twelve sons
dwelt in the land of Goshen there
Written: September 2010
This darkness holds no fear;
within it dwell beauty and candor.
Its vastness each night sings like a canary,
with empty space strumming its solo guitar.
Daytime is full of lies and pretense,
but the darkness of each night
brings peace and tranquility,
and speaks in words of absolute silence.
It is dotted with the glow of stars,
and brushed by the moon’s soft light,
to restore the colors once stolen
by brightness that gives light but steals hue.
In the beauty of darkness dwell shadows—
they drag the feet of imagination
into a realm that starts with indifference
and ends in silent inference—
never a foe to anything moving or stilled in clay.
If you doubt how beauty sleeps,
look up into the night sky.
You’ll see it in its pajamas,
its nakedness wrapped in drapings,
its heavy snores piercing the stillness of night.
Yet the beauty of darkness
is seen only by a still mind
anchored in a steel gut—
where fear lies slain in cold blood,
and gold glitters in bold glare.
That is what makes darkness glow.
Down into the valley of socialization
Societal vices thrives without limitation
In my city, moral has worn the clothes of
civilization
It's value have nosedived into the pit of
humiliation
There both male and female feast just like
the beast
Meanwhile you cant resist the cyst
Cause it has covered both You and I
Today, shame has no hidden place in our
heart
Our conscience is driven away like a sport
car
The fume from the exhaust we applaud
But you know carbon mono-oxide is lethal
Yet we claim its civilization
Wont this kill You and I
Nakedness is an act of being naked
A product of shamelessness
The society is helpless because our mothers
are less concerned
'Flaunt it. You've got what it takes'
Thus: she praised as she catwalk down the
stricken street
At adolescent she conceived and bore a child
of no father
Will this not affect You and I
Truth...why are you pleading for it
It has been long buried beneath the six feet
As you can see, corruption triumph more in
our societies
From kids to parents,leaders to followers,
home to abroad
It has diffused through the earth just like fart
But no one cares; all we care about is NOW
Change the only factor that has remained
constant
Will you not change before the story is told to
You and I
Killings, suicide bombings, cheat, treason,
occult, lynching,
Kidnapping, indulgence, Nuisance, violence,
hypocrisy et al
Are all bored of corruption
End time is not close; Jesus Christ is not
coming today
But one day, you will wake up and find
yourself in hell or heaven
If we don't choose to make the world a better
place today
Wont this affect You and I?
In the Garden of Eden, there they were,
Adam and Eve,
Until they were deceived.
Everyone thinks it was a snake,
But that is our biggest mistake.
He was a handsome, wicked dark knight,
Radiant once with a bright light,
He stroked his revenge with might.
He wanted to punish Gods’ creation,
So he used his demonization.
Because of his betrayal, we were cursed,
The consequences for sinfully actions,
Was nakedness and rejection.
We all believe it was an apple,
That made Eve rattle.
What if he deceived her with human flesh?
That’s why, we are now in such a mess.
Adam wants a piece of the pie,
So Eve decided they must lie.
Cain and Abel were born,
One from good and one from evil spawn.
In the garden, there, they were no more,
Behind them, God close the door.
The Garden of Eden was closed,
For heaven and Earth,
And open the door for a new generations’ birth.
Roebain
Almost as natural as when the wind blew
Almost as close when I am to feel
Against a nakedness beneath if I knew
For a reason remains when striped is to be real
In a world when I haven’t the place
I live therein forgetting myself too soon
Of dreams to be an ever to forever chase
Haven’t I the life in dire need of fortunes?
However today... some self I have come to find
Some self to once again once more realize
A rediscovering perhaps evermore left behind
Yet a discovery as slowly as surely... dies
And as true as my form had since begin
I try to understand the need for an entrapment
Yet to find no result for an ultimatum to mean
And bearing untrue will I secure my retirement
Today... I felt the wind blew
Closer then I would like to feel
Blowing away a self I knew
And once more shall I begin as real