Long North star Poems
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The white antique porcelain bowl
your mother gave us
has blue veins that wander over its surface.
Holding it up to the light I also see
there are fine cracks here and there.
Age has made it more interesting,
more worth keeping,
still good to look upon.
The veins resemble deltas and tributaries,
the fine cracks look like the lines
on the palms of my hands,
some lead somewhere, others
just dead end,
but all the veins join and mingle.
The varicosity is getting worse,
her ankles are swelling despite the water tablets.
We will keep washing, drying, and looking.
The bowl, like a luminous north star,
is set upon a side table;
a leg of the table needs fixing;
she does not ask me to fix much anymore,
she knows my hands are broken plates.
Her mother was 85 when she died;
the bowl is older yet somehow stronger
as if it had survived the entropy of
many unforeseeable times.
While she is showing me her swollen ankles,
the phone rings. It’s the Doctor,
he wants to know if I am still hallucinating.
I tell him I don’t think so,
it’s just that some things seem like other things;
there are connections, a fine network of nexus’s
that I had not noticed before,
however,
we are both getting along well
despite the translucency of these days.
An old sundial awaits
Sol's kiss of glistening light.
And aligned with the North Star;
its silence stabs at the night.
Tarnished and weather-beaten,
it knows that Dawn will come back.
And waits in pools of darkness,
drenched in drops of liquid-black.
Sol's light crests the horizon,
finally free from Night's clutch.
And sunlight strikes its dial,
gilding its face with its touch.
Time is tethered to its face,
His presence now shackles Him.
And He slowly creeps along;
chasing shadows at its rim.
Sunlight glides it like magic,
with a luminescent glow.
And it notes the time of day;
as the sun inks its shadow.
Amid the chaos of the world outside
The young boy's heart beat with a restless tide
Aspiring for greatness beyond the norm
But his path to purpose was often forlorn
He tried his hand at many things
Exploring the world on wings
From science to commerce, to tech and more
He sought a calling unlike any before
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to years
As he searched for his purpose among his peers
But the light he chased remained just out of sight
All he saw was a tunnel, deep and infinite
At twenty-five he stopped to reflect
And take stock of his past, with introspect
He saw the muddled mess of his prior ventures
And started to ponder and rearrange his textures
He knew not what lay ahead
But he knew what lay behind instead
And so he made a conscious choice
To live with intent and a clear sense of voice
One step at a time, he began to walk
Towards the shadows and the light they begot
Mistakes were made and lessons were learned
And slowly but surely, the embers burned
Fuelled by his newfound intent
The light that once escaped him started to relent
And out of the abyss, a vision took shape
That of a man who could bend fate
Through the veil of uncertainty
The boy saw his purpose finally
And with that vision in his eyes
He tackled obstacles and soared through the skies
At thirty years, he'd come so far
To find his calling, his North Star
With every stride and every leap
His impact on the world began to seep
Now, he looks to the skies with hope
Wielding his vision as an unbreakable rope
For this boy, once lost, is now found
His purpose concrete, his destiny sound
And though his journey still has miles to go
He strides with determination, full of glow
For he's seen the world through a different lens
And knows his vision will take him to the ends.
We’re seeded as one, polarised as two,
hatched from the cosmic egg, then truly born,
feeling in heart, each and every bliss hue,
that thus in timeless time ego is shorn,
whence light of Self is the glow we adorn.
Having been, seen and so known who we are,
eternal light, shining like the North Star,
what’s imbibed must be assimilated,
else we’ll continue playing below par,
feeling as yet from God separated.
Unbroken awareness of light of Self,
seeing God in all objects manifest,
no residual desires on our shelf,
in midst of movement, poised always at rest,
vagaries of fate laughed off in light jest,
the liberated soul always feels whole,
as a non-doer in his ordained role,
radiating love and light at all times,
holding firm focus thus, his only goal,
heart’s rapture rising betwixt bliss beat’s chimes.
(Time/event: The Battle of Long Island, August 27, 1776 / In the voice of: Private Ezekiel Turner, Continental Soldier)
The smoke of gunfire paints the twilight red,
As British boots echo o'er burning streets;
Our General, steadfast as the North Star, led
The ragged souls in flight from cruel defeats.
I lingered by the rear, ensuring all were borne
From crumbling walls and fires that fiercely roared—
Each step a prayer that none be left forlorn,
While destiny writ harsh fate upon our board.
Whispers reached my ear of Nathan Hale,
A patriot brave, captured in valor’s hold,
His final words, like distant church bell’s knell,
Rang out a promise: his sacrifice untold.
Though Long Island now lies under foe’s command,
And New York's shores wear tyranny’s dark chain,
In our retreat a miracle did stand—
A hope reborn through loss, amid the pain.
I weep for fallen friends beneath the sky,
Yet march, resolved, ‘til freedom doth arise.
—Ezekiel Turner
Angels live in heaven, they say
Maybe in astral beauty they glow
As sparkling stars of the milky way
They often descend on earth I know.
How do I know, you may ask me
I’ve seen in the heart of my mother
The glow as the shine of the star can be
Like a flower she nurtured me lest I wither.
In troubled times the family was adrift
She toiled hard to find for us a safe harbor
To my storm-ravaged life she gave a timely gift
The security of a nest to build the uncertain future.
She kept me in the shadow of her wings
Flame of my candle winds couldn’t blow away
In her shadow I live with her love memory brings
For it’s her hands that sculpted me what I’m today.
She has left for her abode a long time ago
When in dark night I see the north star glisten
Like a lone guide to my destination, I then know
She is with the angels residing far away in heaven.
Written : August 10, 2018
February 1, 2020
Contest : Strand Choice 12, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
**********************
I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
Written: November 05, 2023
___________________________________________
Away from Earth, the sky is always hideous,
A whimsical sun made my dream obvious.
A deep redolent dream, moon, and scheme,
Ideal site for drifting ways of cosmic gleam.
I'm swaying in space, skeptical of the place,
Cool wind ruins the stars as emerald tunes trace.
Arms may be lifted in sync due to the breeze,
I breathe in even the peculiar air to appease.
Only musings glimpse through my icy hand,
A strange adventure with a translucent stand.
My first trip here, I couldn't decry the North Star,
Lacking solid support, the stars went barre.
I am clad by kaleidoscope matter and vitality,
As I cross space, black holes are a split reality.
A cosmic light kiss of life infuses my skin,
Lips of ash, frame stuck by whimsey within.
A billion stars cover each soaring nebula,
I'm an instant hit, as speculated by a fibula.
I ask the Lord, as I look high up above
What keeps me going....Is it just love?
I love- The sun, smiling...and the floating snow
I love- To watch the swirling winds...........Blow
I love- The oceans, the mountains and all trees
I love- The feel of nature's....................breeze
I love- To watch the full-moon..................sink
I love- To see the North Star....................wink
I love- To wake up..........and stretch and yawn
I love- To see the sunrise at the brink, of dawn
I love- The animals, the creatures and the fish
I love- removing rose petals.....to make a wish
I love- My family and I love....all of my friends
I love- We get wings, when one's...,...life ends
I love- My grandkids, my children and my wife
I love- All the people, that are part...of my life
I love- All these things, it just keeps my love growing
I love- My life, and that's what's keeping.....me going
What Keeps Me Going Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
3-29-2022
This christmas you’ll know how great I am
Ya I’m the man.
You want diamonds and a car? I’ll do better by far!
Porsche extravagance and a solitaire
brighter than the North Star.
The present I want to unwrap is you
laying seductively under my wife’s tree
My christmas colour is pink mystery
together we joyfully can rewrite history
cause baby cakes you do things to me
that make me not care
about her misery
This christmas is hismas
so let’s fill it with ecstasy
As we laid there intertwined
I felt shock waves
going through my mind
I couldn’t see or feel you, I’d gone sense blind!
In the darkness
my blissfulness unravelEd
“PLEASE let me hit Rewind”
But it was just liquid black I could find
They came and removed
my wrinkled soul
and l was forced to leave you behind
Christmas morning
I was placed into a pretty box of pine
Family and friends didn’t show, not a sign
You who I thought was mine
drove your new Porsche
down Rodeo Drive
Later some caviar and wine
No worries you felt better than fine
After all you have plenty of rich fellows
waiting in line.
“Happy Birthday to You
Happy Birthday to you.”
Across the Abyss
I watch the Angels celebrate Christmas
as on my chest I pound my fists
Why wasn’t Jesus there on my Christmas list?
My knee is bowed, I now confess
but no one can get me out of my mess
The more I lusted for turned out to be less
Now my soul is burning and I can find no rest
I felt powerful like a god
believing that was why I was blessed
By trusting in myself
I failed the ultimate test.
For Bobbie Burns, “Beyond The Niceties of Christmas Poetry Contest”.