Long Overwhelms Poems
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Kindness soaking through my veins.
In time, I thought it would be rearranged.
Trying to find the right words
it is frightening.
I really don't want
to end up fighting.
I try to see the best in life.
When I try to help,
they put up a fight.
Frustration overwhelms me
Why can't they see...
The problem is not just you or me.
What happened to you?
Why can't you trust?
Your parents hurt you,
but that's only the crust.
You must dig down
find out what your feeling.
These issues inside,
I understand the screaming.
Share with me,
your problems and doubts.
I promise we'll try
to work this one out.
As the feelings emerge, the burden is lifted.
They tell me I'm strong and somewhat gifted.
I tell them the reason I do not hate.
I was like you, I can relate.
Death looms closer with every passing breath,
and I can't help but wonder when it will arrive.
I'm not afraid of Death; it is a consequence of life!
I worry that when Death does come, who will it take first?
When love bonds two eternal souls, Death's but an afterthought,
I feel selfish for wishing to die first; but the dread
of losing my soulmate far outweighs any qualms of Death.
But the rub is: I don't want my soulmate to suffer my loss, either.
The hope love gives is a measure of the pain its departure brings!
And the agony of losing my soulmate is more abhorrent to me
than Death, and may well trigger the anxiety that kills me!
Tears suddenly swell within my eyes, threatening to spill,
for whenever such sad emotions flood my heart, it hurts.
I try not to dwell on what might happen, but it's no use:
for the last few years, it's been weighing heavily on my mind.
Time is an illusion!
It moves swiftly, and yet, seemingly appears slow.
When I think about Death
the pain of our parting overwhelms me:
and anxiety magnifies my fear,
until it's blown out of all proportion.
It's not dying: it's living, I fear!
And I cry inside, dreading that any day,
Death could choose my soulmate, and I'll have to stay.
Eyes open mine since birth.
An old soul, seeing the world twice.
My mother's smile her mother's smile;
never changes, sadness overwhelms her face, still.
The sun comes, more days than before, but all too familiar.
Different time, but not different faces.
Words are spoken; when mouths were closed;
Same words; same people.
Some may listen, but do they hear?
Many voices, many words to remember.
I been here before, the same, but a faint difference.
You listen when I speak, I listen when you speak.
Ears are opening, faintly hearing.
Slowly are opening mine eyes since birth.
Catherine Johnson Broussard, Poet
By these bonnie banks and these bonnie shores
It's where I sit in wonderment adore
My humble seat, my rod and myself
Fishing the deep cast from a continental shelf
This place where I sit is monstrous in size
If you could peer to it's depths in amazement you'd sigh
Undulations of height traverse it's path
Being there millions of years there their to last
Every ripple I watch in the hope of a fish
In desire it's a monster is every fisherman's wish
But it's not just the fishing that captures my desire
It's the scenery of beauty, allowing my heart to never tire
My brolly I lower, to both hands at my rods helm
Splish splashing now ventures, it's pull now overwhelms
What have I caught, is it every fisherman's dream
No, it's the beauty of being here, so beautiful in extreme
I stand in full view of the glittering stars,
That crowds the open deep blue sky.
Leaves on trees sing harmoniously with birds and crickets,
in a soft unison beat played by the breeze.
I feel all my senses unite to sense one thing,
One thing that overwhelms my heart,
And makes it sink in the deep depths
Of the wonders of the LORD.
My soul is struck still
By the lightning of Eternal Greatness
I am electrified with intense awe.
A flash appears,
And brightens everything.
Then I see God in the world.
His Light, Power, Glory and Splendor
Covering all creation.
And I shout,
A shout so loud from the depths of my spirit,
That comes out of my lips as an echo.
Echoing a voice softer than a sigh of relief.
A prayer answered openly by the light of the sun,
To give life all over the world.
I shout from the source of my being
‘Praise The Lord’.
Form:
Since that morning, and this morning, and every day and night that may have passed, I have tried but pitifully failed to keep myself from crying uncontrollably every day. I find myself having to adjust a little more to the fact that you are gone and you were gone before even being given the chance to make a mark on this world & show everyone what you would have grown to be capable of. I know this is a part of life but it is not supposed to be a part of life that so frequently people see, because it just overwhelms us with profound grief, destroying our lives, but sometimes we just pretend that we are fine again today as much as the day before.
Today I miss you
I sit in the living room
To see your photos
Splendiferous, once was love;
it’s heights a peak of madness:
A burning need, a flow’ring seed
blooming with passion’s delight.
Differences seem to balance.
Weaknesses offset by strength.
A missing part connects two hearts,
Imperfect, but now complete
Hope and dreams unimagined
take root and begin to grow
with focused beam upon the scene--
a future slowly unfolds.
Day by day the living starts;
small quirks begin to annoy.
Somehow you find, through daily grind,
wide fissures and cracks appear.
First, comes the stiff, cold-shoulder;
then, talking turns to silence.
Throughout the room, pervades a gloom,
the pall of love in death's vice.
‘Til all that’s left is walking
despite certain pain and fear--
a scarred flesh with no hope-chest
to sustain it on the way.
Now prayers of intercession
Erupt from faint heart and lips,
a healing spell, curing the ills:
Holy balm for what afflicts.
One day, Love will stroll back in
to mend emotional wounds;
Transformed by grace, upon the face
of a soul in need of rest.
Hold strong to your faith, my friend
when the darkness overwhelms.
Until such time, you’ll ever find
my friendship is always near.
jsc 11/18/2015
This is the second poem I've written in this original form of 7-7-8-7 where the third line consists of six words with internal rhyme on words three and six. Now, I think the form needs a name. Any Ideas?
Part I – The Journey of Reminiscence
How often have I traversed
The lonely depths of my soul? It seems
Near an eternity since I’ve
Felt something…real
Perhaps everything is truly gone,
Perhaps I am the one that ceased to exist…
I do not know… Can anyone ever truly know?
I remember … Light
I remember … Joy
I remember … Anger
I remember … Might
I remember … Innocence
I remember … Love
I remember … Angels
But wait… I see something…
Is it really there?
Could it possibly be …?
Light …
O Cruel Fate! Why must this be?
Such pain in losing one’s existence does
One face, but why must I face it
Ever so endlessly?
My mind retreats to old times – my past
Such infantile ignorance I lived in…
Is this any better though?
Perhaps…
This vast nothingness that
Overwhelms me sheds but a single ray of light…
Light burns…
Purge me…
Purge me…
Purge me…
Part II – Torments of the Soul
Lament not for my darkest rest for it
Is not as it may seem…
Forever in this darkness I dream…
I dream of all that is good
I dream of all that is wicked
I dream of all that was
And all that ever will be…
I remember the Moon
I remember the Abyss
I remember the Night
I remember the Dreams
I remember the Years
A blind man in a dark room
An insight of forlorn grief
Will I ever truly see light?
What is light? What is dark?
Can I remember? Have I forgotten?
What is this in my palm? Such warmth…
It tingles with such spirited joy…
It is not fading…
It is getting stronger…
Or am I fading?
Perhaps…
Perhaps…
Perhaps…
Deja vu
Always without expectation, some instinct prevails,
opening with uncanny coincidence....
Ambiguous recollections... earmarking telltale, immediate recognition
Overshadowing reality, ... unleashing mysterious awareness
What explains the intriguing familiarity, obscuring conventional understanding?
With a tangible energy pulsing into places of the unconscious present,
a look, emotion, memory, inkling, hovers over, with unmistakable similarity,
and the experience, has intriguing, quite obtuse conclusions,
unaccountable happenings....abstract, without explanation,
strangely insightful, not obvious, somewhat undefined
While, all strange emotions will intrigue the orthodox,
Fascination undermines reason...alluring me, enthusiastically
to invite the offered baffling uncertainty
Here's a simple experience, maybe intuition's memory, outside the usual
Mysterious acquaintance without explanation
Be intrigued.... recognize omnipresence
which unravels rigid assumptions......while entertaining the imagination
This overwhelms convention. Unlike the antiquated, let's embrace these
incredulous things of life, .......unexplored
_______________________________________________________________
For David William's Contest: Con-Vow
She knows every member of her beautiful family,
and she's eager to call each of them by name.
She knows their gift and how to best use them.
She calls the ARTIST to beautify the landscape;
to paint those golden colors of leaves in the trees
that overwhelms us with the wonders of God's creation.
The season of Autumn reminds the TREES that their shady
chores are done and beckon them to release their leaves
to be blown in the wind, creating scenes and signals of Fall.
She waves to her gentle giant in the sky and whispers words
of calm and poise for the SUN to lower its temperature. She
calls upon the ATMOSPHERE to create the feel of a holiday and
festivity; to unveil the spirit of gratitude and merriness. she
acknowledges imperfection and apologizes for deadly storms.
100522PSCtest, A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry