Long Rush(a) Poems
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I’m stranded here, a lonely isle.
The waters rush, a whelming trial.
I’m fearful, Lord, my heart does ache;
Let not the waters overtake.
You lead me to the waters still,
Yet I disturb them with my will.
When I lie down and when I wake,
Let not the waters overtake.
Like Peter, Lord, I’ll leave the boat,
But without You, I scarce can float.
Extend a hand for thine own sake;
Let not the waters overtake.
My Lord, a rock on which I stand.
Jordan recedes; on promised land.
Your firm foundation will not shake;
The waters shall not overtake.
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for the A Kyrielle About Water Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
written 08/08/2022
I have to admit that I'm not quite sure
Why I write poetry --Just what is the lure
But here's a stumbling stab at an explanation
An attempt to plumb the fascination:
To capture a moment, a feeling, a scene
In a magical form, pure and pristine
Be it a snowfall, a cloudburst or kiss
The thrill of getting it right is one not to miss
So there it is: It's exciting! It's a thrill!
Comparable to that of an adventurer who will
Climb Mount Everest 'just because it's there'
Or venture deep into the jungle on a friend's dare
Because there's an adrenaline rush, a feeling quite giddy
"Hurray! I've created something romantic, or uniquely witty."
So, is there something wrong with that? Something amiss?
Au contraire! To deny oneself the pleasure would be a great pity!
I'll walk the shoreline with you,
look behind to see, two footprints in the sand
washed away by the incoming tides,
salted air and sea foam breezes
rush a chill upon the stetched out land
looking out upon the ocean from safe land;
here lay quiet and still renewed,
buried deep within the marriage bands
all the secrets that we hide,
cast deep and burrowed yet finally eases
those memories we held within our hands
where time and love linked firmer hands;
walk a little further in the evening hues,
let dusk set the sun light where we stand
bond us together in the sea where life abides,
stand brave and bold beneath as life seizes
the light house and the harbor grand
bow to the lives we live well planned.
When you speak to me don't shout.
Don't force your opinion -
there's no need.
Hear the gentle persuasion of
subtlety. The lilting poetry
of seduction.
When you want me don't pounce!
Don't force your masculinity -
there's no need.
Listen to the rhythm of sexual
symmetry. The sensual exchange
of chemistry.
Be gentle in this brutal world;
Subtle tones not garish colours;
sensitive handling of one another.
Its all too loud, too cruel,
too brash, too selfish.
Jagged edges no smooth finish.
Life's such a rush, a dash, contention.
Road racing, no time for meandering.
Turn down the volume.
Freewheel, foot off the pedal.
Power down ego and power up your heart.
Discover sensitivity,
you'll be surprised!
So when you speak to me - don't shout!
There's no need. I can hear you
I heard the quiet breaking of your heart
soft as rain against a darkened room
I stood in the doorway (cracked slightly) asking only
if there was space enough for me to come in and talk
You said you were alright through falling tears
but pain had made your voice too small to hide
So, I sat with you in the tender moment
and let the storm spend itself inside
We spoke until the night grew comfortable
until your sorrow loosened little by little
And when I told you I had cared for years
it was not to claim you, only to be truthful
For love, if it is worthy of its name
does not rush a wounded heart along
It waits beside your heart with open hands
and whispers, "I have loved you since we were young"
Beneath the rippled, sunlit glass,
I rest among the eelgrass blades,
A shadowed world where currents pass
Through quiet, emerald-tinted glades.
A gentle pulse draws in the tide,
Through open folds, the feast is spun;
I sift the sea where currents glide,
And take the bounty of the sun.
A sudden rush—a snapping spark—
I lift and dance upon the floor,
And vanish swiftly in the dark
To settle on the sandy shore.
Here, safe within my textured walls,
Away from cruising shadow’s eye,
Where peace defines the quiet halls,
The rushing world may wander by.
Adorned in ribbed and fluted grace,
Where painted bands of pink align
With lavender across my face,
The ocean's quiet masterpiece—
A living scallop...resting.
Oh! To wish of a far-away land,
Where flowers of all colours bloom without fear,
The colours that our eyes can meet,
Of all the dreams we left unseen.
Oh! To wish of a serene icy lake,
Where the ice sparkles at the morning rays,
The rays of sunshine we beseeched,
Of all the people we left behind in memories.
Oh! To wish of a majestic forest,
Where the canopies are taller than our hopes,
The leaves protecting our inner souls,
Of all the rumination we cannot forsee.
Oh! To be so wishful in existence,
Where the whims of emotions rush a breeze,
The wind reminding us of our liveliness,
Of all in this world we can imagine and be.
Rush,a big rush
Corner to corner why this rush?
Here and there Corona virus
World’s where the most rush
Sea of heads like fire bush
Noses put on bad shape hush,hush
Made in China
A new brand,Corona virus
Life guaranteed
But not user friendly
Quick to attract,quick to attack
You made this Globe into a size of a ball
Why do you say no when it’s in roll?
Virus,
To see no scope yes,I hope
In size a dot? no a dot of a dot of a dot!
Catching souls ever ready
Everybody not in steady
Sorry, still no remedy
Oh,Madam,Nadine Dorries,you too?
Who and who next in list?
WHO, what for you still awaits?
It ate UNO the peace
You WHO now the ease
Go,
Go,please!
Every stethoscope
Touches hearts
But not the witch stopping beats
These stethoscopes flying in half mast
In the shape of a question mark
Unable to go beyond their set marks
At school you learned health is wealth
How it’s true when wealth is dying for want of health?
In a cart bull what comes first
For God it’s cure sick next!
Whole World here,come quick
Pick up those stethoscopes you kicked
Bring them all to God’s foot!
Know,that God survives
When there are no lives
Whole World please come to work with God
Believe me he is good of all very good!
It arrives not as a slow dawn, but a fracture—
A sudden, violent tearing of the gray,
Where neurotransmitters leap in manufactured rapture,
And logic bends to the blinding light of day.
It is a temporary kingdom built on air,
A frantic, soaring, breathless, desperate high,
Ignoring the foundation of despair,
To watch the mundane world dwindle and die.
The heart becomes a drum with an accelerated beat,
Distorting time until the seconds, stretch and bend,
A breathless rush, a sweet and sharp deceit,
That promises a joy without an end.
It is the apex where the self dissolves,
A chemical, ethereal, phantom grace,
Where gravity loses its hold, and ego solves,
Into a momentary, breathless, liminal space.
But at its peak, the architecture starts to lean,
For all ascension mandates a return,
The higher the flight, the deeper the machine
Must crash when the bright, burning engines turn.
Euphoria is a loan, a borrowed debt,
A fleeting, dazzling, brilliant, stolen breath,
That leaves the trembling, wakeful mind to fret,
In the quiet, cold, inevitable aftermath of death.
The snow fell lightly facing Tehran the stars all seemed to glow over the Capsien Sea from a heated Indian Ocean beholder of the Black Sea we hadn't battled cold like this an yet a deeply covered warmth seemed to cradle us beneath the blanket of whiteness from the snow capped mountains I bathed within the darkness beckoning Turkish chants Kurdish findings began to swell as we approached Turzikistan border my mind emptied over the darkened rush a canvas of clarity balanced virtue wondering when the vessel will raise over uncharted waters I craved Almaty wholesome wonder of Silk Road while I even began to notice hope springing from a fountain of lush memories gathered so beneath me glaring the fondness of it all as we sank in silence flashing lights embraced the craft as the Voss shore moved closer the clocks from the Kremlin chimed my thoughts totally on the consecration of Mary mother of God balanced over the middle east watching lucifer gloat over crude oil untimely measures grew more needed as righteousness burned very slowly on the ice masters of faint hues pulled hidden treasure from hidden nooks faucets burst with crystal clear waters while tar and oil sprang up from beneath covered wells lessons sang loudly with greed no one noticed the hungry the unclothed nor the sick in need
Written 3-23 2024 by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen