Long Surrendering Poems
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MIRAGE OF CLARITY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the side view mirror of the U-Haul,
my familiar world slips away,
the verdant green hills of North Texas,
lush and breathing,
their whispers fading into dust.
We roll into the heart of the Permian Basin,
the lushness surrendering to the parched expanse.
Flat is the land—yellow, ochre and brown;
the sagebrush and mesquite, stoic in their resilience,
pay homage to the sun's relentless gaze.
Late afternoon, the Chihuahuan Desert unfolds,
the earth here wearing its scars like a badge of survival.
The vast expanse of dusty solitude lay before us,
the heat wrapping around us like a heavy coat
where the roads led to nowhere in particular.
Dusk arrives, and the sun, a fiery, molten orb,
sinks into the embrace of night.
I wonder in this desolate land if I’ll find beauty,
if the road ahead holds new hills to climb,
or merely more miles of flat, aching unfamiliar stillness.
Morning arrives with a hush,
the sun blinding me—a sudden flash of brilliance.
Shielding my gaze, I look far off into the distance.
The aridity somehow frees the light
unleashing the desert’s grandeur.
The sky is a gorgeous, intense blue color,
the sand dunes taking on sunlight and pulse.
Though the earth here isn’t cloaked in forest,
nor draped in pastoral, peaceful green,
it dons a simple, comfortable, khaki-colored robe.
Like shadows retreating, the past shifts,
a mirage of clarity rising in the shimmering heat.
I stand, not just in the light, but in the beauty of now,
knowing the desert holds the promise of something magnificent and new.
I clutch it close to my heart.
Poem written for “Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder Poetry Contest,” Crystol Woods, sponsor, July 2025.
We want to heal-
scab stealers wont allows us too
sneaking up on us-
giving us new busy work
side trackers –
killing us
the only hope we had left
invested in our progeny.
progenitors
Our children become our ancestors
Arrested -
Denied freedom.
assaulted,
Degrading us our offspring.
They make examples out of noble men.
Leaders not knowing what day will
be their personal doomsday while
They recite a healing prayer on balconies
Thinking “is this my end”.
"As they risk healing folks in large crowds with
un-trusted friends watching their backs
Let me get these words in As
We begin to heal from
the power of love.
These "scab thieves’ who snatch
scabs off the old wounds.
Create and open new wounds,
As they dare us to heal.
We fall to the ground.
as the targets keep
Dropping they
Kill the mighty to
Control the weak.
We are angry -No time to heal -
Angry People
Bopping ignorant
Pop ups- Bobble heads, popping up
like bobble heads at a carnival.
We needed the big black men-
who soon after that
Perplexed us
Who were they that stood
on Hunter street?
In front of Paschal Brothers
Over near "Don Clendenin’s"
surrendering
Waving White hankies
at tricks and enemies
We are bleeding now...
The scab makers are winning
where and from wince –
Do they come from?
or go to?
Wall Street or colleges-
White collar preppies-
promoting separate causes.
We still chant
Free Mandela
“we loved him too
They all were gone
to the grave or to prison.
Many wounds open
blood everywhere.
Perplexed.
Things fall apart again in...2013
2013 is here.
We are still with open wounds
Remember now wonder
can we heal if they?
keep re-opening our wounds.
My tolerance is no more for
nincompoops and
Poot—butts, chastising
Empresses and Kings.
Knowing nothing....
While pulling off scabs
Who am I, if I lose focus?
There will be no us-
So, I relent,
Leaving them where
they are - or at least
where I found them!
I really feel that until I die
I have a connection to someone’s
future I have wounds to heal.
I must remember-
“I cannot get angry for you”,
Lest I get stuck fighting your battle.
“I will get angry with you”
I will fight aside of you.
Too far gone it seems,
heart's deluded dreams,
distanced from the truth,
caged in ego's booth.
The rot's sunk in deep,
fears and desires seep,
as a dark spiral,
that has gone viral.
Remedies we seek
only make us weak,
as our goalposts shift,
leaving us adrift.
We must understand,
the key's in our hand,
for we alone choose,
fragrance of our muse.
Moments of true joy
were sans ego ploy,
when we then did flow,
vibrant and aglow.
Stagnation the cause,
which if put on pause,
enables release
from thinking disease.
Relinquish belief
and get some relief,
looking at each hue,
once again anew.
Simply being still,
surrendering will,
our form's magnetised;
God thus realised.
We're not mind-body
or a somebody
but are living light,
to learn love's delight.
Once our heart knows this,
we're suffused with bliss,
as God's true essence ~
self-luminescence.
05-July-2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 31 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Battle cries circling through the air
Civil Rights alert and Caution
Speak out wrong and make right
Eyes of the world standing and being counted
Dr. Martin Luther King stood strong and determined, and made a mark on Civil Rights history back then
It’s time to make our history in the making being now and continuous
We must walk through the forbidden waters
Not eat the forbidden fruit that wants to destroy
The need to mobilize and bring Civil Rights another surprise
The journey and atmosphere in Dr. Kings honor
Footprints left as a floorplan track
Our time to rise up
Legacy echoes
Brothers and Sisters don’t be still
There is work in civil rights to fulfill
Breakthroughs unto will
Dr. King being our pinnacle of strength
Breaking barriers at every length
Distance showing no stop
Horizon in observation in what is to come
Agenda full of courage and determination towards victory
Dr. King’s story speaks for itself in action fact
There is a need of a new chapter that couldn’t be finished by Dr. King
There was never no conclusion, but a fight that relishes on
We can’t settle and be silent
Surrendering is not an option
Multiple eyes on the civil rights principle
Rise up and not give up
Freedom our liberty
Change our reality
Unity our togetherness
Battle cries echoes
The Mountains hear and respond
Brothers and Sisters we are the solid ground for which we stand
“WE THE PEOPLE”
O Lord our God,for Jesus paid the price in full
Now your Children are killing one another
To make your earth looking good very dull.
Starving children , homeless famines on the freezing streets
For them to have an hour in our shoes
In warmth safety be plentiful, would be an amazing treat.
No situation is permanent whatever you are going through
Its only for a season, just do what you MUST do .
And that is to cry out to Jesus, he holds open doors for clear paths
Trust in him, cast your cares worries fears all your burdens to him
He has already done the equation and the math.
For surrendering everything to the Lord, for all that you are
Here has already overcome the world, so let him in the driving seat
And jump in the back seat of the car .
Because no situation is permanent, he turns hate to love anger to peace
He came to set the captives free from sin
For there to be an imminent release .
Oh, shattered and broken
after my husband's accidental death!
My life was darkness and tears,
I was in a pit of pain with high walls,
and no hope-
I lost my job and was collecting- welfare
humiliated- I moved back home.
He died way too soon
after the babies death!
I wanted to be strong. I
looked deep into my soul, and found nothing-
even wished to end my life-
to break free of the imprisonment.
I wanted to cast off the cloak of death!
Oh, just to end the captivity!
And I dreamt of the sea, that blue
chasm, always struggling, never surrendering
seeking its path. And I listened and
found deep inside of me a little bird
singing. And she was growing
stronger. Her song
mighty, full of hope and courage.
Then, one day she broke free!
A broken wing-
did not hold her back
and she just flew and flew-
_________________________
April 19, 2017
Free Verse/Struggling, Never Surrendering
Copyright Protected, ID 893842
Broken Wing
Frank Herrera
Heart knows there’s more to us than this
Earth bound desires hold no allure
Scriptures speak of God’s light and bliss
Enabled, if our heart be pure
Earth bound desires hold no allure
We seek rapture that does not end
Enabled, if our heart be pure
God takes our hand and we ascend
We seek rapture that does not end
Surrendering will, we are still
God takes our hand and we ascend
By His grace, voids within soon fill
Surrendering will, we are still
Bliss magnetism engulfs our form
By His grace, voids within soon fill
All we do, is with love conform
Bliss magnetism engulfs our form
We finally see who we are
All we do, is with love conform
We shine like a luminous star
We finally see who we are
Scriptures speak of God’s light and bliss
We shine like a luminous star
Heart knows there’s more to us than this
At Rotterdam in Netherlands
I made plenty of window friends
I could reach out to them
whenever I missed my own
friends and near ones back home.
The window facing the South unfolded
the beautiful, enchanting river Masse.
Its simmering and quivering depths reflected
the multitudenal colours of historic city it nurses.
The bright sunny days with clear blue skies
Were often dotted with jets with gaseous, white, long tails
Criss crossing randomly in all directions
expressing the vastness of freedom and joy.
The golden setting sun
sprinkled the mature shades of
orange and red and yellow
in the reflective silver flows of the Masse,
slowly admitting its failure
to defreeze the lakes and snows around
and to warm up the cockles
of the easterlies which travel
far from Russia on a typical winter day,
before being engulfed by
dark and grey clouds at the horizon
like a surrendering fugitive.
The act of humbleness of the mighty sun
the only energy source of our universe
betrayed the celeberative mood of the city lights
which danced proudly on the flowing waters of Masse at night.
The frame of the window facing the North
helped me rendezvous with few more friends
the historic church there
stood in its monolithic glory
kissing the sky with its long Needle thin tower
its clock religiously reminding us
of the duties that we had to perform,
could not be missed by anyone.
Looking down at the street below
the empty red and yellow trams of RET
curled in sleepily into their shelter
at Strissenburgdwarsstrat
for a well deserved rest
after having served the varied commuters
of the city of Rotterdam.
Not too far in the distance
beyond the red brick and brown brick roofs
and amongst bare trees
I could also spot a wind mill,
its huge wings rotating leisurely
ever challenging the winds to come faster.
From either of the windows
I could let my imagination fly
and accompany the lovely
seabirds to limitless ends
the greyish white winged beauties
were enticed closer to me
when I opened the window panes
with crumbs of bread for them,
thrilling me with their aerobics.
When I came back home from there,
and met my native friends again
I started to miss all these new friends of Rotterdam.
RET: Rotterdam Electric Tram (Rotterdamse Elektrische Tram)
A long time ago a King left His kingdom and His throne
To pay what could be paid only by Him, and just Him alone,
A Mighty Lord who was willing to die for yours and my sins,
And make us all brand-new again when we invite Him in
Knowing full well the rewards of His salvation plan
Help us remember that we are all held in God's own hand,
One day when we arrive to Heaven, what's it first we'll see?
But Jesus, with arms opened wide as happy to greet you, and me!
I am but a sinner, who's now living by His blessed grace,
Washed clean by the Blood of my Lord Jesus, who died in my place,
By surrendering everything I have to God, each and every day,
I can be certain for sure, I'll not be that easily led astray!
:)
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004-2008
Dec,10,2008
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET JESUS!
Confronting Tomorrow
Persuading
my curiosity
to counter my fear
I looked beyond the fray
Never being sure
I was dead or alive
the crossroads of tomorrow
— to enter or stay
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
Before Fate
How many times
must you lip sync
your schtick
to finally get it right
How many lies
must forever
be told
to block the brightest light
How many lovers
must swim
in your wake
eventually to drown
How many times
must you rebait
the trap
— before its fate impounds
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
Surrendering All
Escaping deep
into my art
without an exit
shown
Surrendering
what’s yet to come
for this one moment
shown
Escaping in
to venture forth
the one-way signs
abound
Surrendering all
to win at last
what prescience
— will impound
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
Sentience
The journey
is the destination
Each step
tomorrow gleaned
All glory
for dishonor’s sake
As sentience
takes the lead
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
Distant Thunder
If Morrison
returned
would the desert
repair
Would lizards
still hide
in forbidden
night lairs
Their King
they await
like groupies
in heat
To re-shed
their skins
then gather
to greet
The one
who had freed them
then left them
forlorn
Who slithers
inside them
the eye
— of the storm
(Joshua Tree National Monument: March, 1981)
Square Root Of The Present
Time is now
whose moment refrains
The instant upon us
— as reference abstains
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)