Long Unraveled Poems
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Dear Calliope, muse and faithful advisor,
and ancient goddess, a poet's treasure.
She guides my words, for hers are wiser
with perception far beyond all measure.
We paint images; a pen is our brush.
Crumbled pages lie all about in the den
where we huddle in thought, hour after hour.
She insists life shouldn't be lived in a rush
and smelling roses will heighten my Zen.
My muse is inspiring, lovely as a moonflower.
No vagabond muse, she's never wandered.
Nor a stargazer, scanning constellations.
I always praise her for time not squandered
and cannot blame her for my frustrations
when I become distracted in mid thought.
Asleep and drifting in the midnight sky,
she fills my head with rhapsodies in dreams.
Romantic notions whispered to my heart ~
Lines for a sonnet that would make lovers sigh
when it is decreed beneath pale moonbeams.
More journeys than I, has Calliope traveled.
Her metaphors are gifts offered to me
when I'm lost for words and a titch unraveled.
How grateful I am for such loyalty.
Without her guidance I'd surely fall short
of any rightful claim of poetic success.
Somewhat feisty, yet whimsically droll,
urging me to write a mirthful retort.
Skillfully she directs me with finesse,
this glorious muse living within my soul.
“In no time, made myself indispensable
I bask now in the sunshine of my popularity
I have made the young and old my minions,
Giving each one what he wants
Snippets of news, served in lightning speed
A magic world unraveled at the click of a button
Making you sedate as with opium
Turning you into addicts of my hypnotic charm
Some stay wide eyed staring into my screen
‘Night owls’ who refuse to follow the dictum-
‘Early to bed and early to rise’-
The time old ‘mantra’ for wellness
I imprison you in a world of make believe
Where only we two exist, you and I
Your spirit arrested without handcuffs
Your eyes, resting no more on what is around
Confined to a virtual cage, you turn into a prisoner
Sadly, the key in your hands tightly clutched!
Remember, you are as free as you choose to be
I have my sway only on the gullible....!
Alas! With your sense of direction lost
You turn into a moth, caught fast in my web,
Mysteriously drawn into my incandescent light,
Unaware of the peril looming or the claws tightening”
Folks, break free of this confinement, cut off the hooks
Your spinning around only makes you dizzy
Digital technology turns a boon, when used discreetly
Smart phones, a bliss making the whole world within reach
Sans this, we fall headlong into primordial darkness,
Unschooled of what happens around, unable to cope with change
So squeeze out the essence and discard the dregs
And embrace your transition from the possessed to the blessed!
Placed First
Jan.8.2022
Let’s Explore Digital Technology Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Simon Rogerson
As much as my fingers aspire, and endeavour,
I can not compose an exultant tune on my violin!
This violin is my kindred soul from early years,
Who I always turned to if I needed shelter
From harsh realities of life!
From hurt, suffering, sorrow, or melancholy!
Love flowed from my heart without hindrance,
When I played the tunes I composed myself,
The magic stemmed from pathos, poignant emotions,
My senses were drowned in the world of tender lilac dreams,
The strings of my soul vibrated with saffron imagination,
And I was not heartbreakingly broken any more!
I wanted to play cheerful notes as spring birds
Merrily cooing songs serenade,
Even though my inside wept inconsolably,
The Violin unraveled my raw instincts
Better than anyone in this world,
Violin continued creating doting music for me,
When lavender yearning filled my passionate heart!
I touched each and every string softly and gracefully,
With tenderness and care,
As if not to hurt them, as if they are the softest flower-petals,
As if they were born from my lyrical existence,
Every string is unique, and has its own voice and identity,
But together they create faraway ethereal songs,
As if a chartreuse waterfalls cascading on coral rocks,
Raindrops at dawn whispering magical marvels of life ~
I embrace my violin...tightly to my heart,
Life is not a rainbow fantasia,
Sadness is truth, truth sadness!
Another Mass Shooting
What's wrong with this country
Put your arms around the cities
Another horrific shooting
Another historical tragedy
Guns and bullets to destroy our lives
Innocent children have to see this
Our hearts goes out to the victims
Another church shooting targeted
With no morals
No fear of judgment
More bullets flying
The world is burning
Another unraveled town
Someone has to pick up the pieces
Violence will never end
More flowers placed on the graves
Look up to the Cross
There’s no reason for this
Leave all of this behind
Another motive unwind
No one deserves this
Stand united with open arms
Minneapolis Minnesota
A POET'S LAMENT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Under the night's blank canvas,
I sit, a lone figure,
my ink-stained fingers poised.
I carry the burden of unsaid poetry,
ideas that were never expressed,
and metaphors that disappeared like echoes.
I linger upon the rhymes that unraveled
like threads pulled from an old sweater,
frayed and forgotten, lost in the seams of time.
I am lost in the fabric of language
unable to stitch together
an ensemble of cohesive words.
In dawn’s quiet hours, I wait for inspiration,
for the first light to break, to spill over
into the edges of my thoughts.
I sit, a solitary figure
my weary mind suspended
beneath the empty canvas of daylight.
The stitches begin to unravel
The seams are tearing apart
Arteries bursting within a heart
Through insanity the mind travels
Unable to grasp the sincerity
Through a kaleidoscope of fears
Drowning within rivers of tears
Thoughts no longer have clarity
Living like a garden vegetable
Dreaming of being an intellectual
12/29/2017
Written for contest: (5 words, 10 lines Rhyme)
Placed 1st in Contest Results
Deep are the flowers
By the river, we lay.
Soft are the whispers
That give us away,
And the moonlight falls.
Kiss of the winter
Across our skin.
Songs of the river
That draw us in,
And the moonlight falls.
The shadow of your voice
Drifts across my mind
It’s cold here tonight
In the shadow of your voice.
My heart is unraveled
As I stand here and pray.
Miles I have traveled
Just to send you away,
And the moonlight falls.
Voices are calling
‘Cross the river of time
Tear drops are falling
And this choice is not mine.
And the moonlight falls.
The shadow of your voice
Drifts across my mind
It’s cold here tonight
In the shadow of your voice.
© Cherie September 2004
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”.
What to do with the remains of a man carved hollow?
After years of war and struggle and hardship,
when his love is stripped away,
his morals stolen by the thief of time.
The people tear him open, then feasting on his open flesh;
What shall the monster do?
He shall retaliate, crushing everything in his path, his sights set on one thing.
To return to his love.
He's already fought blood and bone with the public, now his biggest enemy awaits.
He sits at the edge of the lake, peering at his reflection below.
The battle with the toughest monster has now officially begun.
The universe is a jester and his torturous existence is one of its many jokes.
His eyes wander to the stars dotting the sky above.
They are blazing lies of hope, veiled by the false promise of a granted wish.
Oh, man definitely has a wish. Man is greedy.
He longs for his love.
His ray of light in the darkness, the gentle breeze that clears his storm.
The Earth beneath him recoils, rejecting the weight of what he has become.
His hands curl into fists-- yet the battle is long over.
He tumbles into the lake. He sinks and sinks.
Clawing at anything, absolutely anything to save himself from plunging,
His desperate screams ripped from his throat as he plummets deeper and deeper.
His sudden drop is cushioned by two gentle limbs.
He looks up, and meets someone's eyes-- gentle and familiar.
Fingers threading through the tattered sinew of his soul,
Winding and mending the broken remains of him back together.
Monster falls apart. He has never looked so small in his entire life.
The ghost of unsaid words bubble up as his breath dissolves into the water.
No war, no battle had ever unraveled him like this.
No enemy had left him this bare and vulnerable.
Not a warrior, not even a monster.
Just a man.
And nothing in this world is more fragile, more doomed--
Than a man with nothing left.
I don't want this—kindness!—she utters with bitterness,
like a storm breaking out unexpectedly,
may the heirs remain in the secret abyss,
prodigies of the stars that dance in the night sky,
brothers of darkness that embrace silence,
servants of the moon that watches over sleeping dreams.
Why must one yield to the other,
when both can coexist like two flowing rivers?
On the hem of my ancestors’ garment,
adorned with stories woven through time,
in the kingdom of my heart, a hidden sanctuary,
let there be neither flicker of light nor drop of life,
nor traces of the vines that bind earth to sky.
May this realm remain a beacon of lineage,
an indelible dream from minds, a sanctuary of shadows,
where stories intertwine with the dawn's light.
Leaving behind only echoes of unfulfilled desires,
like whispers on the gentle evening breeze,
in this world where duality dances,
like two flames in a silent and eternal symphony,
souls find their balance in embrace,
like two stars meeting in the vast sky.
And perhaps, one day, we will all understand,
that between light and darkness is a sacred space,
where hearts sing their eternal tale,
a harmony of existence enduring through time,
a song that resonates beyond time and space,
a bond that can never be unraveled.