Long Unsown Poems
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Laid with words
the writers stone
A fortress was columned
my only real home
The poetry safe
as it stammered and tried
As my feelings unbridled
from the outsiders lies
Each year added substance
to this home of the verse
My thoughts never silenced
or my feelings there terse
All that’s needed to go there
blind captured belief
All that’s needed to know
is that time is the thief
My vision unshaken
from this chair with two wheels
The advice from the experts
to wither and yield
But my place more than sacred
an invincible throne
Independent of body
times seed now unsown
And the moment before
I take my last breath
I will enter forever
where before I had left
The trumpets will sound
as immortality calls
To that space then my refuge
the sum of it all
As the memories chase reason
the facts storm again
But the tents of my solitude
keep out their wind
For generations that follow
and their children that ask
This place I now dwell in
is for all hard and fast
Just believe in its message
and its fortune to change
Just believe in transcendence
with all things the same
Until the day that that final
trumpet may blow
And everything seen
is all there’s to know
Your message then solid
as the door opens wide
And those things that are yours
to the heavens arrive
And the joy that you feel
thinking back on it all
From that place deep inside
—where first destiny called
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
Ahab needed shore leave,
And obsessed so on his dream,
Harpooning some sweet harlot
Had become his major theme.
He was just a novice mariner,
His first time far from home.
He’d made his maiden voyage
With his wild oats yet unsown.
Jezebel liked scrimshaw,
Always wore it like a queen.
She loved to dress in style
And had a taste for French cuisine.
She was just another working girl,
Young sailors were her game.
She didn’t dig Jehovah,
But she’d do Him just the same.
Ahab went on liberty
With fifty bucks in cash.
He laid down ten on his first tattoo
And a shot of sour mash.
Jezi smiled coquettishly,
Cooed, Hey there, cherry boy,
For forty shekels I’ll show you the ropes.
I shag like the real McCoy.
Jezebel naughtily lowered her veil
And shimmied her best Bette Davis.
Ahab said, "Baby, lead me astray
Where Elijah’s conceit can’t betray us."
Ahab followed Jezi
To her boudoir’s upper floor,
Singing gayly of Nantucket
Like some salty troubadour.
Ahab put his hand inside
Her open cookie jar.
The moment seemed electric,
Like Saint Elmo lit his spar.
Just then the temple cops burst in
And ruined his crescendo.
Ahab ran; they clipped his leg.
Jezebel jumped out the window.
This story and its moral
Speak of tragic dialogues:
Ahab deflowered a virgin prosthesis,
And Jezebel went to the dogs.
Yea if a man labours in pain
If not in the Lord, he labours in vain
But whatever a man finds to do
Be he even unto his master and to God be true
Even in his ministry to God above
Let it be cheerfully a sincere labour of love
For Christ laboured even to wash feet
And Paul condemned he that labours not to not eat
And ye are called into heights above the surface
In unity and maturity towards works of service
For even faith without works is dead
For by a working Master we are led
We are called for such a time as this
For works prepared aforetime and with apportioned grace
The will and the ability also built in us
That our days be spent in the pleasure of bearing the onus
For the awaiting judgment will weigh the deeds
A presentation of harvest, not of unsown seeds
HAPPY LABOUR DAY
Sometime Small Things are Huge
Written: by Tom Wright
3/6/2014
God,
You left with me your spiritual charge,
For this heart that only you could see.
You introduced a person into my path,
Along with a tremendous responsibility;
You burdened my heart for this one soul,
Beyond any that previously I’d known.
Years crept by while that bandit time,
Reminded me of seed I’d left unsown.
I seldom knew the correct thing to say,
And this often caused my heartfelt sorrow.
I could only pray that this life be changed,
And in some manner I’d know tomorrow.
As time whispered days grew into years,
I oft thought of this person’s well being.
I knew my prayer’s had not been in vain,
But questioned whether again I’d be seeing.
And then one day came a joyous surprise,
A letter that made the world seem right.
The immediate change seen in this person,
God had cleansed a heart making it white.
The grass is greener on the other side,
So sit on the fence and watch them collide,
The geese fly south to a kinder climate,
As we philosophise to find our fate.
Many say religion shall save your soul,
And this is fine if you wish to be whole,
I'll drift into the mystery unknown,
Planting all my seeds but keep some unsown.
While reap I shall from above and below,
Never knowing truly which way to go,
Keeping my eye on the prize, so to speak,
Remain a gentle man, one of the meek.
Continue down my path till my demise,
Hoping one day I shall call myself wise.
(Ten syllables per line)
In the kingdom's sanctuary,
atop the regal frame,
lies the emblem of sacrifice,
the crown's hallowed blame.
Nor adorned- with precious jewels-
reflecting royal might,
even more a symbol of august-authority,
a captivating seep of darkness piercing light.
O, the crown, a stately jest, replacing HIS due crest,
a weight upon the brow, and a blow upon HIS chest.
A burden and a blessing, it graces all all allows.
But behind the sparkling thorns, a story avowed
by Veronica's Veil
and a mysterious shroud that spreads wings
over the land like a tapestry of identity
and title deed over Death and Hell.
Of sacrifice and hardship,
manifolded for Man in a bleed.
The journey, ever burdened, by both heart and hand
and blood of gland to seed.
The guardian of Man and the seas
to land squarely at HIS lap.
He doth drink up the seas.
For a crown oft conceals the trials of a king,
the battles fought within,
the tears that cause the mushroom ripple
of restoring, need.
Each gemstone in a crown
holds a memory, etched-
in our individual and collective soul,
of joys and sorrows, of kingdom’s role,
what then more of a crown of thorns?
It holds souls in it's symboligy and irony.
And as a crown bestows grandeur
on a chosen head,
it whispers tales of triumphs, and whispers
of the once hopeless dead.
For love, is a double-edged sword that can rend mountainous rock into a river for a worthy land.
It can build splendid kingdoms or leave ruins
of heart in unsown empty hand.
So, behold ye the one who wore the crown
of might and love.
For beneath it lay the weight of the World,
to bear our plights of sin and bond.
Thus, let us not envy the crown HE bore.
Instead, let us remember-
the heavy share of load and lighten HIS,
evermore.
If we but listen to his WORD.
The loneliest road, a path unknown,
Where footprints fade, the seeds unsown.
Amidst the woods, in silent grace,
A solitary journey we all must face.
Beneath the moon's pale, silver light,
The stars above, a quiet night.
In solitude, we find our way,
A road less traveled, come what may.
Through winding lanes and darkened woods,
The loneliest road, where silence broods.
But in this solitude, we will find,
A deeper self, an awakened mind.
The loneliest road, it's not in vain,
For in its silence, we attain,
A strength to tread where others fear,
The road less traveled, crystal clear.
So let us walk with hearts held high,
The loneliest road, beneath the sky.
Embrace the journey, bold and true,
For in its solitude, we are renewed.
Sing to the stars a sonorous song,
Bring them out of their hiding,
Let them adorn the night sheet,
Summon the stars to dispel melancholy forlorn hearts meet.
Where are the embellishments of the sky?
Why is the sky left bare with no beauty to stare?
The night sorrows for its lamps,
Plain darkness holds sway and clamps.
The watchers are without a guide,
The sages are without a door,
The sky bleeds for unsown seeds,
The meadows are troubled by recalcitrant weeds.
Seduce the stars without a script,
Let your song echo in the night,
Then the stars will emerge with full light,
And the night will spill out its mysteries.
August 8, 2026.
Long past war’s fading drumbeats
And beyond the miasmic mists of time
Run undercurrents that displace peace
And fancied futures hoped sublime.
Once staccato beats of war drums abate
Far from war graves and their dead,
We find loved ones’ dismal fates
And lonely lives now filled with dread.
Soldier’s sojourn in the dash dividing
Dates on their eroding tombstones
Remind us that their lives, though exciting,
Ended not with hope but love unsown.
Once draftee’s dreams become forgotten
And their past romances are long since lost,
All that remains is what God left them
And scars they earned at frightful costs.
We too, wonder what will become of us
And we hope to pass our test divine
Once life’s abating hoofbeats leave us
And we’re enveloped by the fog of time.
Who will remember who we were?
Who will proclaim, “I KNEW THEM WELL?”
Who will stop and silently ponder
What our tombstone epitaphs fail to tell.
Note once upon
The way beyond
The pulse of feel
That lingers still
Gaze on the stars
With eyes ajar
Distant the dream
In subtle scheme
Aware of now
As tears endow
Awake to wit
In fits and bits
Look upon cheer
Yet be now here
Know the unknown
In void unsown
The seeker seeks
To take a peek
Ignorant proof
Ignores the truth
Love is the key
To mystery
Seize fond fancy
To simply be
Feel more than know
Then watch life show
Go beyond things
Let joy now fling
Ooze of fine booze
Can ease fond snooze
Leon Enriquez
18 February 2016
Singapore