Long Waning Poems
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The sun peeks his face out from the passing wind
still chilly and cold, and in this air the tree branches
stretch their arms to hold the sun as if sails on the deep and gray sky
The sun that is out of reach of a hand
may be a hope; no, it ought to be a hope
One night I saw a wayfarer, becoming a moonbeam,
going toward April stepping on the footmarks March
has left behind
Although he has gone through so many hills and high waters
with a knapsack on his back that was full with the countless
sentiments he put in it for pity’s sake, the sack was emptied;
for the lapse of time makes things wear and tear
his garment was worn to rags, and when the wind
passes through it penetrates the garment to chill the bone
The deep anxiety he is unable to shake off, and therefore,
reflected on the running water murmuring through the field
as ripples of moonbeam, which is not from the fleeting of time
or his sufferings while he was walking among the foes, but because
he is sorry for and worries about friends he has to leave behind
The friends, not many in number shared his happiness
at the time of banqueting, surrounding the table though
plain and simple, abundance in God;
at the time counting the falling stars lying on a stone pillow
by the gap between rocks. The friends, not in damnation but
in endurance and warmhearted understanding, talked about better day to come while burning the passions in the bone fire on a day when they were wet and shivering in early spring drizzle
For the days he was with his friends were too short,
it caused him an embarrassment in counting the days,
yet they were unforgettable moments of joyous and happy experiences
As he walked through the field with friends he talked about tomorrow
standing on the hill top side by side, he asked them to pray for him,
sitting on the sands by the water he sighed for he has to leave
the friends, the sweet and bitter memories behind
Nonetheless, he cannot just stand by a roadside as an emotionless stone,
he crosses the hill under the shade of a waning moon, and when
the humble hearted teary-eyed wanderer blooms as a lily on the other side of
the hill in dawning, the sunray fall on the lily on the dew
as hope to those who remember him, as happiness to the friends
he left behind, as the covenant of the Lord to all who trust in him
Glowing days that were once red-cheeked and ripe with promise,
Are narrowing like tall candles in a church window,
Tapering from the golden stand and the sturdy base,
To the glorious flame and the ever fading light.
The final birth of dreams that was once distant and cold,
Is now close, closer, ever closer.
The imminent darkened clouds of doubt, that haunt the wise,
Are now gathering close to form a ghostly shadow,
That will create a vast tempest, in a quiet place,
And a mighty torrent that will quench the firelight.
Unyielding waves of fear that are rising in the old,
Are now near, nearer, ever nearer.
To have once coveted the blue from the autumn sky,
Embraced the fallen leaves of a giant maple tree,
To have jumped into water without wondering why,
Leaped joyfully in the warm sand near the emerald sea.
Having playfully chased off the petulant sea gulls,
Broken twigs to build a fire against night’s attack,
Held tight in your strong hands the soft feathers of eagles,
And kissed a beautiful girl on the nape of the neck.
To have laughed at the tetchy clock ticking in the hall,
And smoked each distressing regret like a cigarette,
Knowing it would certainly give cancer of the soul,
The narrowing compels the pining heart to forget.
When forced to consent to the lessening of a day,
And to accept the waning of a moonlit heaven,
To wonder if the path taken was the only way,
Is to live in mortal fear inside a peaceful den.
To be ordered to find gratitude in the calming,
And to find a moments peace in the resignation,
Is not the purpose of the dancing and singing,
This game is but a trial of the imagination,
God has left the beautiful forest unattended,
There is no lesson, design or celestial rule,
To search for meaning is to invite eternal dread,
It takes a saddened, embittered mind to be that cruel.
An elegance can be found in the narrowing,
As memories line together like a pearl necklace,
And clouded moments vanish and amount to nothing,
And all are gently buried with red velvet and lace.
Love the narrowing, set in a purposeless blue sky,
Not because winter nights have become less frightening,
Or the smoldering summer days have now lost their sting,
But as there is no truth in the trumpet or the drum,
It is just a walk among the flowers of freedom.
And a laughing stroll through the narrowing of wisdom.
Part 3
9th Delerium: Emptyness
Water wheels in wastelands... turning,
drowning relics in the slum
Rumpled rags of fashioned burlap... burning,
lit by bandits blind and dumb
Pastured prisons, ponies bridled ... yearning,
forest fairies under thumb
Sounds inside of cauldrons coughing... churning,
blaring bugles, tattooed drum
10th Delirium: Alienation
Rain unravelling, wistfully weeping... falling,
treacle trickling, fickle sky
Mushrooms sprinkled, visions sprouting... sprawling,
seagulls drowning, dolphins die
Rabble gasping, spirits broken... crawling,
lonely lonesome swallows cry
Babbling brooks and breakers ebbing... bawling
puppies paddle, puppets sigh
People passing ripple past me... calling,
rainbow colours, collars high
Chaos seething, lepers looting... stalling,
stealing stallions on the sly
Pencils pausing, scholars scrambling... scrawling,
scratching scribbles, asking why
11th Delirium: Jetsam
Silver sails sway pallid pirates... prowling,
Jolly Rogers, wind and sound
Parrots perching, tattered feathers... fouling,
tethered talons, tied and bound
Shipwrecked foghorns, trumpets stranded... howling,
spiral springs of time unwound
Magic moonlight, shimmers shaking... scowling,
burnt out matchsticks washed aground
Prairie wolfs, coyotes calling... yowling,
witching hours, midnight hounds
Tightrope walkers, grizzlies grunting... growling,
seeking islands, lost and found
12th Delirium: Relief
Slumber shattered, vapours captive... haunting,
chained in mirrors, breaking free
Scarlet skylines, daylight dawning... daunting,
rivers rushing to the sea
Silence softens, sandmen whisper... wanting,
piercing rafters, turning keys
Shadows shudder, notions fluster... flaunting,
moonbeam bullets meant for me
Mind in migraine, meadows trembling... taunting,
sparrows speak in harmony
REAWAKENING
Pitter patter, teardrops paling... pearling,
salting scarves in secret drawers
Mist amongst us, smoke rings rising... curling,
climbing from the ocean floors
See-saw circles, senses swerving... swirling,
swept away with silver oars
Courtyard jesters, sceptres twisting... twirling,
push the past to foreign shores
Passing pangs of passions heaving... hurling,
burning bridges, closing doors
Roses wither, icons waning... whirling,
time decays and time restores
End
It is very impressive to go westward
in an early morning of midwinter,
because you will see a full moon
that you have forgotten for a while
in the middle of the western sky.
[The westward moon is, perhaps,
the one that Li T’ai-Po
who was bewitched by
and delighted by a moon so much
chanted poems in praise of the moon
throughout his life,
after breaking a thick frozen ice on the lake,
scooped an August full moon
that is not sunken but still floating
on the surface of water,
and pasted it to the wintry sky.]
Although the air in my car is still cold as ice,
and roadside snow is being melted from salt spray
and messy, covered with splashes of dirty water,
the moon, like a virgin still chaste,
[By manmade machine and men,
the moon, though, lost her virginity long ago,]
looks immaculate and gorgeous as ever.
For the moon
riding high in the western sky
enjoying the honor and admiration that is entitled
only to virgin girls
though she lost it long ago,
the north wind,
because of her envy toward the moon,
was wandering in the frozen waste
pleasure driving a sheer-white chariot
brings a violent snowstorm,
and heartlessly shakes the moon
that barely hangs on the midwinter’s western sky
to fall.
After so much abuse,
kicks, stamps, smacks, and blows of violent wind
that of more than she can bear
the frightened moon flees to south, then to east
with her paled and waning face,
and finally disappears somewhere
where no one will able to find her.
Total darkness covers the earth,
overwhelms to deny everything.
At the edge of this darkness
a somewhat eerie looking hunchbacked creature
[Although he was much intelligent,
yet tenderhearted, a man more sensitive
than the worldly-minded ordinary persons,]
comes and searches for the disappeared moon,
and when he finds
a segment of a shattered piece of moon on the earth,
he embraces it in his bosom with tears of joy,
and falls to the ground with his last breath.
And as a hunchback perishes
a young man with more holes
than the shattered pieces of fallen moon in his rungs,
who always whispered sadly to the waning moon
while leaning against a southward window frame,
comes and carries the hunchback’s remains hurriedly
in the cart to an eastern gateway, with gasping,
to the place where the full moon dwells, with panting.
Why Do I Write?
I was born in an era when Shakespeare, Shelley and Wordsworth were kings. Reading them was like hearing beautiful music and after all these years…it still is. Then I fell in love with Emily Dickenson and the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam…what wonderful words of wisdom they imparted!
I write because it allows me to express myself…my thoughts, my compassion, my soul… much as my singing has done all my life. Now that that part of my life is waning, I can still be a “diva” in my own eyes! lol
I write, because my heart tells me to in the wee hours of the morning when sleep eludes me. I write because these thoughts and words which are choking me...screaming to be free...must be released.
I write for those who mourn, or who suffer illness, to console them and say I understand. I write for the lonely, for those who have no hope. whose stories tug at my heart. Since I can't hold them close to me, I try through my poems to convince them there is hope and tomorrow will be better.
I write to be heard...to show I am still relevant and have viable thoughts and opinions to share with the world. Experience is still the best teacher. I write to protest injustice wherever I find it. To be silent would be cowardly.
I write humorously about inconsequential, everyday situations, to bring a laugh or two into our lives. I wrote my memoirs for my grandchild, to preserve the past for future generations. I wrote poetry to release grief and sorrow when death came to call, to help me find peace and acceptance.
I write my religious poetry…not to flaunt my religion…but to praise God and thank him for his sacrifice for me and for the peace his presence brings to me.
I also ask his blessings for my friends and loved ones and for the heavy in heart, so that they might find peace and deliverance from the evils of this world.
I do not expect my work to be published…I have no illusions about my talent…I write for everyman, most of whom would shy away from the literary world and consider it elitist in the extreme, but when tragedy befalls them, they take comfort in simple words of encouragement and consolation.
But most of all, I write for the sheer joy of it and because my soul requires it!
Copyright©2008 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
For Frank's "What turns you on" contest
the waning moonlight thinly enveloped
the dusky canvas obscurely sprawling
across the way from the window I looked,
I knew a park was there with slides and swing
but for the moment dark revealed nothing,
for the moment I didn’t care, either
because in darkness I felt even darker;
I was lying in bed embraced by regret
of decisions of love and time wasted,
spooning the layered sheets of doubt and fret
all thawed out from my heart into my head;
The memories of hurtful comments said
by and to me were chastising voices
of ghostly choices purposed to depress;
As dusk became the night I became lost
in whimsically strewn wishes and pleas
to gods and stars and genies alike, crossed
as eyes crying for mother drowned in seas,
I spoke to nobody but begged for keys
to unlock another time, another place
to start all over again with new space,
To unseen gods I had long since quit on
I prayed, bargained even, another chance
and I’d do everything right this season
- A jobless man needing a pay advance,
But for thirty three years nary a glance
had alpha or omega set on me
and this night I expected no divine decree;
several hours elapsed as I collapsed
in smoldering thoughts of suicide fanned,
- I had outlasted night’s concealing grasp,
and as the morning sun began its planned
ascent, I gave into Hades’ command
through my tenth floor window whispered to me
of hellish suggestions to jump and flee;
on ledge I stood and looked across the way
for one last glimpse of earth and pastel sky,
- a small souvenir of my final day,
My eyes settled on last night’s park from high
above, and that’s when I saw God’s reply,
- an unspoken answer for eyes turned blind,
His deafening promise to all mankind;
by his heavenly brushes came colors
where none had been, transforming lonely space
into one of vibrance and life renewed,
- and it was a different space,
I watched as birds celebrated morning
with songs of praise and thankfulness,
- and I felt a quick waning emptiness,
I heard the children below lining up
for the school bus all on time and ready
to live and learn in this new day granted,
- and I felt like I knew nothing at all;
but then I knew everything all at once,
and I stepped off the ledge ready to live,
ready to embrace
ready to seize life found…
in another time.
Verse A:
Oh how you've honed rebellion, made an art of breaking rules
Just to garner my affection, but I didn't have the tools
(And I never suffered fools - no I never suffered fools)
I loved you with my diligence and bent my back to make
A bridge of opportunities and a path for you to take
(Cleared a passage for your sake - yes a passage for your sake)
Chorus A:
Can you see it, in the mist
There on high - there on high?
There's an arch, heaven-kissed
In the sky, the hazy sky
You may not see it now
But I built it strong with love
And one day it will hold you
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, one day it will hold you
Bye-and-bye.
Verse B:
Oh I know how I've failed you in many ways I can't explain
We'll never have a friendship - I've caused you so much pain
(So many wounds remain - yes so many wounds remain)
Still I love you to my marrow, with a magnitude, profound
And I built a span, enduring, so you'd walk on solid ground
(So you'd be safe-and-sound - yes so you'd be safe-and-sound)
Chorus B:
Can you see it, in the night
There on high - there on high?
There's an arch, burning bright
In the sky, the somber sky
Perhaps you can not see it
But with love, it long endures
And one day it may save you
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, one day it may save you
Bye-and-bye.
Verse C:
Oh I know my life is waning, and my faculties are weak
My strength is failing daily, and I've lost my grand physique
(Now my prognosis is bleak - yes my prognosis is bleak)
And though I can not tell you how I feel before I go
I know someday you'll cross that bridge, and then, my son, you'll know
(Just how much I love you so - yes how much I love you so)
Chorus C:
Can you see it, through the storm
There on high - there on high?
There's a refuge, safe and warm
In the sky, the windy sky
I know that you can't see it, but have faith that it is there
I molded it with these two hands, with kindness, love and care
So every time you need a bridge you'll know that I am there
To carry you to safety
Bye-and-bye, bye-and-bye
Yes, to carry you to safety ...
Bye-and-bye.
(Repeat Out)
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Life – a churning maelstrom that batters the senses, the emotions
Ceaseless, never waning as it pounds endlessly on our soul
An eternal storm, lashing continuously against us
Beating at us, wearing down all resistance
Consuming us with its unstoppable power
Swirling with both uplifting and crushing forces, unseen
Some can embrace it, feeding on the energy it can provide
Living for each moment, enjoying, as it feeds them
Absorbing the never ending influx that fills their very being
Seemingly impervious to the darker clouds within
Their soul battles always to keep the crushing power at bay
Trying to feed only on the positive – always battling but surviving
Others find a safe harbor, somewhere to ride out the worst
To mend and patch their battered and beaten resistances
Not always safe, but never far from security, safety
Never wandering far from shore, forever seeking the calm
Building strong walls, keeping all but the strongest surges at bay
Never experiencing the thrills, the adventure – but always safe
But in the wildest, darkest parts, towards the centre of the hurricane
Some survive, fighting to the core of their being
Battered, bruised, their resistances all but destroyed by the ceaseless fury
They search, always looking for the right path, the way to peace
Few find a way, sometimes alone, sometimes with others
Battling to stay afloat, slowly finding a way through the chaos
But there are always the lost, seemingly caught forever in the maelstrom
Enveloped by the darkness, no beacon to guide them, no walls to shield them
Never noticed, ignored, feeling alone, adrift in a sea of despair, lost
Few will be saved, pulled and dragged to a safe harbor by caring souls
To survive, to live, to rebuild stronger, hoping against hope
Building their resistance to the constant storm, staying close to safety
For many, there is no respite, drawn further into the raging darkness
Feeling there is only one escape – the darkness at the very heart of the storm
Quiet, calm darkness, holding them steady while the maelstrom rages
A place they feel safe, free from the outside, free from the torment
Darkness, peaceful, completely enveloped, feeling free, total escape
It shelters them; somewhere they can be free from all - from life
Did you know that God has performed many miracles?
Quite the sight I bet, parting the Red Sea must have been a spectacle'
He did this so Israel would pay homage,
For God taken them out of bondage.
After Pharaoh watched his armies perish,
Did Israel grasp this and really cherish?
The price Pharaoh paid, along with his son.
Knowing that he pronounced the curse was from his tongue.
Couldn't wait they're faith waning,
They (Israel), made idols and continued praying,
Moses on Mount Sinai, getting the law,
His people singing,dancing down in the draw.
Moses returned, became good and angry,
Smashed the tablets, earthquake came suddenly.
Moses, hated them at this place and time,
They knew not what they had done, what a price to pay for that crime.
The Lord was angry, more then He ever had been,
They idolized a golden idol, Moses was heartbroken.
Later, the Lord continued to perform miracles,
Through David,who was fearful of the Lord, putting our Father at the pinnacle.
In Acts 13:2, " A man after God's own heart."
Within David, God and Spirit were never apart.
Wisdom was given to David, to rule justly.
Decisions from the Spirit, made David mighty.
David with many others are called prophets,
To have wisdom and the Holy Spirits knowledge.
God commanded to keep His Sabbath,
Exodus 18, clearly is the law and it's message is mammoth.
God made a covenant shortly after,
Special people, to His flock, thereafter.
The Ten Commandments, God's spiritual law,
Israel and God agreed to this, Holy without any flaws.
From Moses to David, and a covenant for sure.
To follow the statutes, and have a Spiritual cure.
God commands through His Holy Book, to be faithful,
Do this, and your Lord will bless you, and you'll be eternally grateful.
Now today, is the beginning of Passover.
Reminding Israel of another promise to escape death, the real story right to the core.
Then the weekly seven days after, unleavened bread,
The night the Pharaoh cursed all the firstborn, ans all Egyptians first born were dead.
So in closing, Our Lord is a Spiritual judge,
He angers when we forget to fear Him. and He does hold a grudge.
Obey the Lord, be humble but bold, and sincere,
He will forgive you, you, me, his flock, whom He loves so dear'
Breathless smiles pour over the seas
Enchanting oceans of beautiful memories,
Soothing graces, forever embraces –
Whispering light into the darkest nights,
Firefly inspirations, soothing and kissing nocturnal
Listening to the silence, sensations of hope
Kindness in caresses of June dusk, erasing all the loneliness,
Playing in rhythmic moments, challenging
Hearts to love like no one on earth has imagined,
With love so alive it makes hearts abide
In truths, promises, feelings – precious remembrances
From that last broken heart….
Passions and praises, prayers for penetrating
Grace, calming like the peace of a river, focused
On rearranging the destiny of a teardrop,
Flowing like melancholy, with quiet reflecting stardust
Promises, arranged on the tongue, lulling
Flames of joy through the spirit’s waning, indignant
Gentling, flames vibrating, trembling with hope,
Laughing like the insanity of a dewdrop leaking light
Over the sanctity of a blessing, the miracle
New life erasing the dusty morning, the wind
Blowing back the Autumn’s noise with a soothing
Sense of amazement…
Working out the feelings, the blessings –
Hues of tenderness, affection singing through the veins
Awakening the star studded moments, the secret
Thought, hope glistening in quiet tears,
Faith growing like the ocean’s beneath a hurricane
Bawling like lavender bruises on a heart who heals
When love touches the spirit, remembering
Crying with the elation, the moments of pure bliss
Pouring from a silent shadow, a sincerity
Who realizes that it is only God who can heal
Destroy the dark and shine a light of fulfillment
Through a life who dances, reflecting
The wonder that comes from believing…
A prayer, a heartfelt prayer –
Decides that true joy comes from sincerely
Believing, receiving the forgiveness
Like healing – His hand covering the spirit
With redemption, remembering
Grace like rain, falling gently, caressing and revealing
What it means to listen to His sigh,
His kindness falling tender over each smile,
Erasing all the dread, embracing the faith
Believing that love is the answer to each prayer!
Forever – I’ll praise Him – Forever
I’ll praise… Him, the One who has saved me,
The amazing – the King, the forever that abides within!