Mediates Poems | Examples

Nature's Poetry

I walk through the woods of words
sentences seep as melting snow into
rushing rivers of chime and rhyme 
adventurous animals arch with alliteration 
with some nibbling on letter leaves
I chase leaping lizards who hide limericks 
irises ignite and inspire my imagination 
while their colors blaze on muse mountains 
pansies provide me petals of the poems 
poppies pop puzzled punctuation to me
meaningful moon mediates with metaphors 
sun streaks and peaks with symbol stanzas 
clouds clap communication to me 
now home I type like butterflies in flight...

April 12th 2015

Justice

She cries for the slain,
She mediates for the oppressed,
She opens the door for the innocent,
She avenges the tortured.

Her voice is heard on the streets,
Where the feet of the downtrodden tread,
Her tears flow at the grave,
Where the massacred are laid.

She walks into the courtroom, 
Her presence permeates the space,
She hears the cries of the forgotten and lost,
She goes in search of an arbitrator.

She traverses crooked lanes,
She journeys on jagged terrain,
She searches out the lost pieces,
She embraces the embittered.

The Ms Take It Away

Many moms make a mishmash of marshmallow melon month of rites
Marmie and Magnus mined minx’s minestrone meatball mites
Magnificent Marmaduke mollycoddles minute rice making mush.
Merry majestic Mallificent minced magnetic mimosas in a rush.

Mushroom men marbled Marley’s meatballs mooing with madness.
Muddobber’s melancholy miniscule mites were wooing with sadness.
Magnificence of Manny’s marsh mediates in miniscule rites of badness.
Ma makse a mishmash of marshmallow melons, and it is pure rad-ness.

Auslander

The Ausländer
David J Walker

We share the world with sinners
We share the world with saints

We elect ourselves the oft mistaken 
magistrates 

Who mediates 
The distribution of the various 
prison tattoo’s 

Branding with scarlet letters 
The cautions of crossed pathed 
		Possibilities

each emblem 
the feared
confession of Caine

The smokey glass window stained with 
		the flawed and 

overexposed soul 
of someone who knows
		he/she

will always be 
		an  Ausländer

Autoparks

Cars and bars   
The neon of an unknown 
Auto-park, silent   
Buildings of industry 
Landmarks of a dying nation 
A land falling apart 
The hum of electricity 
Drones into the endless night 
Lights flash and swim 
Splashing across the land 
Of lost dreams and wars aftermath   
Something walks  
A hand dire crafts 
Blood and alcohol
Covering all 
The eyes of the great machine sits in silence 
A hum of  electric sparks 
It waits and mediates 
It bides its time 
Watching wanting 
In the long eternal night 
Unmoved unloved caring only for the wastes 
Awash in a cars  headlights splashing   
Across its 
Inhuman façades 
Autos and electric neon bars
Blood n Chrome marching parts 
Adrift in the endless night

Spring Dog and Falling Eagle

Spring Dog,
like any terrorist
I've ever not quite met,
not seen eye to eye,
nor found knowable,
nor fathomable,

Out to see the world
and form colonies
to feed his cancered Ego,

Teaches his hungry disciples
that success
goes to those who push
most resiliently.

I work against fear
we are heading for a confrontation,
where Earth must win
so Spring Dog must
inevitably
unpopulate.

Earth's journey
away from terror
and toward compassion
experiences intelligently designed success
with those who cooperatively pull
toward nutritious multicultural resonance.

Spring Dog
dismisses EarthMothers
as too weak
and poor in Spirit,

Not yet realizing
His poor in Spirit
is also Falling Eagle's
rich in cooperative MotheringNature.

Summer Otter
mediates between these ways of seeing
slippery slopes toward owning Earth
encourage Spring Dogs
to treat EarthTribes,
human 
and OtherWise,
as natural
unspirited,
secular resources,
owned domestic elements for harvesting,
property to feed
and heat
his Winter Hawk nest
of capital-infestment

Further fueling Falling Eagles
to pull full-flight 
toward more cooperative reinvestment.

Oceans Apart

gravity craves in the sky

weightless surrender -

comet reaches rock bottom


tides foam a lullaby

crested lengths wave -

ripples focus underneath


horizon lingers abreast

pain drenched capture -

currents expose lost hope


a life buoy tied to an anchor

flare soaked in life’s blood -

cess pool seizes cessation


atlantis meet nirvana

tranquility draws in the sand-

jetsam leads the way


the saviour dies dried tears

an offering’s nail to the cross -

hobgoblin mocks the journey


drift wood walks on water

parts with seven wild seas -

beach hut shelters new dreams


a lonely star fish grants company

octopus offers eight fold path -

tentacles points to serenity


shooting star recovers attraction

wings hardship and meaning -

levitation mediates sorrow


earth-wind meets fire

mermaid shares fins -

life life rescues calm voyage


07th February 2020

Taking Bare of Yourself

Taking Bare of Your Self

Reflecting on the silent moments when the Self absorbs itself
Tim is called preposterous a villain and contentious narcissist

He looks into the mirror ponders on ponds of accusations
Yet hurts no others rejects a portion of what he recovers

No aggression no hurting others no transgressions he simply
Choses to take a good honest look at the prism of his meaning

The surface surges with a splatter as he views beyond the
Grimace of distortion salvages and abandons faulty grins

In the nude he dives into the wrinkled waters of salty tears
Mediates in breathless meditation sheds weight and anger

Takes care of his truth at the bottom of uncertain sediments
Strips groundless fearsome fathom fragments and thus retrieves

Bystanders do not like that he appears to be marvelling when
He only begs to differ from others and himself before he rises

Dissents consents dissolves ambivalence does not retaliate
False censorship of crowds that cannot will not wish to see

When onlookers label in projection and throw a stone he catches
What matters to him and walks away with kindness towards himself

20th July 2018

Sidewalk Strutting

Sidewalk Strutting



She struts her stuff on salacious sidewalks
Where the midnight moon mediates her desires
With sensual strides in her high heel attire
Sleeping like a baby during the dusky day
And then she awakens with sore feet…




June.01.2018
She Walks 
Sponsored by: Julia Ward

Madmen Make Millions

Poem of “M”
 
Madmen Make Millions
 
Madmen make millions
Money mills manage the most
Mind a moody man on the moon
Meek morons miss many moths
Music mediates with mental myths
My mother mixes milk and melons
Maria Marcus must be Mrs Martin
Maymays may maze by a map
Mocked man must mourn more
Mute mode meant to be minimum
Minorities meet most mornings
Malls mean mega markets
Madmen make millions

Acrostic On My Sweet Daughter Sanmati 2

Sanmati is my angle’s name. She never
Analyses her problem without sure.
Neither does she answer anyone directly;
Mediates before speaking desperately. 
Amit is her uncle’s name. Smart is he
Though teaches him how to be.
I am proud father and Kavita her mother.
Savita is her grandmother who bother
Always for her betterment. We all
Negotiate for her better stroll
Knowing how the future world be.
Either ways are taught to be free
Truth and honesty being you see.
“Jai Jinendra” is the first word 
All we speak before tea or curd.
I am sure her grandpa Deshbhushan
Needs her help when he in tension.

Writing a Poem

A single stroke 
dispatches emptiness, 
in one ambitious line 
gives backbone to 
my limp attention. 
 
Rigid fingers tighten 
on the brush. 
The bristles slash again 
and incorruptible reality 
is neatly tailored 
to my artifice. 
 
Leaning on my arm, 
I glance behind me 
at the letters 
inching down the page. 
There's no return, 
no second chance. 
 
The brush no longer 
mediates between 
intention and accomplishment. 
It races on ahead of me, 
guided by the incidental 
pattern of its progress. 
 
Independent of endeavor, 
indifferent to what I am 
or what I hoped to be, 
it brushes my design aside 
and draws its own conclusions.


First version published in Poet, India

When It Is Winter

When It Is Winter

Whence from shine the seasons to whom and to where

High on snow peaked mountains sits the Buddha under a fir tree

Exalted warm in the glow of change and stillness he mediates

Never ending contradictions assembles frost transcends right there


In the heat of the desert Northern lights shed their guidance

To similar truth’s complementation seek meaningful sense


In abandon vast perception’s years cycle from our point of views

Swift within and without riches and scrap heaps of dissimilar hues 


When periods swell and spell interchange across planets and orbit

In constant revolution vison blind folded deceptions and ruses

No one come high tides water or drought can simply absorb it

The winter is summer as spring turns to autumn and perspective

Emerges in harmony when my lights in the South levitate from

Reclusion where wise humans freeze sweat which is highly subjective

Forgiveness

In flash of lightning on clouds' darkest tide
Christ gave light to the world -He gave His life
to forgive all our sins, He suffered…died
Exemplifying His loving deeds  for
we’re His children, in Him we must unite.
His sacrifice gave Him unrivalled sore
to make His Love reign in this world, not grudge
Hatred inflicts pains of body, mind...heart--
Spoiling one's relationship, soul is smudged.
No sadness  follows or unending war
if our contrite heart will swallow its pride
and His Holy Spirit mediates and guide.
Jettison our heart’s  hurts through forgiveness
and sail on life’s light flow with happiness.


©2015Leonora Galinta
     All Rights Reserved



Sept. 30, 2015         11.15 pm

Also inspired by a bible verse:
Ephesians 4:32

The Third Eye...

The subjective mind,
mindly eye,center point
between our physical eye's,
objective of the subjective,is to
determine the difference between
...truth and error,
trial and tribulation period 
in accordance with what's aright...
as the soul mediates the body and mind,
expanding consciousness in proper order...
object reality,is only the minds eye's interpretation,
whether developed or under developed,as
the object itself doesn't change,
it is what it is,as we learn it...

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