Childhood memories
Brief - impactful moments in our lives
Profound neurological occurrences
Strongly anchored in our subconscious mind
Like an iceberg in the deep blue ocean
Immersed are the feelings frozen down below
Precipitating thoughts, emotions, and behaviors
Tragic and beautiful – inescapably manifesting as the whole
We revisit – we reflect
Moments are embellish or minimized
At times it’s hard to discern the reality
From the story we've created, a blatant lie
Our vessel carries the drink of our knowledge
Like our palettes preferred cup of tea
Perceptually we see what we want
Dogmatically we confirm what we believe
Nature has provided a framework
Nurture guides and confirms our beliefs
We see through a glass half empty
A preoccupied mind steals our life like a thief
Time provides clarity from a distance
It's easier to see our habitual patterns from afar
The identity we’ve chose to live with
Couldn’t be further from the person we are
The memories from our youth are profound and precious
They are the foundation for our thoughts and beliefs
They are the substrates for our conscious identity
They are our palettes preferred cup of tea
My soul surrenders and soars like the elegant eagle
As my mind melds of the wolves wildly witted
Experiencing mother earth thru the eye of the needle
Frolicking forests as is perceptually permitted
The eagle explores over the running raging river
Thru eagle eyes I see the rivers enchanted edge
The wolf watches his prey who quizzically quiver
For both partake in a platonic paradisal pledge
I hunger like the wandering wolf and patiently wait
And the eagle takes me to far off landscape lands
For thus I use my written words as bantering bait
Thru poetic pacification my mind masterly expands
Of the watchful wolf and the elegant eagle
Admiring art perched on the artist’s easel.
June.07.2017
SPIRIT GUIDES - Contest
Sponsored by: White Wolf
Poetry Soup Decided
What if I were eventually to respond
By writing poem with my magic wand
And as the wild wand will start to wave
I had become some sort of poetry slave.
(as the wild wand (not WANT) will start to wave)
Wrote poem after poem to my delight
About love, flowers and angels in flight
Bring forth from God another poem for me
To clearly and perceptually start to see.
My poems are a plus and a few a minus
Heard that by none other than her highness
To esteemed palace had I was now invited
Then with tap of sword would be knighted.
What a privilege all of this has been
And for sure gladly like to do it again
Poetry Soup wanted to have me sainted
After having my provocative portrait painted.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Slowly as it approached, my body began to quiver.
Finally, I became valiant and up the stairs I slivered.
Apprehension built up in me and I stood there, frozen
Why was this the school my parents have chosen
I sprinted down the aisle, catching no attention
I didn’t want to be the one everyone had to mention
The youngest; smallest, the babies of the rest
Everyone else, excited galore and surely filled with zest
After settling in my seat, waiting to finally arrive,
I reminisced about my home from which I was deprived
Distressed and on edge, I gawked out the window
As we approached, kids were as aroused as a Jindo.
The populous on the bus absconded so effectually
However, I was aghast and perceived perceptually
I skittered off the bus and admired the edifice
Here I’m at my new school, my old one I will miss.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.