No Anchor for Rancor
Wounded the ship of my soul,
With tattered sails,
Heels up in malevolence,
Venom puffs out the jib
In leeward grudges of tactless spite
On a pointless reach
Heading up into retaliation.
Heart hardened sends out a deep tap root,
Like a dagger board,
For my blustering hubris
To drop an anchor and moor animosity
In a portage of perpetual whirlwinds
With undertows of enmity
Crashing about in irons of spite.
Yet steady winds rise up
And I must come about
Heading into prevailing winds
Then journey through hubris doldrums,
Sails filled fresh with newborn winds,
Orphaning rancor - breathing in forgiveness -
Sailing beneath full sails of resurrection
The rocks on the sea bed
Can be friendly in storms
When our sails are bedraggled
Or all tattered and torn
From our voyage on seas
Often left unexplored
But there's truth in the water
That cannot be ignored
In the wind is the Spirit
An adventurer's friend
So we move in directions
To where searching may end
There are hazards aplenty
As the salty air calls
There's that taste for adventure
But another taste galls..
We'd fare well to remember
Not all rocks help to save us
When we cast out our anchor
Catching bitterness flavours
Where the water is stagnant
And the wind but a tease
Hopeful canvas restored
Needing more than a breeze
Then it's time to resolve
Pull umbilical chain
Begin a fresh outlook
Let the rancour remain
When the lights of evening dusk have eluded me long enough
I shall not walk through the hallways of death
with resentment at my side
nor shall I hold any grudges against my fiends and
family members
When the sun in faded gold retrieves above the ocean
I shan't use force to make it stay, I will let it go
and if the good Lord hulls me in like he did
with Peter, I will not anchor my ship in deep waters of rancor,
for I know that for every dying sunset there is a brand new sunrise.
I won't waste time on pity nor greed,
I will happily be hulled
and when I'm finally finished cruising the world,
I will let go of that mast that I have grown so fond of,
and join the seagulls in the sky.
I can this say about Rancor:
Not where Lord God’s Heaven anchor.
Self have I flung at blind squabble
And home returned with fat trouble!
My forgiveness tradition bent;
The implacable one for rent…
We stop living when dead angry
The blood-thirsty for Red hungry
“Pay J shall his mortuary bill
And corpse cross intervening hill!”
But what of Heaven’s Gate Saints cross?
If you don’t, it is a great loss.
Unbelievable rancor!
Crazed jumping monkeys
were directing hard xylocarps
at several frightened zoo patrons!!
Outgoing battle lovers
vehemently yelled nonsense
inciting giddy kids
to quickly exit!!!
Monday, November 8
Alphabet Soup Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Reductive and straight face.
Rage makes things even worse.
Revolting memories.
Recalled in a snide way.
Ruin a healthy bond.
Rough stark uses harsh taunt.
Razed venom of racism.
Written April 16, 2021
Pleiades R Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Merryman
I see nothing but pink plume and ink
In the lofty canopy above
The roof is raised with mist
And rust in my eyes
and the old wreck of souls
Shouting Jazz melodies like tricks
The way this porch was raised
by Summer Sweat-Backs
Anticipating the eager tide
Of the long lost labour
of Coast Mainline Harbour poles
Broken Nets untied and umkempt
My Masterpiece belongs
at Sea
A Ship sent to Eternity
"The Constant Work of Man"
Sorrowed to Travail
Being fished by the Whale
With Jonah's reticence
I bemoan Nineveh's wailing tides
And grow with the Sand
Dali came to me once
in the repose of Dream
With unexpected charm
Amidst reliquary code:
Growing up and away the hoop
The tree anchored to my soul
Had Been Lifted
Should tardy relief take full years more
To grace fallen visages with angst taut,
Let kind nature her multiplied joys hone,
And gild final grins past art's fickle fault.
May saddest souls that now fret most
Gleam with heaven's grandest succor,
No more numbed by fear's fake ghost;
Free from inky mists and bleak rancor.
The gloomiest of hearts down with care
Shall glitter under jubilation's final glare,
And forget prickly sorrow's ghastly pain;
Wholly unafraid of shame's broken train.
He'll his victorious head at last carry high
After blacking ignominies and stigmas go;
None shall Art's virgin blossoms blight so,
Killing fresh dreams whose sign inch nigh.
This star-crossed champ at last shall reign,
And his chafing fan her dead cheers regain.
The hope for love,
O my heart--
share it.
The plan for peace,
O my mind--
strive for.
And, happiness
O my soul--
yearn for.
The hate you give,
Oh, comes back
twofold.
For happiness
love and peace,
Let's pray:
The God above
make mankind
hate free.
~10/14/18
~Charlieku 4-3-2 Haiku contest
Sponsor: Charles messina
Genghis Khan was born,
Gripping a blood clot in hand.
But Love Child more bold,
And if I can say more cold,
Grasped I.U.D. dripping blood.
My heart falls like rain
At the sound of your name
Tears of sadness fall softly from my face
Where tears of joy used to be placed
I can’t stand the feeling of losing you
I no longer fathom what I can do
Your love was what I used to sing
Now at the sound of your name my ears ring
It’s hard for me to find a smile to wear
When every time I turn around you’re no longer there
My skin feels lost without your touch
At times the sadness becomes too much
I miss all the dreams of which we used to speak
Now the thought of us makes my knees go weak
I can’t believe I thought all you said was true
I would’ve given up everything just to be with you
Everything must run its course so I’ll simply have to wait
For you to see all you’ve left behind; I just hope it’s not too late
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