Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient
temple
Perched across a bay, weeds and
hyacinths curl between my feet,
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
for a world which aches for calmer
retreat--
That I reach a peak where the mind
becomes absent--
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong
rhythms,
A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant
fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient
energy
Cleanses my beingness from past sins -- mortal and venial-
That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:
Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of
innocent laughter...a treble,
a clap
bringing me to the kindness of youth,
And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of
passage on days when the spirit calls for an
interlude's break...a meditative
connection with
the self--
without the need to speak.
Better things are on the way.
This goal comes from the heart.
It depends straightforward of your array.
Utter how genuine the sparks are to impart.
Evoke positive remarks over the life tray.
Believe you will reach a peak; be smart.
Bestow blessings at home every day.
Relish your day's blessings not being apart.
Note how your bones crack and decay.
Every day, the sun rises as the day starts.
Assist people grieving with little sway.
Rays dazzle with dazzling praise and darts.
Always strain to forecast for the coming day.
A stern warning of the following song's art
This planet will surely sing and play.
Accept slight setbacks, don't throw hope chart.
Written: December 2nd, 2022
My Home
An era where I spent my time at Home
when I knew youth and spent it with my folks
who labored to present me in the world
and nutured me to giant step without fear
but through it all they garnished me with love
our furniture was leather bound and strong
I likened it to the time that I grew bold
to reach a peak in life where I extolled
and then we met one day and shared our love
as if to say by magic she appeared
a metamorpohisis and then we changed
like nomads of lore we traveled the lands
and never a place to call our domain
a Home I knew that may longer be
but home is in my heart when you’re with me
My Home Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Lu Loo
August 13, 2019
Mothers Day
The second Sunday every May
I think of someone I hold dear
She made me what I am today
A day of tribute to her life
I think of someone I hold dear
Despite the time she was in pain
She cared for me through sun and rain
but there was fun and candy bars
She made me what I am today
To reach a peak that I desired
And make her proud of me once more
To carry on no matter what
A day of tribute to her life
To all the mothers who knew strife
And pledged their life to all their kin
Remember Mom on Mothers Day
©Ralph Sergi
Did you soften the rocks under our feet?
Create a breeze to lessen the heat?
To help us reach a peak way up in the sky.
Did you want your mother nearby?
Did you drop a white feather to show you were near?
Loving stories told of your life - did you hear?
We followed your mother's courageous tracks
Could we carry the weight of her grief on our backs?
Did you pull us all up to see what you see?
A world so open, where spirits fly free
At such a great height with a breathtaking view
Your mum's searching eyes only saw you.
At she turned to descend, head held with such poise
Did we hear you laughing with other small boys?
With them, we hoped you turned away first
Goodbyes and I-love-you's, gently dispersed
And though those peaks will be climbed by so many
That mountain will always be yours, sweetest Benny.
quiet times while lost in deep syes,imagination
forces me to wonder off with waves of an ocean.
will I ever see you again? never thought the stories
we read together would come to "the end" even though chapters
are as long as years , I've lost you within the blink of
a moment.
where do I go from here when trust is now excluded
from the mathematical equation?
I once gave you my sacrifices. I once gave you my heart
and then I once believed you was the woman for all along
that I was waiting.
moving on feels like moving mountains.
for you I was willing to reach a peak but with her,
ice caps always became a waters fountain.
Mothers Day
The second Sunday every May
I think of someone I hold dear
She made me what I am today
A day of tribute to her life
I think of someone I hold dear
Despite the time she was in pain
She cared for me through sun and rain
but there was fun and candy bars
She made me what I am today
To reach a peak I that I strove for
And make her proud of me once more
To carry on no matter what
A day of tribute to her life
To all the mothers who knew strife
And pledged their life to all their kin
Remember Mom on Mothers Day
Shall We Retourne Contest
Debbi Guzzi October 18, 2015
LISTEN TO PAUL'S PLEA
"I will pay it back, not to mention that you owe me your very self." Philemon 19
What do I owe,
So many are in line.
My country first,
Or neighbors who are mine?
Perhaps my family only,
Deserves my debt.
Maybe friends do not matter,
My mind will not be set.
An obligation is a virtue,
Or perhaps it is a vice.
It tasks the soul to answer,
A solution would be nice.
Man owes more than service,
His fortune and his gold.
To the God who gave him life,
He owes his very soul.
We are under solemn promise,
To those whom we love.
We are brought together,
By Our Father up above.
We gather debt in life,
For the many things we seek.
Not required for well being,
Our wants never reach a peak.
We then owe more,
Than we can repay.
Stress and trials in our life,
Until another day.
If obligations must control,
Our life every day.
Let it be to our God,
Get on our knees and pray.
RAYMOND V. MORGAN
thank you Robert Hinshaw for the encouragement.
Bad Dreams
To write another poem, I now do propose
But how long before the words decompose
And maybe my style be required to change
Being that current one seems so strange.
If I am to be a Master Poet and Planner
How long and wide must be my banner
And much tanner I may have to be
When I wore a bikini to see most of me.
How about numbers game we should be playing
In our poems, you and my age start displaying
And when is it required that you be an antique?
Before your poems stand out and reach a peak.
Finally:
Read my poems, people will cease, desist and dread,
Caused bad dreams when they were asleep in bed.
He swims in a dreamy,
sluggish, swirling world
that seems to precede
all that there has been
in all his waking hours.
There, only the memory
of her ever trusting face
guides him and sees him
throughout the random
flux of all there will be.
In the void of the unknown
his own deep-seated fears
soar high, reach a peak,
echo as a scared shriek,
fading off as mute panic.
He wakes up at the touch
of soft fingers on his cheek.
Her whisper assures him.
Ashamed, he hides his face
in the warmth of her embrace.
.
I am strong, but around you I get weak,
Whenever my heart starts to beat too fast,
After remembering a lonely past,
Or whenever my eyes begin to leak.
When part of me begins to reach a peak,
I try to hide the rising of the mast,
Before the measurement becomes too vast.
A measurement, of which, I can not speak.
When around you, I lose complete control
Of all of the functions that I hold dear.
Your pressence seems to only play one role,
Like kryptonite, whenever you are near.
Because the thought of you starts to console,
I accept it without a sense of fear.
Morning sunbeam the tinge of yellow daisies
awakens the sleepy, frosted
window pane.
Last night, in the core of darkness,
hysterical, I struggled to break through
an unbreakable, invisible membrane.
In a suffocating bubble of a nightmare
my own scream seemed to soar
to reach a peak.
It echoed as a terrified falsetto,
fading off, trailing away as my own
muted panic.
I swam through a sluggish, swirling world
that seems to precede all there is
in my waking hours.
The whirling memory of your trusting face
saw me through the aimless random flux
of the unknowable.
Now, I wake up to the touch
of your hand on my face, your whisper,
the warmth of your embrace!
I swim through a dream
in a sluggish swirling world
that seems to precede
all there is in my waking hours,
and where only the whirling
memory of your trusting face
seems to somehow see me
through the slow motion
of aimless, random flux
of the unknown, the unknowable,
and my own scream seems
throughout to reach a peak,
echoing as a fearful falsetto,
fading off as a muted panic.
Morning sunbeam the tinge
of yellow daisies awakens
the cold window pane, yet
I still recall that in the darkest
sanctum of a jet-black night,
hysterically I struggled to break
through an unbreakable,
invisible membrane
of a suffocating bubble
in a most terrifying nightmare,
but I woke up at the soft touch
of a tender hand on my face,
yes, your whisper, and now,
the warmth of your embrace !
It’s the end of the year
Tings are coming to a wrap
So I decided it’s not time to hold anything back
I never saw myself telling you this
So Ima just get it over and done with
Every now and then I gaze at you on the low
I do it at the most random time so no will know
I make you hit me just to feel your touch
And just recently my feelings for you expanded so much
I make dumb comments to have a reason to talk to you
I tried to make my childish games a clue to you
Who would a thought my emotions would reach a peak this high
And being your kind of my friend is probably the reason why
Bottom line is I like you and that’s a fact
Just thought you should you know
You aint gotta like me back
-Omar Whittington #4