Reclamation Poems - Poems about Reclamation

It’s been a long time since I’ve ventured into this new studio of mine— dust has settled like ashes on the unshelved books and the jars of brushes still packed away in boxes that intimidate me. Since I’m already here I might as well unpack one carton of my past. I slit the tape on a box labeled Miscellaneous, not knowing what I’ll find. Inside, a parrot, a toucan, some...

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They came with flags, with fire, with steel, Spoke of trade, yet came to steal. Lands once free, now marked and chained, A stranger's law, a tyrant's reign. They mapped the sky, they named the trees, Measured rivers, claimed the seas. Their words replaced the native tongue, Ancient songs left unsung. Not just land—our minds they took, Rewrote the past in gilded books. Fed us...

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My invasion Retake the cake Shifty snake Answer the bell Perpetually on the go Around the edge Of certainty’s glow Burn marks you’ll see Journey is stark Through shadows deep And fading sparks The line is drawn The path reclaimed From fractured ground I rise unchained ...

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And so it goes from cradle to grave From baby’s wail to funeral laid We reason, ponder, dissent, and cry As time repeats and years go by Sages offer their grand excuse In what’s left wanting to feed the muse But one thing’s certain to never change Death recycles — the same old game (The New Room: May, 2024) ...

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The dusty, dead strands of summer grass has resurrected into plump green clumps knee deep in the ooze of boggy ground. Now almost winter, something moves in the cold, set to reclaim the places owned by the suntanned set who paraded in the spotlight of summer's heat. A creature of shade, it has spent all summer locked away in the dark of its...

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Fleeing into solitude his excuses were lost eyes pointing inward embracing the cost Intrepidly deeper the cave to unmask as demons and angels are slayed in his path Alone and rebirthing both fury and rage a hero emerges rejecting the sage Released from self-loathing all ego begone polarity crumbling the right and the wrong From out of the lake of reflection to rise a thunder triumphant o’er truth and its lies To wander eternal in godlike...

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I know what to her is core: You with a killing horn gore And men who’d called her A Whore; Her image in The Street tore; Clothes such as she never wore Claiming: she had them, for sure … And I know what she is sure: In the heart can leave a sore, Which for years enemies bore And shall certainly, for more: Like...

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Sinister glacial dissolution verging on huge jagged icebergs reverberate nature mocking bird song sans bot mot, braggadocio, rodomontade, et cetera distinct, ear splitting, and fractal heaving snap, crackle and pop, cacophonously fabulous, incredulously humongous, and thunderously voluminous cleanly cut, and/or jaggedly serrated, sheared, situated into behemoth spears, whence huge packed floes would crash into the sea possibly loosing a...

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You don’t have to abandon previous beliefs to embrace what presents to you now As windows long open whose portals of light wrap around each new vision—enshroud Those messages ancient and all messages new interlock like the fingers of God The truth by dimension delivering you whole —new lightning reclaiming the rod (Villanova...

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How interesting can you be ? Once whole and confident Focused Intent A likely pre set present tense All my ducks in a row Ready to cluck out in militant fashion A prepubescent repetition Shallow and still Reflection and refraction The reinvention of perfection is a fruitless pursuit Decades of good intentions Mirrored by calloused intervention In a frigid current Bent, by shifting sedimentation, its...

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Fiction by Charles Just prior to the end of the civil war, there were nearly 6000 men who were not accounted for but assumed to be alive. Under truce, a secret meeting between Lee and Grant was held on no mans land, in the spring of 65. A commission was established between the two men, made...

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I heard about a rumble that erupted on the road Between the king of poverty and king of overload. A reclamation confrontation for the moral ground They laid away in apathy when truth could not be found. The kings have gathered those who mattered for a final fight, As greed is freed to bleed upon...

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crack in the pavement ...

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A LADY NAMED RECLAMATION The lady I met on a street where sweat and hostility abounds a lady who swore she'd lead me to higher grounds she wore no masks, but swore to be my reclamation and wipe away the memory of my condemnation the lady I met on a ship crossing raging seas swore she'd teach me how to pray...

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In dreams far-flung with cloudy paints I watch the sinners march as saints. The palette dimmed and turned to gray reflects the words I long to say. For memories too raw to feel and pain more than such art can heal. I'll dip into my pot of gold for circumstance thus makes me bold. Sheer tapestry beyond the fate of reason that's been forced...

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