In May, my life turned complex
I experienced the kind of grief
that no parent wants to ever experience
but I STILL believe
It changed my life,
and changed who I am,
my faith did not change and
I STILL believe
My world broke into pieces
and it feels like God is
remaking who I am but I
STILL believe
It feels like some days last
for weeks and some days
go by at the speed of life
but I STILL believe
God has been present for me
in my grief, life, and the joy
that is slowly returning and
embraces me because I STILL believe
Materializing
memory
photos on the wall
Immortalizing
tomorrow
vision to recall
Prescience
in the offing
feelings coming home
Sentience
remaking
— that forever known
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
the home was taught
in form as passing custom
to hide is freedom
from a sight not allowed to begin
protected from cinders town
escaped to preserve brown
a coastal expanse
blinding beauty
remaking lords
from dukes and blow
grandmothers quakes
learning by instruction
how to blend
defend and die
prescribe and imbibe
adjust and join
dive and dive
destroy your remains
and bridges as news escaped home
awakenings blame
prides failing regret
astride regrets wings
bring home the pens
quill and brow
be fearful of when
you, when is your new name
The Remaking Of America
Written: by Miracle Man
6/21/2024
Each sunrise brings with it more horrid tidings,
America is now experiencing grievous change.
Seems no day passes without some rape or killing,
like livestock, illegals rush in to graze free range.
Many bring dissenting views and stated demands,
they wave their flags holding fast to former ways.
Some elected officials promote this way of thinking,
some stand around disoriented, frozen in a daze.
Many think it’s all a part of some grand scheme,
and time may come when only Government has a say.
We’re seeing the land we love destroyed from within,
the only hope we have is for Christians to pray.
One change that I notice most every day,
my freedoms are slowly being taken away.
But though they take all I have to give,
it’s the very best place on earth to live.
Tom
I'm taking back the power I had
I'm reclaiming bits of me
I'm rebuilding what once was
But this time, I'll build something stronger
I'm taking back the command I had
I'm claiming what has always been mine
I'm stacking up the confidence I had
But this time, I'll not give them a chance to have me doubt
For what made me unique was my resilience
The same resilience that got me standing
The same resilience that even when I was down
I kept moving cause I had to reach my destination
I'm taking back the determination I had
I'm remaking it to fit in this new shell
I'm making sure it's a great fit
But this time, I'll make it to my specifications
I'm taking back the strength I had
I'm recreating the battles I faced
I'm going through the storm to piece it all back
But this time, I'll stay longer in the storm so that I learn
For what made me great has waned
But I'm going back and changing that
The same person that walked into the storm
Is the same person i'm going after, cause I'm taking control
The PO£T
RETROSpPECTIVES
unfinished
&separating
now
returning
to the allure
of an
invigorating
sunburst
of colour
in memories
surfacing
becomin
complicit
involved
& questioning
dominated by
& inspired by
a setting
so incarnates s
by something haunting
&engaging
so very different
&in
lovable images
depicting
as if suggesting
a vulnerable
shyness
doubting yet
embracing
tradition
remaking
on different terms
on the waning edge of day
sunset rolls white clouds to pink and amber strands
sifting back and forth like a quilt's overlay of color
a sprawling vista
unstoppable
the quiet glide between hope and trepidation
bended sky to quell settling light
in gold, pink clouds
quill thin, like tangled trails of choice
these warm stretches of glow
drifting
into scattershot lives
sunset whittled back
as night cuts the canvas
remaking itself
ethereal
into the the soft weave of another darkness
strapped to another day
Poem composed April 1st/2023
FRENZY
imbued with
sensibility
liberated
by a
creative flowering
gloriously
austere
yet
overwhelmed
by anxiety &
doubt
to the
point of
obliteration
increasingly
remaking
an adventurousan
thing to do
displaying
new shapes
twisted
menacingly
simply
presented
&
aesthetically
significant
yet
never finished
they remain
terse &
enigmatic
endless
possibilities
as
a
poignant
epiphany
breathing
new life
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Hard and all the thoughts Stone Cold is the soul
Heart made of Stone
a spirit of the human hard as bone
must be reshapened for the lot
this body needs remaking molded at any cost
a lot of hands of God to perform CPR
allow the hands of God to remove your flesh
kiss you once again make you living witness
remake you, rename you call then His child
for the body of humanity needs a change
a new birth a new name
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Moon & Sun
David J Walker
Sleepless
nameless
The strangeness of life
Seamless
Dauntless
A man
A wife
And a child named
For the course of time
Yet to come
In the tallied sum
of giving
of taking
Of rethinking
Of remaking
The meaning of
Outcome
One child born to
Become
The moon
The other
The sun
We need to dress the world,
tear off its rags ...
We need to offer light to the gloom
rescue the human mass
who lives in the wintry ...
We need to be the sun
of the somber ...
We need to feed the dreams
of the dead figures in obscurity,
of prisoners in murks and nightmares ...
We need to format hope to
people fallen trees,
people who are infertile
in life...
Sullen would be onset of grey, indivisible-dawning;
Soon, lifting mist dissipating beneath the brae.
Comes then a gentle heat arising with the morning...
Thus the remaking of another new, glorious day.
Sun-kissed slopes now aglow with purple blaze,
Vast moorlands slowly stirring from quiet slumber;
Clamorous whaups, hanging above the veiling haze,
Burbling down to disappear into the tangled tundra.
Together, paired oystercatchers pipe in rapid flight;
Skipping wheatears explore dry-stone walls.
There, old Barjarg, aglow in Junes vibrant light,
And I awakening to the hidden otters whistling calls.
Oh! to stroll once more upon the Cree's hallowed banks
Inside the sanctuary of her jealously guarded hills.
When tramping through the myriad of dew-drenched ranks
That had across the sheep-strewn meadow spilled.
If I but could joyfully follow the meandering course,
Again, of those rocky, gurgling, opaque, amber waters.
Thoughts, such as these, that surrender to a remorse...
Nought but wistful memories that provoke to taunt us.
The blood of the forest
it's green ... consolidated
hope remains!
The blood of heaven
it's blue ... peace reigns
infinite trust ...
The river runs clear
its blood of life
and remaking ...
But, red is our
blood ... perennial sign
of our struggle ...!
I am a girl with a body made of soil. We catch falling embers of fire in our bare hands with laughter;
And later I catch your eye across the dance floor. I can't find a way to open my mouth.
I dreamt once that Aphrodite was a human soul with her arms full of lilies, and I dreamt once that you were a sun-kissed god remaking my bones into wildflowers.
Please, love, devour me.
Taking into account; the Poeter's quip
Shant it be unfurled to reveal thine
Penned and newly coined path of authorship
Paying out the Poeter’s plumb line
Veering from the course
Plotting new wave points
Carting the next rhyme before the horse
Beginning each line with the next conjoint
Taking time to proceed; and dote
Forsaking time tested ways
Remaking each verse concave and connote
Breaking the norm; within this phrase
Plucking the strings of a mental violin
That one trains to adroit and therein
Making each intellectual a rational linchpin.
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