Today’s a date you can’t forget,
When evil had its way.
To all responders, there’s a debt
We never can repay.
The world may mourn, but locals feel
A different kind of grief.
For here the shock was all too real;
We watched in disbelief.
For months we read the flyers
Of the missing and we woke
To the smell of all the fires,
Sadness mingling with the smoke.
In the classrooms, they’ll be teaching
Versions of that day’s events,
But, for most, it won’t be reaching
What that horror represents.
Abattoir, thy cover black:
Written in red blood:
Spells within thy fabled stack?
Mud, become a flood.
Now to brew some trouble, sirs!
Grab some land up high!
Mother Entropy murmurs!
Chaos, keeping dry?
Unleash the primal forces!
O rivers, running red?
Looking dark in our sources!
Humanity, bed!
Tympani, tornado.
Quahog clam, pie of quince.
Groundhog, shadow? Even so.
Four leaf clover mints.
Raspberry bush, hollyhock.
Gather well, honeybee.
Belladonna, blighted balk.
Vile the vintage, flea.
Schedule, on the third weekday.
Doom and disarray.
Debts cyclopean, repay.
Help them lose their way.
Dismay, dismantling. Starling:
Mournfully sheep sing.
Monsters love. To altar bring.
Machine, maddening...
Sting of sadness, great is grief.
Strong beyond belief!
Lawyer, judge, thy legal brief?
Coral, build a reef.
In the arms of a lover's dream
The sensual grace, up close to your smoothe face
Maybe to never to know the truth to my obsession
A home-boy,who loved his mother
Like a scene from some love story
I melt,I wonder, it gives me all the peace I need
I am in love, but it's like dry wrought in the brain
I am not making out in the back seat
Why does that feeling have to sing in my face
All the king's men and his women
Couldn't drag me away from
I live for that feeling
You give me
Please let me repay
I'll wait it out. Paranoia go away.
Now where was I?
Ah here we go..
I could kiss the stars as each one gleams.
Catching my attention, whilst way up in the sky.
If I could just reach high enough, I'd wrap my arms around the moon.
I could never repay you for all you've done.
Thankful I can see you in the birds as they fly by.
Notice you in the butterflies, fluttering in circles.
The bees in the garden, while they wear sunflowers for a dress.
Dandelions are meant to be wished on.
As it scatters, seeds find a new place to rest.
The rain from the sky washes me clean, as my own tears become nysnc with the sounds of such water falling.
The wonders of everyday life. I come to realize as I write.
All candles tall and short,
Whether stout or very slim,
Do but always impart
Light, which is never ever dim.
Watch the roses grow,
They don’t mind the thorns.
Seen the lotus glow,
Ne’er the slush it scorns.
So too must we shine,
In our own little way,
For in God’s own time
Our actions will repay.
Ne’er be disheartened,
If your contributions seem small.
As burdens are lightened,
By the sincere efforts of all!
Copyright © by Crystal David John
“To be or not to be”, was Hamlet‘s sole question.
We’ve a common conundrum, that’s my confession.
Burn bridges or mend fences, in my discretion…
I stand above them, pistol heavy in my hand.
They cringe before me, she’s sobbing and he’s unmanned.
My mind’s really roiling, though my expression’s bland…
She surely did me wrong, there’s truly no dispute,
In flagrante delicto, they cannot refute.
Leaves me such a dilemma, achingly acute…
The Lord tells us “Vengeance is mine, I will repay!”
Also “to forgive is divine” didn’t he say?
How is a mere mortal to decide the right way…
But wait! “Nature weeps”, a pathetic fallacy
As “either or” is just a false dichotomy
In reality both are merely sophistry…
Should I mend the fence? Overly optimistic.
Should I burn the bridge? Aptly apocalyptic.
There is another choice, neatly nihilistic…
My attention was caught, resolution was sought.
The decision was fraught, it’s a Gordian knot
Hamlet’s vexing question solved with a single shot…
New intent nicely teased, and tension slightly eased.
My mind now appeased, prior predicament ceased
With resolve swiftly pleased - the trigger slowly squeezed…
i was imagining the lighthouse
on our East Coast. remembering it
through clouds, past the shady thicket,
above the cliff defaced by the dissident Atlantic;
out of the vegetative sprawl—
cooling mosses & menacing colossi
of agave plants—was your cold ivory
marred by weathering,
unconstrained saline breezes
chewing & bleeding your iron.
i pondered a rebuke.
where are the carers
for this lost gem of hope,
to repay former kindnesses
as time races away with the picture
of your boast, vessels
& vagabonds who'd have fallen
over inauspicious tides
without your sleepless eye?
nature's guardians
born with good traits and perform
cleaning and killing
crows real intellects
blessed with face recognition
leave gifts and repay
Nature is beautiful,
Makes you feel welcome.
Out of all the things in life,
We feel the nature's grace,
We welcome it like the wind.
Flying through the sky.
Nature is all we need,
Love is a part of nature
We respect it
Our ancestors did before us too
The sky is blue, filled with most beautiful nature
It sours through the wind like a bird
Makes it seem good
I love it
Natures grace helped me with life
Now I repay my mother of life
My dear people know nature's grace
I know too
Love is the key to the door
Until we open it, we will not be able
To access the room of wonders.
Waiting patiently.
A scavenger was invited to
The land of preservation
The breath of life
Gave him shelter and food.
Alongside his peers,
The fortress of beasts
Shielded him from the elements—
Stepping outside to
Repay their benevolence.
This scavenger returns,
Looking for an answer...
To the grass trampled underfoot,
Leaves plucked without thought,
Fruits are severed from branches.
How is it possible that
Those who came to this world first—
Let us,
The ones who only take
Still upright among them?
The serenity that comes,
As if spread over eternity—
Is all I need to hear...
A blessing for us is
A price they've paid to stay.
No sentinel leaves his fortress
in a sudden attack and lets
his enemies own it,
no devoted soldier, who has
sworn loyalty to his country,
is afraid and runs away:
be it day or night;
be it dark or light!
Live your full purpose,
be inspiring, uplift others,
they will repay you in kind;
any life can be cut short,
who hasn't known moments
passionately wild?
Who hasn't questioned
his doubtful heart?
I have questioned myself
if I was worthy of shame,
or of a praise not given;
I'll be judged according to my deeds!
No need to plant new seeds
to be acclaimed or forgiven;
no need to feel sorry for myself.!
Live your full purpose,
honor what you chose;
you'll be remembered at death:
finaly rest under a holly wreath!
By Phan Tan Hai
Raising the cup—lips already warm,
the tongue still tingling as we laugh and go.
Tomorrow’s winds may rage—what of it?
Hair once green now silver, we wager life and fate.
I wander through mountains, my brow touched by green peaks;
in every distant city, clouds still drift.
Under the moon I laugh and ask—tell me,
does blood tonight carry the fragrance of wine?
Tilting the cup, the wine spills down my hand;
drunk, I repay a thousand wild waves
for the childhood days they stole.
Laughing aloud, I ask—are you drunk yet?
I am drunk for a thousand lifetimes
on the shore between life and death.
Roaming through this dusty, mistaken world,
our oath-wine mixed with blood beneath the moon.
At midnight I call the mountains and rivers to rise—
the celestial steed returns, hooves ringing in moonlight.
T'is sunny outside
I shiver and shake
So much at stake
I'm hit, broadside
In virtue, my gain
Karma to repay
A coin for pain
One level up, say?
Body infirm
Mind at peace
Spirit confirm
Upstream to seize
By Phan Tan Hai
Awake, waiting for the new year—
the wind steeped in tea’s fragrance;
past midnight, hair turned white,
a lifetime nearly gone.
I write upon the page
the ancient words of Scripture,
inviting you to read again,
to take a step across the shore.
Life is very short—
today we laugh and speak,
tomorrow we are ash and dust,
scattered by the wind across the sky.
To repay our parents’ grace,
nothing surpasses practice:
seeing Buddha in each flower,
smiling the smile of eternity.
Poems and prose—fine garments,
reflections in a mirror;
carriages, silks, and paintings—
all shimmering illusions.
Wine, beauty, pleasures—
leave them behind, my dear;
a wanderer’s life
passes like dust across the threshold.
Sit down with me,
soften your heart,
search within your breath
for spring’s silent fragrance.
Let go, my dear—
past and future both;
the Buddha teaches liberation
is found in this very moment.
Clumsily, I sketch
the wondrous mind of Nirva?a—
an endless spring,
where every day is spring.
--- Written in the first days of 2020
I am not the only settler
who cannot repay his wealth.
I’ve been looking for confusion,
to flout, again.
Take me forward
to the timeless
left.
I love you, through opposites,
Lord Huron.
‘Take Me Back to the Night
We Met,"
Take me forward
to the time
we left.
Which of these is backwards?
Which of these is forwards?
Fiction/nonfiction
Am I exiting?
Am I entering?
Am I timing this reading?
Am I wondering this reason?
Am I finally… in/out
and all about?
Is there reasonable
clout in heaven?
James Barrie, please
whisper to me:
‘This is Neverland!’
Then let me,
believe you.
Find a signed copy after,
and label it:
“Nonfiction!”
“Alice?
Are we home?
-unknown”
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