crimping clouds ripple in reflection the day contracts as memories reseed in refection
Distant Shadows
The product
of bad choices
and decisions
Never living
in the darkness
or light
A denizen
of long
distant shadows
That serve to hide
riddles
— and orphans of sight
**
Eternity Weds
Where senses
reseed
Flowers
regrow
When lovers
remeet
Cupid
rebows
With time
giving way
And place
stepping back
Eternity
weds
To moments
— unmatched
**
9:11
9:02
and all
was well
9:05
that haunting
bell
9:08
and death
arrives
9:11
the end
— goodbye
**
The Red Zone
Creating separation
his words
forced an opening
Access had been
cleared
meaning secured
With daylight surrounding
what before
shrouded darkness
Each phrase
in the red zone
— reception assured
**
From the streets we ought to be having fun,
We run,
Not for the sun,
Or for the weather that really shun...
We suffer together,
The restrictions abound: our palaver,
Of human to fly its feather,
Around to learn how we could weather.
New testament of greed,
By the enemies of need,
Unto which obstruct reseed,
For daily needs, we voluntarily receded.
Prayers become the breakfast.
Readings glucose the lunch feast.
Sanitizers baptize the body like a priest.
Our dinners rose loneliness tempest.
Intercession is not of pain;
For it will bring an amazing gain,
Unto which we shall chain,
The deadly enemies domain.
It is of your only will,
For no human power make these still,
In his own knowledge or prowess' pill,
To save the universe from its awful gill.
Help us oh lord our God,
All has taken heed,
Yet it seems not enough to halt its prod, Redeem and do not forsake us, we plead.
Twist and turns in the environment
A world on notice
Fate has risen
Skies rearranging
Darkness over shadows daylight
Rivers and Oceans reseed
Unexpected happenings
Caught the world by surprise
Scientist worried
Scientific Data clueless
Rhetoric on despicable
Mind can’t tackle matter
Approach is a step back
Mountains crumbling from their foundation
All happening across the globe
Earth on redemption
Phenomenon for sure
The event is nothing to ignore
Ironic roar.
Anything you do
is like what you’ve done
Anything you find
is like what you’ve found
Anything you say
is like what you’ve said
Anything you dream
is like what you’ve dreamt
Wherever you roam
forever afar
Whatever you say
forever you are
Wherever you look
forever you see
Whatever you pledge
forever you mean
If ever you wander
the world at your feet
If ever you daydream
the world is complete
If ever you dance
the world is your stage
If ever you write
the world is your page
Whenever you ask
the questions reseed
Whenever you reach
the distance besieged
Whenever you wish
the future at dawn
Whenever you love
— the darkness is gone
(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)
St Oswald's church is huddled in the vale
of Grasmere. Yew trees along avenues
relinguish cones between the granite tombs
in shadows decked, their muted roots reseed
as tiny trailing fingers feel for loam
with olive tips that dip through waves of sage.
He planted seven trees where shadows grow
beneath the marbled slabs, sad stones bewail
the loss of fragile flesh; but tendrils drill through clay and claw towards the gilted sun.
The summer breeze appears to animate
the listless leaves that twist like mournful hands.
Above a steeple's cross; below the earth
where darkly Hecate conspires rebirth.
Marigolds are supposed to reseed themselves
And so they do, as do roses and other perennials
Weeds of course are notorious for reseeding themselves
I have renegade trees all over my yard too, with red berries.
No idea what they are called.
Mums go to seed, and I never know if they will come back or not.
Some have come back, others have never come back.
Some people rake away the chaff from autumn
I never do, optimistic that some of my plants will reseed themselves
I am the only person I know who sometimes sees annuals come up the next year
I attribute this to hope, optimism, and love.
In and out the cave of heart
blood flows in and out flows life
irrigating plants and mammals
feet top tree head heights
sipping food from earth and clouds
and from sun its milky light
growing beauty plants of usage
birthing seeds that fall and sprout
in perennial circle cycle
sealed with made by God Eternal
that reseed and multiply
In its labor splendid sun
spins itself with child like fun
holding hands with stars and planets
circling around their Milky Galaxy
in a sparkling wobbling dance
on a mystery far away quest
to a kingdom of pure light
where all people good and kind
ever faithful, never lying
peace in mind and joy in heart
sing their gratitude to God
Giver of all things that are
earth with majesty of mountains
liquid waters and sky with stars
food to nourish, springs to drink
and a mind with which to think
as if that seemed not enough
Himself He gave as spouse
birthing seeds of light
called Christians
ego crucified to His image
growing in love multiplying
purified with Him to rise.
Who is like unto God?
Noone is like unto God the Giver
Who is holier and greater
than the receiver.
First Place Winner: Brian Strand -All Yours-1/19/21
wood rod beats wild rice
into forked pole pushed canoe
spilled grain next year’s crop
Long Tooth
June 20, 2016
Poet's notes:
Among the American indian tribes who lived alongside the rivers, there is a tradition of harvesting the "wild rice" that grows in the meanders of the river where the water moves more slowly. You gently push your canoe into the fields of wild rice, bend the rice over the side of your canoe and beat it lightly with a 20-30 inch round wooden stick. The rice that is ripe falls into the boat and the green rice says on till it is harvested later or falls into the river to reseed the next years crop. This wild rice sells for around $100 per pound so a skilled harvester can make a lot of money doing this.
To learn more about "Wild rice" harvesting go to http://www.dnr.state.mn.us/regulations/wildrice/index.html
Bugs, spiders and an insect-free world,
Dangerous animals were gone,
Snakes disappeared,
Crocodiles, alligators, and sharks,
No longer exist,
Children could swim happy and free,
Nothing was alive that could hurt people,
Viruses colds and flu evaporated,
Sickness illness departed,
People never got the taste for animals,
Vegetables filled the earth,
Growing without planting,
Reseed like grass,
Nuts and berries ever abundant,
Pollination just happened,
A generous rich evergreen coverage,
Ready ripe succulently beautiful,
Juicy fruits sprouting everywhere,
Hanging from our houses, walls and gates,
The earth would germinate and shoot buds,
Without any help from humans,
Life would be so easy,
Even children could feed them selfs,
People would be slim and healthy,
The waters pure for drinking,
No additives or preservatives,
Or factory produced foods,
No evil could exist in people,
Our brains could only feel love.
If only I could change the world.
24/07/2016
For competition sponsor Becca Teagan
Raining acorns, plentiful supply
Trees of the forest feed
Squirrels, deer, field rats, chipmonks eat
Some are cracked and reseed
Those acorns that pour in the yard
A nuisance can truly be
Slipping hazzard, trees come up galore
But the shade of that tree
Shade that cools a larg area
On those hot summer days
Thanks should be spoken for that gift
And for a place to play
Good and bad in everything
From nature to mankind
Let me be thankful for the good
And the bad not to mind
In our hands has come the power
to make deserts bloom in shades
yet, to grow within we need aide.
Much alike are we, all flower.
The leaf which draws like fingered hands
the field, and mountain make demands.
We must mend all, we've devoured.
The sea's cry with hurricanes
'clean cut' mount's with acid disdain,
reseed the planet that we have scoured
with strong hands and hearts, our true task
refill our gifted and earthly cask.
In our hands, God gave the power
to fulfill this great holy geas
if we are to be what's to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In our hands has come the power
much alike are we, all flower,
we must mend all, we've devoured,
reseed the planet that we have scoured
in our hands, God gave the power.
I don’t know
where dreams go..
Maybe they take form in the sky
a genesis of nothing but cloud castles,
building subdivision into an eternity
where no one’s ever home.
Or maybe the winds drift them through time,
lazily pacing histories progress
searching to reseed on fertile ground.
Thistledown dreams.
Some of them might
be that kind.
Like the prayers whispered through battered lips
where the fight for freedom
blood lets on the ground of reason
for what the bible was reputed to have said.
Prayers for Acceptance,
Peace,
Love
and Wholeness.
Prayers for freedom
wave flags to the breezes
that blow on by,
looking for that fertile ground
that we have yet
to prepare.
I don’t know
where dreams go..
But I want my field ready
my mind open
my heart warm.
I want the dreams of my people
of all my relations
to have a place to be..
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