Sponsor Brian Strand Contest Name RHYME LINE 20/9/25
_________________________________________________________________
Title : Reverse
Verse in sweet notes, immerse.
Immerse notes, sweet in verse.
(“Corpus Callosum”, 2017, original encaustic)
Reverse Osmosis of Life
It’s a two way street
The way reality exists
Divided into truth on one side
And illusion’s delusions the other,
And yet the most fascinating aspect
Is the membrane that exists between the two
A membrane of I don’t know what,
But which I’m sure the ancients had a name for,
Which divides, insulates and yet connects
And filters through cosmic osmosis
The personal and transpersonal,
Or you could say the mortal and immortal.
Sometimes I can feel the membrane at work
Seeing it even just beyond the limits of my mind’s eye
Knowing what it’s doing
As it transpires
Because I am in fact on both sides simultaneously
At least to some degree.
Everything after all is an extension
And expression of Life,
You, me, us,
In whatever forms it finds us
From refined and subtle to coarse and gross.
The other night I dreamt of being a bridge
Not a figurative one, but literally
An object with girders and cross members
Able to span a stream or gully.
It didn’t surprise me, just intrigue me
That the creative nature of the Mind
Is what it is
And in fact, is all there is.
(8/18/25)
Readings on the rise i beleive..In twentytwenty
Five.' More demand for books; reads well to
Me.' May it auger well for society.' I guess Richatd Vobes, will be heartened by this vibe
Long may, all collateral fallout, continue to
Thrive..Let Bibles be bought, to be studied at
Length, that Nations be enriched by their
Diverse appeal to each humans sense.' May
Each message be taken deep.' May they light
Every day.' And refresh each students sleep.'
May admonishnent and encouragement build
A new body of Christ.' Where Gods spell and
His promises, triumph over vice.' Let minds
And bodys live in His One True Love.' As we
Await each challenge.' He observes from near
And above.' Now is the moment.!!! There are
Many to save.' Those who have been brought
To your shores.' Who for the Truth also crave
I see it not as an invasion, yet a harvest to
Reap..May the Word go out to them.' May they
Take it in deep.' They have been brought from
The four corners of the globe.' Be awake and
See.. Now go forth.' And be busy.' God will bring Victory.!!!
What's true for you
even if it is insanity
may not be the same for me
as we each have our own reality
'There's two sides to every coin'
some are said to say
'But what about the edge,
when one is on display,
showing tails and the obverse?'
as a numismatist I insist
even a mirror reflects the reverse
yet when confronted with a conundrum
maybe at least you and me
will resolve the knotty quandary
with compromise and both agree to disagree
Four Square
electrostatic dimming of sunlight
mellisonant quickening
lightning playing four square
study quadrants on screen
kingdom come of a rainstorm
that merely whispers an awakening
“Reverse Cyrano”
Reverse Cyrano
new wave poetry
straddles the ruins
milked
with two sugars
dark Tea dreams
red leaves laquer
the vain roadmaps
that stain the ingrained
with pommegranate poetry
the bejewelled heart
sweet and tart
and thick
skinned
sliced and skewered
each granate
a sparkling
hidden gem
within the ruby
words written
riding astride those worlds
like wolves
in those comforting
dicomforting whispering woods
for Cyrano reversed
so easily contracted
a hidden god and a poet
that lost lovers
may find submerged
in disoriented time adrift,
eyes open-wide undestracted,
the ravenous misunderstood unmissed.
Candide Diderot ‘25
I have given up
So I can never say
I gave it my all
The only thing I can admit was
The weight of failures held me down
No one can convince me that
There is always a reason to keep trying
Because when the sun starts to rise
The darkness remains
I refuse to believe that
There is hope for me
So I always remember
pain is permanent
And I can't trust the fact that
I can amount to something
Because when I compare myself to others, I always think
Have I been wrong all along?
(Now read bottom up)
She hurt me
So don’t try to convince me that
She was a genuine friend
Because at the end of the day
my heart twists in anguish
And I’m not going to sugar coat it,
I’m the one that cut her off
I have to remind myself,
No one can be trusted
And nothing you say will make me believe
Everyone deserves a second chance
Because no matter what
People will always let me down
And I'm in no position to believe that
if I extend my trust it won’t be broken
Because whenever I want to make friends I think
Is friendship even worth it?
(Now read it backwards)
This Dame no longer believes in luck
even my existence doesn’t make it real
I’m the spitting image of prosperity
still she doesn’t believe.. not at all
sitting here wishing for another time
another day another melancholy face
what turned your brandy bitter
what turned all those dreams sober
eyes that would always roll the dice
that inner light has become so dim
an ace card thrown one too many times
whenever you recite a hard luck rhyme
but you gotta feel it in your bones
As Sinatra said ‘Luck be a lady tonight.’
The real Robin Hood took from the rich to give to the poor
That tail is for sure
Our Modern Day, Robin Hood straight from Washington, DC White House from the poor giving to the rich
There no enchanted forest, but a person who thinks he is a king of the United States
Robin Hood gave to the poor
Robin Hood reversed in some form and fashion to take away
Negativity all around
Poor neglected and the rich are found
The White House Robin Hood wants the poor to “Don’t have”
The Rich to continue to have and prosper over the poor
It’s amazing how the tale Robin Hood showed appreciation for mankind and being genuine
Today’s Robin Hood being Self-Centered, and shows no concern for humanity being the poor
The wonder of a story tale back then with no comparison today if you want to say the name Robin Hood
Amazing how Robin Hood before to would you believe it today.
Glitter and misery on the dance floor
a locked pop remix of ‘Hallelujah’
holding a glowing lantern on lux life
yet it’s a frozen priceless kind of art
devoid of soul or any gentle touch
so structured a sway will intoxicate
you get lost inside of a perfect form
as soon as you give in to emotion
maybe you go higher maybe you sink
all that matters is authenticity
feather boas and snarky silhouettes
A dance floor sparkles with disdain
Such a harsh gelid sprechgesang
filled with such soprano snowflakes
bitter whistling but so very beautiful
melodies change with the temperature
emotions fall and form a blizzard
the wind’s echo is never too sharp
a masque for a glittery wonderland
eyelashes made electric with silver
backup singers for an icy smile
knives sharpen themselves on the air
putting an end to the reticence
seasonal recluse finally set free
that first scent sparks out of control
swerving all over on black ice
lips on fire at the thought of danger
flushed with the breath of condensation
the stutters and chatters have eased
wrapped in this quilted blanket
an unequivocal need to cover up
Sprechgesang, so hard and gelid
Let yourself fall out of that trance..
there’s no wrong way to cast magick
Poppet, we can’t lose all we’ve known
for more than a millennium
a ritual will mirror just one thing
the heart and intention of the spell
there’s no reason for a talisman
unless you can understand it’s rhythm
keep your invocation benevolent
lest the threefold rule apply
gold must live in the undertow
Abracadabra, sparkle, and flow
fifty cent words you have to look up
some will see the craziest cat lady
some see a Witch and her tambourine
your vision is your perception
sharp focus drawn out by intention
daily outcome swayed by emotion
let yourself fall out of that trance
Poppet I give to you this offering..
The reflection in the water of the woman
Was not pleasing; even to herself she looked
Hard.
Frown marks were etched deep; two lacerations
Between her black unruly brows.
Thin lips clamped together in a downward Arc
Showed her disappointment in life; her dissatisfaction.
She didn’t want to go on; She didn’t want to go home.
Her reflection said “I bet you haven’t got the guts to get in like Ophelia did.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed; she actually hated her reflection.
She took off her green shawl and lay it neatly on the green grass beside the still pond.
The unhappy woman stepped into the pond;
She sunk slowly down through her own reflection.
She had fallen for her own reverse psychology.
And now she is no more.
don’t ask me not to
to try and get me to do
I can see right through
clearly a catch twenty two
oh my that negligée’s new
Related Poems