Reverts Poems

Love Is

Love is …

Love is a gamble, love hurts
If only the pain was something that reverts 
Love is testing not always kind 
Love  can lead us all to be blind 
Love is  painful, love is unfair 
Love can expose you and lay you bare 
Love can go one or two ways 
For some Love is just a phase 
Love is tiring it can leave you drained 
Love is something that sometimes can't be explained 
Love is often  uncontrollable
It can sometimes leave you  feeling inconsolable 
But wait….
Love is happiness, love is joy 
Love  can leave you feeling coy 
Love is magical , love is true 
I know because i've felt that too 
Love is powerful, it can be uplifting 
It can feel like your always drifting 
Love is simple, yet so complicated
It can give you a rush or leave you completely deflated 
Love is a double sharp edged blade 
Be careful with whom your heart you trade.

Through My Eyes of China Blue

Sun now rising in the east
renews its vows with mother earth.
It's rays regenerating life
dark of night so selfishly stole.

As I absorb its warming rays
my mind reverts to you.
Like the sun, you made my darkest hours
turn into just a memory.
Bringing warmth where once
cold roamed freely through my soul.

Tears I once shed are now
like crystals flowing from a chandelier.
Reflecting every hue of a rainbow
passing through my eyes of china blue.
No longer the words "I love you"
seem meaningless coming from my lips.

You have shown me there is warmth in my heart.
Feelings once trapped deep within me,
with no portal to escape, are now released
from their cold, lifeless existence.


You've made my heart, my mind, my whole being,
rise as if a Phoenix from a dark dreaded sleep.
Like that sun rising in the East,
you have renewed my life again.

Talked Out of a Poem

I am muse-walking,
~~ writing a poem.
The phone rings -

it’s my pal.

Something my mouth says
makes us both laugh.

At the same time,
one of my hands
is searching for the image
I was just about to find,
before the cell phone fractured it.

"Yea come over I’m doing nothing."

I am almost touching a black cat
in a dark room,
almost see it evaporating
on the threshold of nowhere.

We exchange ‘see-yer’ lingo.

Alone again,
my mind reverts to being
a heat-seeking sea anemone.

Sadly, the unfinished poem
has turned into a small owl,
perched on a thin tree
in the Andes.

The Watchers

They stay in the background
 stating a useless union still self-centered
 powerless, ill-prepared, inept entity of promises,
 the verbiage of false hopes with all the dos and donts,

watching, waiting, predicting, and anticipating
 another's demise into servitude rationalized
 with lie and innuendo, pseudo promises, outright lie,
 treaties made never intended to be kept;

an envious and jealous desire of possession 
 over control, land and people, ever transitory
 it never seems to end, forgetful of history's lessons
 never once learning the realities of truth;

self-indulgent arrogance and ignorance
 internal self-gratification to be more
 bound by useless rhetoric and threat
 and the human race reverts ever backward;

how long do we watch from distant shores?
 as humanity fades into the past aggressions
 back to the dust and earth in regression
 of time in restart?

First Things First

First things first, as we age, bliss bubbles burst
With flow of life flirt, free of desires erst
Essence of presence, vibrant innocence 
Carefree dance, waits not for a second chance
On our heart hangs a warning: joy alert

Ego urge reversed, no fears to avert
To divine love and light, our soul reverts 
Cognisance of inner luminescence 
First things first

Be it need or greed, we retain one thirst
May bliss magnetism continue to spurt
Nestled in silence, tuned to loves cadence
Divine entwined parlance, our indulgence 
Agendaless joy, with each breath assert
First things first

08-July-2021

The Last Dance Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish

A Strain To Be Civil Now

We used to be able to speak of children, gardens, quilts, our mutual relatives.
Now my sister has her identity all wrapped up in a political commentary.
She is totally immersed in the side of the Anti-Christ, brain-washed.
Which I could abide, if she did not persist upon trying to convert me.

I will never go to the dark side; I don’t even like the other candidate.
I recognize evil when I feel it. This political stuff has strained us.
Our relationship may never be the same; I feel it is the Civil War now.
Brother against brother, sister against sister. I try to speak of quilting.

Quilting is her “thing”. My things are poetry, cartooning and painting.
I desperately speak of these creative areas, but she reverts to politics.
Every conversation an attempt to persuade me, convert me to her way.
This is something I do not understand; it is a strain to be civil now.

Tempus Fugit

Does anyone else have the feeling
That life is escaping too fast
That passing of time leaves you reeling
As present reverts to the past?

A blink, and the baby is crawling
Then walking to school on his own
Too soon university's calling
And full independence is sown.

For time cannot stall in its travels
And yes, we should treasure what's gone,
But shape as each new day unravels
Fresh memories that will live on.

11.11.20

( My son turns 30 this month!)

The Mermaid

The bog cotton hisses in concert with the curlews bubbling wail.
The salt air stirs the marram grass, the sand sedge and sea kale.
Alone she walks in beauty 'neath the dappled harvest moon.
Her night-time wanderings witnessed by the nightjar and the loon.
She trips from dune to pebbled beach in wonderment and awe.
Revelling in her yearly sojourn as she dances on the shore.
With child-like innocence her eyes and ears dart at every sound,
as her naked body glides and weaves, feet barely touch the ground.
With the advent of the breaking dawn, she knows she must relent.
The shoreline beckons, the ebbing tide mean her time is almost spent.
She lies where shingle meets the strand as skin reverts to scale.
Then, she is gone, in a splash of foam and a swish of her mighty tail.

Nature Rhyme Time

beechwoods downland 
           common heath
chalky soil 
      inches beneath

trees 
      jostling tall
leaf,yellow-brown 
          in Autumn fall

fallow deer feed 
    at dawn and dusk
 treading flat 
        the beechnut husk

roedeer muntjac proliferate
where Nature reverts 
                  & liberates

colours tint our view
         daylight
so soon out of sight
            
 waves goodbye

      all  creatures exhale

a sigh

Time Bows

When the ages rock,
all divergence reverts to type

And time bows to the inner voice
—of eternity

(Dreamsleep: December, 2019)

That Horse

Every scepter, every throne,
reverts again anew

The god’s, their will divided,
in Iliads of truth

All wars of good intention,
paved avenues to hell

Honor shamed by Zeus renamed
—that horse where judgment dwells

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

The Open Sea

We're traveling on the open sea;
It's rolling, gray and vast.
My husband's feeling the effects -
I hope it doesn't last.

The endlessness I do not like.
At least when I see land,
The world reverts to someplace
I am apt to understand.

Below us creatures swim around,
Oblivious, I'm sure,
To all of us who sail on by
Outside of their front door.

I'm sitting on the balcony 
And staring at the sea.
It's hours 'til we dock and that
Is way too long for me.

Check Please

Strange how psychosis seems to be the leverage for genius
Fragment the truth 
bevel reality
Within the derelict wasteland of inspiration
the resolution will be found
That sinkhole reverts
and the illusion of truth can never be known

Inside His Mind

He reverts back to the scars of his youth
Fighting the demon he’s turning into
Trying to sweep away a fire
As he holds the igniter
Lighter fluids doused all over the broom
That's been his mood
He sits alone 
looking a little confused
Why'd you saw me to the bone?
When you said it will just leave be a bruise

He’s neglected 
He’s on his last leg 
And he’s desperate 
He’s hurtin’ 
So he decided he’s gonna get the last word in 
Going to tip the glass left
Shake whatevers loose
And close curtain 

He lifts his chin up
On a chair in his room
Hypes himself up 
with whisky and valium 
Tied a knot around his neck
And then tied the knot to his roof
There was nothing I could do
Just dug my hands into my head
Like I was about to tear it in two

I’m sorry that I left us
I feel sick to my soul
My brain feels infected 
I just had to “dont know”
I needed help from feeling helpless
After al the sparkles I collected
I finally got the nerve 
To speak up stop feeling nervous
Only to suffocate on every word

The Edge Of Hope

As the years morph into decades,
Time wreaks havoc on your body.
Your hair grays, and your skin wrinkles,
and yet, your inner child doesn't age.

When a spent sun morphs into Night,
dreams take you back to yesteryears.
Memories immortalize youth,
and Time slips into slumber mode.

By altering reality
Sleep fuels fantasy wishes
that tend to feel so surreal,
like treading on the edge of Hope.

Awakened by Dawn's arrival,
Time reverts right back to today.
And the next tomorrow awaits
yonder, over the horizon.

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