Rewound Poems

Thoughts Running Free 4

Thoughts unraveling like loose strings on a ball,
then rewound to make useable opinion.

Past and future lose all their intrigue,
in the clearness and fulfillment of a present moment.

The intensity and immediacy of a brilliant thought,
becomes calm in the presence of an epiphany.

One’s time is truly blessed,
when passion and purpose are in each moment.

Ask me a question that in answering it,
I may fulfill a need of your mind.

Show me the emotions you feel in life,
that I may know the thirst and joy of your soul.

Does having a meaning for life complete life,
or is having a meaningless life even possible?

Let you soul’s destiny flow through you,
let it show others perfectly who you are.

I Still Choose You

If time rewound, if life reset,
if I stood again where we first met,
knowing all I know of us two,
I wouldn’t pause—I’d still choose you.

Not just for the fire, though it burned so bright,
not just for the thrill, the rush, the flight,
but for the quiet, the steady, the true,
for the love that remains when the flames subdue.

I’d choose you in the hush of the morning light,
in the warmth of your voice when the world isn’t right,
in laughter that lingers, in silence that speaks,
in love that runs deeper than words ever reach.

I’d choose you in struggle, in triumph, in pain,
in losses endured, in lessons ingrained.
Through every scar, through every mile,
through every storm that could not shake your smile.

If love is a choice—not luck, not command—
then let me make it, again, hand in hand.
Not just for yesterday, not just for today,
but for every tomorrow that time dares to lay.

I still choose you.
And I always will.

You Saw Anew

      Sundial numerals illuminate 
      Knowing noon narrow shadow arrow strikes
      Flicks ‘round corners of maze elaborate 
      Heraldic daffodil, dormant out psychs 

      
      Lion, amber assured stride resolute
      Teams beside mine, admires canter cloud bounce
      Trembled meshing manes make brushstrokes astute
      Abstract turns apparent, rewound amounts


      Labyrinth lane secures our fears slumbering
      Canary chortle performs audacious 
      Honey wine celebrates when Summer brings
      Walls torched in lofty laughing blazes


      Flung flaxen, fertile wheat fields’ wispy waltz
      Scorched xanthe seeds multiply dream results






     24th July 

    Yellow Leo

The Empty Room

Memories float in the emptiness,
   in a room full of you ~
like the dust in a ray of sun
disturbed by whispered wishes
& the silence of echoed sighs...

God, I wish so, that time,
could be rewound like    
a movie that always began,
    but never ended!!

YOU, are worth so much more
than thoughts in this empty room
that is so - very full of YOU
and... overbrimmed with everything
     ~ that was US...

    I MISS YOU..........

5

"  ... loud and clear..."

I could hear god say

A. dialog established

and a Scribe is in play



"... 22 leaves..."

God reminds



"...from inside a cloud

comes a clear ring

Sound..."

about time 



I replied to stay around

and then the skies turned

and I was rewound ...

" ... stayin' a while..."

was the smile

I gave in return



"... five by nine ..."

and then indeed

my rhymes aligned

can't say I'm reborn

but my soul does burn

" ... four, the find..."



... persistent, God can be...

Cement Trucks

In the end
it was too slow, afflicted
by either age or illness
or simply distracted,
flew head first
into the eye of a headlight.
Flung contorted, neck bent
back, snapped of life,
it died
clumped on a verge.
Rewound to its first flight,
its brief existence traced
untold scribblings
across time and the space
stretched between
these tall trees.

No record remains.
A full stop is placed
here on this muddy shoulder,
the end to something 
which, only a moment ago,
flickered through the circuits
of a living brain.
It leaves nothing
but a small hole
and progeny
ignorant of history.
Whatever flowering form
that bloomed here
grew in the blind reaches
beyond knowing, no more
than a short awakening
programmed by its kind,
an expendable part fed
into the machinery
through which all life churns.

Chance had my way
intersect this point
and dab thought upon thought
to stem the bleed.
No balm soothes
the wounds
of this crumpled mess.
Cement trucks rumble by
moved by the need
to fill an empty space,
as these words try to do.

Day By Day

?

A little eye not made by man,
all woman seem to have.
Available to none but honey bees.
Clinging to my window butterflies.

If only screens were made back then,
rewound beyond tomorrow's song.
Voices heard inside my head sing to me and say.
Honey sweet the bread was by me, made today.




e.d.

Day By Day

A little eye not made by man.
All woman seem to have.
Available to none but honey bees.
Clinging to my window butterflies.

If only screens were made back then,
rewound beyond tomorrow comes.
Voices heard inside my head that said.
Honey sweet the bread is made today.




e.d.

The Search For a Missing God

In the beginning a romance,
Every morning waking up in her arms,
Yet in my dreams my love was for,
A mystery woman not of this world.
My dreams were blurry and so confusing.
Trapped in the present when intimacy 
Was difficult for me because,
There was no love.
I was unhappy, I couldn't fix it. 
We never talked about feelings.
My heart was disappearing.
One night a dream saved me.
She was my hero, my fantasy, 
My mystery woman.
She was what I needed I could,
Feel all her love.
My fantasy entered into my 
She walked towards me, smiling.
The same mystery woman I dreamed,
Of  she called me LAUREN.
She caressed  my cheek as I saw 
Tears in her eyes.
Cam is all I could  say as tears,
Flowed down my face.
She kissed me and all my memories,
Rewound until I saw us in,
A world unlike this one.
Cam I remember Everything,
A spell took me away to this,
Primitive planet.
Our kids?
Zeus is spoiling them-no discipline  at all
Cam he is their grandfather it's his 
Job to spoil them.
It's so good to hear you laugh again.
I've missed you so much.
Let's go home to Olympus it has,
Grown so much they need your 
Botanical gardens to flourish again.

Mom Sleeps Through It All

The most relaxed woman I have ever met, and yet seems quite sane.
Watched her nap in the dining car while bandits were robbing the train.
She slept through gunfire, and barely stirred during her little sleep.
Did she hear the screaming? No. She slumbered and deep.

Is she okay? The detectives asked after they had questioned the rest.
Don’t know, I replied. Let’s give her the ultimate sure-fire mom test.
So, we got as quiet as this carload of strangers could ever get.
And that professional mother came up rapidly, with fire and spit.

Why is it so quiet? What is going on here? She demanded to know.
Surprised, for she had missed the entire bandit shooting show.
Something is off, she said. With many children, it is never this quiet.
Did not stop asking until we rewound the tape showing her the riot.

I knew something was wrong, she said. Next time wake me up, okay?
This woman was the mother of sixteen children, happy and gay.
She had raised them to be responsible and never start a fight or riot.
I learned a professional mother wakes when people get quiet.

The Good Ole Days

For an aged brother, RIP.

His good ole days are still to be,
In football heaven, in eternity,
Looks at the face of the universe, does he,
He rewound his music, so country,
He got them all back, you see,
His wife, his old dog, his car, no needs,
Pray his good ole days are still to be.....

Parts

A movie within a movie
films itself.

Actors feature a reality
a reality that does not exist quite the same
outside of fiction. 

Emotions are sometimes ugly, 
sometimes beautiful, often agonizing
but they are not all the same.

An emotion in a movie
can be rewound and repeated 
and each time it will be the same.
Our reactions can become clockwork like that.

A good actor knows this,
a bad actor is exposed by the words
put in his mouth.

Poetry can have some truth in it
yet still be fiction.
Why this talk of poetry?

Why not?

Fresh Feelings

My feelings well up from inside
Suppressed no more, this side
Every deed now with emotion
The balm of a healing lotion

Stuck no more in sterile talk
I am on the freedom walk 
Free from being trapped
Now in territory, unmapped

What do I now really feel?
Like a rewound movie reel
Like a volcano rumbling
Buried feelings now bubbling

I Went To Welcome Town

Infused with newness, available script ushers me in
Eyes peeled with anticipation for next discoverings

Last easy bend of cane growing country road owns
Entry to rewound time, fibro cement rows of homes 

Palm sprinkled, speed decelerates in sleepy streets
Alluring new place charisma, adventure incomplete

Faintly reminiscent of brisk Christmas road trip visit
First time river glimpse brings excitement exquisite 

Quaint little town, family pub, caravan park opposite 
Mere steps reveal mangrove muddy boat ramp slip

Tinny two horse standard, - biminis seen as high brow
Fishing rods' supple hope supports mates' bonding, tribal

Murk of shallows turn sparkle, close island destinations 
Brown armed boaties lower crates to catch crustaceans 

Wander past real estate branch (sole agent for miles) 
Owner opens door, pulls me in, I admit I'm beguiled

Offers me a place to rent, sixteen steps away, got key
Forty minutes later, I'm signing papers, - it had to be!! 

Two years in paradise passed, an idyllic place to dwell
Worked in the big smoke, drove home to Jacobs Well



15th August 

' Sanctuary' Contest 

Sponsor, Silent One

I Have To Go

I have to go now.

Never thought this day would come
 perhaps, 
 it was inevitable.

Our days together
 always
 seemed so conditional.

You with your unkept dreams
 mine with my unkept promises
 kept us distantly apart.

If only time could be rewound
 the wounds would heal
 the unkind words spoken disappear.

Who knew this day would come?

Maybe both of us
 held that realization
 deep down in our hearts.

So now, I'll say my goodbyes
 with tears and sadden regrets
 as you go your way and I mine.

I have to go now, 
 it's just another,
 a simply sad
Goodbye,

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