Short Reshape Poems

To remember
Is
To see
To reshape
How
Tomorrow
Should not be.

*...

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Unfold, get worn,
dirty, washed, refolded,
unravel, mend,
ignore, rediscover,
reshape, repair,
rethink, get comfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

life's a lot like laundry...

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Tear 
           into me,
mold with your scratches;
Carve away all the excess;
           Sculpt,
reshape the left over bits;
Take heed with matches;
    My crux chokes 
              air....

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Oh, strip me naked
Bare my soul….reshape me
Torch my very spirit.
Sate my ashen fields
With riotous rivulets
Seduce my arid beauty
Entice my dormant life
To bloom, to dance upon
Dawn’s fickle wind....

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Liquid clouds sail by
Floating between green branches
Angler’s face is blurred.

Green frog hops and swims
Stirring the placid picture
Grotesque forms reshape.

Stream now calm and still
Sky reflects countryside scene
Tranquil Man and World....

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My pen is my sword
My paper my shield
Always I shall write
Light to shed
On the hard-to-express
 
Forever I shall fight
The negativities of this world
I pledge to sustain the fight
With all my might
 
Pen for the better
Reshape the world
So help me God!...

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i had some vague dream
 god gave me a blank canvas
        to reshape my life 
    but after many attempts 
   one pattern kept emerging 


Bite Size Poem no.9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier 
Syllable counter ps 5/7/5/7/7
24/6/2021...

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I want a language composed of thin words that travel lightly and land on suspecting and wanting lips. Arrogant lips. 
 I want my words to destroy the air with precision and land upon the lips of Woman who will reshape language for me. 
 
The inflection....

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Regarding raindrops,
Rivulets run,
Readily regroup,
Recreate raging runoff rivers,
Relentlessly ravage, reshape, round, reduce rough rocks,
Remove residue,
Reach reservoirs,
Refresh, relax recalcitrant recreators,
Rest,
Rinse,
Repeat
...

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Lord let me love you
with mine imperfect heart
Stand before me embrace me
Give me your impart
Caress and guide me God reshape my heart


For it's you, your Son the reason I am no longer lost

9/21/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©...

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We’re all hurled
Into the midst,
A perfect world
Does not exist.

Taught to hate,
Doomed to die.
Our death rate
Has soared sky-high.  

We can escape,
Begin the climb.
Build to reshape
Free from crime.

Help to offset
Push and shove.
Do not forget
How to love....

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Afresh my motion has to begin.
Again my wings of toil have to flap;
A tinker's task to reshape my heart benign
To quench the gaping chasm and fill the gap;
To let anew my ambitions roam,
And dreams to seep and pervade
To the limitless shores of heaven and home,
Until the farewell is tearfully bade....

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Me, You, Us.



Titillate my perceptions

Apply flame to the desire


 

Reshape my belief in you

I want surety to persist


 

Enlightened as one

On our joy-ride

And during our misfortunes


 

Embrace my brittle heart

Transport me to my inner descendent 


 

I crave to be me

For you...

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I've wasted abundant time glancing back,
Surveying moments I might now reshape.
Muddled vision is my present day track,
From thoughts of the past I've no escape.

Dwelling on opportunities once I wasted,
Is akin to displaying an attitude of defeat.
I oft reminisce the good times tasted,
Then left to flounder craving their repeat....

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Along the barren pristine shore
Layered with fine grains of sand
A place remains untouched by man
Waves lap in soothing rhythmic motion
Brushing and polishing the surface
Soft and shimmering jewels glisten
 The lemon yellow rays shine
heating and cooling the surface
Time, weather and wind reshape
this beautiful landscape.

11/07/16...

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Now, that you’re far, and still I sense you close,
I try to resemble you with all my surroundings:
I gather you from sky and sunlight,
From flowers, muck and water,
From incantations and bad luck I try to fix you
And reshape you whole.
Outline your every sentiment,
Contour the heart that once loved me.


© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila...

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I come before you
Unloved
I come before you
A sinner

Oh, Lord Father God
Reach deep down in me(in us)
To cleanse me (us) up
Our dirty hearts
Filthy mouths

Oh, Lord God 
Remold me
Reshape me
Renew me

a sinner one I come before you Lord
Complete me
I come before you make me over


8/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee...

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enslaved by three spells 
walls of a pyramid 
waking, dreaming, deep sleep
we do in each state as bid

it is when we are awake 
that we grace limited free will
gentling therein our responses
voids of stuporous awareness fill

mindful then in the now continuum 
inhaling grace, exhaling gratitude 
we allow silence to reshape
our transformed attitude...

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You fashioned my heart 
on a cold steel anvil
bashed it and beat 
tried to reshape it
got bored and then left it
you’re a woman
husbands and boyfriends
passing acquaintances 
all left broken hearted
lives ended early
years wasted in grieving 
on the actions of  woman 


more men have died with a broken heart than any war and I add vice versa as well....

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The giant blue and green dragonfly, 
with its broken wing,
tries madly to escape 
its silver cage.

The poor old thing doesn't belie
escape from its sturdy ring
is an impossible reshape
of its once golden age.

I turn away with a sigh,
realizing with a sharp sting,
that I, too, am caught in a dreamscape
of impotent rage.


Image: Chetta Achara...

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Rub it
   Itch it
Pick at it
   Scratch it

Doesn't help
   does it?

Ignore it
   Suppress it
Disguise it
   Conceal it

It's still there
   isn't t?

Reshape it
   Disable it
Return it
   Remove it
   
Shred it
   Bury it
Drown it
   Burn it 

It still haunts you
   doesn't it? --

Let it go
   Float away
Come the dawn of
   A new day...

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I leaf through a notebook,
re-reading old poems.
I cringe at the childishness,
the bare, colliding words.
"Unsalvageable",
 I think to myself.
Better to bury them quickly,
before they try to get out.
New poems must be written;
the old cannot be saved.
Or can they?
Can I perhaps rework them,
reshape them into something new?
Could better poems be created,
if old poems are revived?...

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The morning dew is shaping my existence

Cold doesn’t describe the darkness of this place

The streets here aren’t lined with gold

Creating new wounds, pouring salt into the old

Eat me, rip me open and apart

You’re like watching a vulture working hard to perfect his art

If we burst into flames, it’s to reshape our existence 

I can go it alone while you worship resistance...

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My ovaries ache
I feel the cold
A childless body
While I grow old

As I whither
They will too
So I lay back
And wait on you

Always waiting
As season pass
Change their shape
Reshape our love

Poke and prod
Feed and plump
Turn what’s flat
Into a bump

Seed and prune
Ready to pop
Apples on trees
Groaning to drop

Fruitful pain
Wrapped up inside
My womb, a tomb
For an unborn child...

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I unlock my strongbox. My old mind is crammed with silver screen gold. I manipulate, polish, reshape, bend. Eclectic draught, a childhood net, a lifetime’s catch. All that l gleam, imagination stew and the pervious present, preserved.

a black and white film
colorized and good remake —
truth sought in sequel

RHYMES AND REASONS Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
5/31/2020...

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