Short Revolutions Poems

Atomic revolutions
bordering
the world's cottons....

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Powerful rhetoric
converts passionately join
dismay in future...

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Revolutions aren't where change really starts
   Meaningful change always starts in the heart...

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Colonies in America rebelled -
British, French Haiti, why the latter quelled?...

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The revolutionary creates revolutions:

In the silence of the dark night.
And the fresh dawn light.
With the hope to make life right.
By the means of a violent fight....

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The period of time that it takes for our planet, 
to make a complete revolution around the sun,
is how long  my love for you will last.  

How many revolutions do you want?...

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Up, down, up, down
Oh what a ride,
Round and round, round and round,
I've got quite a feeling inside,
Ever constant revolutions,
My stomach just gave me a hunch.
Up, down, around, RETCH!!!
Oh dear, I've just lost my lunch....

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Eighty revolutions
Around the sun I will soon experience 
Residing on this old planet while 
Time presses steadily toward  
Heaven—for eternity.  

5/13/2021
written for "Planet Poetry" Contest
sponsored by Matt Caliri...

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revolutions 
   in the ear
reiterations
  of textual 
        slapstick
mimesis
 mimicry
complicit
in verbal gestures
occupying
    verbal spaces
accessing
   language
shapes
spaces...
    scents
of secrets
    lingering...
               ...lingering...

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There's no unsolvable problem,
just problematic
solutions.


There's no invincible regime,
just poorly led
revolutions.


There's no pro-loser history,
just the victor's version,
that's all.


There's no racial superiority,
just the bigot's narrow-
minded wall !...

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A fruitless vein

Ruptures the
plexus

Of society’s esophagus

Embellishing virtual
pleasure

Within browsers of
opinions

Innovations, ideas,
revolutions

Traded for
corruption and malice,

Paranoia on the rise,

Innocence sucked,
swallowed, and
spewed

Into the IP addresses
of democracy...

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It has been six years 

Six long revolutions around the sun
And she still haunts me. 

The memory is gray, like an October New York City day. 

Forgotten is the reason why it stopped 

Hazy is the memory of how it began

Lost forever is the magic of it all
And she still haunts me....

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YangEgo is endosymbiotic
as Yin EcoHome grows ectosymbiotic.

These two faces of cooperative change
dipolar co-arise creolization,
transubstantiation,
metamorphic re-acclimation
within as without;

Interior landscape evolution
as exterior climates of great and small transitional revolutions....

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we need more hospitals

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need more money

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need more schools

i say, we need Mothers

they tell me, we need war, revolutions, power

i tell them, we need Mothers, we need Mothers
Mothers we need,  Mothers
i scream,  we need Moooothers...

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There were shades of tranquility
    aching 'neath civilization's cry,
still blood was shed amid glorified
  borders of battlefield's convoluted calling,
each magnified footprint pooled crimson
   filled ideologue's of disenchantment
     amidst revolutions of ill-chosen power,
 marching to drumbeats of fool's gilded dogma...

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spring hands over her bleach gowns to summer
environment grows pale green ---
cosmos under rebirth

earth tries color revolutions and fails
jaundice yellow leaf lips crack ---
no chill thrill in grass blades

Nestlings of sparrows feel hot in nestles  
cuckoos from crow nests escape ---
cocoon covers hang free


05 April 2022...

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The River Charles

Brackishly
she leaves, yet still remains,
motionless in movements rhapsody

timeless witness to a revolutions birthing
a tender refuge in the heart of city life.

Water to assuage new freedoms fire
esplanade, overtures
The River Charles


for Andrea Dietrich contest
Choose Your Favorite Body...

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. . . I stoned the lord of death to death
     we lye, now, side by side

as

effigies of who we tried to be
among countless 
revolutions
among countless 
massacres

evaporating into mixtures
of all who passed 
that day, united

beyond soils of new shoots
I, a deserter
I, a warrior 
I, a beggar
I, a zealot

with the lamb
gathering stones . . . 

...

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October eyes welcoming
seasons charming exchange
Greens for the golden, 
of trees, as they rearrange
Crimson twirls 
from limb to ground
Circles completing
as nature astounds

October eyes gleaning
whirling color revolutions
observing the dance
with pleasing devotions
Crackling leaves
crunching under my feet
another Autumn
I’m blessed to meet

©Debra Squyres...

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Clocks somersault to drive time;
Can we stop time by breaking all clocks and alarms?

The Earth somersaults to sail through years and centuries;
Would we request our ship to pause the aging of mankind?

The Light somersaults from dawn to dusk;
Could we order this planet to stop it's revolutions around the sun?

Lives somersault from good to bad;
But we can walk gracefully without bad deeds....

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Unfold my vision,
           close my eyes,
           all almost the same...
           Constant mixing,
           effervescence of voices
           and colors... almost convulsion!
           Amalgamation between
           turmoil and meekness...
           Revolutions and peace...
           Every day materializes...
           This world,
           not yet
           harmonized... !...

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there was en explosion
     confines were shattered
a decade of change
     revolutions that mattered

awareness was key
     a political dancer
freedom and peace
     love was the answer

i remember those years
     and the great apprehension
of arriving at sixty
     and getting a pension

no need to have feared
     nothing better depicts me
than to say I have loved
     my swinging sixties...

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So many times our lives rearranged
    Resilient we are, accustomed to change

  Wars, Revolutions, Coups and Upheavals
    Plunder and Pillage and assorted evils

  Recessions, Depressions, Runaway Inflation
    Calls for austerity and eating food rations

  Bankruptcies, lay-offs, terminations
    Then all of a sudden, rejuvenations  

  So go with the flow, and just do your best
    Give yourself one leg up on the rest...

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.....we have heard about the French Bastille
 and America's Boston Tea Party - revolutions 
that reminded those at the top that those at the bottom 
are human too, feeling love, pain, hunger and contentment. 
You yourself are a walking revolutionary in the making. The 
moment you become true to yourself, you cause ripples in the 
minds of those around you. They fight against everything
that you have become. They fight against the new you.......

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We spent today, singing of tomorrow,
but tomorrow never came.
With naïve hearts we wrote undying love songs, 
to transient deciduous souls.
We mockingly sat deaf at the foot of wise men’s lectures,
while we barked mute revolutions.
Brains thrashed in dormant bodies,
celebrating enlightened states of nothingness, 
We played with our lives,
the way a child plays with a gun.
And we wasted today, 
singing of tomorrow,
but tomorrow never came....

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