Short Transferring Poems

Relaxing at home

Thoughts of work long forgotten

Quiet and peaceful

Transferring thoughts to paper

In poetic endeavors...

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Cold hands
Abrupt attacks on skin of a furnace
Teasing the surface 
A passionate play through hair standing like stalks of wheat
Transferring love 
Warmth soaking the chill
As sun bathes the dawn...

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Hope Diamond is worth two hundred millions.
Donated to Smithsonian by one worth billions.
This forty-five carat gem was sent to them by regular mail.
They were lucky the 1958 postal service did not fail....

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Love
Embrace
All that is
Everything
More as it grows deep
Into the soul of both
Involved till eternity
Evolving into passionate
Flashes of ecstasy transferring
Both participants beyond mortal bliss...

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sift through sands of time
one grain sparkles forever
your light fills our hearts




_______________________
Tribute to our friend, Amy T.
Wonderful co-worker who is transferring...

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Nice to see you then I give a warm hug 
Transferring energies from me to you
Embracing longer than most ever do
Injecting kindness like some kind of drug

March 6, 2020

For Kind Ink Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina |...

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Always beautiful creations delivered.
Each form generated.
Has idealistic journey.
Kaleidoscopic,
Living movements,
Natures own power,
Quaint resolute serenity,
Transferring ubiquity valiantly,
Wafting xenia,
Yearlong zealousness...

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Knowledge unknown
Reading blank pages
Transferring empty space
Unwilling to listen
Sounds becoming silent
Thought’s placed deep
Harmony now speechless
Separated by words
Now cold to the world
Shivering with fear
Lost words unspoken
Along and unheard
By words...

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Spring
Bells ring
Sparrows sing
Blooms, in joy, swing 
To twigs, dry leaves cling 
Breeze, with glad tidings, ping
Midst creatures, there's a stirring
Cold-heat, slow weather transferring 
Scenes of fog, mists, and ice are blurring 
Will all these, yet, to the poor, new joys bring?
...

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my pen cuts me
deep
blood spills
drenching the page
with my self
with the very liquid
that gives me life
seeping into every pore
transferring my life
to paper
memories to tangible material
emotions to words
mind in another place
reliving pain and euphoria
I cut myself
and I bleed life...

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I find myself 
getting lost
within the concrete 
that is cold and cold 
resigned to white walls 
while the worth of my words 
are measured 
in glass flasks 
there is no soul here after all  
and I will soon grow 
used to the blank stares 
of mirrors 
the hardness 
of science

this time memories 
of sunshine 
will not save me at all 
from such a fate...

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Terracotta oil lamp, nearly two millennia balanced in the palm of my hand
An archaic flashlight for some Mesopotamian householder
Hands over centuries transferring it from one owner to the next
And to think that in its newest state, a sleepy flame from its spout
Cast a glow upon a bed, a table, a wife’s face, a scroll or a book 
Illuminating the momentary life that burns faster than oil....

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Eyes
            pour my
         pain always
        to the pillow. 
     Upon bed it lies..
       hearing faintly
         to my deep
          distressed
              Cries.

24-5-2020

~DEEPA~

Note1:*Ninette poetry Contest*
Sponsored by Emile Pinet.

Placed as Honorable Mention in the Contest.
Note2:BRIAN'S CHOICE 10,any form,any theme
Sponsored by Brian Strand...

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‘I leave am for God’
Is the poor man's prayer 
When he submits to higher realms
Transferring judgement to higher forces 
The answer to that prayer is often terrifying 

When you take another for granted 
Trampling on another because you are advantaged
Usurping communal wealth because you are in charge
Bleeding the flock you are supposed to pastor 
It is the poor man that bears the brunt 

Don't fall a victim...

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political
social-democracy is a dressed-up capitalism
And you can’t have it both ways.
Sooner or later capitalism will take over
By transferring the utilities to private hands

Water is a human right issue so is access
To see unhindered the wonder of nature.

Socialism is about sharing recourses
Capitalism is by taking it and selling it for profit
The two beliefs cannot mix as human greed
Takes over if unchecked...

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Brewing in the near distance
Everything deathly still
Awaiting with anticipation
Under a darkening sky
Turning closed eyes to the heavens
I feel the first drops of rain
Fierce wind wildly whips the trees
Undivided, looming clouds
Living water hammers furiously

Slamming the beautiful earth
Transferring vitality from sky to land
Opening my eyes; the devout viewing god
Restored in her rapture
Making meaning from nirvana
Seeing through her eyes...

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Duty: Obligation

A poets duty is to him or herself to write their thought’s
We have no obligation to anyone but our hearts
Although my thought’s you do inspire, so I do have a duty to you
We walk among the living dead searching for there thought’s
Transferring them into ours then creating new ones
Poetry is not complicated unless you complicate it
Poetry is: 

KISS

K-Keep
I-It
S-Simple
S-Stupid

Contest: A Poets Duty
Sponsored By: Beth Evans
Date Created: 10/13/2020...

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It is our poetic verse
That releases the restraints
Opening our minds eye 
To flowing sincere thought  

It is the flowing of ink
That becomes our salve
Healing our wounds and scars
Allowing us to be unafraid again

It is the poet’s candid opus
The voice of the untainted spirit
Transferring our tedious passions
From internal, to pen, to parchment,

It is our steadfast sanctuary 
Where we hide in total exposure
Our poetry is the end of  todays voyage
For we who dare to wander...

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