The eyes fall heavy, dropped like iron weights,
The crimson seal breaks open on the page.
A silent heart decodes its darker fates,
As lips unclose without a smile to gauge.
Out through the mouth, a stark emission flies -
A gasp of feathers leaves a bitter trace.
Black words like crows sweep through the quiet skies,
To peck the margins of a narrow space.
No whisper marks the blood the poets bleed,
Dark mulberry stained upon the sacred font.
I dip the quill to satisfy the need,
And trace the only baptism that we want.
Our drawn out paths were meant to run divine;
We cast the runes and walk the crooked line.
Candide Diderot. ‘26
Despise not the small beginning,
For at God’s appointed time,
Small beginnings grow to great -
Go where He calls, bring change, don’t hesitate!
Let creativity, talent flow,
Innovation where He will show.
For He’s the breaker, strong and sure,
Moves the immovable, performs the miraculous.
Let God’s favor shine on your life,
Revival winds sweep through the strife.
In homes and cities, His Spirit renew,
Lord, we are coming back to You.
We align with Your covenant true,
Faithful forever, our hearts pursue.
Flames sweep through the boles.
The dying, blackened forest
chars, withers, and burns.
Fireflies at night.
Are busy.
They light up with attitude.
And land on my shoulder unexpectedly.
In the summer.
Cars going by sound crisp as they sweep through town.
My head is unmuffled.
And my hands are free of those gloves.
Winter hassles.
Like clearing the driveway.
My voice is raspy from the cold air and sicknesses.
Winter boots would get muddy over and over.
In the summer.
Fireflies light up to make us feel excited.
As one lands on my glass of iced tea.
Reminding me to fill the glass again.
I know that this lake will freeze again.
And soon, we’ll forget about the flowers.
Nothing exists in the winter.
Except hot tea and hot coffee.
One of the last fireflies of the season.
He dropped by and told me that it was almost September.
Then, he flew so high up, I lost sight of him.
One of summer’s last magic tricks.
The lake froze.
My hands almost did, but I got mittens on in time.
I have blankets and coats in my car.
My car starts up harshly and loudly in the winter.
Fireflies at night.
Every summer.
They say things and dazzle us.
And they will next year too.
Take me down the cobbled path
Where moss and grasses grow
Sink my heels in dampened sand
Where oceans ebb and flow
Let the breeze sweep through my lips
The sunshine warm my skin
Let the dew drops gently fall
Where mornings will begin
Dance me though the scattered corn
And twirl amongst the stars
Let the rain splash down the stream
To the world that once was ours
If I feel the sun upon my face
The wind rush through my hair
If I breathe in the salt and close my eyes
I pause, and you are there
Caught between a glamorized past and an imploding present,
Future's hope hangs upon the scales of a timid fate.
A country splintering,
A modern-day civil war where words fly by like bullets.
Family and friends become nothing but mere collateral,
To radicalised ideals and misplaced allegiances.
While the rest of the world unites,
Watching as the sparks of hate ignite.
As flames of blind loyalty sweep through cities.
Idiocracy now rules the ashes,
The clock is ticking down.
Will you cower in the shadows,
Waiting for the winds of change to blow over,
Or will you fight, come hell or high water?
You are still in my bones, like a shadowed refrain,
A song never spoken, a pulse in my veins.
Each whispering silence, each unmeasured beat,
Reminds me of days when our hearts dared to meet.
I walk through the dusk where the twilight is torn,
Where memory blooms like a rose with a thorn.
I feel you in rivers that sweep through the night,
In clouds that drift pale, in the edge of the light.
Though time wears you thin like a stone in the stream,
I find you in fragments of half-waking dreams.
In petals of evening, in whispers of air,
A shadow, a heartbeat—forever you’re there.
The world has grown quiet, yet under the skies,
Your echo still lingers, in moonrise and sighs.
I close my eyes gently, and there you remain,
A ghost in the marrow, a trace of sweet pain.
''Mighty: 'Mira, have you seen the dam's reservoir level rise?''
Its water spills over, a dangerous disguise
Mira: ''Yes, I have, my friend. It is a terrible sight
The flood brings a destructive might".
Mighty: ''The Engineers, they say it is all for good.
To generate power, for the people's hood.
But what about the homes and lands below?
The waters rage, will they ever know?''
Mira: ''The dam stands tall between us two.
A symbol of man's power, but also their woo.
Nature's force, cannot withstand.
The flood's fury will sweep through this land''.
Mighty: ''Oh! Mira, I fear for those downstream.
Their safety and homes seem like a terrible dream.
The water's rise knows no bounds.
Its power is immense, it knows no grounds."
Mira: '' But still, we stand strong, like guardians of old.
Witnesses to man's might, and to nature's hold.
And though the flood may come, with all its might.
We'll stand here forever, throughout day and night".
So let the flood rage on, with all its might
For man and nature, will surely fight
And though the dam may falter, and the water may spill.
Our strength will stand steadfast still.
Rivers flow as the Milky Way
Broken clouds, the rain pouring down from skies
Stop protecting your opinions
Occasionally we are punished
for something we have never done
Obvious discrimination without a filter
nothing is excluded
Wandering through many hundreds of hymns
as tides that sweep through pulsating veins
The wise person does not associate with liars
Disappointments will perhaps diminish over time
obviously an ignorant inference
No one dreams,
if the eye never sleeps
The depth of the feeling
continued in the rainy weather
"Winter ensures greater bonding than any other season by bringing the family members together to sit around the hearth enjoying the warmth of the fire and sharing pleasantries"~ By Poet
Snowflakes are sliding down through porous air.
They look like confetti on a pretty bride in white.
Some land down on bare limbs of trees and bushes
Rabbits and squirrels into their comfy borrows alight.
A thick blanket of snow is spread over hills and dales.
Land and trees look as if someone painted them wholly white.
Like pretty jewels, suspended rain drops gleam and glitter.
Cold blizzards blow and sweep through the whole night.
When flakes of snow are thus gently gliding and landing,
When I feel the chill in my body and all through my bones,
Into the depths of sweet slumber, my mind takes flight,
Enjoying the magic of winter and wind’s euphonic tones!
Come, autumn breeze, in September
Sweep through our hearts so elegant
Like Connie, our sweet celebrant,
With sadness we will remember
Her warm and gentle touches still
Whispers of happiness until
She left us, a glowing ember
Burning so brightly in our hearts
Poems with rare beauty imparts.
Stirring souls like burning cinder
Becomes a muse to light our way
On this another autumn day.
On the Soup no finer member
Always there with a compliment
Kind words of praise she always lent.
Come, autumn breeze, in September
With sadness, we will remember
She left us, a glowing ember
Stirring souls like burning cinder
On the Soup no finer member.
Written September 23, 2022
Submitted to: "In Remembrance of Connie - Autumn Theme"
Sponsored by: Suzanne Delaney
Like calm breezes sweep through the trees,
The silent voices of God caress our souls
Sometimes with a rustle that startles us
Reminding us again who is at the controls.
When least we expect a jolt of awareness
Comes into our minds, a sense of presence,
Reminding of a force greater than ourselves
Renewing understanding of divine essence.
When those moments come, we reflect
Facing the reality of our certain immortalities
And, vowing to make the most of our time,
We begin to set aside our vain banalities.
written March 1, 2022
Amid falling leaves,
Beneath the rasping trees,
Nature sounds
A little groggy with sleep.
Proud and defiant wind
Puffs its lips
Out with its bad-
Temper breath.
Leaves tussle with a few laps
Around not touching the ground.
A wink of Autumn amorous
Sweep through the coppice.
Novice is the breeze
Alone reaching then
Once, twice, and thrice
Refusing to meet rustle shadows.
Who can resist the deep,
Natural colors of deep earthy
Toning melodic colors
And green display?
Caramel, lemon, crimson,
And dark chocolate hues
Against a spectrum of light
And freshen air of sweetness.
7/27/2020
Pick-A-Title, Vol 20 - Free Verse 3 - Poetry Contest
1. Amid Falling Leaves
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
*HHS Secretary Alex Azar says the U.S. time is closing, to control the spread
The U.S. has reached an all-time high, of Covid cases from the start
We may lose control of the spread, any last grip falling apart
It would sweep through every state, when you think of it this way
Overwhelm hospitals, from every direction, filling up day to day
Then we would return to the beginning of a shut down
That had everyone complaining to start with, in each town
None of this makes any sense, as today we watch each crowd
Fill up streets side by side, all together screaming loud
I’ve always said, the virus will prove the truth over all
But, it’s unbearable to watch it, contribute to America’s fall
Heidi Sands
6/28/20
When you died
My heartache reached my bones.
You seemed an old soul, but ageless.
Your death caught me by surprise.
Your deep, long, full voice
never to sweep through a room.
Never to fillet my soul
or plunge cold reality into my heart.
The lingering lines of your poetry
lay siege to my essence
and unlock the hidden door
from which all poets pen.
Your life of anguish and peace,
dance partners in the pattern of life,
open me to the possibility of both.
Sorting the discord to a song,
you lived the dichotomy of life
and spun the contrast to a single sphere of light.
As I ripen, opening to your music,
I long to align my life with yours.
To sit in meditation with your teacher,
to pen the lessons of life in compassion of others.
The world will be less the world I love
With you absent from the stage.
Exit Right, Empty Stage
End of Final Act.
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