Tethers Poems | Examples

Hostages to Fortune

Before dawn,
the world breathless~
heartbeats 
become tethers
to the whims of fate
and old dreams
flying
out of reach.
Fickle 
fate holding
our fortunes
hostage to power~
meager money eked out
from
minions of despots.

LISTEN to the Wind

"In fall, nature must rest for when they return in spring, to be at their best. " -quote by poet

The trees hear whispers in the wind begin
 It's now time to surrender and let fall win
Slumber is upon them as they start to let go
  To be strong and barren for blankets of snow
 Branches relax as their leaves start to turn
Letting them fall knowing in spring they’ll return

  Hummingbirds hover as they frantically feed
 Fresh nectar for their migration trips a need
The wind whispers warnings as the days get shorter
  When ready, he'll find his mate and will escort her
    Goldfinches appear in their olive drab feathers
Working to secure their nests with twig tethers

 Squirrels and chipmunks are scurrying about
   Busy finding acorns as they sputter and spout
  They listen to the wind as it whistles and whirls
 And lifts fallen ground leaves in colorful swirls
   Flowers hold on to their last blooming breaths
Before they all succumb to their fall deaths
   Nature always listens to the wind's fall requests

Fear making the same mistakes

she was a giver; not just to me, but to many more.
I was angry and mean, the words I used I now abhor.
Did I know better? Possibly, and yet, I flung terror into the air.
Hitting her in the heart with arrows of nasty, not giving a care.

I was not a good partner, I killed her spirit and more.
I was angry and mean, the words I used I now abhor.
Too late to fix it, she is gone now, she has flown away.
She has a family and love, her life now happy and gay.

And here I sit, in my nest for one, all gloomy and dark.
My tethers of nastiness no longer a joke or a lark.
I want to do better, but I fear I’ll make the same mistakes again.
My negative spirit I inherited from my family, my kin.

A Nurse Dies in a Far Away Land

The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.

It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.

You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.

The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.

In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the dream felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.

Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.

The Soul Waits

The soul dreams . . .
of a day when it can be free;
a day when it is no longer held captive
in a murky world of dark thoughts and dark deeds.

The soul yearns . . .
for a time when it can forever soar;
a time when it can break free of earthly bonds,
chains of fear, tethers of stark indecision.

The soul knows . . .
that within this span of mortal existence,
the morsels on which it chooses to feed,
ultimately, decide its immortality.

The soul waits . . .
locked in its cell of consciousness,
nourished by offered morsels of good and evil,
clothed only in the thin fabric of conscience.

I Do Float Through Life Reaching Out

Scissors
Cut cords in half,
Tethers binding gone, poof…
I do float through life reaching out
As new.

She's

She's a two edge sword,
who wheels profound believes;
Thus, sashays with Viking's valor 
and intuitive ease.
She's been known 
to bend, near break,
to shade discarded leaves;
From harsh-scolding droughts
or debar's frost-bite freeze.

She's 
no puppet-master
and certainly, 
ain't angst's puppet, hung;
Who submissive,
cowardly questions, 
bows then scurrys 
when her strings
are tugged.

She's that avid eagle
with freedom's rein to soar.
Her nest, 
it never tethers,
with knowledge's thirst, 
explores.
The world, it's her oyster,
with every venture, 
craves to conquer more.

Ties

It takes off-rhyme
to heighten rhyme -- 
like background in a
painting, should not
obliterate the fore...
leaving little to view,
less to excite and visually
explore -- (my wife, a fashion
plate...and I, the mutt of a date~

somehow, it works....)

I guess, if not for man's fall,
there would be no theme of God
to venerate -- in a dark sense~
evil is the light of good reflection

a night that makes bright the stars

a canvas of the greater heavens yet
to lasso and draw-in or pull one's self
up for loftier expansion -- 

earth experience, perhaps a mere dust-mite 
on the surface of creation -- 

With poetry, Free Verse is far from free:

a rush pounding as the poet's heart~ bursting a
dam of pent-up, drumming passion -- overflowing 
banks insane to absorb, to further-in deepen pools of
whatever for drink.  Everything is attached...a-thirst, with seen 
and unseen flowing tethers --

I Invoke the Sandman

I forgot how to endure,
Having relied on external things.
Decades lost to troughs, filling anxious voids with nonsense thoughts.

I forgot that I am.
Forgot how I always was.
This night, I remember.
Free from tales imbued in me by lesser spells. 

I invoke the Sandman now.
Coil your fortunes upon the Kundalini!
Free me from the tethers; the gated pasts unborn by the sheer of my will.

So I can ask, yet again: Do you want to see what happens to that which suffers and survives?

Face me, and I'll teach you yet again how reason works, and what it means not to be.

Gift of Recovery

A black cloud envelops my sky
Threatening to rain down a torrent of pain
Oceans of commotion swirl in my brain
And I try to bandage the wounds in vain

I see only the receding vistas of light
And night prowling like a stealthy thief
The past chills the mind like hanging icicles
And I feel so heavy with frozen grief

I inch my way up like an ugly snail
My life is riddled with contradictions
Oh, I am waylaid, lost and beaten
From every corner, I meet only oppositions 

Yet dreams break forth in my heart
Amidst darkness shines a light
A call to spirit to seek the gift of recovery
Transforming pain into strength and delight

I must break loose of all the tethers
Let my soul embrace all that is dear
From this cage, I must fly out
The sky beyond me lies blue and clear!

Even at moments when we feel,
God has forsaken us, time assures;
However bad things are, recovery is possible,
When God is there quelling all our fears. 

Now I am on a journey of redemption
I tell myself- “Come out from this hell
Just start anew, nothing is beyond recovery
The dawn is near and all shall be well”

Together we are joyful Souls

Together we are joyful Souls 
By Michelle Morris 
20/09/2024

In your eyes, I see my purest face
In your eyes, our Love and Grace 
All the way down, into your Soul 
All the way through, we are Whole 

I never wanted much for human things 
Being an Angel without my Wings 
Sometimes I wonder why I try
Sometimes I ponder this Choice of Life

But there is a Path for each of us 
And in God's Infinite Wisdom I must trust 
While we are here, we are together 
Forever connected through our tethers

These Silver Threads so unique 
These entwined identities that we weave 
In your heart, I know I'm Home 
Together we are joyful Souls

© Michelle Morris, 2024

Quantum Challenged I

"Referencing an old poetic imagism sort of poem I wrote some four years ago--almost to the day---wherein lies a paradox," ... by The Poet.

MIRROR, MIRROR

I was in a room,
there, I saw a mirror,
and then I saw him,
I told him to get out,
and he did,
and he took the mirror,
and I was no more.

--The End--

There's a speck of time 
that I can't define
yet only wonder
if fair of measure
howbeit true worth
yond meaningful girth
tethers our notion
 ... imagination
from that point, stretching
through awakening,

RE: Poeticisms Out From The Left Field

"A personal shout-out to our sponsors and their vapid articulations who made this message possible," ... by The Poet.

Poets and poetesses ascribe to a greater call, 
in their endeavors to make their chosen path a cure-all 
from those who trivialize and minimize their virtuous 
field of poetry's righteous domain and their arduous 
measures to maintain a certain quality in their works
of art, to the world of writers past and present, networks
that tethers a fragile grasp on absolutes discipline, 
and severance from the mundane, effortless, and simpleton,
out from the left field, melodramatic, sugarcoating,
southpaws are unreasonable and consequently, nothing 
our opponents that come out from the left field properly
have no concept of true value to offer poetry.

Fairy Tale Happy

Goldilocks had three, not one berry, 
Humpty Dumpty in jubilation
Mary, who is quite ordinary
Rainbow gold tip tethers creation
Jack, Jill, and my son are happy.

The Breath Of Summer: Saturnian I

A stretched gloaming tethers creation in a 
daystar's wake ... askew parts The Old Guitarist 
ebbing lambent stars strung to a yarn of spring ...

'Tis the volley of calendrical crasis 
poised to a youthful Einstein that subtracts from 
the sum and substance whence summer makes a splash ...

The advent of an enchanting star dulls a
chant that the Khanate only stains upon its 
Golden Horde smolders beneath befriending clouds ...

A whiff that slights Aurelius' bearings yet
still trifles a chalk absence to the presence
of cheese that embellishes the languid tracing ...

The shallow space of bards decreed a crowning 
flock of teary favoring san tissues of
lissome verdancy choral ode vibrant charms ...

Worshipped effervescent microscopic dew 
bringing into being just one bell prayers
bearing fruits of promise in globule water ...

Petrichor emanates to a hoverance 
wisp claim as wandering brevity stands still 
amidst a sonder of souls ventured threshold ...

Gold beams glimpsed a bevy coup of a vast crest
as the dripping stalled in evaporating
stares chase a clinked rainbow flaunts with ... creation.

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