& the cotton-mouthed bliss is
a life i dissolve into
can anybody apart from us feel?
amid solar pulses i exist under your orbit,
speaking into you
bright-bodied in rampant succesion to lone Junes
from when the days were long
and realisations sprung like fresh fruit, the first bite
thirsty after a winter drought
ive always been a trite conversationalist
but now we exist beneath the macabre skies,
in wake of the suns divorce
speak to me in those laden prophecies
the language you save for disasters
my words scatter within your radiations and i am pool-drunk
chlorine chasing a summer theophany,
busy understanding the world through you
Matthew 18:10 KJV
"Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven."
When you have done all
Everything you can
Recall the One who
Can do what you can't
God will care for you
When we are born
Assigned to each
An Angel Guard
Theophany
Father's face
We can't see
High enceinte
Our own
Soldier
Saint
Truths, as though fairy tales, I have heard so miscellany,
That her flora and fauna reveal true theophany;
Rolling and spinning lowlands with hill-like granite blessings,
Moss misty magnificently mysterious dressings;
Romantic and luring - they say - her existential look,
Brooks, rooks, and snooks are seen in every woods and water nook...!
Temperate temperature tranquilizingly tempting,
Gardens, perennial and seasonal trends preempting;
Gold old civilization on earth stands head holding high,
Awesome islands, like handsome tree-grooms standing by the sky;
To both the sons of the soil and the strangers so friendly,
Life though flows slowly, smoothes, soothes, and breathes quietness gently...!
The aroma of flowers and herbs all through wide valleys,
History mingles, merges with mystery, and tallies;
Farmers' wharves... fishermen's wharves... all such well flourish I learn,
To explore the harbor and Victoria Pier I yearn;
Enchanting, they say, Victoria's immaculate air,
Just once! Only once in my lifetime! I long to be there...!
18 December 2022
SPACES-THEOPHANY
This is my beloved Son
Hear Him?
Note:'spaces' is an imagism form .It has a title and three line ,the middle being blank and left to the readers imagination. I labelled it 'spaces' as the middle line is an unsaid poignant pause or image.
Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .
Note:(ichthys), or XIesoûs Khristós, Theoû Huiós, Sot?r;translates into English as 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior'
spaces-SEPTEMBER I
empty slides in the park
chatter fills the school bus
spaces- SNUFFED OUT
Bad light stops play
The muscians retire
Note: Haydn's Farewell Symphony
spaces-CATARACT
The mist lifts slowly
A new vista is unveiled
spaces-CATCH-22
A window pane shatters
Nobody makes a home run
SPACES 2
HISPANIC REVERBERATIONS
Blue-bells
SPACES 1
SHADY LADIES
Hostas
spaces- REFRACTION
a rainbow on high
liquid to light
spaces-THEOPHANY
This is my beloved son
Hear Him?
spaces-PECKING ORDER
Sparrow on the bird table
the hawk has a feast
An Abstract spaces poem
Close your eyes
What did you see?
re-post inspired by Constance form D contest
THEOPHANY
This is my beloved son
Hear Him?
note this is in the spaces form where the second line is left blank for the reader to fill with his imagination
Saint John of Rila
Father John –
I have no bread
(short is the bread daily)
And the Lestvitsa* -
so long …
Longer than a thought
and shorter than a peal
of a bell.
I’m ashamed, Father,
that today I am speaking
but not staying quiet like
a germ,
like a drop of a candle.
The heart holds me up.
*[‘lestvitsa] stairway to spiritual life
Saint John of Rila (Bulgarian: ????? ???? ??????, sveti Ivan Rilski) (876 – c. 946) was
the first Bulgarian hermit.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_of_Rila
January 7 — The Synaxis of St. John the Forerunner. This is his main feast day, immediately after Theophany on January 6 (January 7 also commemorates the transfer of the relic of the right hand of John the Baptist from Antioch to Constantinople in 956)
This is my beloved son
Hear Him?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.