Unaccustomed Poems

Dreams Deferred

Dreams Deferred 
My Dreams have always been to travel around the globe. 
Dreams Deferred? Perhaps 

My dream is to possibly become an author, second-guessing and duped. Dreams Deferred? Perhaps

Unguarded decisions,  false evidence appears real. Dreams
Deferred? Perhaps 

Guilty by association,  recognized toxic faces, unaccustomed places, I'm at a crossroads. Dreams 
Deferred? Perhaps 

Trust shattered yet my heart has not desensitized.  Dreams
Deferred? Perhaps

delicate and daintiness

unexpectedly
she stood strangely not feeling 
good ... unaccustomed


 ... of prime decency
sheltered world ~ as a mistress
breathes regency -- barfs

Stacked Chips

Azzure night calls
rush blurry eyes
Pigeons came a calling
Waterloo I curse you
morning came a sneaking
The unaccustomed scratch gilded fear
Suited clad 
screeches the acceptable
Strange exiles disowns the Thames

Satanology 4 Satan and Demons

A policy of shortchanging Workers, 
The whole submissive lot Plain Dockers. 
Satan couldn’t say they were not faithful,
Yet, of a circumstance damned hateful…
 
All about what The Demons grossly need,
Obliging them with unaccustomed speed; 
Their absurd bald passion serving it 
And they keep digging their tragic pit: 
Demons of Sex enough to burst Man’s heart 
And for God harden His Judgmental Heart
Demons of Violence Vessels of Blood
That could God’s thoughts re-channel to old flood…

Satan pays too: he’s not Their Hero;
If they had their way, score him Zero
The Demoniac in Luke upon Christ looked 
Knowledge showing of being The booked;
Satan’s Food for Demons: Excesses, 
New forms of them day and night processes…
 
Satanology for lingered glance; 
My Fuller Lecture for minds to dance.

Visions Absurd of Grandiosity

Overcome by a wave of curiosity
   I decided to try out seriosity
For which I'd no particular precocity
   'Twas an ill-fated breeze of impetuosity

With visions absurd of grandiosity
   I'd portray Julius Caesar with proper pomposity
Though, to be sure, my toga's fit was an atrocity
   Not to mention my Latin dialogue's tortuosity

Yet utterly convinced of my latent geniosity
   I spoke my lines with preternatural verbosity
Hark! Were those boos of unaccustomed ferocity?
   ~ To the nearest Exit, tomato-smeared, at hypervelocity...

A Wisdom Download

WONDERSTRUCK

One day, I was doing some work,
My dad came and gave me a jerk,
Told me to follow silently,
I obeyed him excitedly,
I asked him what it was about,
He said, “Look”, and cleared all my doubt;

A garden lizard was digging
Patiently, as time was ticking,
I sat in a chair, watched in awe,
How she was digging with her paw;

I saw two more garden lizards,
One looked much like grandpa wizard,
The other must’ve been her husband,
They seemed to be unaccustomed
To whate’er was happening there,
I could only in wonder stare;

Soon she turned and slowly settled,
Started laying eggs, so little,
One by one, they dropped in the hole,
Fifteen cute eggs, all white and whole;

I was wonderstruck at that sight,
A once-in-a-lifetime delight,
I thank God for His creations,
And for that day’s revelations,
Nature’s beauty leaves me spellbound,
God’s wonders everywhere surround.



11.22.2021

Vagabond Conquistadors

Vagabond Conquistadors
David J Walker

Having wept
	And slept
At the bottom of the canyon
I’ve become the climber 
	Of mountains

Where I may see for myself
	The residents of the clouds
And find that 
It is a lonely place
	Unaccustomed to the resonances 
Of habitation as

It moves on
Without the vagabond 
conquistadors
Claiming clouds 
in the name of Christ

I have flown and fallen twice
For the believers of fables who  
Know only what the hear on Earth

Nor'Easter

The waves dash themselves
Against the rocks,
Sending geysers of spray
High over the seawall,
Half drowning the cars
That are creeping slowly
Through the sandy lakes
Forming on the road.
The wind screams
And pounds its fists in a
Tantrum on car windows.
The angry sea hisses
And spits a frothy foam
Onto the curling mountains of
Emerald and blue-black water.
A lone cormorant dips and bobs,
Appears and disappears
In the unaccustomed,
Roiling surface of the salt
Pond across the road.
Beyond, the trees whip and
Thrash their arms,
Moaning and keening
In the driving sheets of rain.
Pieces of their shattered limbs
Litter the roadway, and
A single strand of wire
Flips back and forth,
Sparking red in the gloom.
People park their cars
Away from falling limbs
And dash for leaf-strewn
Porches, chairs all spun awry.
They shed their dripping coats
And watch the raging storm
Wreak havoc, safely, from inside!

A Space of Time My Own

Tiny new, soft green leaves,
Yet full of baby wrinkles
And winter sleep,
Uncurl and stretch,
Clinging to mother branches,
Basking in the unaccustomed
Long-awaited,
Sun-filled warmth.

Bird conversations
Fill the soft-stirred air.
Returning wanderers
Greet one another.
”Hello again! How was
Venezuela this year?
Who has the nest
In the arbor vitae now?”

I breathe the sweet April
Smell of hyacinths
And white and purple lilacs.
The stone steps are warm.
I lean into a corner,
Sun seeping into my body
Like heated syrup
Soaking into pancakes.

A space of time my own -
For just this moment
I belong to sun and earth
And birds and sky.
Eyes closed, I feel
And hear and smell
God’s world around me –
And know that it’s enough.

After the Thaw

Winter Winds
Everything withered, dead
Thin blood, unaccustomed to the cold 

Impatient
Bitter, Wishing for warmth
Shivering in a burrow of snow

Then, came You
Rain showers, soft soil, sun 
You are a flowered field in the Spring

Beginning
Like tadpoles sprouting legs
You are bullfrog songs in the moonlight


3/7/2021
Images in Parallel Contest

Beneath Life

Constrained by the sober exercise of judgment,
And dignified by deliberation and privacy.
I yanked my soul out of its secret chamber, 
And held it to the mirror of my eye.

To see it like a star or moon against the sky, 
But it dwindled to alarmingly small dimensions.
Fate had turned and twisted a thousand ways,
From the standpoint of expediency.

Fumbling and stumbling in helpless incapacity,
I'm greeted with an alloyed chagrin and gloom.
Then I heard a wordless voice,
In language terse yet familiar.

It wasn't a loose and otiose statement,
Unaccustomed tears threatened my seared vision,
I'm overshadowed by a fretful anxiety,
By this innocuous thought, I'm skulking beneath life.

But if I shine brighter in life,
Reexamine fate, destiny and my artistic aptitude,
If I fail, die and remain forgotten,
Study the agonies of my conscious failure,
And remember me with this poem.

The Empty Tomb

The Empty Tomb
Easter 2020
Written: by Miracle Man
4/11/2020
3: 40 AM

This Easter, due to the COVID-19 virus threat,
Many will celebrate Easter in an unaccustomed manner.
Our reason remains the same, only the approach will change.

Easter, is more than chocolate bunnies and coloring eggs,
or enjoying an incredibly decadent meal.
Make this holiday special; as it celebrates the resurrection 
of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.

Because of His grace, our sins are forgiven,
and Easter Sunday represents the liberty we enjoy,
to live an undefeated life wired to God. 

When the two Mary’s came to the tomb, 
and found the stone was rolled away, they entered,
 and found not the body of  Jesus. 

*An Angel said unto the women,
Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified.
He is not here: for HE Has Risen!

Stay strong- Faith over Fear.
Tom

*Matthew 28:5

The Bloomfield Poetry Circle

‘Twas supposed to be just a one shot deal.
Share my tribute poem, and away I’d steal.
 
But two dozen disparate folk,
Quietly attended the words of not one but two poems I spoke.
 
Unaccustomed to public speaking,
I felt safe revealing my feelings in their care taking.
 
Their eyes reacted to my verbal images,
Affirming heads nodded at phrases placed to advantage.
 
Then they charmed me with their emotions and imagination,
Tossing their poems’ honest words and phrases with abandon.
 
A rare safe haven for an extraordinary everyday population,
Whose courage rises to the needs of a poetic avocation.
 
They’ve already had a good effect on me,
For another poem from my mind is suddenly set free!
 
M. Renee Taylor
2-22-13

Touched By the Light of Love

Unaccustomed to happiness, we sit exiled from the light.
Coiled tight in our shells, never sharing in delight.
But like a beacon of hope showing us the path that is right.
Love has found its way and remains burning like a torch so bright.

Love has arrived like a train pulling its coaches with such might.
Memories of love seem to flicker in the carraiges moving light.
But still doubt lingers, like blinds covering happiness from our sight.
Old memories masking our thoughts, but don't let it be our blight.

Let love envelope us, with a comforting cloak and hold us tight. 
There'll be no more scurrying around in the shadows cast by the night.
Time to emerge from the murkiness and past traumas, we must extradite.
Love is all we require and our love will always be non finite.

Written 2019
Inspired by Maya Angelou

Meeting the Bad Boy

Heart aflutter
senses untethered
wholesomeness challenged
unfamiliar feeling
naïve and innocent
Unaccustomed to this attention
did he mean me?  Am I the one?
Bad boy, wandering back into my
ready-to-be-sensuous mind.
Making my daydreams crazy.

The familiar fearless soul dance as
The bad boy takes his naive victim hostage
breathless sensation, for silly reasons.

Putting myself in danger, but why?

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