I, looking in the mirror yesterday,
witnessed distorted eyes replacing mine;
and, too, the lips and nose, as if a sign,
seemed bent crooked, misaligned in some way.
And, as I, squinting, gazed on that display,
an unheeding hand groped at the outline
of the coldly reflective glass confine.
I watched it slowly mangle the red-clay
body which, lifeless, answered my dead stare.
Tearing tripe from stomach, and from breast
the heart, those fingers worked maliciously,
dismembering each inch of skin less fair.—
I know not who it was who flayed my chest:
I? or that demon called Society?
We started out, as lovers do,
Unheeding as the world slipped by
Of how, or when, or even why
We fell in love,
And nothing mattered then but me and you.
And then one day, as if on cue,
The music stopped, I can't say why,
And there we were then, you and I,
Two lovers out of love,
But were we sad or glad the dance was through?
I think of us now, now and then,
Not of the how, or why, but just the when,
With some remorse but no regret,
And I hope I never will forget,
Even should I let love come my way again.
when my river ran into your waterfall
startled egrets and alarmed herons
reached for the sky
the claws of surprised osprey let go
of wriggling fish
for a long moment
florida became a frozen lake
you could see the stunned faces
of stopped clocks
trapped beneath the ice
when we plunged
into each other unheeding
of time and place
plastic flamingos
and pink barbie dolls
flew away
in the wide open eyes
of passing snowbirds
Beneath a galloping wind
I am gathering fallen twigs and
other broken scrub.
Suddenly, head bent to this
thoughtless labor,
I am aware,
now upon my unheeding skin
fox ears prick up.
The pink shells
of seeking fingertips
trace my shoreline.
An ocean spills over
the walls of my heart.
Flocks of Robins shower down,
a gift from the racing sky?
Swift time is confounded,
I am transfixed.
This very windblown acre
instantly revealed,
as just one more feature
within a sky-wide heaven.
I live like a cancer - quick, unplanned growth unheeding of greater designs.
I devour information like a starving wolf - never sated, never tasting the goodness I consume.
I throw myself into activities under exhausting self-compulsion. I should ... so I do ... so I'll die ...
I create in a fit of madness, barely finishing one draft before my mind races to the next.
I busy myself and flood my ears with music.
I let my seething mind boil over without restraint.
I do what I can to escape thinking of you - O Time.
Scythe-wielding Saturn, most ancient of fears.
First to murder his father, only to taste the same fate.
Do I fear death so much?
I don't know ...
But I quail at the shortness of life.
There's so very much I want to do ...
And surely it's better to do much, right?
Especially when we're not sure whether all we do is right.
How can we love what we fear? What we dread?
Time, O Time ... Time ... Time .... Time .....
16 October 2023
Blackish, brownish, and greyish clouds on zenith call,
The white lambs like the ones below, unheeding, crawl;
The immaculate white egrets in elation,
Mock the grey herons, in calm Zen meditation;
Kow-kow of cuckoos and the coo-ee of koels,
Sound and resound in the idyllic nature strolls...!
A sense of sadness, yet, surrounds my whole being,
A bit of depression evokes a forced fleeing;
Memories fly beyond realms of nostalgia,
And soon turn into terrible cephalalgia;
Your flight beyond the skies toward spaces unknown,
Comes to stay in the nimbus of my mind, forlorn...!
Those plants and flowers; butterflies and honeybees,
Those streams and rocks and mossy slippery tall trees;
Those frogs and fish and clams and mussels and wrasses,
Those fine foams collected around like molasses;
All these bring to my mind those golden days bygone,
Come back, if you can, dear, that I may find new dawn...!!!
20 June 2023
Any Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
spring leads to summer
grasshopper plays unheeding
autumn comes early
Were I to ignore the ever-swelling tide
Lay my head upon the pillow unheeding,
Allowing fate alone to be my trusted guide
I would lay life’s better choices then aside
Betraying the inner voices ever pleading,
Were I to ignore the ever-swelling tide.
Seems folly to live a life whate’er betide
Without awareness of choice interceding,
Allowing fate alone to be my trusted guide.
Some take the forfeit of choices in stride,
And I should clearly illustrate the needing
Were I to ignore the ever-swelling tide.
Like building where fates alone decide
Without thought of conscientious leading,
Allowing fate alone to be my trusted guide.
Their attitude is “come along for the ride”
No notice of those who unwary lie bleeding
Were I to ignore the ever-swelling tide
Allowing fate alone to be my trusted guide.
Written September 9, 2022
The sky is news-worthy
the day brightly published,
up-town where the trees live
sunshine plays in the streets.
Later, in the wild-walking cities
there will be donuts;
racers will twirl while they hurl
rubber into smoking halo's,
but here in suburbia
only recycled and ritual sins
are dumped decorously
into well-kept trash bins.
The air is clear in God's manicured acres
where all the long dead Shaker's
had the decorum and foresight
to propagate no more of their brightness,
nor publish simple gifts to the unheeding.
A community grills hotdogs and burgers
through a late summer day,
dullsville simmers away
long into the evening crawlies,
where the glaring stars retell
bygone bedtime stories.
Birds have their moments,
capybara have moments.
Bison, bighorns, and bumblebees,
all creatures, despite the harshness
or savagery of their life
enter that moment where they quite simply
delight in just being.
The flea hops into bliss then jumps back,
back into its speck of existence.
A mite on the back of a flea
rides along into its moment also.
Just one moment
and there, there in your emptiness
you forget to be this long string of moments
swirling in an ocean of moments.
Even the plentiful and smallest sparrows
have their moment. A time of no-time
an instant free of thought when they cease to be,
yes even the ever unheeding, momentary flea.
Birds have their moments,
capybara have moments.
Bison, bighorns, and bumblebees,
all creatures, despite the harshness
or savagery of their life
enter that moment where they quite simply
delight in just being.
The flea hops into bliss then jumps back,
back into its speck of existence.
A mite on the back of a flea
rides along into its moment also.
Just one moment
and there, there in your emptiness
you forget to be this long string of moments
swirling in an ocean of moments.
Even the plentiful and smallest sparrows
have their moment. A time of no-time
an instant free of thought when they cease to be,
yes even the ever unheeding, momentary flea.
Is mistaken misconception moiling?
firmly a bleak thought is genuine?
Instead, an upswing of pluck? not
conceding trepidation
to grasp your rubber rope
hurling you firmly
from the ending
instant of
perfect
fact
the
leeway
you persuade
you aren't as far
away as you think
you are unheeding to
anticipated looming
ruin, rife with rueful worries
towering peaks and stunning landscape.
breathe deeply and whisper. in god we trust
Written: January 28, 2022
A Strand (1061) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
sleek cat watching
crouched
low-sprung
statue still
only a tail tip twitching
the birds are unheeding
feeding
two still green lakes
blink once
cat leaps
sparrows scamper up
a flurry of hurry
cat claws land
miss
cat licks a paw
hides
a quick flare
of pique
cat slinking
stiff tail high
a furry finger
mocking
the fluster
the dither and flap
cat nap
Pesky squirrels have come out to frolic
Their elders keeping a wary eye on
Feral cats perching on the redwood fence
To pounce upon the unsuspecting young
With sharp talons extended razor sharp
While their elders chatter warning signals
The younger ones prance through the fresh-mown grass
Ignoring the ever-present danger
They could dash up the huge sycamore tree
Into the safety of their birthing nest
The unheeding will miss the summer sun.
[Unrhymed Dizain]
written May 17, 2021
mother nature's lullaby soft gentle,
kids unheeding unruly
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