Tumultuous time came unheralded
in my life that wandered in the wasteland.
When in the crushing clasp of suffering
my heart broke and writhed in pain,
I searched for the comfort of calm arms,
but found none to cling consoled.
Plunged in the stormy sea of agony,
I tried to swim through the dark night
to the safe shore afar not in sight.
I heard a voice from within tell me,
get detached from the delusive desire,
see hope dawn with the new sunrise.
My broken heart then grew wings,
flew free across the sunburst horizon
to the valley of blooming flowers,
where fragrance floated in spring air
under the cerulean serene sky,
that glistened on the grey of gloom.
In my tranquil mesmerized mind
the floral shower of beguiling bliss
drizzled with the cadence of ecstasy.
In the inner sanctum of sublime solitude
I sensed in the bud of essence the soul unfurls
piece by piece the petals of peace.
When I Google you,
I recognize the struggles and muggles you face,
I recognize the brutalities and the scars from decades of suppression and oppression which you endure;
The broken promises, failings and shortfalls;
I recognize the enormous work and journey ahead;
I see the repulse and self defeatist attitude occasioned
By broken hopes and aspirations;
I recognize the seasons and reasons for the youths failure to thrive,
In the face of monumental battles confronting them daily
When I Google you,
I recognize the unmistakable hurdles, scurdles, shuttles and scuttles;
The suppressed emotions, emissions, missions, visions, and vanquished voices of the voiceless,
The brazen helplessness, hopelessness and long worn faces
Of countless array of seen and unseen battles;
The dwarfed armoury of opportunities occasioned by lack of vision, mission, emotions to thrive, ride and drive
But,
I can also envision:
The salient, but countless unspeakable and unquenchable determination and desire in you;
The urge, surge, splurge, hidden treasures, pleasures, possibilities and the unheralded hope and abilities in humanity!
Joy is not a package deal
With smiles, screams of mirth,
It comes when the simplest things
Suddenly gives joy a birth.
Meeting an old friend
Could give you ecstasy,
Seeing the caller; as the one
That once captured your fantasy.
Seeing your pet in the house
Whom you missed when away,
Having a glass of chilled beer
On a hot summer’s day.
Joy comes without fanfare
Unheralded and promptly
It is that moment when
You begin to feel jolly.
Unheralded purple on wings of hush
Stretching to infinity
A rebel erasing lines of sight
On a lark
Of inevitability
What forces have combined
To set this immutable wheel in play?
No haste it knows
Yet its advance is constant
As the day and evening goes
It measures progress in shades of gray
‘Til one last gasp
And we are plunged to sightless depths
Tottering, blind, and dumb
While the madman laughs
They’re not for you
Nor you for them
Unwritten words from unwritten pens
Like shades of white
Blanks on a page
Unwritten words in an unwritten age
They speak in volumes
Though tongues may fail
Unwritten words that tell no tale
The poem that’s never penned
The bell that’s never rung
The hero who’s unheralded, unsung
For words unwritten
Are without heed
That none the wiser will ever read –
Unuttered words
Are words unheard
By man or beast or woodland bird
They give no voice
To mice or man
To emulate, evolve, or take a stand
And with no voice
No song to sing
The robin sighs and folds its wings –
Unspoken words
Are words unknown
In aching solitude adrift, alone
Unexpressed
And lost in time
As beacons in the night that never shine
What if much of life's lost to humdrum world?
To waste get withered when simplest of joys,
Nature's rare scene when finds none of your voice,
Innocent, pure pleasures pass by unfurled—
Beauty of dawns, dusks, daises decked in dew,
Hills and dales crying for our company,
A gentle cool breeze gets when none her due,
And goes unheralded birds' symphony,
Sea bares when breasts to embrace silver moon,
Raw passion peaks of a youthful river,
Clouds play with moon new joys to deliver,
Seasons when change, sun warms when wintry noon.
At home with the ho-hum of humdrum leisure,
Man plays blind to nature's many a pleasure.
_____________________________________________
Sonnets | 05.04.2004, revised Sept 2022 |
Poet’s note: Man seems so much at home with the humdrum of life that he is oblivious of nature’s joys that can excite and inspire him. All he has to do is to be a little more receptive. One gets this impression on seeing the world chasing the ephemeral, fleeting, and man-made joys.
I sit here relishing
a custard-filled
and chocolate-topped
choux bun.
If I had a trumpet
I’d surely blow it.
It seems that I’m
“An Emerging Poet”
and, icing on the cake,
I’ve “got potential”.
Imagine my elation
at such an unexpected
elevation. My many years
of scribbling, so long
unheralded, unheard,
pleasing but me and me alone,
and now at last the gods atone
for past disdain
and disappointment.
Yet even as I contemplate
my new persona, I surely know
a day of reckoning awaits.
In old age now, my words
grow trite and rusty.
I fear that, sitting here,
awaiting inspiration
for yet another new creation,
my rhyming days are almost done
and, truth be told, I’d rather have
another deliciously inspiring bun,
to be followed by, maybe, just perhaps,
another of my afternoon naps.
A time came unheralded
in my life wandering in wasteland,
when in the crushing clasp of suffering
my heart broke and writhed in pain,
searched for comforting calm arms,
but found none to cling.
Plunged in the stormy sea of agony,
tried to swim through the dark night
to the safe shore not in sight.
A voice from within told me then,
get detached from delusive desire,
see hope dawning with new sunrise.
My broken heart grew wings,
flew free across the sunburst horizon
to the valley of blooming flowers,
fragrance floating in the spring air
under the cerulean serene sky,
emerging from the grey of gloom.
In my tranquil mesmerized mind
the floral shower of bliss
drizzled silently with cadence of ecstasy.
In the inner sanctum of sublime solitude
I sensed in the bud of essence
the soul opened the petals of peace.
May 19, 2021
Contest : What Brings You Peace
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Quickly close the door on your past participles and advance your dead bolt on the here and now, lie your present lifemat for the doormat benefit of others that seek your presence unannounced unfolded and unheralded. Only unlock it for that measured moment near futured unless it's your unique unfettered thoughts split by zealous zippers including a wise change of ID pass keys and partisan elopers with Ego picked locksets of Superego welcomes, so all doors lead to open season consequences on every spit slighted in/on/by/for/all inhabitionless endeavor exiles----blindly reinstated. Time winds a lifeless loss of cell files as the body dies---------------your given essence flies to any/all available soft, sunrise set recompense of deeds done to all in need indeed. Please sign at the Nirvana X_________________. Please remember to take your receipt. Folly.
Upwards you gazed, poignantly painting me
like no one had before, nor has done since.
Concentric white and yellow circles. Free
of any common bearing or pretense.
I'd seen idyllic villages before -
The steepled church in sacred echo of
the cypress, looking down in fond rapport,
as olive trees embrace the town with love.
But never have I seen hills so inflamed,
nor moon so agitated and insane,
nor indigo sky eddies so untamed;
grappling to find the answers to life's pain.
Vincent, you were art's unheralded prince,
Like no one was before, nor has been since.
(an ekphrasis of Vincent Van Gogh's "The Starry Night")
"Uncircumnavigated"
Just Around the Corner ...
How did you write
your way
into my story?
A Wolf
and
a Fox
Blitzkrieg.
The rompers
romp in…
This is unprecedented, unwanted,
Silence is Golden
I walk to the beach
and back breathless
cool
you;
me,
debating always debating
internal
within
the uncircumnavigated tracks,
feral white rabbit
marks his mark
Clocks His time
in
Time
the city skyline,
recalcitrant, shading, delicious
Light in Dark Night
winks back
ridiculously knowing
winks back
How did you write
your way
into my story?
When I had already written
keys and locks into
the Chinese Puzzle Box
locked
locked
locked
and then,
unheralded
inconsequential
YOU
bourgeois
gauche calculating intellect
breeze in…
Hornet bites
honey bee
Gold
dribbling
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2019)
"When" / Elysian Fields
Certain people in our lives
Help ease the days along.
Without them, we might flounder
And might not seem quite so strong.
They often are unheralded
Yet all the things they do
Allow us, with our challenges,
To somehow make it through.
And when they sometimes disappear,
For reasons of their own,
We mourn the loss of comfort
And security we've known.
But sadly, our acceptance
Of the truth makes a demand
That our minds make peace with knowledge
That our hearts can't understand.
Written for Noreen O'Connor, a devoted former
employee of Abbott House, an organization that runs the
group home of which my daughter is a resident
(she was let go) and Dario Jaquez, a doorman in
my building I've known since 1976 (he just retired).
Unheralded, whispering,
the cold dry wind;
Smooth, unflustered, continuous,
It flew past nonchalant, unflinched.
Scoured everything with it's icy stare,
Sweeping, blanketing,
it rode on and ahead.
Big or small, stunted or tall,
it sped upon and spread.
Birch or pine, oak or maple,
Bare or confined, faltering or stable,
Hoarded upon by it's giant stride,
shivering they yeild,
To it's bludgeoning might.
Surging and surfing,
plundering, it thunders up to me
Stuttering, shaking,
Quivering I be.
Holding on to the last strand, I merely breathe,
It plays the terror, ferocious it is,
But I'll hold on my branch, my maple tree
The cold wind can trample, it can decree
I be the last leaf, it can't set me free.
ACROSTIC QUATRAIN
Acrostic quatrains have been asked for;
Can’t really believe I can do it.
Outrageously difficult task for
Unheralded poets to work through it.
So I’ll give it a shot just to see
The response I get from the setter.
I doubt very much if she’ll choose me;
Cos others will surely do better.
Question – can I write a second verse?
Usually I stop at just one;
And I wouldn’t want to make one worse
Than the one that I’ve already done.
Right, I’m half way through verse number two
And I’ve given all I have to give.
I’m struggling to see this project through;
Now I’ve really lost the will to live
9th August 2018
BEYOND GLOOM OF GREY
A time came unheralded in my life when
Writhing in the crushing clutches of suffering
My heart broke and bled in pining pain
Found no comforting arms near to cling.
I took a plunge in the dense and dark sea of agony
Tried to swim across to the calming shore not in sight
Someone from within told me to try detached and see
Hope rise like sun in the day that dawns after the night.
My broken heart morphed into a bird, grew wing
And flew in freedom over the hill and far away
To a garden of rose blooming in the sparkle of spring
Under the azure sky emerging from the gloom of grey.
In ethereal scented solitude I sensed in my core
The essence of my soul opening the petals of peace
Tranquil ecstasy then started to cascade and pour
In my serene mind the florid shower of bliss.
Let the broken heart get the wings, fly free
Flowers in the debris of despair you’ll see.
May 22, 2018
Theme : Over the hill and far away
Contest : Let Your Pen Drip
Sponsored by : Broken Wings
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