In hushed greenhouses, a marvel grows,
A pilgrimage for those who know:
A rose unmarred by nature's thorns,
Its beauty is pure, as morning dawns.
I dreamed of its stem, a silken cord,
Coiled gently around my hands, unexplored.
My garden once bristled with spiky guards,
Till obsession smoothed those prickly shards.
From root to tip, I bred them bare,
Strength redefined in petals fair.
If thorns meant power, then power's changed,
In vulnerability, strength rearranged.
This thornless bloom, a rare delight,
Wields beauty like a beacon bright.
Its petals unfurl, a gentle shield,
Revealing truths long concealed.
When touched, it stands, unharmed and tall,
A flower-warrior, breaking thrall
From old beliefs of strength through pain,
Its peaceful stance is a greater gain.
In dreams, I graft this wonder's stem
To roses in my garden's hem.
Together we walk through skeptics' sneers,
Our smoothness calms ancient fears.
Behold the power of gentleness,
In this rose's thornless dress.
A testament to nature's art:
True strength blooms from an open heart.
Lord, which road should I take?
They look equally appealing. I have a hard
choice to make.
From where I stand,
both ways appear to be unmarred
and grand!
I cry,
“With doubt, I’ve sparred!”
Sigh!
Lord, which road should I take?
Both ways appear to be unmarred.
Sigh!
Anchored in the Aura of your loyalty, the
Breathtaking mood you enhance in me, for I
Cannot fathom the length of your love
Definitely not enveloped in envy but care
Every time that phone rings you race to it
Fervently like a worship, in offerings
Garnished with sacrifices and praises
Hammered by my hypnotic smile you hug
In, triggered by my endangering tear you
Jug ruthlessly into its source, instilling
Kindness and knowledge endlessly
Like a rugged professor, family is not
Mostly drawn out of blood, you have stood
Needlessly in my heart, because the bond
Overcomes every thorn that pierces our soul
Preciously evacuating every dead ash laying
Quietly in my heart, you have genuinely and
Relentlessly proven you are worth a million
Size too enormous to spill, your support
Tenaciously clench my wrist like a pillar of
Unraveling mysteries. You share vital
Visions and make us run with it like thieves.
Wondering amid primrose you glisten like
Xanthopetals, serenading your bloom
Yet unmarred flawlessly in Perihelion, let your
Zestful being be celebrated for being a true friend.
Our scars
self-requited
define
who we are
The pain
when it’s welcome
embedded
unmarred
Each blemish
redeeming
those choices
to blame
Absolving
our future
releasing
the shame
(‘Searching For Crazy Horse:’ September, 2010)
Oh, dear Sparrow! Fallen still
Softly feathered where you lay
As of a soldier gently eased
To sleep in dreams away
Whose dying wish was lost, was lost
In wars of yesterday
Your folded wings are nestled close
Your uniform unmarred
There is no stain upon your coat
Nor mark upon your bars
It seems from battle you emerged
Without a battle scar
For there you are composed, serene
Your earthly visage calm
No sign of struggle or of strife
No specter of alarm
Nor outward damage I can see –
Within, then, be the harm
Where broken wounds internalize
Beyond the battlefield
Where kamikaze skirmishes
Could not survive the steel
And solid soundness of the pane
Which from you did not yield
To you then, fallen warrior
In tribute, hear my prayer –
That you may soar unbounded, free
With worry none, nor care
In everlasting flight on wings
As virtual as air –
So is she seen with innocence unmarred
to shun the eyes of those taken with her
to flaunt her beauty without fair regard
her perfume to him but a sweet liqueur
lust hoisting him upon his own petard
Whilst in her heart she knows her visage lies
unable to return the ling’ring gaze
for fear that to him she is but a prize
his quest to set her innocence ablaze
knowing her sinlessness is but a guise
For she so knows the vanity of men
that they will overlook a lover’s scars
make promises and return not again
while bragging of their conquest in dim bars
regale them of her beauty and her sin
9/2/2021
Quintain (Sicilian) Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet - sponsor
Victor Hugo "Love Stronger Than Time"
Translation by Michael Burch
Since I first set my lips to your full cup,
Since my pallid face first nested in your hands,
Since I sensed your soul and every bloom lit up—
Till those rare perfumes were lost to deepening sands;
Since I was once allowed those pleasures deep—
To hear your heart speak mysteries, divine;
Since I have seen you smile, have watched you weep,
Your lips pressed to my lips, your eyes on mine;
Since I have sensed above my thoughts the gleam
Of a ray, a single ray, of your bright star
(If sometimes veiled), and felt light falling stream,
Like one rose petal plucked from high, afar;
I now can say to time's swift-changing hours:
Pass, pass upon your way, for you grow old;
Flee to the dark abyss with your drear flowers,
but one unmarred within my heart I hold.
Your flapping wings may jar but cannot spill
The cup fulfilled of love, from which I drink;
My heart has fires your frosts can never chill,
My soul more love to fly than you can sink.
How would it feel having no single woe to bear,
In that sooty heart oft stung by ceaseless tear?
Wouldn't the sobs-accustomed soul court pain,
To save those melancholic rhythms in its stain?
It's abnormal for usually teary eyes not to cry,
For that erstwhile crestfallen spirit not to sulk.
Used to endless gall it's sickly to feel brighter,
It's a health disorder to let go of that acid bulk.
And can this be the preponderant reason fair,
Fate gives each mortal breast its itching care?
Could earth's being all-free from fettering cries
Birth taboo alien studs obnoxious to the skies?
I'd wish to pass life's mean hour in gayest glee,
But if Wiser Lot considers it far much saintlier
To lead a gloomy existence by ruings checked,
Thus rightly eschewed by oily mirths let me be.
There's huge heroism in every iron dragon slain;
None in safest paths unmarred by battle's stain.
Innocence lost,
virgin hearts often get paved over
by oppression gravel pressure
Hardened thoughts laid cover the privileged lily eyes,
and the tulip pupils of those in poverty
Unjust limestone mixture is hereditary poured
into chromatic fields of vexation
Pretty flowers of childhood purity
rarely get the adolescent chance to maturity see
the petal blossoming of their rainbow dreams
Buried under hateful concrete, their survival stem
still did with tender ease lovingly rose
Asphalt desires ugly ... Purloin dotted lines
couldn’t smother their unmarred souls
Beautiful flowers always will grow
between the stony cracks in the concrete
Pollen truth blown make it cement so,
even as the tilted mortar ground hardens more
She is a scryer, a seer, prognosticator;
but no crystal ball for her...no.
She uses her blue eye instead;
a dragon’s eye.
Found in an inactive volcano,
former dragon’s lair;
three thousand years of age
still unmarred,
still functioning.
Revealing
past, present and future;
hiding nothing, eye scans time;
beware, it sees all you do.
Nothing’s hidden.
Seek out the scryer,
ask any question;
even before your first utterance,
blue dragons eye enters your mind
scanning crevasses of your brain.
you harbor no secrets.
Gazing at the portrait,time's silent gauge,
I recalled a memory from long ago.
Your youthful beauty set my heart ablaze
With figure divine and face aglow .
In days of old,you held me in your thrall
Your charm a force I could not resist.
Now as I stand before this faded wall,
I'm reminded of the joy your presence kissed.
Though years have passed the image so clear,
Of how you once captivated me,my dear.
Your gorgeous form,a sight beyond compare,
And charming visage that made my heart adhere
This portrait speaks of time's relentless march,
Yet in my mind,your youth remains unmarred .
Missing You
For Bella
Why did you have to leave me?
I still don’t understand.
Your parting was so sudden
No time to make a plan.
Your youth was just behind you.
Your spirit left down here
A young and unmarred body
And me with all my tears.
Why did you go and leave me?
So sad and so alone
Your parting left me wond’ring
What more I could have done.
When you left I grieved for you;
A secret grief, and deep.
I laughed and joked through each long day—
Then cried myself to sleep.
Why you’re gone, I still don’t know.
My heart grants you release.
All I wish for you, my love
Is that you rest in peace.
Copyright D H Loewen
August 11/18 All Rights Reserved
The man is lion of this jungle
Armies to him are humble.
He runs non stop to make things run
And never let's a crawl walk until it runs.
The man runs the world
But he would keep running in circles
Without a woman or a girl.
When he wants, he wants
When he needs, he needs
Whatever it takes he is
And he never stops until he stops.
The man runs the world
But he would keep running in circles
Without a woman or a girl.
The wars in his nerves rage
So he makes rifles to pursue relief
But only in the bossom of that which blossoms
He catches relief.
The man runs the world
But he would keep running in circles
Without a woman or a girl.
The man battles nations and comes out unmarred
He goes through hardship and comes out unscarred
But one battle he never won since Adam,
The need for another.
The man runs the world
But he would keep running in circles
Without a woman or a girl.
Finally he finds education
And social elevation
But doesn't find a good thing
Until he finds a wife.
The man runs the world
But he would keep running in circles
Without a woman or a girl.
Here we are.
In the Glass Castle.
Hurling our baby teeth at the ghosts that mirror back at us when we forget to keep our eyes shut to the flames that forged our cage.
I’m writing hymns in blood on the walls-
hoping Angels can read backward.
And you’re laughing at the way I shiver as I grow colder despite the glaring light surrounding the Incubus we built in this woken dream.
And as the Chimera rears his head-
his eyes savoring the flame.
I hum through teeth made of foolish wisdom.
Hoping they don’t crack when they collide with the truth my tongue shudders out.
But you.
You just crawl on the floor, naked and unmarred by the life forced dripping from the barriers that keep us from falling into nothing.
Collecting the enamel of our youth.
Just to toss them back.
And laugh at prattling futility of trying to break down walls that are already shattering.
-James Kelley 2018
Beauty
A rarity chanced by one who sees
But a multitude by one who looks
Its pleasing hues to calm the mind
Scenes of charm by nature’s hand
Unspoilt, unmarred in natural state
With liberty to shine and flaunt
In uncorrupted habitat
And escape an urban ruination
Where human trespass blights
The rules of nature’s kingdom
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