Each season a new mirror rises
in our wilderness of mirrors
with their polished glass
reflecting the times we live in
we may reminisce about older mirrors
that rose in previous seasons
because this new mirror shines dimly in the darkness
reflecting a shadowy gloom
of turmoil and ugly ambiguity
from the faces of uncontrolled emotion
and unreasoned perspective
Maybe, next season a brighter mirror will rise
in our wilderness of mirrors
LITERARY FORM
the suspense
sealed
unexpected
then unmasked
imitative
with exploited variations
influential concepts
innocence
templated
remains
chronicled &experimental
intermittent
yet ultimate
but
seemingly discovered
an aspect unreasoned
yet
pure
relevant &equivalent
ingenuous
daring&
yet defying
cryptic interpretation
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
[Written with much love and bonhomie in
response to Milt’s Poem ‘Hearty Poetry Soup’]
*
Not so long ago in a land called Soup
A warlock gathered a talented group
These were the wordsmiths who writ all Soup Lore
But the warlock decided that they’d write no more
For he had been born to be ‘Soup Laureate’
A role he’d hold longer the more folk he ate
Even a warlock is sometimes unreasoned
Not much consolation…when you’ve been lightly seasoned
So here in this cauldron we boil and we bubble
Somehow I sense we’re in some kind of trouble
My hope is this as I cling to the edge
I hope I’m the meat and not the two veg
But, lo, I discover that Milt’s being mother
He’s spotted my need to write something or other
His warlock-like methods at first seemed remiss
Until this old turnip sat down to write this
But still I find one thing decidedly troubling
I look like a beetroot from all of that bubbling
My poor scalded feet are developing bunions
So at my next barbecue… Milt’s in the onions!
September
The light is angelic;
People turn to shadows, shadows to people.
The heat of Summer cools, steps aside to Fall,
The trees burst into slow flame,
Reminding me that everything must die,
But not die sans glory.
This the time when Summer's bright exuberance dies
This the time when something deep within me cries.
This the time when remembrance holds sway.
This the time when night conquers day.
This the time when the moon hangs lonely
In a powder blue sky;
This the time when the heart thinks only
Of the unknown Wherefore, the Unreasoned Why
September is the birth and death of all,
The source of all our sorrows,
The womb of our tomorrows
A wine of glory and of gall -
This the time I gather myself,
When I ask myself, as I always do -
Have I done my best?
Have my deeds been true?
To find solitude in a helpless mind
A silent new world from its judgment found
To ponder this curse unreasoned and blind
Anger is pressed when arguments abound
To find a crack in mirrored perfection
Where prideful instructions will intercede
With memories of the mind's reflection
Now old and failing and meant to mislead
Tethered to distress from the mind's mire
Trapped in its kettle of old boiling brew
To suffocate in its murky quagmire
As clarity of thought passes from view
To find each thought a dim lit realm of shades
To hold them close as the memory fades
5/13/18
contest Premiere II...Open Poetry contest
and reason fell to bed
as the yellow moon
climbed the Eastern bare-branch
trees.
and tendrils from a long-forgot fire
reached upward, skyward, starward
for what they could not grasp.
what they could not warm.
what they could not know.
what they could not...
and reason fell to dreaming
as the stars timided, and spoke
and somewhere, lost in snow,
a simile curled dry lips
and reason slumbered under
all-the-horizon somewhere in
the glowing sun
and reason was forgot as a poet woke
-ShhDragon
Your song resists the lyrics mine proclaims
by measured whispers begging Autumn’s reign
not drown this season with unreasoned pain
nor hobble Winter leaving April lame.
Just as the wick betrayed by yellow flame;
I feel a waning candle nearly slain;
reduced to nothing but a hopeless stain
in empty darkness where the strained are tamed.
And though the morning sun surrenders red
upon an apple by the skylark’s song -
don’t shadows lengthen as they glide along
until once more the naked fall is dead?
Such are the mournful notes my lips undress,
while wishing yours on mine again would press.
All life is a poem,
new stanza each day
The questions unreasoned,
leaves fall where they may
My story in long hand,
the seasons in verse
Discovery my Muse,
—with soul unrehearsed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
A stairway that leads to the white borders,
Of edges pointed where condensation forms.
Untainted transparency reflects the glaring Sun,
At the side cushions of white and brown
- a tired mind's sanctuary.
Stilted conversations fly across spilled drinks,
Become waste with a price unreasoned.
Men and women sit alike but have unlike minds,
Choke on bitter tea upon nostrils they spit.
Black souls served behind the counter,
Plastered confidentiality jealousy arises might,
For alas one hands a slice of chocolate cake
To a girl of crippling thoughts; alone, desolated
Tongue twisted around the fork her heart quickened
Tripping guilt lies on the plate she ate at previous.
Angriness burned bright fueled by unlike minds,
Reflections obvious once darkness spread fast,
Acid of sweetness churned in her stomach,
Fullness unbearable calls the unwanted desire
To leave the Glasshouse, to go home and purge.
Somehow their eyes met and he smiled
Was it wrongful for her to feel glee,
So tad yet so pure?
Salivation of intent
mouth watering, ne'er extent
I must envision
in practice risk content!
Salvation must be real
or I am only spent
to chew away the corners
unreasoned with resent!
What is then in God's order
surviving daily task
to walk some safety's border
insuring my relapse!
My actions must stay forward
in diplomatic stance
the hungry heart's affording
must emphasize ~ enhance!
Starvation as encumber
eliminating class
is not a Godly answer
but usury's repast!
The church of the eyes
By Fatmir Terziu
Those just out of the egg,
The confused yellowings
Open their wings, take an unreasoned stance,
Only their mothers understand them.
They open their light wings
Over fleshy bodies, carefully breathing.
Pressed against the blossoming buds,
The rose petals
Guarded by the thorns.
The aroma of the flowers, the varied colours, everything
Embraces the reason of love in the church of the eyes;
the prayers have started.
In the garden, the last preparations are performed
By all the living things,
It is the time of multiplications
And love has raised its head.
Over newly blossomed roses
Where the buds shade the egg hatchlings
A snake slithers towards the nest
Aiming to end
the newly born dreams.
The thorns are privy to the wrath of the sun,
Bringing from above the whole curse of the sky.
The feast restarts soon,
When the snake fleetingly burns in flame.
The life of mature minds
is aid to all silly clowns
adorn life and silently binds
and blooms each face and efface each frown.
The bluster of emotions, floods down
the mind and sheer delight glistens
on lips, and insipid nature drown
in delight, and to each incertitude silently listens
The drops of blushed desire with tinge
of fantasy and wild ecstasy drops
from minds abroad and bring
the sole being some consolation and passively props.
The restlessness of the soul
and uneasy hidden fears
and slow down incertitude rests all
and dim blur eyes literally tears.
The unreasoned thoughts perplexes and retards
and swarthy leaden eyes fails
the brimmed tear eye silently guards
but full emotioned, to visage dribblingly sails.
The mortal gazes at psyche as an urchin
with wild surmise and feel puzzled
to things unknown and admire with chin
up, full gape wide and blank eyes dazzled.
This internal conflict
I cannot fight
This is not black and white
This unreasoned spite
I cannot get through
I have tried
This message lost too,
lost in the deep wide
Two forces collide,
the pieces scattered
far and wide
Years to track down what mattered
This restless angry sea
throws its might at me
Waves of emotion
Seething ocean
What can I repair?
This loss of tranquillity
It is so unfair!
Am I losing my sensibility?
Is this damage done?
Have I lost a son?
Has the restless angry sea won?
The lost message,
floating on angry restless sea
It must be me
The things I might have done,
to make me think
Before I sink
Before my son
I cannot get through
He wont let me too
Rising sea,
beating its waves on me
This storm must stop
I am ready to drop
Seething sea,
throwing its'self at me
Waves of emotion
Restless ocean
This conflict, I cannot fight,
peace is a right
This restless angry sea,
upon storm tossed message
that is me
This internal conflict
I cannot fight
This is not black and white
This unreasoned spite
I cannot get through
I have tried
This message lost too,
lost in the deep wide
Two forces collide,
the pieces scattered
far and wide
Years to track down what mattered
This restless angry sea
throws its might at me
Waves of emotion
Seething ocean
What can I repair?
This loss of tranquillity
It is so unfair!
Am I losing my sensibility?
Is this damage done?
Have I lost a son?
Has the restless angry sea won?
The lost message,
floating on angry restless sea
It must be me
The things I might have done,
to make me think
Before I sink
Before my son
I cannot get through
He wont let me too
Rising sea,
beating its waves on me
This storm must stop
I am ready to drop
Seething sea,
throwing its'self at me
Waves of emotion
Restless ocean
This conflict I cannot fight,
peace is a right
This restless angry sea,
upon storm tossed message
that is me
This internal conflict
I cannot fight
This is not black and white
This unreasoned spite
I cannot get through
I have tried
This message lost too,
lost in the deep wide
Two forces collide,
the pieces scattered
far and wide
Years to track down what mattered
This restless angry sea
throws its might at me
Waves of emotion
Seething ocean
What can I repair?
This loss of tranquillity
It is so unfair!
Am I losing my sensibility?
Is this damage done?
Have I lost a son?
Has the restless angry sea won?
The lost message,
floating on angry restless sea
It must be me
The things I might have done,
to make me think
Before I sink
Before my son
I cannot get through
He won't let me too
Rising sea,
beating its waves on me
This storm must stop
I am ready to drop
Seething sea,
throwing its'self at me
Waves of emotion
Restless ocean
This conflict I cannot fight,
peace is a right
This restless angry sea,
upon storm tossed message
that is me
Sub Categories
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