Nothing straight, even sightly
Hangs now over me.
As twisty, Moonah-shaded
Which gouged path below.
So awaits, and breath-stilling
Hot-blown, face, writhing
For prospects, unseeable
What, sea-cool, must show!
bet. aireys inlet and anglesea
One of these days
we will be apart—forever.
Just not today.
Today we sit together,
quietly reading,
maybe playing a game,
but together.
The future
is out there
in front of us,
unknown,
unseeable.
What it holds
will be seen—someday,
just not today.
AMERICA II
We are young, it is true;
In the long walk of history
Our days were filled with the improbable,
The impossible
The ineffable, the inevitable.
High in ideals, yet blindly stumbling
Towards some unseeable future
That may be a Heaven or Hell
We've seen ourselves as a City on a Hill
The whole world might look to;
A model for the past to pull itself up to;
A dream for those who dare to dream
Of betterment, of rising above
The simpler satisfactions
Their forebears accepted.
Yet in trying to get there
We embraced Manifest Destiny,
Warred against ourselves and many others,
Raised gleaming monuments
Through the sweat of the faceless enslaved.
Then rose above these things,
To save, when it needed it,
The whole of the world from a great spreading darkness
Even while remaining in darkness ourselves.
What can be said of this wild Youth
Come self-announced on history's stage?
What does the Youth want?
What does the Youth say?
Can the Youth live up
To the Promise it claims to bring?
Time will tell,
But Time, for now, holds mute.
AMERICA I
Born of rebellion, this place.
Yet what, precisely, does it manifest,
If anything?
The dross and dregs,
Stumblings of a much older world
Found their way here,
Carried across a wide, careless sea
That brought them to their New World
Full of desires base and profound
A New World
Carved and shaped
Wooed and won
Wildnesss beaten back by souls as wild
Flying the Pandora's Box
Left carelessly open
From its beginning, this place would be
A birthing-place of turmoil, triumph, beauty, blood
Madness and mad hope
Beginnings tied to unseeable endings
Gain and loss
Pride and shame.
The old world sent a great storm to these shores
That swept and scoured,
Shattered and rebuilt
That never stopped,
Roiling and seething,
Even to this very day.
Lost in the mist, isle of the empty
Thoughtless abyss styled under six feet
Reminiscing below the dark palm trees
The moonlight over the horizon fog
Unseeable, a thousand eyes abroad
Repeatable mistakes inside the smog
A longship drops anchor swords drawn in hand
The sands quake with danger, fear intwine with man
Death is a painter, and life weaves it's plans
Poetic justice, for those trapped in lies
Rehabilitate, prisoners of mind
What do angels taste when faced with divine?
Finding acceptance within heart and soul
All embellished to let go of control
Just Because
It's A Stranger
'Just Because'
That Just Is.
Just Because:
This Happens Here,
This Happens There...
In Ordered
Essential
Fundamental
Pairs.
Always,
Everywhere,
Constantly...
Perfection Maintained.
Unseeable,
Unseen...
Without It:
There Cannot
Be Change.
Without Change:
Nothing Can
Be.
Perfect.
Always.
Just Because.
*Given*
-Gray Squirrel
10-20-2024
Cold air breeze flowing over the shore, as an lifesaver floats on the glistening water illuminated by the sun, most memorable during the day as many above have fun
Frightened of the ferocious sea-beings, admiring the calm, but unaware that the center of attention could all be placed in your palm,
Lurking beneath the blue, a scaled blue tail unseeable from the surface,
Hides the dark hues that is seen in the trenches as worthless
What is hidden in one’s heart could never be imposed,
With false memory and prevalent words under the sea cannot be disposed
Rather it stays at its peace surrounded by creatures living within,
Living among its terrible ocean trenches submerged with a spin
Eyes deep as the sea darkened with ecstasy,
That it’ll propel your gaiety through lunacy in glee,
Whirred through unbreathable currents which you’ll myopically see
Such a creature below is redundant for two hands to be.
in faces lined like glaciers
sometimes there's loneliness
that cuts a tow line to safety
air of flux and hostility
over dazed eyes
turbulent modernity
sometimes we yearn for elegance
like a warm shoulder
its edge of acceptance
fitted with precision
yearn to heal a heart in straight jacket pain
to know motivation that punches above the weight
of a fragile frame
to relish the faith of a welcoming hand
to find a community
that bends the bar of one's cage into bracelets
shuffled like a deck of cards
lives seldom remain still
yearning to break an existence slurred by off color jokes
reaching for an unseeable light
a homeward wish
smothering woe
Not like heaps of sands
resting on barren lands
or herds of animals of all kind
that with ease widely we find
On the surface even a bit
you might not see of it
often you have to dig deeper
to know who is its keeper
For some it is a rare virtue
that’s too good to be true
while some believe in it
as a thing of great grit
A pinch of it can do wonders
and quieten the loud thunders
make storms retract their paths
and let souls forget their wraths
In grim times it might also crumble
but that’s when we need to stay humble
and fill in our hearts a few of its shreds
to embrace its unseeable divine threads
A little faith is all we need
to sow in the sweet seed
and see it come to bloom
in all our moments of gloom
in all our moments of gloom
I can hear the mouthless wind,
loudly howling outside my window.
Its wingless unseeable form whipping through the leafless trees.
Ridding the branches wildly,
blowing falling flakes onto every available space,
and covering them in whites,
giving them admirable shapes.
Oh what a magical sight to gaze upon indeed.
And although I happily enjoyed watching the snow soundlessly gliding down,
kissing the ground softly and forming beautiful landscapes,
the harshness wind is toothlessly bitting through my bones with its frigid coldness.
So I think it’s time to turn up the fireplace for some heat to my chilled bones,
and maybe a cup of delicious hot cocoa to warm my soul.
Because
baby it is cold outside…
Fin Chuuk
Love can shine like salvation.
Love lights unseeable torches
When heated, love evades judgment.
It gives breath to the sweetest sounds.
Love makes reasons and it breaks reason.
Time to drop the mask, no more pretending
This pain only creates new beginnings
I will come back to myself and
Sunder the emptiness with a pendulum ticking
Even if the world gives me apathy,
My shrouded dreams will carry me
The unseeable just thrills me,
I'll come back to myself
It's ok, I can say what I feel
It's ok, I don't have to be perfect
I'll go take revenge on the world with my smile
I can hear the mouthless wind
loudly howling outside my window
Its wingless unseeable form whipping through
the leafless trees
riding the branches wildly
And blowing falling flakes onto every available space
and covering them in white giving them
admirable shapes
Oh yes indeed
what a magical sight to gaze upon
And although I happily enjoyed watching the snow soundlessly gliding down
kissing the ground softly and forming beautiful landscapes
The harshness wind is toothlessly bitting through my bones with its frigidness
So I think it’s time to turn up the fireplace for some heat for my chilly bones
And maybe a cup of delicious hot cocoa to warm my soul
Because
baby it is cold outside
Akkina
2/1/21
Invisible shackles,
Untouchable burden;
Silent noises,
Unseeable vision.
Am I in a prison?
Or left stranded under a shade?
From fruit of my poison,
Of all efforts that were made.
Hear Ye! Hear Ye!
Listen and remember!
My rights are your rights,
Your failure is my countdown;
Everybody shares the same colors,
Greyish black and white stripes.
CLIMBING
I try to climb the cascading garlands
Over-tossed from unseeable high points.
Oh, there! By a squint of the eye! A random,
Compelling break in the continuum allows
For a hint of the divine and, these delighting
Garlands — braids of faith, no doubt released by
The little hands of the angelic putti,while reciting
Limericks of heaven, and letting sound their soft smiles as they send below their gathered
Strings of blooms. To temp us...No...Direct us on
To further passages for souls praying for a reach
To eternal gates and gardens. There
Our longings are planted and watered by
God-collected tears. So,these are
The garlands of our lives, which we endeavor to
Rise upon again with now stalwart legs, and a full
Addressing of souls — awaiting splendor.
This trying to climb requires a strength
With a softness...only souls may inspire:
The breath to endure.
*******************
(C) Sally Young Eslinger 9/9/20
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