Voluminous Poems

Hair Fight

She gathers her arms for her nightly fight
to do battle with her hair, to “get it right”
she’s been cursed with unruly, super fine hair
that won’t cooperate and flies everywhere. 

Oh, to have thick, voluminous hair
so sheik, so silky, so shiny and fair
spun layers of gold, or deep auburn flair
or lovely chestnut tones, “fabu-lair”!

But, alas, unwanted whispy is she
as she settles into her pin-curl “soirée”
she wrestles her head scarf to keep it tight
and prays it “stays put” while she sleeps at night. 

In the morning, her second round fight resumes
unpinning her curls, knows they’ll fall flat real soon
next comes the teasing, the crimping, the spray
knowing the volume won’t last half a day. 

Then sighing, with hand mirror, checks every spot
every turn, every angle, she does this a lot
I wait for my mother to finish her hair
If “it isn’t right” we’re not going anywhere!

Overlooking Lovers

"She reassured me with an unfamiliar line."
Love is a mystery school, yearning for sages
well able to reckon sixes from nines.
True wits should elect sin's disbursements
rather than reflect on love's scenes of rushing bunglers.
Love is sick, blind, unkind. Aren't we cruel?

She chided: brush your flapper, dying blue 
between that pair of cheese crackers.
Remove the Devil's Pitchfork from your hair.
Doubling as Dracula, your zeal repealed
by loving an unpersuaded other.
Stay not inconsolable, my weaning one! 

She knelt beside me, interpolating my orations.
Entreat for veritable blindness to take better blame.
Apathetic to any flame, resisting even sipping sunshine
interred in the long night of voluminous drapes,
pray for cardiac arrest to efface 1700 hours of shadows.
Perhaps, pray you would love me, and I shall say something of it.

I Wish I Could Leave

I dreamed about the snow-topped
Pines of Michigan 
Wishing I Could Go Back
And See Them Again

I dreamed about the voluminous
Mountains of California 
Wishing I could go Back
And take someone out to Dinner

I dreamed about the scenic
Seascapes from Mexico 
Wishing I could go Back
And have one of their native tacos


I dreamed about cosmopolitan 
Toronto in Canada
Wishing I Could go Back
And view a city, it seems, without a flaw

I dreamed about 
A better tomorrow 
Wishing I could go forward 
And travel instead of being in sorrow

Soulmate

Teasing eyes that I can never get out
In my reveries, they haunt forever
Voluminous euphoric feelings sprout
And engross my musings without sever

Spend time gazing at the infinite highs
Your enthralling phiz pervades the blue screen
Decipher the transmitted from your eyes
Profound silence beat the heartstrings umpteen

Enchanting voice resonates in my heart
Droops me into a hallucination
Wish to soar leaving the whole realm apart
Quiet moments with exhilaration

Take the stand of Lord Byron to admire
You, as it's the lone thing that I aspire

Dead End

A random road wanders across the desert
as voluminous clouds chase the rising sun 
nary a sound can be heard, save for the
whipping wind and clicks of insects. 

The yawning horizon stretches out
reaching towards a vast, expansive sea
its crystalline beauty is but a deceptive liar
for death surrounds her ever lapping shores. 

Almost uninhabitable she is
like a barren womb in want
her waters are lifeless, a fluid grave
bearing witness of her desolate decay. 

Fish carcasses tell their solemn tales
along her distant, lonely shores
their bony apertures are splayed and pecked 
hungry seagulls circle, hunting for scraps. 

Relentless winds are spreading littered
whitewashed bones, causing them
to tumble about
conjuring up a false sense of life. 

Now the moon is rising
as acrid air hovers over the sullen sea
the winds seem to shout, “go away”
a dull emptiness prevails. 

The blackest night, save for the moon
descends upon this accursed place
where the bony beach rattles its lifeless tunes
along a haunting shoreline
that no one wants to see
where no one wants to be
beside the Salton Sea.

PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ADMONISHING US TO FEAR HIM REVERENTIALLY

July 20 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Proverbs 24-26

Key Verse – Proverbs 24:21 My son, fear thou the LORD and the king: and meddle not with them that are given to change. 

PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ADMONISHING US 
TO FEAR HIM REVERENTIALLY	

Praise be to God for admonishing us to 
fear Him reverentially to overcome:
Mischievous persons with their meddling pestilence
Mishandled pressures due to mocking pleasures
Mismatched plans midst misbehaving posture
Mistaken plaudits caused by mystifying ploys
Misjudged pursuits along melting poverty

Proverbs 25:22 Praise be to the Lord for 
rewarding us for our:
Heart of honour
Hope against hell
Help for the helpless
Hunger toward holiness
Hatred against haughtiness
 
Proverbs 26:10 Praise be to the Saviour for 
rewarding us toward:
Victory from being a victim
Venture that vies over void vices
Virtuous vanquishing with our vow
Valuable vigour against vicious vanity
Valiant voyage against voluminous vexations. Amen!

July 20, 2024

Forest Mysteries

Soon the forest would reveal its dark secret

Poems are written. Music is composed. Ballets are staged.
In enacting suspense-filled plays, each creature is engaged.
Mysteries, like petals of blossoming flowers, unfolded.
As sketched by nature, the shapes of plants and trees are moulded.
Midway through the brawl for existence, the fittest survive.
From Mother Earth, life-giving nectar, all creatures derive

Do trees pay tax as per their heights, and do beasts as per strength?
Which creature has measured the forest's height, breadth, width, and depth?
What serenity between drops of the flowing fountain!
Isn't there a transmission of peace between each mountain?
The food cycle and water cycle roll like the planets.
Prey and predator eye each other in forage facets.

Owls, bats, hawks, frogmouths, and nightjars share nocturnal secrets.
Some feed others. Some feed on others. There are ruts, no riots.
The gentle breeze soothes the soul, though the gales disturb
Love lives long, between the strongest tree and the weakest herb.
Doors of forests, yet, like puzzle-filled caves, are numerous 
Amidst sunshine, unknown nooks in it are voluminous

Nature

Presumptuous to think
that all should be subject
to man’s will – We highest
on the Pecking Order! Till
nature shouts her feminine trill,
has her monarch fill, clawing
back, with undressing wind,
voluminous waves, and
impaling chill -- 

For no man can command
the summer’s end,
nor the fall’s exact rate of exchange

though we give such cycles a day
Mother will have her own whimsical
way, reminding us, that she is forever
wild and free...seeming a season abrupt
or a never-ending frosting eternity….

Vanilla

Vanilla rolls off the tongue,
silky like sheets,
soft and smooth,
sophisticated,
satisfying,
sweet.

Vanilla poured into a bowl -
the waft to the nose,
a high from the extract.
Sensational something
stirred up with a wooden spoon.

Vanilla pairs perfectly
with chocolate.
My personal sate
is sprinkles on soft serve
in a sugar cone.

Colorful paintings
cling to vanilla on walls,
as clouds to baby blue skies.

Vanilla rugs are decadent,
don’t bear well with kids and pets.
Clean bare feet keep them neat.

Vanilla, a fan favorite,
vehemently defends itself,
Voluminous and valuable.

Gaia

O' Mother
Beloved mother

With your voluminous beauty

From majestic mountaintops to verdant countrysides
From mammoth oceans and seas to quiet lakes and ponds where ducks reside
A fertile basin that gives and keeps on giving 
Organic love that's naturally comforting and nurturing
Winsome trees abound; yes,  I see regal redwoods and sublime pines
A haven for birds and squirrels
Man has his place there too; there he can sit and have peace of mind
And oh,  the lovely,  colorful flowers for industrious bees
Redolently spawning life through a spring or summer breeze

O' Mother
Beloved mother

With your alluring,  comforting arms
Tenderly drawing man and all life nigh your
bosom with resplendent charm

The Oak Tree

A gnarled lone oak tree
grew in the middle of voluminous nowhere,
amidst vast stretches of citron corm fields,
a by-product of an old man’s weird whim.
It proved quite a memorable playground,
For when I was small it was pure delight.
Oh how I loved to climb up
towards an azure sky
feeling for sturdy branches,
imbibing the smell of fresh-grown leaves.
At times I would listen to the wayward wind,
as it moaned in isolation
amidst lush green branches.
Yet when storms struck
I shied away as the winds howled
and thunder rumbled around the top twigs
of my old oak tree.
 
The last time I was there 
I was not alone.
Handsome was tagging along.
He was not interested in the old oak tree
That's when I began to hate him.
And just to prove my point
a sudden change of weather
and heavy rain fell hard.
We ran to the car but the doors stuck.
To shelter under the tree was dangerous.
Lightening zigzagged above.
The place became cursed.
Finally Handsome opened the car
and we sped away.

I never met Handsome nor visited the oak again.

Leaving Minneapolis

At 10,000 feet we rose through soft, voluminous canyons---
Dark billows whose slow swell was undisturbed by our passage.
At 20,000 feet, the first few glimpses---
Three short days, and the promise of Her full beauty is fulfilled,
And yet She is shy---
Below, patches of dull silver offer glances, graces---
A lake, a river, a pond, a stream---
Slyly She slides, slips from one silken scarf to the next---
She teases with hints---
Then, for three breathless seconds,
She swims boldly before me,
Her bright beauty bared---
All this time, with feet planted on Earth,
I have watched Her rule the heavens
And longed to embrace Her---
And now that I approach Her home,
I find Her down there, where I was---
Still laughing gently---
Still delicate, my deliciously desirable Diana---

Sea

The wondrous sea captivates my soul
as I sit beneath the malingering palms
   I can close my eyes
and dine on imaginations from its offered sounds
I can listen quietly to the soft throb of the waves
   as they rush to shore
changing from dark blue to light blue to white
before vanishing in the sands of the shore

along a red thin line on the horizon
a sailboat slowly moves
the sails are pushed by the wind toward the sunset
pelicans glide in the distance
between voluminous clouds of white and gray
then fall like spears into the sea
seagulls arrive like thieves to steal fish
their squeaky sound belies the struggle for life
between the hunter and the hunted

the scent of salt air fills my attention
with every breath I take
I look out at the sea's great expanse
and have a sense of smallness
   filled with wonder

the power of all this I feel deeply
my soul touches time and space
   in a union of serenity
from the sea's immeasurable beauty 


4/7/23 Writing Challenge "S" Words
sponsor Constance La France
    "SEA"

From Afar

From afar I have witnessed
Bonds that are strong
Inseparable from one another
Together, like the beauty in nature, they belong

Like the wind in a summer's breeze
Like the voluminous water in the sea
Completing each other
One in the same - naturally

To try to separate would be pointless
To try to remove or part would be insane
It would be akin to trying to get dry
By dancing, in a down pouring rain

True love is the same
With the synced rhythm of two beating hearts
What loving reciprocity has brought together
Is like a Rembrandt’s masterful work of art

However, love must be nurtured
Woven carefully, with intention, like a vineyards vines 
It’s in the special care and attention
That determines the quality and resilience overtime

From afar I have witnessed
A young love that is true and strong 
Inseparable from one another
Like the beauty in nature, they belong

These Eyes

With these eyes,
These mundane eyes, 
Less I can see,
Much I can't comprehend,
I'm by a stream,
I fetch according to my vessel's size,
Water falls,
It's music I'm left alone to decide,
I'm given a voluminous book,
I'm asked to read between the lines,
A parchment unfolds before me,
Its words are deep mysteries,
Wonders to my sight,
I need to fight,
I need to quest,
To search out its meaning,
I'm in a world,
That doesn't show all,
A tutor that doesn't teach all,
Some say it's an absurdist world,
I'll say it's a mystery ball
I'll walk through each dawn's door,
Anticipating heaven's light.



January. 20, 2023.

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