Wakened Poems

Morpheus sent the vision toOneiroi

Bizarre and illogical
the successions of images
unthinking in the mind
the mixture of visual
experiences influenced by
the happening's of the
wakened world
ideas, emotions and sensations

Frustrations from the debate of
two people who believed that building
a bridge over the Cook Strait was
a good idea.
His restless mind found him trouble
he dreamed of him being on
a horse
along side a woman on
her horse
with ice-cream in there back pockets
with horses following them
It's beleived he awaken from
 the dream inspired to
to build an under ground amphitheater
there he'd televise shows 
across the world

Lantern of Steadfast Stand

L-ife
E-mbraces
A-wakened

S-incerity,
A-s
L-ove
G-uards
A-ll
D-estinies
O-penly.

©bfa062025
Monocrostic (Birthday of Lea B. Salgado)

BETTER-

BETTER 

It's been better before 
But it's even more better now 
Even more so 
God has wakened us,
 in this present day 
He has graced us in a new day 
And we're in His way profitable 
The seed exploration unstoppable And we are better in Him
Than we are alone real scene 
Better in Him because
 He's on the throne;
My God is my grace and my Savior Hallelujah
My God Our Father in Him we're better 
And He never leave us alone
Heartfelt and uplifting poetic expression
Faithful  and promised right direction 

Evoking a sense of gratitude, hope, 
and spiritual growth, 
Highlighting benefits of faith and connection 
With a higher power Resurrection
Gratitude and hope "It's been better before
 But it's even more better now
Spiritual growth "God has wakened us, 
in this present day He has graced us in a new day"
Faith and connection*: "We're better in Him 
Than we are alone"
Divine guidance*: "He's on the throne
 My God is my grace and my Savior"

The poem's message is inspiring and reassuring, conveying a sense of trust, faith, and devotion.

5/16/25

Clinging to Hope: Hold onto This Anchor, Please

I have been tossed in raging tempest storms,
and dealt with life's stress far beyond the norm.
I've walked alone on nights of pouring rain,
felt blows of physical and mental pain.

I've gazed at stars glowing above my head,
tried to forget sorrowful things I dread.
Stayed in bed when the sunlight rose at dawn,
my window shades pulled tight, and curtains drawn. 

There were hungry times with nothing to eat, 
cried myself to sleep, verging on defeat.
I've wakened on mornings of birds singing...
the sound of church bells that I hear ringing.

Comforted knowing God, my Father cares,
Hope is my anchor, my burdens He bears.

Enigma

It comes from time to time upon a wind
that wafts aromas fragrant to a mind
now wakened from long sleep.
And yet, perplexed, he is resigned
to yet again concede his own defeat,
a yoked, unequal partner, when they meet
as man and muse combined.
Then unannounced, it parts and leaves him much chagrined.


----------

A 'Mistress Bradstreet' stanza - 10a:10b:6c:8b:10d:10d:6b:12a

Raw Madness

Raw is the madness
bathing me in crimson dreams -
those dreams surreal 
in which I battle 
all of the unholy beasts
I cannot fight against
when I am sane . . .

for sanity binds me 
to the ground
so that in my wakened state
I can’t manage to rise up
as mighty as a warrior
against the many dragrons
spewing their demonic fire
across a woken land.

Reality's new normality
conceals the beasts' true nature
making them seem harmless
even making them seem good
Nonetheless
I see them . . . I hear them . . .
I smell their disgusting stench

I wait for Slumber Land to carry me
to the place where wicked dragons
easily are recognized
There I can be the real me
who I am down deep inside;
I draw my sword
and seething with raw madness
I slash away

Daystar

Desolate life wanders in wanton wasteland in the dark
Assigned path for me I no longer can find, search in vain
Yearn with devout dedication God’s benevolent light
Seek its shine on me with the glow of His thousand suns
Transform at night into the shimmering star to guide me
Awakened by His gracious kindness I find way inward
Recognize in soul a lotus bloom with the sheen of His star

Darkness Over Taken By Light

Waves of terror shock my core. Divided by silence ever more.
Echoes of rocks falling from my grave, A river flowing toward another day.
As time moves on, the shelter holds us forever strong. 
Questions of madness arise and I am Wakened into this morning fright.
When I sang songs from a distance, they warned me I was only missing. 
Recall moments of oblivion, as shadows cling to my existence. 
Darkness has not overcome us and Our light guides us through this storm. 
Will justice take us toward the oceans edge, can emerald skies give us peace or will we watch the end tonight?
Hunger gathers stars that do not move. the wandering lights get me into my groove. Cast diamonds off toward the Abyss. In void I sought my answers and kings bent their knees to the roses.

Through the Fog

Through fog, through torrential tears,
Silence soothes my inner being, right
within confines of an upper room, where
skylight strummed melodies of rain.
there I was in converse with the Source;

And though I basked on goose down comfort,
The devil inside a glass pipe lingered;
but on that wintry night of envisioning
And deep soul-searching,
Distance and time were wedded as one, as
My soul traversed the land of my birth,
And I beheld vacation bible school days.

Upon my wakened psyche sat imprints of longings -
Such cravings for a fix of spiritual grub I'd not known
Yes, I spoke as my wobbly soul held hands of hope,
My dreams would whisk me from addiction.
Who knew divine intervention would bring me freedom?
Oh yes! this gift, this gift,
Twenty-two years and beyond,
I must tell someone.

*

Would You Chanso -Edited

Would you bring for me a rose bouquet?
Were I your love, that would be so sweet.
Surely it would brighten up my day.

And might you bring chocolates for me?
So sweet that would be. Am I your love -
the only one that you want to see?

And for me, a small bird would you bring?
Your love would feel like a melody
each time I heard the pretty bird sing.

Poetry from you I’d love to hear.
A melody with it too – so nice!
How I’d love to hear you sing it, Dear.

If none of these you’d bring, I’d not care.
So nice it is just to see your face.
How I would love just to have you there. . .

your face when I wakened and at night
your arms around me holding me tight.

What Can I Tell You

What can I tell you,
old friend,
having carried myself here
to be in your company,
to feel your quiet, the still
paused on your waters
as if you were listening out
for me. You must be
tired of waiting for a word, 
a sound, something 
to tell you I'm here.

As I did yesterday 
and the days before,
I have come to this place, 
closed, locked shut 
in this terrible silence
that has escaped from
the hellish chambers of my sleep 
and taken up home
in the wakened me.
I wander the hours
looking for what I've lost,
those things now repossessed 
and sunk beneath 
a thick impenetrable dark,
lying fathoms deep, 
unreachable.

So again I have come 
to be bathed in your waters
and enter the sacred spaces 
gathered here.
Feel my dumb fingers desperately
holding onto your lapping reach.
Heal me, take my silence 
and disperse it 
on the broad back of your tides,
wash my darkness out to sea.

Each Passing Clouds

The sailing ships above my head,
unimageable shapes navigating through,
as I walk the lonely stretch of the beach.
Memories stir chapters of the past.

I always wondered what my life would have been
if I took a different course, then the one I took.

That day the colors fanned out and whiffed
of redolence unmistakable that Spring had arrived.
The sound of the train had wakened me up that day
from thought as I waited for him at the station.
A considerable distance, listing to recurrent rumbling roar
of the train's vibration snaking on the rail score,
metal wheels rhythmic clatters over the rail ties the closer it neared.

He stood still for a minute before he stepped off the train.
He was tall, alluring sculpted body, in a dark brown suit
and Stetson hat, short lace up Oxford shoes; a gentleman.
He was a man I had met while in the service.

We spent a couple of weeks enjoying each other’s company, 
but the joy of it wasn’t enough.
He decided to reenlist again, applied for Officer Candidate School. 
I didn’t see him again.

His image still imprinted in my mind.



3/8/2023

A Wave of Fantasy

A wave of fantasy envelops me.
It rushes over me with such a surge
that I am caught up in sweet ecstasy
to feel my love’s caresses, and the urge
to kiss his lips forever is the wave -
a tidal wave! I’m drowning in desire.
From this desire, I want no one to save
me! Cover me, desire’s wave; rise higher!
My lover’s eyes and hands caress my face.
His fingers linger here and there -everywhere
I love for them to be. Oh, fond embrace!
I’m lost in paradise without a care.
I cry out, wakened and alone to find
the wave of fantasy has left my mind.

Feb. 10, 2023

Treasured Memories

I hadn't seen her before, 
We had a brief moment together,
Which still lingers in me,
I've had so much about her,
She had often sent her love and gifts.

I didn’t notice what I was told about her,
It was an ease discussion,
She talked about the gone days,
She talked about family values and vicissitudes,
The pains and troubles of motherhood.

I saw a woman who had battled her midnight, 
I saw a woman who had
 journeyed on a path fraught with briers and nettles,
She had so much to say,
Her eyes spoke volumes.

It was the last and only time I saw her,
She promised we would see soon,
But that day didn't open its door for us,
She wasn’t wakened by dawn,
She has gone on a forever trip.



December 27, 2022.

Priceless Poetry Contest,
Regina McIntosh.

An Early Wake Up Call

The early sun rose from behind the hills.
It was a wake-up call for me.
Full of pep, I flew atop the post 
One of many that surrounded the hen pen.
I gave my best rendition of a poultry reveille.
My lovely harem came to my call.

Some ruthless spoilt sport hated me.
Was it unreasonable to be wakened up
At such an early morning? 
A boot came flying out of the window
Hitting me on my head.

Down I fell onto the hard ground, 
Lay still, dizzy with the blow.
My hens ran around clucking, afraid.
Mine was an unyielding demanding  
For though old, I did love them all
Now I just lay there deflated 
Alas, I was past my prime.
For now, I lost the symbol of my pride!

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