Inhale
my heartbeat slows,
blood sluggish
through stenotic vessels
unwilling to expand,
to breathe
to let blood flow
untenable, this suffocation
this dampening
it speaks of tired eyes,
of stolid limbs,
of stultified need
torpid blood,
when will you give up
your self-imposed stricture,
your closely guarded fear,
your wariness
and inhale
begged God to send beams.
He has given to my dark.
dread has been relieved.
I carry the world on my shoulders
but it's heavy, any moment now
like a toy building block it will come
tumbling down merrily merrily
all just a dream, a joy imperfect.
To be imperfect is my true joy
detached from the dreariness of life
no regrets for visions turning sour
I stand on a stage acting my roles
caring not if I forget my lines.
Nothing can tarnish my confidence
blunders shrugged off with irreverence
my deep play a ruminating ride
into casual elegance leavened
with an optimistic wariness.
Like aging, my competence conceals
patches of wrinkles, not to be smoothed
into a sense of mediocrity
not quite belonging to anyone
but myself and I am my own man.
@jjote 063021
People are hurrying, scurrying, worrying
Frenziedly squirreling clusters away.
Rumbling hypotheses riding on every breeze
Cast a malificent shadow our way.
Spreading pervasively, sneakily, rapidly,
Spanning the continents, changing its tack,
Causing uncertainty, splitting humanity
Interdependency starting to crack.
Tension is rising, it's hardly surprising that
Feverish tremors disquiet the land
Something's approaching, invading, encroaching,
An unwelcome visitor, wholly unplanned.
.........................
Panic diminishes, wariness finishes
Neighbourly kindliness starting to spread,
Care for the elderly, healthy mentality
Sense of engagement and friendship instead.
Atmosphere's changing, the ranting and raging
Uncertainty, death and disease have left town.
Nobler priorities flavour communities
Stage set for change as the curtain comes down.
13.03.20
Coronavirus Covid-19 Poetry Contest - sponsored by Team Poetrysoup N/A
When we see the ww’s we think different things.
Some of us see wrestlers. Others visualize internet sites.
What about zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzz s.
when you see zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs do you think of rickrack?
Or is that an old fashioned trim that is no longer visualized at all?
Maybe you see the zzzzzzzzzzzz s and think snake.
I have seen that pattern on one, who was curled up in my garden.
When I see w’s, I see witches, warnings, wariness, and waywardness.
Poets have a way of seeing things that others cannot.
This is why I guess I will be a poet now.
My world is sleeping and fragrant
with its musty green scent
on a cool and quiet morning
I run, therefore, I am.
I’m followed by a moon shadow
until the morning light.
The dark to dawn embraces me
with rays that bathe my eyes.
The rabbit, deer, coyote are
my ever present companions
watching me with wariness
on this bounding arid journey.
The sun is rising higher and
now running is my teacher
of what I can endure when
I am one with mind and body.
Oh, red mountain majesty please
transcend me to another place.
My thoughts drift in and out like
moving clouds in clear blue sky.
I gaze intently at my silhouette
as I focus on my feet, my breath,
my running meditation.
On the corner of Shining Star
a sweet breeze comes to save me
as the ravens lining up
seem to point which way to go.
On a road called Purple Sage
the signal for the end where
water never tasted so luscious
and now I own the day!
This is the joy, the Zen of running
on lonely paths and happy trails…
I run, therefore, I am.
Exquisitely composed
poised in the sun
flick of white tail
soft shafts of light
late summer sun
Motionless-
moored to a sea
of tall meadow grass
A broken spell
conveyed in the breeze...
a haze of unwell
a snap of a twig
a rustle of leaves
moment's unease
Wariness, eyes
lifted from grazing
darkening skies
Day's shadow dwells
fraught with unease
Taunting of trees
taut muscles, seize
ready to flee
Rounded eyes
mirrored glass
fresh scent of harm
sense of alarm
One moment
exquisitely composed-
Another moment
honed ...composed...
dashed into shadows
exquisitely closed
______________________________
5/19/15 For Thomas Martin's Contest "Show, Don't Tell"
Dreams Distant
by Odin Roark
The child slumbers as well
Eyelids aquiver
Like his father’s
Synchronicity remaining awake
Such innocence
Carries wariness as well
Kicking away covers
Giving escape to the spirit
Often held captive
By parental clinging
How difficult for some
This acceptance of a person’s selfness
Challenging such identity
As if it were not progeny’s to possess
Exclusively
Not unlike love
Such emotive singularity
This unique cosmic enigma
Knows well it must first unto itself be true
Belonging to no one
But itself
In the power of its will
Torturous sleep sometimes
Renders today’s yesterday and tomorrow
Seemingly averse to moving on
In truth
Closed eyelids shelter destiny’s assimilation
And professed separate souls remaining silent
Dream of one another through the distance
Continuing their smile of oneness without end
So morose and so lonely my sordid path is
lost in all this colossal wreck
a beauty spot in all this, that which mar the facet of earth
so destitute the walks of my path, with footsteps traced back
by the lingering stench of ancient fossils and putrid flesh,
the essence of life spelt from wars fought for the affairs of the heart
for love and hate
yet still the sound of tramping dost my life compose
for since this world I first eyed with wariness and upon my knees
i preyed upon my foes, crawling and stalking the shadows
away from this world that saw the babe's innocents
as something to impugn
stalked away from the eyes of the whole tumult
for no such rancorous ways ever beget acquiescence
nor do I seek merit in the eyes of scorn let alone
A life in the wombs of demise.
The eye spies imperfections
with wariness and care
the heart that owns the eye
sees only beauty there
Tides of electric air
adrift in flawless flesh
soul to soul, lips to lips
ensnared in sinful mesh
I’m just a shell of what I used to be.
Now you say I’m beautiful and innocent,
Cheerful and sweet.
I may be those things now
But blinding beauty, whitest innocence
True cheerfulness and sweetness like pure sugar…
Those are what I used to be.
Before reality laid its icy grasp on my shoulder
Shattered my rose-colored glasses
And replaced them with a jaded view.
Before cynicism was my companion
And darkness entered my world.
Innocent childish trust replaced by wariness and suspicion.
Beauty torn down by rejection and
Replaced by self-consciousness.
Altruistic sweetness tinged by desire.
And lighthearted cheer shrouded in caution,
Overshadowed and stifled by disappointment.
And yet they still call me beautiful and innocent,
Cheerful and sweet.
If you like me as I am now
Scarred and broken by the world’s ways
How much you would’ve loved me
Before I was tainted.
Passion arrives in his sudden embrace
It speaks to me in his smile and his eyes
It shows in his fiery touch and his face
wooing me, gently, to my sweet demise
With every kiss desire gains more ground
to conquer the wariness of my heart
should I be sure it is love I have found
I fear my need for him as our lips part
My fear leads me to question the wisdom
of one heart relying on another
It's not smart to wager the kingdom's heart
on a few sweet kisses from a lover
As I protest, he leans in to dismiss
and destroy my argument with a kiss.
I wake up this morning
My mind a turning
‘T is my last day of twenty
Thirty is mine at the next dawning
Yet without check spurs on the time
‘T seems teen days were yesterday
Yet fifty’s days seem not far away
Methinks, I’m plagued by aging
Man I’m still to commit by engaging
Yet without break runs on the time
Time flies by in so swift a manner
Where it proceeds to, I always wonder;
A decade only of childhood laughter,
Two decades only of careless chatter,
Still without halt spurs on the time
All gone now and in its tracks
A wariness of life’s path untried.
I think of my aspect in two score years time,
Crinkled with wrinkles, and crooked by time.
Yet without rush moves on the time
Nay, prior to the close of life’s batters
Will I think again the good joyous times,
When all my care was for eating on time.
Ah, it’s past midday and I’m yet to dine
Yet without fault travels the time
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