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Best Poems Written by Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson

Below are the all-time best Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Crescent Waltz

She slants her shining, golden glance
Across desert, mountains, rivers, plants
Greets her rising, true romance
In the purpling, opposite skies

Her lunar love, her heart’s delight
Soars to ever darker height
For each, the other’s perfect, right
It’s on their wings time flies

She seems asleep within the night
Yet always, somewhere, she’s brilliant, bright
Motionless in constant flight
Each day its own surprise

They’ll never meet – there’s not a chance
These partners in eternal dance
Of darkness, light – they both enhance
The world with their long goodbyes

***

As their crescent waltz achieves crescendo
Sans artifice or innuendo
Young children start to play Nintendo
While adults stir and rise

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Like a Rock

I carry my mother 
like a rock in my pocket 

that I just can’t seem to throw away 

It serves me 
no purpose, 
it just weighs me down 

~~~
 
When I first found it, 
when I first picked it up 
and started carrying it with me, 

I thought it so beautiful – 
I could look at it for hours 

But, like my mother, 
it never looked back at me, 
never grew warm under my loving gaze 

For the longest, I was blind to that, 
Blind to anything but the beauty, 
blind to the cold, hard, 
beyond-remote nature of the rock,
of my mother,
my stone

~~~

I carry my mother,
a thought without weight

And she’s heavier

and she’s colder

than all the stones
there are

~~~
 
By the time I recognized her 
immutable, emotional unavailability, 
I had run out of joy,
felt depleted of hope –

But I could not,
for the life of me,
stop seeking a beauty, a warmth,
inside her heart

Could not stop
wishing
that one day this stone,
my mother,
deep inside my pocket,

Might just become
its own opposite –

Change from hard to fluid,
from cold to warm

But my rock, my hard burden,
will only turn to water

When my mother
stops being
a stone

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Train, Alone

I wail lonely
in your distances
as endless trestles travel I

Know

I was here I was
present
on your horizons,
present in your town

Come, ride with me
Come, keep me 
from obsolescence, keep me
alive

Without you
Within me
I am meaningless,
blind

For how can I see, and, yes,
Who can I show,

If  not you... if not you... if not you

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Question To a Child

So, what do you have to tell me,
Oh little girl, my little girl?

Oh what do you have to tell me
that brings wholeness
to our world?

~~~

I was not born all filled with fear,
I was not born for hate

I did not arrive
upon this world
too early or too late

~~~

Oh, little girl,
you need not cry,

Your sadness is
from years gone by

Take heart, my sweet and gentle one at last our freedom has begun 
For you’re still here,
you did not die

I am you
and you
are I

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Some Limericks...

She’s out there chasing a cricket

Through bush, through shrub & through thicket

Together they hop

Fugitive, cop

But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
 

A cat whose vet took his eye

Just cannot quite understand why

His eye’s been enucleated,

3-D vision reduciated,

So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye

 
Ya gotta keep limericks loose

Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss

They’re structured, it’s true,

But they’re also a zoo

Whose tenants are all on the loose!


I frolic in fountains of words

Overflowing with serious absurds

Each poem I write

Wakes up and takes flight

Joining angels and faeries and birds

 
You ask that we write a good limerick

How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick

So I struggle and frown

Teaching  poems to clown

So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick

 
A cat with a mouth full of mouse

Brought her feast right into my house

She played with her food

Who was not in the mood

To be a banquet of mouse in the house

 
The nightmares that shadow my sleep

Stampede the proverbial sheep

Right out of my mind

When I try to unwind

I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep

 
In her search for original truth

She met people unsavory and couth

She knitted and purled

But only unfurled

Yarns told by new age and old youth

 
Cat, suddenly pink,

Drinks her water from out of the sink

She looks so absurd

Since she’s been de-furred

I really don’t know what to think!

 
If one and one is two and two is four,

And there’s only two ways to go through  a door,

Then, is earth up or down?

And, where is down town?

These are questions we need to explore!

 
A was that is an is

Tried to mind my biz

But I sent it packing,

Its presence was lacking

And I don’t have time for such shiz!


A couple who lived in Los Lunas

Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness

They’d stare at the air,

Over here, over there

And rejoice at the feeling of newness

 
A cat with a very fat gut

Found it easier to walk on his butt

He’d drag it around

Across carpet and ground

And use it to slam the doors shut

 
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,

“There’s something I think that you oughta

Do before we get old

To protect us from cold –

You oughta make the hot water hotter!”

 
The ghosts who live up in my attic

Make noises that sound much like static

I’ve tried to send them away,

But they’re here to stay,

Those staticky ghosts in my attic

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

4 Jon On Our 22nd Wedding Anniversary

Your love is
quite sensational –

Your laughter tastes
    like spring-time rain

Your tears smell
    like sweet lemon flower petals

Your voice looks
    so 
    deeply 
    majestic

Your heart sounds
    like exquisite violin and harp concertos

And your eyes!

Your eyes feel
    like early autumn sunset’s amber-gold lengthening glow

Oh, my love, your love
is entirely, completely,
embracingly

Sen-sational!

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Thunderstruck Sunshine

The clouds shook
A thick, black, very wet blanket out
In the Southeastern quadrant 
Of the New Mexico firmament,
Complete with lightning
And growling, crackling,
Massive basso-profundo sound effects,
Inviting the sun to rest,
Take a load off, 
Reeellaaaxxx! 

Abrasively radiant,
Helios glared a brilliant, heated, passionate,
Steamy smile
Into the arid monsoon skies

And refused Storm’s invitation
To lie down and go to bed

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Wind Song, With Birds

The wind
howled ice-cold, clear-sky
lullabies

and awoke the moon,
who gazed, heavy-lidded,
at the stars around her

Leaves and dust
danced sambas and pirouetted
along the desert's river,

who was shivering uncontrollably
while midnight birds
struggled to fly upstream

against the manic,
stinging, musical currents
of turbulence and wonder

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

My Shakespearean Sonnet

What Shakespeare didn’t write he left to me
In this, a brand new world and century
The English language lives and breathes, alive
A poet’s job is helping it survive

The Muses use us, soul and body, mind
To write of things that can not be defined
The subject matter always stays the same
It’s love and hate, it’s greed and fear and fame

New words evolve to name the things we see
But subject matter stays through history
Our hands the only instruments of worth
To help the Muses speak and then give birth

Their words are bridges crossing deep divides
That bring to man the peace that truth provides

Details | Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson Poem

Intro By Obit

Born January 31, 1953  – Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson – Died January 30, 2048
 

                                                                   	      
 
HeRe, tell the truth,
   liEs The Right Reverend Hudson
 reBorn almost a century ago –
 thE time was winter,
suCh long, long hours
baCk in cold, cold days
 clAndestine rape

SaFety was unim-
poRtant for women
whO were married –
noNe spoke of
suCh 
  thIngs back 
 thEn
 
  By God! This woman
   refUsed to let that
  get In the way of
 her Living –
she Excelled at life

   AlcHemist,
she Understood her birth
    diD not define or restrict
her Self, her choices, her
      lOve, her presence, or her death –  she
    kNew, with certainty:  only truth is true!


Nota Bene – January 30, 2048 is the 100th anniversary of Gandhi’s assassination
 

We Thank All That Is Good She Was Here!