Monthly Archives: September 2013
Let Me See, Too!
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Heart renderings poured into word-weaver’s mold
Is the poet’s bent,
Striving to paint a picture
And give the words some tint.
Overwork not the adjectives.
Adverbs wisely use.
Inverted sentences,
Please do not abuse.
Literary critics, established,
Sometimes blind,
Cut and rend, omit and blend —
How dare we waste their time!
Describe then an ocean blue,
Green of stately tree,
A bird in flight, dark of night,
So that I, too, might see.
Then change colors on the brush,
Paint with unwavering pen,
Color falling rain, misery or pain,
Then paint the wind.
Squeeze those words, twist them tight.
Turn them inside out.
Make the painting clear as light.
Make the message shout!
Make the picture come alive.
Strip away the veil.
Let my fingers see it, too,
As they trace the upraised Braille.
Leviathan
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Hear then a tale of questionable strategy
Involving a wondrous creature.
Results were almost near tragedy,
Species extinction, Nature’s own sad teacher.
Their existence brings about mixed feelings
As they quietly pass on parade,
Slowly plying changing ocean currents,
Passing near man unafraid.
Gentle and playful, they offer no cause
For unfounded fear or alarm,
Never inflicting pain in their watery domain
While displaying whale-loads of charm.
The solution was always very simple,
Very easy to understand.
You see, while we’re able to travel our oceans,
They’re unable to travel on land.
Then let’s leave these great gentle wonders
In care of Neptune’s safe keep
To breed and play, live and die, peacefully,
Inside blue marvel of their deep.
Levels
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Speak diligently, strive hard
Seeking to find
Higher truths, awareness levels…
Always use your mind.
First level, fresh mind,
Everything new, white as chalk.
Learned to speak, began to think,
Slowly learned to walk.
Second Level, awkward years,
Body strong, learning right from wrong.
Having fun, wild free years,
Lackadaisical attitude, trying to belong.
Third Level, maturity, responsibilities,
Striving to fulfill our dreams,
Different places, varied faces,
Drowning in waterless streams.
Fourth Level, yearning yet stable,
Successful, empty, desire burning.
Appreciation of art, beauty, humanity,
Thoughts always churning.
Fifth Level, consciousness abides.
A foreboding feeling,
Something surely missing,
Emptiness, realization stealing.
Sixth Level, words like stone,
Deep impressions stand alone.
A deep, soft voice says, “Welcome,”
Chill inside my bones.
Seventh Level, deep voice, all-wise,
Henceforth and upwards is paradise,
Length, depth and breadth,
Measured with cubic rod.
Speak with praise forevermore,
Wrapped in Love,
Praise His Holy name for
You now speak with GOD!
Awakening
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Tightly closed against morning chill,
Holding essence tight like in-drawn breath,
Waiting for an unknown time
On an invisible clock to steal.
Who can fathom such silent wonder,
But stand in awe and ponder?
Majestic in crawling, slow motion,
Thrilling beauty to overflowing portion.
Arms now unfold in radiant bliss,
Greeting sunshine with a fragrant kiss.
Translucent petals, gorgeous disclose,
Sun’s warm rays now caress the rose.
Pain
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
It hurts! It hurts!
I know it’s pain.
I know! I know!
I’ve been told by my brain.
Through jangled nerves,
The message comes loud and clear.
Eyes will see the flowing red
Which will bring me fear.
Stop the red quickly,
Before life runs its course.
Stop the red! Stop the red!
Stop it at its source.
I’ll send a message back.
I’ll send it up the line
To tell the ole brain quickly,
“Everything is fine.”
See how I cope
With you now, “Ole Pain,”
I’m completely safe
And ouch-less, sane.
I stop the red and shun you,
Completely unafraid.
I’ve discovered a medical miracle —
The ouch-less Band-Aid.
Tribulation
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Days of turbulence, tempest tossed,
Ability to think, reason, logic lost.
No peace, wars, unfounded fears,
Hunger abounds, homeless, flowing tears.
Scripture disregarded, rights ignored,
Pervasive living, greed, joy ignored.
Foretold from ancient past, no attention paid,
Foundations crumbling, destructive path all laid.
Continue onward then, soul closed to light,
Ignore the homeless, hungry masses, struggling in life’s fight.
Close eyes and ears in ignorance, ignore the coming shock.
Look not for the Good Shepherd, coming for His flock.
My Dream
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
I dreamt of hunting buffalo
And long grass shimmering in the sun.
I saw cold, crystal clear mountain streams,
With its banks bordered by wild flowers.
Away up high, almost a speck against the light blue sky,
A bald eagle surveys his realm.
Although it’s spring time in my dream,
The distant, hazy, purple mountains
Still wear their caps of white.
The air is clean and fresh
And filled with the smell of growing things.
The white-trunked aspens
Keep sentinel in their quiet beauty.
Life is simple but hard.
Man fulfilled his dreams by the strength of his hand,
Sweat from his brow, and cunning of his mind.
He became one with his surroundings.
The world was sustained by natural order,
And it was good.
When I awoke,
I realized that I’m but a dinosaur
Transplanted into a modern time and world.
wfosterwelborn 