During last night’s near full moon we had a bonfire. Here is how I experienced it.
A full moon and fireflies,
a bonfire, a cloudless sky;
beauty written
upon this night.
Upon my heart even more
the Word of the Lord .
I am awash in light.
Category Archives: Poems
Perfect Summer Day
Soft breeze is blowing,
birds distant calling,
bees buzzing on in their way.
I am awake, just barely;
seeing orange through my eyelids
on a perfect summer day.
Rise
I will lift a finger for you
I will lift both hands too
Always in my mind
I’m heavy lifting all the time
hoping I can be one to help you rise.
Won’t you rise above all your sorrow?
Won’t you rise above self doubt and fear?
If the words are hidden here
I will lift them in the clear
so that I can be one to help you rise.
I would raise the bar of your achievements
and raise every expectation fulfilled.
I cannot raise you from the dead
but I can lift you up instead,
lift you up so you can rise.
Won’t you rise above all your anger?
Won’t you rise above your pain and loss?
If love’s an aching scar
I would lift you to the stars
so that beyond all hurt I could see you rise.
You are my brother, sister, neighbor;
I love you for I love your creator.
Though each of us is flawed
and through our failings other fall
let each by each other be absolved
for we are called to help each other rise.
Let us rise above the scars inflicted on us.
Let us rise above blood boiling in our veins.
If we imitate the good
we will be free of flesh and blood
and in freedom watch each other rise.
You may also enjoy: https://www.listenviewreview.com/179-2/
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The Falling Man
The falling man
is at your feet
it’s happened once again.
His latest fail
is incomplete
like everything he’s done.
Why does the man
get up again
no one really knows;
he’s only bound to fall and then
watch out,
there he goes!
The falling man
is on his way
tumbling through the sky
a shooting star;
a hissing flash
precedes his anguished cry .
He’s on the ground
a ruined heap
of humanness and flame;
the ash of dreams
that settles on
him screaming in his shame.
The falling man
is up again
will he never learn?
Is he stubborn, is he dense,
does he just like to burn?
The falling man
is by my side
in everything I do
he’s often helped me tie my tie
and laces up my shoe.
Fallen folks are all around
watch out where you step
or all of us will have our heels
on each others necks.
The falling man
is near you now,
feel burning down his cheek
the cost of failure overcome
for you are also he.
His back is bent
his head is bowed
brow beat, upon his knees;
the voice that cracks
through blood and pain
does not concede defeat.
And you are also he.
And we are also he.
Envy
We are being seduced daily with images and messages intended to create envy. Envy destroys contentment. Raise your awareness of the perils and destructiveness of envy. Read on.
Envy
is a slow poison
in your blood.
Envy kills.
Envy is a collar
around your neck.
To this collar is fastened
a leash,
so long it disappears.
Sometimes you don’t even know it’s there.
This leash is held by a hand.
Each collar has many leashes
controlled by many hands;
some in corporate boardrooms,
others in various capitals
and other chambers of deliberation
and planning.
What plans are being hatched in there?
From time to time a hand
give a leash a jerk
and those who have not cast off the collars
respond as they were trained.
This one to buy, this one to borrow, this one to steal.
This one to sit, this one to speak, this one to take to the streets.
Envy is their collar and their leash.
Envy controls.
Envy is a paradox:
Those who possess envy
cannot be it’s master.
Yet with envy some are able
to master others.
The world rewards such as these
with prestige, power, and luxury;
but even such persons are not free
nor will they be
for though they master envy
envy remains their master.
Envy is
wealth that brings want
freedom that brings debt
food that brings hunger
drink that brings thirst
justice that brings oppression.
How much more abundant
than all of this
is the life without envy
lived.
A similar work by this author: Our Belligerent Personas – listenviewreviewhttps://www.listenviewreview.com/lyric-poetry-rich-visual-imagery/
More works by this author: Good Words and Sunbursts: Vivid Word Art and Lyric Beauty: Morris, Richard K: 9781695688285: Amazon.com: Bookshttps://www.amazon.com/dp/1695688287
Shine
I did not mean to
make you wait
to see me shine.
I was just trying to
clear the clouds
from my mind
which is a thing I need
not have done
for even on
the darkest day
the Son can shine
through anyone.
Beauty Finds Me
For Sarah on her birthday.
Beauty finds me in the shadows of the garden
contemplating beauty as I’ve often done before.
Beauty finds me on the rocks along the ocean
as the waves come rolling gently into shore.
Beauty finds me dreaming eyes wide open
day or night it makes no matter where you are.
Right now I’m sighing in the darkness
like a wistful wisher wishing on a star.
Beauty finds me in the cool of the evening
watching moonlight dance upon the dew.
Beauty finds me once again
as only beauty can
Beauty finds me
and reminds me
I find beauty
wherever I find you.
Tracks In the snow
This writer had the privilege of working with Milford artist Paul Tibedeau for an entry in the 2019 Village Fine Arts Association Poetry Art Night Exhibit and Competition. Paul’s beautiful Plein Air Painting “Tracks in the Snow” was the basis for our entry, and also became the name for the poem which I composed as my part of the competition. See more of Paul’s works at the Facebook group page Paul Tibedeau Fine Art https://www.facebook.com/groups/546573392637394 .
The Poetry Art Night (PAN) combines visual art with poetry to create a unique dynamic that is a treat for your senses and begs you to linger in the gallery of The Suzanne Haskew Arts Center (The SHAC) and take each entry in slowly. PAN 2020 was greatly impacted by the pandemic and featured a virtual exhibit. Calls for entries and tentative plans for plans for PAN 2021 can be found here: /https://milfordvfaa.org/pan2021/
My thanks to Paul and his wife Joanne, to Susan Gollon, Lish Brown, The Village Fine Arts Association, and The Suzanne Haskew Arts Center and all of the visual artists, poets, judges, and visitors for a great experience and a wonderful evening.
I heard not a sound save the wind
I saw no movement in the night
and woke to another cold, grey day.
Upon the frozen ground
beneath a sunless sky
breathing air with no scent
a human can detect,
where all seemed dormant or dead,
weary of this winter
stood I alive.
Alone.
So my senses told me.
Yet the snow bears witness
Life has not fled!
Hearts still beat,
blood still flows.
Warm bodies still make their homes
even hidden in this snow.
Even beneath this sunless sky
upon this frozen ground,
no matter how many cold, grey days.
No matter where you stand
be wearied not;
you are not alone.
Even in our deepest winter
forever are there
tracks in the snow.
For more works of poetry by this writer, click here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1695688287
Rain Over Snow
Rain over snow
wet over cold
you know
the feel of a great frigid drop
down your collar
on your back.
The chill
is not exhilarating
on this grey day;
not like a snowball fight
with hand-packed powder
exploding on your face,
or a bumpy ride
down your favorite slope
dodging trees and landing
in a heap
of flailing arms
and tangled feet.
Today
there is no play
beneath this damp
and constant drear.
Oh, my spirit!
How this weary winter weather weighs;
like corruption,
like deception.
Hour by hour
from digital skies
pours the steady shower
of human lies.
Today
there is no play
before this dread
and constant fear
as though some ancient city is crouching near
and we should resist and flee
and not look about.
Where once stood a figure fashioned ,
fully plump and jolly,
now leans a faceless, shrinking form
forlorn;
(Does it mock this people in their folly?)
the man of snow
to
a pillar of salt
transformed.
The Octopus and I
The octopus and I
met quite by accident
as a rock appeared to have more to it
than a rock
so I paused and looked and saw that reddish knob
move
ever so slightly.
I knew her intent was that I should not see her
atop that rock
in daylight
in open water
for she maintained her imitation
of an outcrop
of a rock
most persistently
and I believe as her eye saw
the recognition
in my eye
she sensed danger
so I considered her predicament
and hovered away
ever so slightly
in my way to say to the octopus
“I am no predator.”
to which she responded
by stretching out her arms
and gliding away
slowly
beneath my gaze
in open water
in daylight
from her hiding place
atop that rock.