Strength

Quiet pours down, light
As the lock of hair
Grabbed and swirled round
Index finger and thumb;
Numb, numb, wilted
In the stifling of late day
March heat, barely able
To forego the house,
Walking buoyant dogs
Whose muscles ripple
Like a wake under sinew.
Ensconced uneasy in bed
Never invalid, never stop,
But the strength, it erodes,
Still, that is a no; push, go,
Various ways to give the ankle
Purchase to convey upright
This reason that is a being
Unwilling to acquiesce to
Anything against progress
Fighting always pain, doubt, fear,
“Begone, leave this one be. Strength
Remains, life retains, love stokes
The vision, all abides, stand – over-ride.”

The Prompted Positive Poetry prompt for today was “Strength.”

Perceive

Turn yourself around
Look to see,
Not what you want,
Recognize
The depths of reality.
The picture
Is clear if your heart
Is engaged,
But it is much simpler
To only observe
The surface.
Vision lighted by love
Is seldom
Encouraged by those
Who maintain powers
Over bulk humanity.
By grouping lots
Together
The individual is masked,
Hidden behind layers
Too numerous to comprehend.
Persons alone
Dealt disadvantageous
Circumstance, pain,
May be maladapted
To herd mentality.
Every heart beating
Real,
Soul aching to be filled
Has ability, creativity,
Beauty enough
To withstand trouble,
Triumph and overcome.
Look to see
Inside the spirit
That infuses life
With all the joy
One chooses
To partake,
We are beloved,
Let us celebrate.

This poem was written during the morning’s wee hours. The one previously posted was written in daylight. My schedule encompasses much of the night. The fact I sleep so little is a bit of a bother.

Driven to Prosperity

“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
As I sit on a tan imitation leather sofa
Watching a small black & white television
With the minty smoke of Daddy’s KOOL’s
Wafting around me like misty swamp fog.
“Forgive them,” He said, “for they know not…”
My parents bought an air conditioner after
Being told I would die without I had one,
But cigarettes, he did not know, at least maybe.
“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
I wish his Vulcan self could have intervened,
Kept me safe when all my books were scattered
Over the pavement of the street and I was
Knocked entirely off my feet almost daily,
I got a suitcase for the books because damaging
Those hurt me in a way I cannot explain,
But I said nothing to justify the scrapes
Usually, I tried to limit the sight of my body.
“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
His words were encouragement enough to try
Picking myself up repeatedly and pushing hard
To learn, learn, learn, I kept my mind in hiding
It could not be bullied, abused, stopped, turned,
It was a well-tuned engine fueled by possibility
And every particle I gathered and consumed
Made my hunger and thirst grow for something
Further, rarer, richer, deeper, more.
Prosperity only measured by my constant
Cultivation of the thriving garden of knowledge
Gained in a quest, I maintain even to today,
To live long and prosper without cowering again.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

I never imagined
We would live in
A time of plague,
But as I think
It would seem life
Has prepared me.

I learned as a wee
Little one in my
Illustrated Holy Bible
The fate of the Egyptians
Who in the Old Testament
Chose to stand against God.

I often read Edgar’s,
“Masque of the Red Death,”
And a few times I braved
Stephen’s apocalyptic masterwork,
The Stand which invaded
My dreams with fear.

Various articles on 1918
With their focus on
The failure of the grid,
Were supremely worrying,
Then more recently
Chuck’s terrifying Wanderers.

When the first news broke
In the New York Times
That the Coronavirus was
Fast-moving in China
Something clutched at me
And I became concerned.

As it spread further
Taking a tenacious hold
Worry invaded, and with
Each report of increased transmission
Fear escalated until a panic
Began to set in, spooking me.

I gathered my nerves
Convinced God is in Control
Knowing isolation is my lifestyle
Finding some peace that time
Is easy to occupy when creative
Hoping and praying as life goes on.

This was written about 4am after watching Netflix on the tablet in bed. I should have put it up earlier, but I was not sure how I felt about it. I try to focus on positive things, but I think there must be some use for poetic comment on the times.

Overwhelm

We are not
What is seen in looking,
We are
Tsunamis
Breaking upon shores
Of non-attendance,
Overflowing with
Abundances of LOVE,
Overcoming hesitance
That stifles generosity,
Conquering those tendencies
To cloister ourselves
Looking away,
Welcoming only companions;
Nevermore!
Our storm-wake recognizes
The outright necessity
Of every life,
Honored, treasured, valued
As even we, ourselves.
The world is not
A vague projected concept –
It is us,
Every person counted,
Matter and meaning,
Not something which
Must be sought and earned
With transitory achievement
But a given right of survival.