2022. May. 06. Friday. Creativity Project

Tempered

I know…
I didn’t get the memo
I didn’t read the news
Because you never sent them
There was no address to use.
It seems the feeling is gone
It left a salty taste,
Somehow I am lost
Albeit time and space
Do not require my presence.
The entry can be deleted
Freely to finally let go
There alas, is no consequence
No preference left to show
I bow to all, now play.

Come Closer

When tempted only to browse
Not close, not truly see
One avoids involvement
In everything completely.
Dandelions are destitute weeds
Not delicate creations, beauty,
People become utilitarian
Not deriving from incomprehensible
Depths of dignity, glamour, time.
The slant rays limning a vine
Do not enchant causing one
To desperately pine for a glimpse
Of crimson roses sent once
Upon a splendid loving time.
There is no magic, allure,
No precious heavenly divine
Each thing is dust fashioned
To feast upon with unrequited lust.
Slow a bit, look, long linger
Over what the world passes by,
The silver flicker of sun lighting waves,
A raindrop reflecting golden from clover,
The wingbeats gentle susurration
Of the murder of crows rising
Into the cerulean sky as a fierce
Beribboned Shih Tzu puppy walks
With a small bark and no chase to find.
Come, come, be entranced again
Let nature, environments,
Become the closest of friends,
Treasure every person, let
Humanity delight, rousing love
To light fires of generosity, kindness;
Gather hope that tomorrow will divulge
The abundant pleasures of happiness
Filling each day full-measure, overwhelming,
And to God all the glory, gratitude.

Yellow Flowers

The quiet does not always
Speak its mind, but hides
What it guesses in another
Rhyme set among the grasses
Decorated by lovely dandelions
Whose heads are lopped off
By progressive mowers
Who winnow down and control
The growth of pesky weeds
So they may not encroach
On the uniformity of lawns.
The tenders are sanctioned
By the owners who see such
Service as a particular grace
Nature having to be restricted
Or it will capture all, everything,
In its fervid path of degeneracy.
Wildflowers though possessing
A subtle beauty are unwelcome
As opinions that rise unpopular
In a culture of conformity
Where most every sound, note,
Joins the harmonious refrain
Chosen by those who can afford
To pay the cost of player voices
Repeating carefully designed lines
Popularized over hemispheres
To keep the people in their places
Everywhere, all the time.

Again

Sometimes the smiles drop,
Belief in love falls limp, strays,
What is left is dismal, drear,
So the smiles get pasted back on,
Nagging doubts are swept off, away.
Even if we pretend,
Eventually, we see
Love staring, sharing,
Toward us generously;
Imagination becomes
A positive proof
No one can refute, deny,
It is plain as reality,
Love chases us down
Coopts our days, fills us completely
Will never give up, cannot stop
Until it proves us precious
Beyond logical understanding;
Love is who we are, what is meant
To be in every event, situation, thing,
We cannot outrun or misguide it
Love knows us intimately,
It brought us alive,
Is throughout our living,
When fear, doubt, tear us apart
Love pick us up, straightens our smile,
Sets us firmly upon our feet,
Whispers, “I am with you, go again!”

Continue; Be

Nothing works to plan
Everything turns into dust,
But still, no despair
Earth can, with work, become brick
And with brick, great things are built.

I have no heart to
Tell you it is all over
Because this fight has
Been an everyday event
Longer than our lives endure.

Together we can
Make this nothing, a something
Others marvel at
Just trust and see, it happens,
People create history.

I have heart, your ways,
There is no force beyond love
Blessed of God above
Dreams, bright vision, filling days,
Creation alive expands.

We are stardust, blended light,
When given enough freedom
We banish terrors of blight.

I sat up in bed, writing into the morning hours. This was one of the poems I wrote just before sleep.