contemporary poetry
Hidden Places
POSTED IN contemporary poetry August 4, 2013
Hidden Places
Sintered words and pleasant places bide
In every secret desire
Over the shadows of our solemn times
Before the word became this fire.
Hidden places have burdened once with hope
Another patient toil to bide me through the wait
No hope would ever hope to last this long
Perhaps this toil yet once to change this fate.
Eventual surcease and the shadow of fear
Then to renew the hope I have found,
Reason put aside as the joyful hope is here,
And passion’s secret whisper echoes once around.
Eleven we have counted; now the toll is twelve
Left out of the shadow to find the secret places
Into where we have passed this new hope to delve,
Zephyrs cool the brow of sweat upon those faces.
Almost all is gone; we search our soul again,
Begin the search again for that we hope to find
Eventually indeed, an anodyne for pain
That was not the thing we had in our mind.
Hidden places now revealed for their secret trove,
Dawn in this forest as the shadow clears,
Almost we had hoped; almost we had fought
Vainly through the echoing hall of years
In the ocean of fright the shapeless ship would rove,
Eventually we come as the shadow nears,
Searching hidden places; there is the hope we sought.
Richard A. Jones
Pentantekut
POSTED IN contemporary poetry August 3, 2013
Pentantekut
‘Settlers’ came and took the name
And gave it one of their own
They all call it Tibble’s Lake now
As if millenniums would know
Loon lives here and calls at night
The song that says this is home
Blue heron nests a ways down the creek,
In the marsh, standing still and alone
Swan sails when patches appear
In the ice as it melts away
Pelican arrives in a noisy crew
Taking their place on the bay
Osprey guards the mouth of the stream
From high atop a fir tree
Eagle lays claim to the open air
To reign over all that they see
Blackbird sings in the heat of day
And everything stops to hear
And I, in my silence, everyday see
A Creator’s creation is near
In my secret forest
POSTED IN contemporary poetry August 3, 2013
In my secret forest
In my secret forest
at the bottom of my garden
I discovered a shell
It was empty
Yet when I held it
to my ear
I found it filled with sound
The swirling ocean
rushing, roaring, crashing
on to the beach
The whistling of the wind
whipping up the sand
stinging my eyes
Oh no!
I quickly dropped the shell
and all was calm again
I tasted a salty tear
dislodged by the sands
of my imagination
Rubbed my red rimmed eyes
as if I really had
swam in the ocean
Held my face up to the breeze
swung my arms and danced
along the beach
rejoicing in my freedom
The shell fell silent
in my secret forest
at the bottom of my garden
A gift from the sea
longing for me
to pick it up once more
and let the genie free.
Hardwired to Connect
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 31, 2013
Hardwired to Connect
human-to-human
we are rooted in earth
human-to-non-human
we live in this space
and the space in between
with a new sense of place
innate self knows…
gifts are life’s birthright
and our intuition flows
interdependence
explores past separation
and tears down defense
from a supportive place
we hear ourself and others
from a compassionate space
we gain newfound respect
tread gently on mother earth
humanity and wisdom connects.
Gael Bage
Bagua
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 30, 2013
Bagua
Bodies float in rivers.
Women are sacrificing their lives
for the Amazon jungles they call home.
Women are mourning
their men and their children.
Oil wells and rainforests,
uneasy bedfellows
in each other’s tricksy embrace,
with profit the sole measure of progress.
Killed in the streets,
guardians of the green roofs;
their crime:
concern for their earth.
There’s always the official line:
terrorist organizations
duped thousands
of these stupid women,
brainless farmers
and other indigenous low life
into opposing progress.
They locals won for now.
We owe them.
Listen!
They protest
their displacement
in the interests of the bottom line.
US Congress is pushing a new model plan
that looks remarkably like the old one.
Rosmarie Epaminondas
Cast Down from Your Heaven
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 30, 2013
Cast Down from Your Heaven
I have been cast down
from your heaven
my tongue cut out
No more words do you wish
from this fiery throat
that spilled such warm sugar
into your pinkish ear
Oh, you never kept your promise
to cure my lovesick heart
instead you called on the gods
who have sworn to silence
my words for you
Like Orpheus
my head floats
and begs a kiss
But your lips are for curses
and incrimination alone
I asked only words
and to swim in the same waters
that you swim
to call our friendship
everlasting
But I fell nine days
into liquid fire
as you ravaged
my every thought of you
I’m still burning here
while you sleep
sanguine in the knowledge
that you have
silenced a voice
that spoke your name with fondness.
Frank Crsicenti
Ghetto Glitter
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Ghetto Glitter
.
In the city night daubs neon shimmers
on inky water, in nature night’s silver queen
gifts incandescence to streams and rivers
arc’s above seven seas, clear and serene.
Selene trancends time in the eternal now;
no one man can lift the black velvet cloak
of night, where moonlight mirrors to somehow
gift the truth in reflection. Self spoke
and sifted through cobwebs of chaos to find
demons puffed up with pride and arrogance.
Disguised as beautiful creatures in my mind
their light fingers dipped into life’s dance
and devoured everything. I walk on, alone,
through twilight zone, empty, devoid of pride,
shamed by admission, heart plummets like stone
self-esteem now at it’s lowest ebb-tide.
a lantern glow enters soul on hope’s wings
moccasins tread softly around darkness shown.
Overcome by the maternal wisdom in all things
a soul new-born, prepares to learn and grow.
Gael Bage
Rio Negro
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Rio NegroOn page 87 of the Oxford Atlas
I found the pencil-drawn line of a long forgottenjourney I once planned. The curved arrow
points to the Amazon estuary then draws a circle around Belém,Tocatins, running further across Rio Paro to Ilha dos Macacos,
Antônio Lemos;the line then follows the river upstream:
Paraguara, Santarem, Terra Santa, Ita-piranga, Sao Jose, Manaus, Arcuipelago de
las Anavilhanas, Taupecacu, Moura.Finally, circled, with a small arrow
inside the circle – Rio Negro, Rio Negro.
Tomica Bajsic
Blind Devotion
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Blind Devotion
Along the river bank one day
I met a man and dog at play
the dog carried in his mouth
a rubber ring
an awkward thing
but that was not the strangest sight
his faithful eyes were milky white
“How can he find the ring?” I asked
And his master softly laughed
“I make sure he knows,” he said
bent down to point his blind dog’s head
toward the way that he would throw
and with tail wagging off he sped
the ring jostled by his side
then tumbled to the ground to hide
at first the dog walked round and round
sniffed and sniffed ‘til it was found
then headed off in joyful glee
you would not know he could not see
back eventually he came
sat back down – “more … more … the same”
every muscle was a quiver
he knew his master would deliver
And I?
I cried inside as I stood there
watching this devoted pair
For love that binds a man with dog
is surely love that comes from God
Amanda Edwards
When The Beloved Speaks
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
When The Beloved Speaks
When The Beloved Speaks
through the fire
in your stopped mind
sift the ashes
the mental lava
spill the eruption out
let it go
now go beyond when/where
your mind stopped
Now it can be taken
the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is nothing to do
just listen…be attentive
live in the moment
live in your heart
breathe more deeply
just breathe
purify your mind on that altar
which is your heart
Then answer the beckoning
of the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is nothing
but the experience of Love
it is nothing
but overwhelming flow
into, through and out
of your heart
its wondrous beneficence
flowing all about you
To you from you
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
who also is the Love
who also is the Lover
what is left
when you know there is no
reality but the One Reality
there is no god but the One God
When you are
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
where are you going now?
no place to go, nothing to do
and no place to hide…just be
finally…Who You are!
flow into and with the Spirit
gather your possessions
return them to whomever
stolen or borrowed
or assimilated from
willingly, unwillingly
it’s not you…they are not yours
Let them go on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
you know it is time to go Home
as at the Ocean’s edge
you know its song
you taste that salty tear
knowing yours is welcome
to mingle in that vastness
is one with that vastness.
You are drawn to that
damp breast, called
Back to The Oneness
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
a breath intoned on the breeze
joins you to the harmonies
of the Hu…in joyful song play
skying toward oneness
once again being called Home
with every whispered nuance
striking the ear drum…as if it were a bell
whose tones are sent
ringing through your body’s bones
Through the temple of your being
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
comes the flame of resurrection
from the ashes of one’s personality
spiraling up toward the Father
toward the Universal Oneness
joining the choruses of that paean
that has been sung through the ages
flung out across the outer vastness
that is not near so vast
As one’s inner being
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is none of self
there is but the nugget
at the center, the nugget
shining there in your heart
and you know now how it can dance
and you know now how to dance
why one dances, when one dances
that all beings dance
that you are a living participant in
“The only dance that there is!”
on the Path of the Heart
Qutbuddin Loren Ruh Smith
