Rivers
Of rising rhymes
Rapidly flow like rain
Refilling my repertoire realm
Refreshing the reservoirs of my mind
Releasing reliable words
Written and reviewed, then.
Release Rhythmic
Rivers
It’s great
that they read us
a joy
when they say
“I loved your
last poem
the best one
today”
We post
and we thank them
for all
that they give
Refilling
our pens
with more reasons
— to live
(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)
A vessel
of transference
my doors
never close
All windows
stay open
where light
can impose
A constant
refilling
with verse
to the brim
Whose message
of hope
forever
— within
(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)
the spark comes out
the candle ignites
starting the fire and providing light
darkness spark fire light
the dark room lights up
the kids can see
they run around and play in the light
spark fire light wax
the wax runs down the sides
the fire going down
making the room just a little darker
fire light wax darkness
the candle runs out
smoke rises from the dead flame
darkens refilling the room
darkness spark fire light wax darkness
Always hot plates.
Always refilling clean slates.
Always lots of food.
Always yummiest dishes.
Always the best of buffets
When quenching
the silence
alone at the well
One ladle
awaits me
and loneliness quelled
Tomorrow resurgent
all thirst
fading fast
My shadow
refilling
— the emptiness past
(Dreamsleep: September, 2024)
There was a server at the local cafe you see
Who got in trouble when refilling cups of coffee
Many said just a shot
Half a cup was said a lot
But she lost her job when one said hit me
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Since what is unseen is destroyed, allow me to stay.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
Dreary midwinter is no match for Elysium malice!
Hiding from prying eyes, a visit under a gloomy sky
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
With mind two-way mirror, despite how lawless,
Souls glance at each other; let me for a while sway.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
We're falling into the abyss, surrounded by darkness.
Yield to the crowds swirling cognitive waters bay.
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Come level my solace, lines contain no rare promise
Lazing in wilderness fields, Elysian meadows fly.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
Receiving prizes while lying on the desolate display.
Refilling, ripping, and sowing occur after we pray.
A magnificent ecstasy fantasy, a dreamlike palace
A single drop of water might be a source of solace.
Written: February 07, 2023
The words taste like music
from worlds long ago
Each letter resavored
in harmonies old
Coming to harvest
their sweetness imbues
A cave for an orchard
in wall painted hues
Old symbols retilling
those questions inside
Reborn when discovered
then never to hide
The silos refilling
new birthrights to seed
Replanted within us
—a symphony freed
(The New Room: January, 2023)
Of what use are gloves to fingers
that only understand mittens?
This quizzical query lingers
in my thoughts, applied to kittens.
These tiny balls of fluffy joy
roam unleashed, exploring their world.
And like an adorable toy,
each looks gorgeous, with its tail curled.
Yet, trying to teach them a trick
is a waste of time; that's so true.
And it is not because they're thick,
they just don't perform as dogs do.
Oblivious to my commands,
they both come and go as they wish.
And tend to ignore my demands
unless I'm refilling their dish.
They're accustomed to living free,
born strong-willed, and independent.
Yet, they choose to snuggle with me,
sharing a love; that's transcendent.
(Quatrain)
01/08/2023
Of what use are gloves to fingers
that only understand mittens, contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
Like petrol,
coming from a place of refining,
from crude to refined.
Like petrol,
propelling others, burning yourself,
using every energy to the last pint.
Like petrol,
when you are done burning yourself,
they refill, pick another petrol.
Unlike petrol,
never leaving the place of refining,
continuing steadfastly day by day.
Unlike petrol,
prioritising your growth first,
even as you stand up for others.
Unlike petrol,
refilling yourself by yourself,
staying filled, always relevant.
For a Taoist,
rivers and their valleys
are iconic
ecowomanist yintegrity,
Yet St. Francis feels rivers,
but probably not their embracing valleys,
as Brothers.
As the River running through my backdoor life
flows from northern right
downstream to southern left,
I remain nondualistically of two minds,
and probably all transinsurrections
in and out between
River waters flowing
and valleyed land supporting
gender specific identities
I cannot realistically experience upstream
from down,
or flow from strong stability
toward this River's mouth
emptying into nonviolent surf
progressively surging forward
and regressively back
From overflowing ocean sources
refilling MotherEarth's support
for stable
and resilient,
public
and intimate health care
TransGendered systems for all
Brother/Sister sacredly bilateral
spiritual strength
flowing naturally down
and out,
redeeming up
and in
Taoist interdependent rivers
and their intersectional valleys
flowing deep sea green
integrity.
She
wrapped in ribbons of light
Oh, so sweet a smile
lit
those pistachios in fiery eyes
refilling the vessel of a soul
counting all strings plucked
in excited thrum -
a beating heart
paradise is never far, no
not for me
walked in her graceful dawn
with blooms that go on and on
beguiled by desire's call
She
Charles Aznavour, Herbert Kretzmer (1974) - She
Dilated pupil captures a partner with her submission
Above sadness, eyes sea sunk in upset unquenchable
Desperation lodged in lagoon swims to 2021 surface
Air refilling deflated lungs floats a Goldi locked trophy
Drawn from decaying pages of housewife magazines
Overtly womanly hip to waist ratio cinched on display
Empathy white tidal wave, compassion washes angst
Surrogate heart fed off rise fall arousal bursts buttons
Nostalgia learns Stu's language, sucking word marrow
Omens of history trip a mirrored future, path predicted
Sorrow entangled sheet furrows, wrath burrowed deep
Trauma not lost thru lustful aggressor swamp syphon
Welcome fragrant frail pale spurs a sturdy demeanour
Enveloped open emotions compel his chest responds
Lechery leaves detail aside, abides with blind present
Longing to cast away loneliness, romance sails rough
8th February
Dictated by Wharf air (after warfare)
DADA DOES NOST WELL
Forbidden Fruit
Wild bat hanging from a tree
Wings curled around furry body.
Sleeping soundly, nose twitches
Net captured, frightened creature.
Hot steaming Chinese market
Exotic animals everywhere.
Herbal medicine, cultural difference
Healing, treatments for illnesses.
One moment in time.
Eaten the forbidden fruit
Coughing, high temperature
Hospital death follows quickly.
Virus
Bad blood circulating
Body exhausted, fighting back.
Breathing hard, lungs hurt
Oxygen stable, under attack.
People to people human touch
Droplets infected moving around.
Hosts unaware of silent death
Travel bans, society clampdown.
Lockdown
Numbers increasing, scared panic
Supermarkets shelves emptied.
Self-isolation, loneliness
Anxiety, stress, depression.
Community unites, help needed
NHS support people cheer.
Financial crash, business closed
Jobs lost, families struggle.
Vaccines
Vacant beds refilling fast.
Acute wards overstretched.
Coronavirus spreading quickly.
Cannot contain the disease.
Inventive research needed.
Now the time for a vaccine.
Emergency funds available.
Signs are hopeful for the future.
Related Poems