my Sky Room

Spin word-worlds into orbit,

our eyes

follow like flowing scarves, tossed

into the wind along a head way.

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Image : Tears by Hazelh3 on Photobucket

Cup of Despair

I believe I drank from Cup of Despair
hidden hung on Life’s abundant tree -
or it found me – hiding in low bough shadows
cringing – naked alone on the Human knee.

There’s a life out there in the mirey clay;
broken, left wandering listless long of late, riding
a big black storm on a cloudless day.

Universal music weaves in and out the air;
my instrument of Life pants breathless,
a struggling note blown out of tune.

My Sky Room is vast and mysterious;
on Celestial shelf near the stars and moon
float space junk: my unsung accomplishments.

I mourn the work left in Life undone;
my portion measures the least of them,
good intentions never count for much.

Now the tongue likes to claim my best – tho
my works – a life lived in superficiality and jest.
I’m told.
I’ve – colored my life Rusted Tin – in watery lies
little white sins some thoughtless whim – I’ve
smothered my candle from within.

God’s precious gift grows worn – O lowly worm
now – lost in lost loves lost dreams I squirm I scream;
nothing will cover my unworthy past or sins.

Some place away somewhere now at bay
lay lost souls like me alone afraid
fearful of base waste soiled Bed We Made.

Thinking, take this cup from me!
Born torn cloth never made whole;
Thy lowly limb severed from Life’s tree,
my impoverished love my mother sin,
my heart adrift unforgiven upon your sea.

Let this be what defines your hidden me;
a dam holding back a river tear
falling from an ocean eye.

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A Few Words for Memorial Day

Ordinary men
act extraordinary,
fierce purpose prevails.

A band of brothers
fight to the death for each other
and the world-at-large.

War, like it or not,
determines one’s survival.
“Life” does not take sides.

Peace is an ideal;
easier said than done, right?
Honor our fallen.

Life is war with peace;
there is no Peace-permanent
’til heaven’s on Earth.

All Armed Services
remind me their loyalty:
one Band of Brothers.

Stark reality
sinks in – strangers died for me!
It’s Life’s greatest gift.

Nation under God,
One Purpose, One way of Life:
All Brother’s Keepers.

I bow to fallen
soldiers past, present, future:
Reverence unfolds.

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Darfuri Cry from the Wilderness

“If only the world knew,
We would have done something.”
from Mia Farrow‘s Darfur blog, 4.13.09

Ohh, we know the plight of the Darfuri, all right.
As we sleep tight in our feather beds at night,
little Darfuri feet are on the beat
scavenging imaginary streets between rows
of tents bent inward fighting for structure,
sculpting organization out of raw air dreams
paved in dust.

Like many others, for me Darfur is more like a story
read once or twice, images suffice, and horror
is taken in small bites,
no different than eating grubs hurriedly
on an empty stomach perhaps
a dust ball between sheets of newspaper
sandwich a meal to read over first;
later the dying emerge as a dream scene,
clawing nailless into the ground looking for water
who thirst for death come quickly.

The sickly ones rival dust-covered flat field color of pale tents
their flapping side ribs sticking out,
extended belly called home but the line was busy
tending to the dead and dying.

Lying, if we said we didn’t know.
Doing something is always agonizingly slow
for those without means or a way
to make a difference,
moreover, the elite may,
and choose oratory instead.
The mighty and powerful claim
powerless over sovereign country Heads
of State,
but make war preemptively post haste.

Sound of clarion calls peal the air,
a brother’s keeper stands out, where
even the brave fear to tread among the million
dead.

Momma Mia, momma of the brave indeed.
Heard the cry of a People hoarse desperate doomed
in need
of a multitude of Momma Mias who plea
for Darfur’s living remnant
marooned off the shores of sand sea;
I beg of you
to do.
Reading, pleading, seeding thoughts anew
are not enough.

Demand our President stand by his word.

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“A Stain on our souls”

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A place called Liberty

Liberty is like a river that knows no bounds;
swells and contracts as it makes its way
to the vast roily sea.
The sea is a metaphor for all tears cried.
Like when Liberty died.
I guess being composed and centered is like majestic
mountain over there, splayed out in front of azure skies,
the color of your mother’s eyes.

Liberation is participation in the vision above described.
As it is, the river of my body chugs along,
has an inkling of unclogged rivulets running,
no.. rushing, rushing up and down my arms and legs.
Living in oppression is like being my ankles
pleading with my blood to climb up into my heart
where hope lives, pumping.
Hope is like hearing the beats of your own drumming
heart steady and defiant.

When you’re filled with hope, you are the river.

[From _A Tale of Two Verbs_ a work in progress]

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Tethered Love

Feel unbelief she’s gone-
physically she flew off
into the upper reaches of heaven,
ever-loving spirit visions
weaving in and out
of our days.

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Life fades or fires bright-
my love you are the candle
sentry me my night.

Photo by mikes&mugs on Flickr

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Photo by Kirpernicus on Flickr

Remembrance

I think I’ll always
remember you
in the early morning hours
just before dawn

when sky
is a velvet drape
melting colors
soft as raindrops;

a time
when everything is lazy
clouds majestic mountains
s-p-l-a-s-h-e-d
across sky in purple palette

trees cloaked
in sensuous beauty
swaying against indigo skies
stars like diamonds
falling at their feet

thinking

I’ll always remember you
in the early morning hours
when all I feel
is gentleness of morning
awakening

when all I hear is occasional bird in song
when all I know is peace within my heart

knowing.

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A Chorus of Angels

We mourn death too much
focus on our own losses
fail to understand

Heaven opens gate
Rejoice! Rejoice! the Good News!
Inbound saint* comes home!

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Sad Day on Earth, Indeed

Freedom fighters mourn
soviet dissident’s death-
legacy lives on.

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Shhh.. Tread Lightly, American Poet

Tread lightly, ‘merkan
poet.  Dissident writing
make U terrorist

according to .gov.
Make U red list or blue list
doomed American.

You’re the Ages true
historian – speaking truth
to power, always.

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‘Million Dollar Baby’ , the Movie

From dust we come, go.
Irrepressible spirit
overcomes the soul.

Two-fisted passion
within, woos mind, its true twin;
hope won’t be boxed in.

Crass foul deals cruel fate.
One well-placed blow change life’s pace-
kinetic to still.

Her constrained soul sighs.
Entombed alive in-place, one
welcomes will to die.

Entreats her mentor
carry out relief rescue,
end her present plight.

Appalled, wish rebuked,
Maggie stages her own death.
She failed.  Determined,

suicide entails
some small hidden truth unveiled,
resolve is certain,

Death’s curtain shall fall
when one’s own hand won’t forestall,
thwart, hinder, the Call..

Hospital prevents
further suicide attempts-
for the time being.

Dunn reconsiders
endless suffering will haunt
much as talking life.

Capitulation
rears its ugly head over-
whelms Dunn, he relents.

With boss, she, one mind
entwine into that good night;
go primed soul – lift off!

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Greed by framedview on Flickr

Whodunit? U ask

Big oil companies
hold the world stage in angst-
Do U wonder Y?

Major distraction
takes Peoples eye off the ball-
Here’s hidden story

The Nation on-line
speaks truth 2 power – then some!
Should shock & awe U

(To: Robber Barons
UBS as in U B
Shit; LGT 2)

Wealthy steal billions
in plain sight thanks 2 big banks
money laundering

Tax havens 4 hire
How 2 fleece & skin the Peeps?
Off-shore profits, ho!

Tax evasion dough?
Need look no further than Swiss
and Liecht of Europe

“A company is..
only as ethical as
its people” — Wuffli

UBS U.S.
scumbags extraordinaire!
U B evil men

No job no home no
money – who feed “the children?”
Congress will cry out!

Rich don’t care who die
they in it for da moolah!
Who will hang’m high?

Thought I..

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When the moon pushes
………..the clouds away,
………..and the waves
………..glide upon the shore
………..like silver wings,
………..I’ll want your arms around me
………..sharing the mystery of the main,
………..the secret of its soul.

Wrapped around each others thoughts
………..roving over sand and rock,
………..searching with a single eye
………..together we shall find a place,
………..for our one heart this love creates
………..to dwell forever in His grace.

When the moon disappears
………..into morning,
………..and the sounds of the sea
………..are distant echoes
………..in our minds,
………..I’ll want your arms around me
………..sharing the mystery of its soul,
………..and dwell forever in this place.

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Photo by Johnnyb4

Earth bids day goodnight-
as red lips kiss fading light
veiled in lacy wood.

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The seeds which are me
shall be scattered
to the winds
that I might be born again

in tree,
roots and branches reaching
ambidextrous soil to sun

in bird,
wings of God-given freedom
perfection of flight

in man,
mind of wit and reason
soul enclosed its might

how like a man

…………………….a bird

…………………………… a tree

my restless soul
reaching to be free.

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We’ve walked together many miles
Upon this road – called Life-
And by-the-by I’ve learned some things
Some good – some not so nice.

Life offers us both Likes and Loves
They’re out there – everywhere-
So hush – and look and listen – please
Be still – and step with care.

For God has given everything
From Eyes – to Grand Design-
And puts us on a different Path
With different Peaks to climb.

Together – Rivers wide we crossed
Together – Roads we walked
With every mile – we sang and laughed
And cried – then barely talked.

Rivers – mountains – crossed them all
Now hushed – I step with care
I drank too deeply – then I cried
To learn of life’s Despair.

I reawoke – one gracious morn
To see the Dawn – out there-
In subtle Hues – the Darkness left
And – Light – now Everywhere.

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Photo credit Rusty Russ

Haiku 4 U

A sway and an ease
A gracefulness and lush green,
Slow dance windblown trees.

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All Poems Copyright © thatdowdygirl, 2009. All Rights Reserved.

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