"alertness" poems
Being present means I'm not mentally labeling
Creating inner space and stillness, a being's haven
Being present means I'm not feeling emotionally drained
Creating inner space and stillness, more and more gained
Being present means I'm not waiting to react
Creating inner space and stillness, a being's habitat
Being present means I'm not clinging to the past
Creating inner space and stillness, it is so vast
Being present means I'm not worrying about the future
Creating inner space and stillness, and this I will nurture
Being present means I'm not compulsive thinking
Creating inner space and stillness, to God I am linking
Being present means I'm not judging what others think, say or do
Creating inner space and stillness, a being's point of view
Being present means I'm not resisting what is
Creating inner space and stillness, a native of this
Being present means I'm not attached to any kind of form
Creating inner space and stillness, a being's norm
Being present means I'm alert and alive
Creating inner space and stillness, a being's high five
Being present means I have the time for you
Creating inner space and stillness, and wholeness too
Being present means I enjoy what I do
Creating inner space and stillness, consciously too
Being present means I am consciously speaking, doing and acting
Creating inner space and stillness, of which there is no lacking
Being present means I am aligned to my purpose
Creating inner space and stillness, alive and alertness
Being present means I am at peace
Creating inner space and stillness, and flowing with ease
Being present means I accept its isness
Creating inner space and stillness, that is growing within us
Being present means I know there is no more important moment
Creating inner space and stillness, and feeling atonement
Being present means I'm connecting to a depth within
Creating inner space and stillness, for all to live in
Being present means there's nowhere else I'd rather be
Creating inner space and stillness, and the power To Be
Plant your flower ........
Being present means
I know there's no more
Important moment
Than NOW
© Delores Wiltse 2008 Excerpt from:
A Door Is Opening/AuthorHouse.com
Fresh Spiritual Poetry via:
http://peacefromwithin.shawwebspace.ca/
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 6:35 AM UTC
Lioness
You are my lioness
Protecting me through think and thin
Using your keen alertness
You hold me in
I am you cub
You Roar keeps the bad lions away
Like a the man and the club
But your lick makes me stay
Soft warm fur drawing me in
Like the blanket at night
That keeps me tucked in
So that I sleep tight
But jk tho
I know you are not the lioness
I just want you to know
You are the king of friendliness
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
Earth is my bedroom and toilet;
an empty cup, my self employment
Days of empty stomach churning,
a forced sermon at "Sunday Breakfast"
Fast-food places are my kitchens;
Shelters,my free hotels and free meals
Police are my nemesis;
human rights, a foreign fantasy
Jail cells are my places for philosophical,
contemplated thought
Filth is my every day attire;
alertness, my only protection
Weather is my lover or enemy;
cold empty stares, my other human contacts
Loneliness is my constant companion
New horizons are never sought
by this man-of-no-land
,
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
You’re frightened but, there is no need for fear.
Your eyes are barely open.
Your vision is blurred beneath your thickened lashes.
Blinded, you are.
Hazed, you are.
Sick, you are.
Lying on the minted tile floor,
back arched and your cheek pressed to a faded rug,
you roll on your side.
Tilting your head up, you moan.
The vicious pulse begins pounding your wounded head.
You roll again on your shrunken stomach,
bubbling over with an ocean of alcohol.
You drag your eyes up to the piercing light above you.
Adjusting yourself slowly,
your hands fumble for the floor beneath you.
The muscles in your arm strain as you push yourself to sit.
No strength.
The stained bathtub provides something stable to grasp.
Smeared makeup.
Hair stuck to your hollow face.
Memories scattering in the wind outside.
More pounding, but this time it isn’t in your head.
It’s booming outside the door.
Screaming and movement is caving in on you,
suffocating you.
Who’s outside?
What’s outside?
"It's okay”, he says “You’re fine now.”
You turn and stare.
How long has he been here?
He’s been watching you the entire time.
He knows something.
He’s done something to you.
That’s why your in this frightening room below the ground.
He stands and walks towards you.
You must stay strong.
Don’t flinch.
No weakness.
A gentle arm glides just under your leg
and the other behind your waist.
He lifts you up and a small whimper escapes your lips.
There’s pain.
He carries you into a familiar room through another door.
The pounding from outside grows softer.
Shoulders relax.
Forehead cools.
Sleepiness comes.
He sits on the bed with you in his lap.
Suddenly your alertness fades and you feel comforted.
“How much did you drink?” He asks timidly.
You lean your head back.
Funny.
“Just a little”,
your words slur from your swollen tongue.
You start to giggle.
Arms begin to sweat.
Stomach tightens.
Puke.
Tears.
Hushed.
“Shh now. You’re fine. It’s alright. Breathe. Breathe.”, He coo's
and slowly strokes your spine.
Tensions released.
He stands and walks to the door.
“No! Come back!”, You cry.
He’s leaving.
Why?
You reach your hand out,
like a child,
but draw it back quickly.
“Haven’t I always come back? This time is no different.”
Only a second passes and you’re out.
Not all the way.
Eyes closed.
A window opens.
The fan goes on.
A blanket covers you.
He’s there.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
Pressing His Cherub face against the window glass, To get the * Better View. Even as the Heat from his Breath caused the Fogging of the Glass ! Standing now on His Tip-Toes trying harder yet to get that Better View.. The crowds around Him, were pressing in, Pressing in as if they would *NEVER Get a Turn. The SIGN Clearly said ,,," ALL IN LINE , WILL GET THE OPPORTUNITY TO SEE , TO ASK and to CHOOSE ! " There were no Sequence numbers assigned, SO...the Poor LAD got Shoved further back into the MASSIVE CROWD . Instead of the Line getting smaller, it seemed that it was GROWING even Larger... The LAD with the CHERUB face was now pushed all the way to the OUTER-EDGES of the crowd. Not ONE without a *DRIVING URGE AND SPIRIT, the Lad Shouted in a Loud Voice and Pointing to the *REDDISH-BLUE morning sky. "There HE IS ! There HE IS ! ! " At that moment, everyone in the Great crowd turned toward the Lad and Looked up into the SKY... With Keen Alertness the CHERUB faced Lad Raced toward the entry door......and to HIS ASTONISHMENT,, *THERE HE STOOD,, The Tears of Great JOY and Excitement Poured down the CHERUB Faced Lad. The Lad had made His Choice....AND...He Saw *OPEN ARMS extended Open to Receive HIS Embrace ! ! The Roar of Joy from the Great Crowd did not dilute the TEARS OF DELIGHT Thoughts Racing thru His Mind,, about the CROWD WOULD THEY PRESS-ON AS THIS "CHERUB" HAD DONE.
Dec 8, 2010
Dec 8, 2010 at 3:10 AM UTC
alertness that make perfect
lazy that takes away everything
crazy that destroy's everything
creativity that makes new things
dream weaver that dreams everything
scientist that invent something
life cycle that goes smooth fully
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Raspberries and ginger ale
Never can I tell
If they end well
Last prairie unsettled
Not claimed yet
From greed
Mechanical rattle comes from kitchen
A power tool dancing
Upbeat digital alarm
Click, juernk, juniper
All noises unsaleable
Fingerless to put on
Fearless finicky me
I'm angsty and funny
And stupid and satiated
Satiated with alertness
Created by newspaper
Hated by voices
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:45 AM UTC
Perfect is worthless seen through the eyes of a serpent
A word I'm sure is uncertain, spoken from any one person
I've come to realize earth is a curve of choking emotions
Seventy one percent ocean but see, the fire is the potion
We keep a flame in our hearts just to keep away the commotion
Forsworn and broken, stuck to a preconceived notion
We heat the coldest of parts but we don't foresee the explosion
We've chosen hate over love and we let our minds remain frozen
We're hopeless roamers and loners subject to being torn open
We stumble through the black, hands splayed blindly groping
For some sort of hope although we're lost in the ***** mess
Of pretending to be alive, free and full of alertness
Too often we keep our hearts rib-caged and vested
Let nothing come between our minds and this message
A vestige of optimism found underneath a veil of depression
But being hopeful for a future is a subtle transgression
To the laws of the present where we learn only one lesson
"Sever the bonds between eyesight and connection"
Dissecting human nature and replacing it with technology
Follow me I'll show you our true psychology
We seek a light in a cave but digging used archaeology
We advance not through screens, but 'forward ideology'
We accept a flawed system and in return are plagued harshly
By the 'gods' of the world because 'goods' are placed sparsely
Mark my words, the hand of time is our only true opponent
We believe the hand of 'him' to be the earths advancing component
So we fake smiles and play this game but we don't own it
We just bought it of the market that we created unknowing
Listen because I am showing independence in words
Not trying to preach, I just want you to learn
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
You move like a snake
silently, smoothly, along soft and
from morning dew wet grass.
I found your shed skin beside the lake,
a trace, a mark to follow
already drunk of your sweet fragrance.
There you wait for me on the edge of the woods
but your are a chameleon: every tree, leaf, whisper
of air says your name, hide you, then expose you in twister
and I’m in trance, exhausted of search.
I lean my body on the nearest birch to rest, your alertness
to test.
And there you come,
gorgeous in all your beauty to ****** me with flickering
fiery licks of the tongue that glides over my skin, biting my chin.
I shed my dress, with sky’s bless
Love and Earth, Eden in birth of our desire
endless and restless.
Lake ripples, burbles in sweet aches of waves
upon the gravy shore.
I wake up. I see your peaceful face resting beside mine.
You are a dream of the realm unseen.
There are no descriptors to describe my adore.
I bend to kiss you and hurry to pick up the clothes from the floor.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:28 AM UTC
I've been thinking about what love is...
And I've not a clue.
A home, safe from the tides that bash against shores?
Where one may rest a heavy head, without a need for alertness?
Or is it a challenge, one fought with an eager grin?
A back and forth where blades are forged sharper than before?
What of a mix? The two intertwined?
What or why? Oh, what and why?
When a tug beckons the heart
What does it mean?
I've not a clue.
Oct 6, 2023
Oct 6, 2023 at 4:16 AM UTC
Pulse echoing in the hollow canal of my ear,
A sweet, persuasive sound that initiates the craving,
I want to taste you in the sickest of ways,
Like itchy centipede legs discovering the back of your throat,
A discomfort only a thousand sips could quell,
I’d like to think I could resist,
I know better; I’m only realtime flesh,
Slowly rub your cheek against my chin,
I’ll dip my nose into your neck and use my tongue to caress each striation,
Until I can taste the carotid reaching toward the holy switchboard,
My jaws will not be denied, closing vehemently,
Penetrating the silky dermis, ragged vents meant to pourpourpour
Vital lifeblood and sustenance out into useful globs of passive alertness,
You are a beautiful, tormented creature in which I can bear to look at no longer.
I cannot see you as you are meant to be, I am deluded and biased..
Sent to realize truth, only to find no definitive,
I will relish bringing about your end as much as my own.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
I witnessed the foreshadowing of my once bright sky,
How living memories started to die
Fathom my happy life instantly turn into lie
Give me a second and I fool everyone a treacherous smile
It began with... I don't know actually
Maybe when people turned their backs from me
While their constantly saying that they'll never leave
They aren't even aware that in every day they did
Then, my fragmented soul, I promised, I'll be tougher
Like a stonecold in the midst of sober
Because in this universe, I am a one of a kind hue
That can't even blend with the beautiful colors of you
So today, I'll be climbing Mt. Forlorn
And dive in the deepest sea of thorns
So honey, listen to me, have sense of alertness
Even your own shadow will leave you in darkness
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
.
Let us linger for a while
upon this sacred mid-stream Isle.
Between the banks of this woodland river,
the flanking tree-scape murmurs peace.
Tinkling drops over pebbles tumble,
eager and away to the sea, its home.
The easy flow of destiny contained
in a dashing continual race.
Birds chatter until the big one shrieks,
its flashing form
diving through the canopy
in search of a mammal to feed its young.
The chorus resumes.
A nervous Doe peeks from dense undergrowth,
constant alertness as she moves,
body trembling in anticipation of attack,
but conquering fear, bends to drink.
Lazy grass and moss so soft
lies underfoot in this magikal place,
the feel and the pull of the earth
brings comfort and peace to the tired body,
tranquility evoked with sight and sound,
soothing the mind with touch and smell,
a sensual cuddle from the Natural world.
© Pagan Paul (2016/2017)
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC
There was a certain beauty
that could be seen within her ugliness.
There was a certain clarity
finding its way through all her confusion.
There was a certain sanity
scarcely heard among the screaming of her madness.
There was a certain alertness
waking up from her exhaustion.
There was a certain light
shining through her darkness.
There was a certain meaning
edging its way out of her emptiness.
There was a certain absolution
found amidst all her regret.
There was a certain realization
that she would find her way.
Just a certain certainty
that she would be okay...
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
in my dreams i blend the two of you together.
you share the same skin tone already,
almost the same hair colour.
but one pair of eyes
gives way to the colour of the other.
i look into them and think warmth, safety, kindness.
but they still hold the other's alertness, the same beam.
one's body falls into the other's gait.
strong, broad, muscled with soft force
now carried with confidence and ego
that melts my knees.
laughs come together as something
like a grab at my chest, or waist,
or a hand behind my ear, or at the back of my neck.
the thought of it forces me to lick my lips.
hands remain in their already similar manner.
voices boil down to love potion.
lips to plushy incantation.
stretch marks, scars,
and treasure trails begin
to double up.
chest hair sprouts where
it once wasn't.
part of me is disgusted by my dreaming
of a crock *** boy that once was two.
but another part knows
neither of them wants me wholly
either.
friday/january 17/2014/12:16 A.M.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
On my shoulder a heap of garment
In two hands two birded cage
In my mind time management
That I love to do with craze!
List of my works to do
Keep growing in a hellish way
Clipping nails polishing shoe
Time is too short for one day!
When to do them you may ask
If all loose ends I’ve to tie
So I take up multitask
There’s not even time to die!
At 8.30 her medicine
9 I must run the pump
I must keep my cheek trim clean
Traitor time not run but jump!
With one hand I push toothbrush
With one eye I keep check on milk
Alertness aids in the morning rush
Time’s too alert for you to bilk!
Stairs to climb windows to open
Pluck some flowers from back garden
Time autocrat hears no bargain
Slow down a bit get a big burden!
I’ve to make time to blow her a kiss
Will be away whole day she’ll miss
While I peck I hold a biscuit
For the dog at the door badly needs it!
I don’t ever think time kind to me
Give me respite a little time free
But chase it hard without relent
A multitasker bent on time management!
*In this thankless pursuit I can’t tell thee
If I manage time or time manages me
But one thing sure I make time on bed
For not just love but what cooks in head!*
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:02 AM UTC
Getting up early
Awake, only barely
Mist of tiredness through the day
Mask of alertness hiding your face
Cold and lonely nights full of work
Entry forbidden for the flying stork
One day you wake up, where's the time gone?
just sleep deprivation and heart turned to stone
Dec 14, 2021
Dec 14, 2021 at 6:05 PM UTC
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
-- David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2003 Many Rivers Press
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
make the reader/lover gasp for the reasoning for breathing
first order of the day, dreamer-reader,
lover,
shock the consciousness from stillborn to newborn and gasp
at what it takes to grasp the physical self
into a riotous state of alertness
recite sweet nothings in one ear,
newly writ lover tricks,
while nibbling on the other,
or perhaps
conducting a general physical examination,
a concerto of seasoning reasoning
your advisory on the human state,
the reasoning for breathing well received
1/7/17 9:59M
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
My appetite for life
And all its pain I have
Often felt has shrunk
Under all its challenge
As I have even sort to
Unconsciously share some
Of my precious pain
But that was as a young cub
Not a fully grown male Lion
But here I stand in the chaos
Of one of my fresh Kills
I have let to many voices in
Who are all these animals
Trying to devour my
My **** , my pain
ROAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND ROAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Get away from my ****
For you deny me my strength
My beautiful Lionesses and Lions
Return to ferociously feed
For they are all ravished
This is my pain so keep
Your distance little ones
Please do not diminish
My power by hiding my
Truth within your sweet lies
Or guesses , guesses and guesses
Please do not insult my strength
By creating a make believe world
And do not cover me with
Scaffolding so that you
may work on me , for I am
The finished article
I do not need to be
Held up or supported
With your ropes and strings
For I am no ones puppet
I pace and growl to warn many of
Who have eye's for my **** for they
See the strength it gives me
As my pride feasts
I stand tall with a dignity
As I own my space I grow
In statcher and my wobbly
legs feel like pillars of strength
My soft pads meet the earth
With a deep silence and alertness
As I stand strongly because
My feet always touch the earth
As the power of my leap is
Governed not only by the strength
Of my spirit but also with the
Firmness it meets the earth
For my power explodes when
The strength of my soul hits the earth
So I growl at all avoidance
And hunger for the truth
My Lions seem so alive
As they ravage and feast
While I stand and shine brightly
In my yellow sandy coat
Which glistens in the sun
As streaks of pure Gold
Start flashing and flashing
As the worlds projections
Reflect and bounce of me
Dare they look into my eyes
And see the ownership of my being
Learning to devour pain in life
Is not easy , but we need not
Look any further than
THE LION'S FRESH ****
And some where in their fury
We shall find our freedom
LikeLike · · Promote · Sh
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Morning.
Temporary ceasefire with insomnia,
Marked by cheerful birds.
Morning.
Start of hostilities with drowsiness,
Combating alertness ceaselessly.
Morning.
Opening salvo with heavy caffeine support,
Awakening the senses with hot beverages.
Morning.
Food, an uncertain ally.
Alertness or comas—it’s sometimes close.
Morning.
Battle lines redrawn,
But war continues perpetually.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 6:33 AM UTC
~for Cathy Leff, curator~
no bugler blaring ‘pay attention’ to me,
no emergent bad news bearish telephone cell call of an absurd tonal,
no alarm clock retaliating agin a humans daily defying double-slap,
no young children sneaking in, with a guard dog in accompaniment,
joy-ending a deep parental sleep from the exhaustion they induced
but as if shot, the humans burst into alertness,
from prone to moan, they instantly revert, becoming **** Erectus,
gasping from shock troop dreams, and a chest-pounding message,
a whisper growing, an ever increasing crescendo, an unnatural law,
an unsullied foot-stomping battle cry that self-terrorizes, undeniable:
write me, your poem, write me now!
ah, it must be 5:00 am...
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Are you ready for the main course?
Prepare the condiments
Thin oven mitts
Teas cozies
Lace doilies
It's just a decoy
Here lies the kid who was left home alone while is parents visited The North Pole
Try to consolidate the front door
And here's a laxative called LSD to aide your constipated mind
Now go on with the insurrection
And fight Parliament for the sake of the proletariat
Who's names are always written in lower case lettering
The limousine drivers
The skrimpers
The savers
The single mothers with bad habits who have to dance off skimpy clothing to buy formula for their babies because they're milk is tainted with junk
The weary recipients of justice obstructions
And catch 22's
Who have been singled out because they have monetary deficits
Console them
Until Eureka!
Grab some Q-tips and clean out your ears
Stop gritting and grinding your teeth
A new realization is in bloom
When did be aware turn into beware?
When did alertness become fear?
Forget and get over your
Remanding-accursed-sweet-tooth-fatigue-that you let in
Because it's all in your head along with the idea that hyphens make things look more important and scary
I contest all that ********
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Oh, the power of the bean.
Fragrant brown beetle, crushed
and coaxed into my ***
Steaming water poured and purified through
and through.
The gurgle of brewed alertness,
A universal aroma wakes the house from sleep.
The morning light lusters,
too bright for weary eyes.
But just a sip! Aroused from hazy after-dreams.
Warmth and life progress
from lips to limbs.
The body is present;
the day has commenced.
Thank you,
my God in a mug.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
Yet again you've stolen
Another night's rest
From my blurred eyes
And weary mind.
But what's one more night
Spent staring at a graveyard of stars
If it brings me closer to
You?
Closer to the one time in my life
I was truly
Happy.
I can rub the exhaustion
From the brown irises
You once called beautiful.
I can push through
The sheer desire
To do absolutely nothing
Long enough to make it
Through work.
And as soon as I get home
I can collapse on my bed
And stare at the wall
Or ceiling
For a few moments
Wishing it was
Your face instead
Before I close my eyes
And attempt to sleep.
But I know my body
And mind
Will suddenly be wired
With the alertness
And awakeness
Of loneliness
And longing.
Because I'm still too weak
To overcome you.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC