"blackwater" poems
#***Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains
Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul
Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway
Rooted in boulders***
*scattered within
milestones
and*
***riverbed Cornerstones
Gray
As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn
With intent a higher law's freshet flows
For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue
Rolling currents thickly bestow
A river of simple truth lay bare
A stream of random kindness betides,
Rivulets of unconditional love abounding
Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence
Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests
Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers
Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide
Blossoming undercurrents gushing,
resounding,
rhythmic ebb and flow
Verve undulating wholly alive
Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ―
Wellsprings arise from bedrock
ancient mother earth
A surmounting light leavens abidingly
From imploring water's flowing river song
To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings
divergent from thither and yon
Through which to portage
A way to carry back home in psalm***
h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
They punch me in the face
Until it is apparently asymmetrical
They call me human waste
And tell me not to be sentimental
When they're insistent
On our difference
I begin to see asymmetry
In the way they're treating me
Does anybody remember or even care
About what happened in Nisour Square?
A Blackwater slaughter
Killing sons and daughters
An unprovoked
Macabre joke
The militants were convicted
The victims remained deceased
The locals were livid
When the problem would repeat
We don't mind taking innocent lives intentionally
When we see their value asymmetrically
Does anyone remember when the city of Fallujah
Smoked like a hookah?
Thermobaric rocket launchers
That used depleted uranium
To melt insurgent craniums
Left behind waste
That is radioactive
The citizens could taste
The shame of being passive
When they couldn't reject
The spike in birth defects
A child is born with its heart protruding from its chest
So we can more easily grab it
That child was born with an asymmetrical breast
Because of our capitalist habit
Contractor corpses hang from a bridge
While we stand on a ridge
Separating chaos and order
A symmetrical border
Order oppresses
Chaos undresses
Both cause messes
We need to see each other equally
Or we'll continue seeing sequel sprees
We need to stop seeing asymmetrically
And adopt a completely loving creed
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 6:24 AM UTC
The moon asleep in the well under
The surface of the blackwater, four
Stars of steel and a badly done
Impersonation of my-
Self,
Erase and compensate
Repeated his voice from the bottom
Of the glass, you
Were shining
You said it again
In Neverland there’s no more room
For the Lost Boys
And she - the moon in the well - had
Lost her lips, removed
Her cuticles
One after the other, she had
Consumed a few names
From the wings of the doves, there
Was no more vision, no more dreams, it was
A realm of shadows, no
Lament was rising
To the ceiling, blood was coming
Back modulating itself in clots, no
Punches
Only water
A lot of water inside
The well, where the moon asleep used to
Lie
Staring at the sky
The bars
The coins
You were shining, locked outside
Collecting
The smell of iron, the colour of dice
A heart broken in a thousand valuable gems, a small
Horse, fragments of coal, your *******
The moon in the well was drowning, was crying, it
Couldn’t be done,
Here is what.
It couldn’t be done.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:01 PM UTC
The Munster Blackwater
had a steely, corrugated,
cloud reflected look about
it today, sooty, in fact.
Paisley said he would
never give up the blue
skies of Ulster for the
grey skies of the Republic.
But The Ulster Blackwater
has the same hue as ours,
so tell me then, what is
the cause of that Mr. Paisley?
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 5:39 AM UTC
I would rather eat every grain of sand
Off of every white sand - black sand beach
For a thousand - two thousand lifetimes
Than be anywhere near you or them
and to attempt and cough out every reason
Why I must do this and leave again.
There is not enough fire
On this God forsaken earth
That could come close to that
Inside of my heart and
My eyes will never close
Or come close to your mouth
As long as there is water
In the salty seas and as long as
That blackwater flows
Through the old oak trees. . .
I will never be inside of you again.
There won't ever be an end
As long as you keep adding more
And more pieces to the conclusion.
The story is over,
It's time to go to sleep.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
It Dwells on Me
What I've Become
So Close to Me
End of the Line
One Life to Live
Believe in Love
I **** Myself
Under This Flag
-
Blind Suffering
Fear of Dying
Heart Is Crying
Never Enough
The Flame of Youth
The Sound of Truth
Fast as a Shark
Blackwater Park
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 5:58 AM UTC
... and people wonder how the world is so ******
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
from far beyond the catalog
of outward facing eyes
have you tried this heaven
on for size?
deliveries to the ancient gods
chilling tales siphoned from crimson fingers bring
invite the tearlet hydrangeas in blackwater morning
pilgrim verbed and possum-eyed upon the beady flesh
aches upon this figure draped in moonskin
the mystic sewn in lightning wands
yields powers too great to speak upon
it gleams across the emptiness
but drowns the sorrow and suffering
brings the venom to the bite
where zebras yaff and witches cry
each tremendousness too great to let the words pass by;
under veteran protest guard, blank canvases persecute
the artist for the crime they could commit
********** every noun of every subject
black succubus startled from eating the fetid meat
where robin hens reveal their sighs
inviting the trembling glitter to linger deep upon the doorstep
brief yet over simplified
explained under duress
alone the student begins to profess
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
“Blight into cold blue and obsidian water sky.
I await to graciously glance at sunset and smile,
I must renew my bones in dynasty of deity,
I have been feeling an awakening sensation,
I must still clear all my earthly levies,
As I sense awakening of a simmering rage,
The day that since has died a desperate light,
That light that must get stronger by the day,
Today is dead latency in the desolate land,
My heart welcomes you once again my love,
My season my woman my deity my immensity,
Every road leads to the door step of my heart,
For without thee I will roam with a hungry heart,
It is blunt to pause to make an end majestic creature,
Nefarious it was for suns to store and cache my will,
Skies black water befuddles me and constrains me,
Moving heaven and earth that which we were,
Made all the stars weak by time and fate,
Every ode will disperse and die as soon this will,
Ode to Blackwater”
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/20/2018 ©
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
At Blackwater Pond
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have
settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
#A flake of gold I found in your soul
A boom town it shall never be,
Except for the one digging your hole
How you were left suffering.
Curse those murderous mines
And **** those mosquitoes,
I wish it were me a thousand times
Your soul off to greener meadows.
Don't be scared to cross the gate
Baron Samedi now guides,
Loneliness to acclimate
A widow's final goodbye.
"I never knew afterwards for how many hours of that journey I had flown with a corpse for company because, when I landed, the man was quite dead." ~ Beryl Markham#
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
It is where I went,
when the pubs closed.
Just by the bridge was
weir, noisy, but I tolerated
the river in all her moods.
At least, while the effects
of the Guinness lingered.
There, was a sense of freedom,
something I never possessed.
Even the driftwood was going
somewhere and I not capable
of going home.
White swans came by when the
town slept, cautiously moving
on the still pools at the opposite
bank.
Envious of such serenity,
I questioned, their reason,
for coming up the Blackwater,
when the pubs closed!
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Academi
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 7:19 PM UTC
Come ye to the meadow of the tooth
Lay down, take nature by the hands
For Autumn is braking aloof
Come join us at the meadow of the tooth
Blackwater invites us to view
The abundant bounty of our youth
Rope swing is first for me
Watch out your napper is near that tree
Break out the picnic full of choice
Scream out your pleasing celtic voice
We leave nothing there to see
Except warm memories of the birthday glee
Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 6:58 AM UTC
Generally referred to, as
the shortest day, but we
prefer to call it the longest
night, here in North Cork.
Because where I live, in the
town of Mallow, on the river
Blackwater, The Milky Way
passes directly over our house!
Ps.
It was from here, last century
on the bridge, that the cow
was seen, jumping over the (
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 4:01 AM UTC
Old smoker sending one ping for distance. Downscope,now dive the boat now soon.
Dive the boat.
All full ahead now down 40 degrees.
Blackwater,Blackwater.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
If one were to assess the
I.Q. of all the fish in our
local Munster Blackwater,
which do you think is the
thickest dumbest of them?
In folklore there is a story
about Finn Mac Cool and
The Salmon of knowledge,
so, according to that, this
one can be ruled out.
Michael Flatley of Fermoy,
(not a fish) is trying to sell
Castle Hyde for 12,000,000
even though he apparently
paid 20,000,000 for it!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5IdZ27CHgo
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
Two bottle necks meeting at the
same intersection in Mallow.
At least, the river has sense
enough to flow one direction,
Cork Council has no jurisdiction
over that, Heaven forbid!
One would assume that evolution
is not in evidence, therefore, familiarity
might be contributing to the illusion
of nothing's changed, so why alter it.
Ant tracks are the closest analogy one
could use as a visual example, or simile.
En passant traffic, pausing periodically
proximate, for a petit tete a tete, en route.
Mallow Bridge is a meeting place, where
people come to pass the time, literally.
Unfortunately, The Blackwater view is
obstructed, by imposing granite walls.
What if, we rallied for rails, those red lights
would no longer command our attention!
<>
Mallow Bridge 1853
two lanes for horse carriages
and a pedestrian walkway.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
This is a poem for the Blackwater
of your being
where death lives
beyond your seeing
and the white swan floats
above your keeping
This is a poem for the Blackwater
which keeps you breathing
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 9:21 PM UTC
When the sun went up,
it was a cold snuggle
No warmth
No shivers
Shaking to trembles
in a paradise
not mine
perhaps yours
Not ours
Theirs unknown
When the sun went down
it was a ****** paranoia
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC