"hearkens" poems
There's no replying
To the Wind's sighing,
Telling, foretelling,
Dying, undying,
Dwindling and swelling,
Complaining, droning,
Whistling and moaning,
Ever beginning,
Ending, repeating,
Hinting and dinning,
Lagging and fleeting--
We've no replying
Living or dying
To the Wind's sighing.
What are you telling,
Variable Wind-tone?
What would be teaching,
O sinking, swelling,
Desolate Wind-moan?
Ever for ever
Teaching and preaching,
Never, ah never
Making us wiser--
The earliest riser
Catches no meaning,
The last who hearkens
Garners no gleaning
Of wisdom's treasure,
While the world darkens:--
Living or dying,
In pain, in pleasure,
We've no replying
To wordless flying
Wind's sighing.
4.2k
Cosmic kraken,
gelatinous tentacles that choke the ventricles..
air tainted by its pungent pores...
daylight darkens,
its presence hearkens,
for the light to shine no more...
Heart is hardened
vestigial veins with not blood but pain...
wrinkled cartilage writhes at lore..
of the divine despair
I now come to bear,
graces this unworthy *****
"I beg I pardon!
spare me the road to your celestial abode!"...
whispered screams that scrape throat raw...
silence snares...
at my futile affairs...
with the sadistic nexus between doors...
"Oh I cannot fathom
creature with unworldly features...
and blade fashioned from nebulous ore...
what terrors await...
and to permeate....
my flesh forevermore!"
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 11:39 AM UTC
away from the light we fly
with an innate attraction to darkness,
and when it hearkens,
we willingly follow,
covering our ears
gouging our eyes out
without thought
we wallow
in darkness
again
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
’Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th’ earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers’ love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th’ other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows ***** as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th’ other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
2.7k
*Moonflower in the Pale Moon Light
Gently Unfurling
Willing to Nights Delight
⊙
Cloistered under the Bright
Clear Sun.. Shutting Herself
Till the Day is Done
⊙
Secrets Revealed beneath the
Veil Of Darkness
Light of the Moon
The only Language
To which She Hearkens*
* * * * *
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Gray Owl hearkens
the dappled daybreak knell
echoing through
the wildwood forest stand;
rock doves and frosty stones abide,
where a marooned heart doth dwell,
disrobed by the longest night's frigid touch
Timber stand grips tight
red clay and bedrock of ages,
postured tall and strong
as eagle's spirit throne
Pine cones hide
in the low drifting clouds,
ripe acorns tumble down alone
unto a windblown
shallow earthen grave,
hillocked beneath
the sky-high canopy
Bones of branches,
furrowed bark from burled oak,
wood-grains of pith,
natural gnarled achings
peeled by the shivering
wind's breath
Paling autumn memories
grow dim as the receding sunlight,
recollections of ebbing Jasmine's
mellowing fragrant balm
waft aloft in a favorite fading fantasy,
the edge of winter metamorphosis
bears down with a prodigious weight
of a different kind of retreating light;
brindled Queen Anne's lace
hold sway across
the tawny frostbitten meadow
imbuing the poignantly
whetting breeze
The blink of an eye winks,
to catch sight of
an intimate glimpse,
an unspoken
solitude holds forth,
the mesmerizing coo of rock doves,
reverently mirroring
the sanctity of the forest wildwood
lingering amongst the frosty
ferns and stones
The harmony of tranquil silence wanders;
only the bowing resistance of the boughs
manifest the shapeless wind’s
whispered breathe
swirling above the labyrinth threshold;
therein lies an unfractured fault line
rooted deeply beneath
the earth’s crust
like the sonorous heart
of a sanctuary hearthstone
Hence there is symmetry
felt in silence that only whispers
in the deep toned consonant
of our own harbored sighs
a holy human blood link
born of heritage wilderness heartwood
beats keenly alive
written by: harlon rivers ... December 2017
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
"Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
-Ozymandias
I.
O wait for us, Colossus
as we wait - and throw you
to earth: from heaven’s gates judge you
unworthy - to hades’ lands assign,
where your iron limbs make mincemeat out
of anguished homes - by tyrants
you were thrown but floated aimless past
the drifting realms where once lay hell,
and fired you your rocket boosters - apollo’s gift
blinding still your eyes -
II.
next, awake: the visage of the Child
in your face - languishing, affronted:
two vast and trunkless legs of iron glare, only to grow
rigid still - slumping at His feet: with heart-engine smoking,
eyes hollowed-black,
lying in slumber with giant's knees bent,
in grasslands rest and where hearkens the plain - He cries out:
’tis you!
though dwarf, He is - he kneads your iron
by grass, and your wounded legs the earth
now christens, snd blesses still your sleep.
III.
He moves forth with grass blades and twigs,
crown you a nest; and bear stones unrolled to where
your feet first kisses ground.
-2.17.16
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Love is so vapid for me,
I feel like don't want to love anymore,but
When i see you;
I startled and ponder,
Why god takes a lot of time to,
Make a men like you for me ?
Every dames fairytale dream is,
A hubbie who hearkens patiently.
Now i got mine.
But,
I want to utter something
I thought this was a real seal,
You & me were locked
A padlock of emotions and feelings.
I had cried so many tears
I felt all alone.
Its made my heart black ,
Like a chunk of coal.
When times runs out
My heart cognized everything
Now i come from the hazy sphere.
I can sense you now.
You fell in love,
From the moment you laid eyes on me.
When, I juxtapose you with the star's
He feels covetous because,
You and your love is most beaming.
Whem you clutch me in your arms,
Is the best loved part of the day.
Over a period of time,
I got to know the real you.
Sometimes you are my bestie
Sometimes my soulmate
Sometimes my acharya.
I know you,
Like no one i have ever known.
I am sorry if i do something make you really mad.
I am sorry for breaking your heart but,
I can't promise you that we will never fight
But i can promise,
With all my heart
I will always love you and never leave you.
When i say adieu, promise me you won't cry,
Bcz the day i will be saying farewell,
Is the day i die.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
In the darkness,
Reverberation
… empties silence.
… tap; … tap; … tap.
The tapping?
The pendulum‘s grandeur;
A passive state… to time.
Low, slow,
… distant echoes
A bid
… to serenity’s seduction.
Sweeping circuits,
Lap …long,
Against a pebble filled beach.
The tide calls;
Whoosh;
…whoosh;
…whoosh;
…whoosh;
Such foreboding waves
Call.
Surrender;
Approach,..;
Remember…;
Return…,
Taste …
The salty- sweet
… water’s sway.
Ache for desire;
To expose
… forbidden love’s impoverished tears;
An enchanting lure,
… hearkens
Come; … far
Beneath the rocky cliff.
My heart;
Wanting … ;
But no… !
Sanity holds…
It’s… not time.
A snare’s line rings;
Time moves…;
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Time, waives protest
… to this recital’s longing embrace.
Home,
Simply composed;
A love’s submerging refrain.
A door,
… stills, open.
A room;
The keep;
Through a corridor’s long shadow,
The silence speaks,
Pride’s measure
… ticks.
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Old tatters
Curtains dance.
Soothing drifts
…cool salty air.
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
A calm state;
Moonlight.
Relics of a heart;
Composing drama plays to shadows;
Cracks on old plaster walls.
Glimpses return
… where waning movements hide;
The essence of sound and silence
Intertwine.
An old window-seat
… gives audience to the stars.
In eyes of youth;
A young girl‘s heart… lives
Once more.
Time falls
Moments recede.
Ah, my love;
I hear the Harp’s comb play
As gentle as a sigh,..
Rolling Home…; Rolling Home…;
Rolling Home across the Sea
A vow, misspoken;
To wait…;
Still…
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Golden hair;
Your fancy to heather’s yielding flow.
A hundred long strokes;
As… soft tenders weep.
An altering hue;
… fades of time.
Gold;
Silver;
Now, twists shimmer of soft white pearl.
Time combs these long old satin strands.
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Youth now spent; To wear once more
Soft lavender, love-knots.
Ribbons flow…
Aging wrinkles where once
Plump lips reach desire;
Now, the gentlest breeze
… plays prey of a beating heart
Memories.
Take to flight.
… tap;
… tap,
Yesterday is almost here …;
Years abandon
… to the dew scent heather;
Eyes close
To such need
… to touch.
To…
To…
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
The deeper the veins
of a silent rising
fountainhead reach,
awaking a muse
more chilling
than the truth
in the blood ―
a cold
stillness stirs
that lets me
feel an
unheeded sigh
cast in the wind
A breathe
of words
from a sudden
burst of silence,
tossed like a
handful of dust
lost in a rush
of wind ―
a beclouded
murmur fleeted;
holding your breath
as the aching
passion
manifest,
no longer
containable
I really wonder
if you even know
or care
who's behind
the dark
cracked glass ―
you learn to live
with what’s broken
to survive...
learning to look
in the eyes
of a dark horse
in a tight-lipped mirror,
to hear what’s
pushed back down
unswallowed
Staring down
the muted throat
of the voiceless;
feeling the anxiety
of held breath,
turning blue
afraid to exhale
If you look
at these words
and remember
there was nothing
left to lose,
then you'll see
the meaning ―
I don't need
to hear you
tell me to re-lock
all the doors
I wish I never opened;
knowing there are
still moments
when it leaks out
of my silence
Someday,
at first light,
a songbird
hearkens
the morning
dew's passage;
I’ll take heed
a song
of deliverance
and rise up
from
bended knees ...
but right now
I’m still learning
how to live alone
Jesse e Stillwater
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
A rose that only knows sunlight
Can never understand rain;
A heart that's only known gladness
Can never understand pain.
Eyes that have never seen darkness
Cannot comprehend hope;
Passions that have never felt torment
Are fires that can not be stoked.
But wisdom that hearkens to anger
Will someday turn its cheek;
A bold king of cruelty
Will someday join the meek.
Though the good and the bad
Writhe in confliction
Inside us all
Is a whole conviction.
Two parts to a whole,
Two sides in the glass,
The push and the pull,
The future and past.
We stumble about
Our hearts divided in twain
Eking out answers
In our fight to remain.
We ask ourselves
Whatis wrong?
What is right?
Too scared of the dark
To embrace the light.
We cannot be happy
Without having been sad
We cannot have good
Without the bad.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
HOWEVER IT DOES NOT FOLLOW THAT ONE IS INHERENTLY GOOD AND THE OTHER, INHERENTLY BAD!
SUCH WORDS ARE USELESS
LET THIS NOT CAUSE YOU TO STRAY FROM YOUR PATH,
OR TO GIVE UP HOPE IN REASON.
WHILE THERE IS NO TRUE, UNIVERSAL GOOD, AND THERE IS NO OBVIOUS, DEFINITE ENEMY:
CHOOSE THAT TO WHICH YOUR HEART HEARKENS. AND FIGHT, WITH ALL YOU HAVE, AGAINST WHAT IS THE ANTITHESIS OF SUCH.
BUT NEVER SAY YOU ACT IN THE NAME OF GOOD.
NEVER CLAIM THAT YOUR ENEMY IS THE EVIL IN THE WORLD.
For Those who Know, will have no choice but to pity at your fallacy.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
Blue eyes dazzle the wretched sea
A lonesome gull calls out to me
It hearkens solitude unnervingly
I’ve sailed for leagues toward lands of lore
From whence come olden tales of yore
Of precious gems and forgotten ore
A wrathful queen dost rule this olden land
Brimmed with savage creatures and golden sand
Towards the fiery sun I direct my hand
This journey given from words of tale
Whispered at home on verdant vale
Has sent me to fight this mighty gale
Locked with vast blue in enmity
Facing horizon’s eternity
I blind pursue my destiny
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 4:10 PM UTC
"Slowly, silently, now the moon..."--Walter de la Mare
If only the days slipped soft
Eider down from quiet skies
“Slowly, silently now the moon”
Crests and ebbs in the star swept horizon
Mercury moments I consider the sinister things
The rush of blood banging at the back of my throat
The cadence of daybreak
And heart break and darkness hearkens
Scurrilous thoughts scatter faster
Roaches at the flip of a switch
Writhe in the light
Seek solace in shadows
Rats scrabble for higher ground in the downpour
Drown me now but I’ll never be clean
I carry the disease of this civilized beast
Scorpions under my tongue
And splinters in my skin
The higher rungs are toxic
And the air thick with afterburn
The antiphon of the apathetic
Chirrs me from daydream to entropy
Peace is hospice for poets and fools
Grit under my nails
And ***** in my mouth
Forever falling forward
The warp and weft stretched
Taut expectation
Of the cut that never comes
Just let me fall
Feather light and quiet
Let the gravity relentless
Have her way
TLBoehm
040113
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
solitude in sight
waving sunlit grass hearkens
sacramental bliss
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
Cardboard box on an empty street
Snow lightly falling
A small figure, huddled inside
I hear her begging
Just for a light
Her hands are blue
Her hope all run out
Nothing left in her
No more will to go on
I want to move on
Enough cold already in my heart
A small timid whisper
Comes from her mouth
Not more than a breath
Nothing close to a word
A streetlamp shine nearby
It lights up the box
And hearkens the sky
The small face stares up
Timid and frozen
I do not know what I have to give
But I open my heart
I reach out, and.
(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
in the belly of her fragrance
laid and bared(it's where
the unclad baying of superior
determined fruit
hearkens genially my quaking
and my venom
to deftly smear my soul
in swollen anemic) hysteria
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 7:27 AM UTC
One of the basic concepts of art
Is that within every creation lies
Fundamental shapes shepherd by an
Organic compiling of lights and darks
Bending to formulate shadowed tales.
Stories. Myths. Epics.
Triangles and circles rest undisturbed
Scattered rhythmically like smooth curves
Contouring to the whims of the dance...
Yet, when infusing detail into mapped
Shapes, the stories are no longer the same.
Haunted and forsaken.
But still, such a delicate face hearkens my
Pencil to life.
My fingers, to smudge these fine lines
Drawn into the organic creation that is you:
A lovely imperfection.
However, I never seem to get this line correctly.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
there will be no sounds,
the road is lonely tonight,
travelers will stay off the
asphalt ways, the blackest
of nights
will not be pierced
by headlights
animal eyes will not be bright
spots appearing to float lightly
to escape, in the darkness,
no engine noises will echo in the trees,
and cause mothers to gather their young
and tell them in animal voices why
no one is allowed to go out after dark
even for a family walk to the park,
across the treeless way
where they can play
with garbage cans' contents,
but rather stay in and be content,
with the gathering of fur with breathing
in the still air, restful sounds and a
peace to be shared with care and oh,
but there will be darkness that hearkens
sleep with dreams of play, teeth flashing,
rough fur rising along the spine,
just don't cross that line,
and leave the nest alone tonight,
for even the darkness has teeth that bite.
©DWE112013
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC
The wisps of the rainbow
streak through the sky:
The soaring spectrum of the tears
in all its vibrant glory.
Shades: Tints: Lengths: Depths
of redemption
diving onto the land
into the arms of those
who cry for it.
For it is receptive of the tears of men.
Together, the tide hearkens to the beacon
to fill the fallen
with a submersion
of rushing glory!
And in its descent, building charge,
stranding streaks of silver shoot
deep into the realm
piercing the souls
of the worthy:
Throwing them to their knees...
Engulfed with the life: The surge.
Sobbing joy. Laughing praise.
Raising their heads to the sun:
The mighty
city of emeralds
from which the path
of the soaring spectrum
begins.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
There a dawn before the dawns
the first of the Gods that drunk of,
that we have a world
to cherish for:
light beyond all death,
hymn that hearkens to wisdom
a vast beyond the vasts:
oh our anchor past the
storms of lives,
this morning, Regina by love,
may we be of peace
drenched in Thy infinite
presence!
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
My heart hearkens at warm gestures of humanity
That penetrate beneath cynicism
Inspired by Love's magnamanity
I surmount soul's cataclysm
The generosity of one soul giving to another
Without expectation of returns
Is the spirit of a kindred brother
In whom the divine flame burns
Together we transmit blisses and gifts
Known only unto heart
Its truth like balloon lifts
On adventure soul embarked
At warm humanity my heart hearkens
To its truth I, intruiged, listen
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC
Of these things, I'm sure
for, these things are true:
That God art the Father
of me, and of you.
He lives in the heaven:
The kingdom of light,
and destiny hearkens
us into its sight!
A body and soul,
of this we are made.
Temporal: Eternal
they never shall fade!
To grow and have purpose
is why we were born,
and we must improve
while in this sojourn.
Success is for certain,
and victory: sure
in every encounter:
For, I shall endure!
My passions: fulfilled.
My present is well,
and so is my future
my story will tell!
Exalted I'll die,
and saved will I be
In the kingdom of God
as prepared for me!
With God I will live
eternally blessed.
From trials, and pain,
and fear will I rest.
Of these things, I'm sure.
For, These things are true,
not only for me,
but, also, for you!
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
I inter this one along with his brothers and sisters,
All of them dead, wrinkled, dry, and spent--
Then cover their husks with earth
And wait.
Next Wednesday, here they resurrect in bodies
Nothing like the ones I laid to rest.
But greening life unfurling over that same ground that smothered them
Last week.
Where is the seed? I wonder, and digging shows that
It has been consumed by what it started.
Now verdant growth delineates its forgotten
Shallow grave.
And for some time I don’t recall the humble start
To which my viridescent vine’s indebted.
‘Til autumn, when the flower’s passed and pods can shell out in
My hand.
There, held in dusty palm I meet the progeny of
Last spring’s burial--
How like their father, and how many! Separated by that living vegetable
And time.
“The Seed is the Word” I know. I see it happen
As it plants itself in my soul’s garden patch.
Just words on wrinkled paper, ancient script seems long
Since dead.
But something new grows up in that same spot,
Some living thing that I had not expected
That seems not myself or what had grown there
Before.
It’s not the seed, but somehow hearkens back to my ingestion of
The pages in that dusty tome.
And I forget the exact words that sank into my being until
One day,
When an accusation flies my way--though wrongly hurled
By one who should have loved me.
And my response, unexpected, is not my practiced
Comeback.
What is my deal? I wonder. Where’s the anger and vexation
I should feel right now? Why the
Peace I can’t quite understand, and the total lack
Of pique?
Then I see them in my soul, breaking from the pods, thirty, sixty, and
A hundred: “Great peace have they which love Thy law, and nothing
Shall offend them.” “ Blessed are ye, when men . . .
Revile you.”
The seed I found in age-old text--now separated by the verdure growing
In my spirit, lush and full--is now
Mature and bearing fruit that looks just like
Its Father.
"But he that received seed into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty." Matthew 13:23
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC