"observance" poems
A hummingbird moves so fast it buzzes,
but it hopes you don’t notice.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
May Day
Fertility way
Beltane honours life
A peak of Spring
Earth energies are most effective
Let it begin
All busting with potent fertility
The wheel of the year,
potential becomes conception
Nature is fair
Fire festival glare
Ireland celebrations
Feast of Beltane
Latter times,
Mary's day,
it was called in the rhymes,
they say
Bonfires marking,
the coming of Summer
Granting luck to people's livestock,
without mock
The first day in May Irish holiday
Beltane rituals,
counting young men and women,
picking blossoms in the woods,
lighting fires as the evening stood
Matches for marriages all good,
right there and then,
or Summer Autumn would be when
Medieval modern Europe holiday
Return of Spring observance
Probably originating anyway,
in ancient agricultural roots
Rituals and perseverance,
The Greeks and Romans,
held such festivals
People and their cattle,
would walk around bonfires,
and between rattle
Sometimes leaping over,
embers and flames
All households,
fires doused and re-lit
from the Beltane bonfire
Accompanied by a feast,
with some food and drink,
offered at least
May Day also called Worker's Day,
or International Worker's Day
Commemorating the historic,
struggles and gains made,
by workers,
and the labour movement,
reins without jerkers
In the United States and Canada lakes,
a similar observance known,
as Labor Day partakes on the first,
Monday of September not May
Beltane also sometimes,
goes by the Name May Day
This holiday strongly,
associated with Pagans,
they say,
for fertility come what May
The origins are in ancient play,
across the world this May Day
© 2022 Carol Natasha Diviney
May 1, 2022
May 1, 2022 at 5:45 AM UTC
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
don't you know
when you Discriminate
all it bleeds
is just hate
so
remember your fate
and
the ******
and the drugs
money
and the things
but are all these
qualities
inbreed between our eyes
i can tell you
its not your third eye
blind
open your mind
can't you see
all this negative
you can find
in the media
and all things of its kind
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
we live in a world
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejection
some say traditional
i see irrational
observance
correspondence
and the media belief
spreads wide
spreads grief
and leads to the thief
of misconstrued relief
all the people see
is a world
with a focus
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejections
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
generations of many
goals of collections
and directions
filled with all the empty
elections
then corrections
you say traditional
all i see is irrational
wait
could it be just the passion
and the dreams
is all that the
ocean and the streams
have created within
imagine a world
left in the sun
gold in the sky
clouds of what came
clouds of what come
diamonds on the souls
searching this land
only wanting to be free
in a world
of
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejection
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
whats with this hate
wheres the satisfaction
all this acceptance
leads to rejection
with every moment
etched in some back stone
my friend bobby
dylan takes my soul
before we all go down
we will all remember
this young mans aching brow
something will all find us
when were buried in the snow
Pompeii was just a mystery
and now it is our home
consumed with a sense
of hate and satisfaction
acceptance then rejections
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
Foolish Anger
I do not blame her
She can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed
Foolish anger
i can only blame her
she lives in the sky
never knew love
always together
entwined
by design
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
1. Initiation
Mighty waves traverse across
The realm of time and space
They Leave behind some faint imprints
While horizon slowly shrinks.
2. Observance
The boatman gives a vicious call
And the nets are put in place
If tides take a winsome turn
He would fill up his plates.
3. Discovery
The sunset lass builds sand castles
While sea breeze soothes her tender skin
Enchanted by her gentle smile
I write about my April muse.
Prashant Shaurya ©
All rights reserved.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 8:39 AM UTC
To my friend Julie R.S.
Being my girlfriend's best friend, it
Was bound to go either one way
Or the other. Now you
Name me
Brother.
When we share wine and guitars,
People sit down in the garden
Outside our open window
To enjoy. Your voice is proof
That God loves art and leaves its
Seeds within His children.
If I were you, I'd also pray as often
As you do.
You have much to thank for; and also
Ask. I sometimes ask too,
Why hurt so easily pries itself
Into the purest of hearts. Winter is
A cynical aunt... it'll help now;
Spring isn't; it's downhill from here.
I promise. And besides,
I sympathize with you;
But never
Worry.
You share the gifts of Beauty and
Strength with diamonds; gems,
Jewels.
I stood by your
Self-declared sister
In my godless snakeskin boots
In thankful poetic observance
As you were leaned into the
Water and said a self spoken Yes
To your absolute re-birth-Father.
I'll always respect you for that.
That, and the way you move
Through the ice-in-tummy-pains
That you are sometimes dealt
By the Hand of All Holding
And accept and withstand,
Knowing it's all part of
Your own Holy
Work-out.
I could carry you for years,
But your soul is loved by
Something so strong
It shines through
Your darkest
Hours.
I am as humble to that
As I am to our
Friendship.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Catatonic inscriptions etches through my textile discernment
Insidious cycles of turmoil encased within a festering distress
Uncertainty obscures my comfort into a chaotic complacency
Transforming the subtle movement of thought and bewilderment
Through the re-occurring sequences of paranoia and my uneasy psychosis
Haunting the whole of this psyche and the mental state I've come to fancy
A tell-tale apprehension of merriment and contentment may be a dismal reality
All the while being obsessed with the unfavorable outcomes I conjure within
But, I can't get enough of the disarray that breeds within my frail skull
So distant from what I feel in the ecstasy of my self-selected normality
The meek proposal of sanity has little to hold against these crooked grins
As this chaotic thought process leaves rationality as a vague ideal to null
Expansive introspection has no limit to what is perceived as validity
And, to be enveloped in the ambiguity and delusion of fact is so enticing
We all know that we've all come to recognize the fabrication of our own truth
The futile attempts to obtain an immaculate conviction in pure solidity
Is so wondrously perfunctory and constant as the life that i'm living
That I dread the day of departure from this hysteric observance of aging youth
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
How ridiculous
I have been
Playing on observance
yet; blind to reality
relentlessly searching
for what I seek
not knowing
why
When contentment was
within my grasp
Impetuous , Impatient, Demanding
Aching For Fresh Meat
Stocking, salivating
Only to want, then
Imagine ,Dream ,Fantazize
The Sensation
To Devour
Flesh
Man
A Supreme Being is Nothing
In the wake of a Woman
Hungry, for more
She
Allows His Touch
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
Hers was a life of compliance.
Fulfilment of another’s wishes,
observance of another’s needs,
conformity to the rules set down
in stone. She was the rubber of
beads through fingers, touched
by thumbs; the beads of the rosary
would be sealed by prayers.
She was the self denier, who put
herself last, one who sacrificed
pleasures for a promised salvation,
whose menstruations were reminders
of babies that would never be,
children which would never be hers,
dugs that would never be sucked.
She carried the cross through cloisters,
sandaled feet trod the paved paths,
heard birdsong, saw butterflies in flight,
moths at night in the candle’s flame,
she hidden away, unknown, no fame
with a saint’s name. And each morning
rising with the bell, kissed by the early
dawn, touched by the chill of early frost,
she lived and moved, all for love of Christ.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 1:27 AM UTC
As opposed to the observance of Resurrection.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
A Featherweight mind takes a long draw of a fragment of time cut out exclusively for the purpose of observance
There are delicate fingerprints elegantly marked vertically along his forearm
In case of insurgency, please start here
Dread mixed with a sense of urgency
For what purpose were those fingerprints placed
If not for the eventual laceration
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:51 AM UTC
If you saw things through my eyes could you even imagine what you would see?
In your observance is it I who appears to be unique?
Perfecting bold lies,
Stay aware for the deceptive man in disguise.
I'm leaving myself empty-handed,
You've taken great kindness for granted.
Pretending to be innocent but secretly manipulative,
You say to deal with it, move on, and forgive.
We lack understanding to be cohere,
Eventually the feeling fades then disappears.
Bending and twisting each other's thoughts our minds seem to be the killers,
I cannot get enough of this sickening thriller.
Your sweet painful words linger in my head and crawl through my skin,
Your sweet painful actions are buried within.
You're like poison in my veins,
But yet,
Our infatuation with each other still remains the same.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
Driving down the blithe boulevard with my heart in the drivers seat and the world at my jaunty forefeet; aquatic nature abutting the equator serving as an anomalous educator and metaphysical communicator
Submerged in a state of angelic maturity; dopamine manumitted upon the sensible observance of internal assurance while living in the fullness of magnetizing, sunlit nourishment.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Hey Fragments! a Haiku Contest!!
Spring is everywhere.
We want everyone to contribute to the first, "Quarterly Season Greetings Haiku Contest!"
We will select a panel of judges, who will send me their three favorite haiku submissions. The haiku with the most selections will be declared the "winner" and enjoy a warm feeling of satisfaction.
Please, have those haiku in by the end of May
No limit on the number of submissions. Your haiku should follow the traditional form, but as always, the poem is more important than strict observance of form.
Write Every Day!
John and LP
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 7:22 AM UTC
Vexed by the dots that are strewn above the clouds.
My intense gaze fixed upon the moon
and the mystery it shrouds.
As my observance leaves home freedom is found.
Invigorating.
Beats of a cosmic drum,
binding strength to my essence,
keep my flight in animation.
The beads of cosmic spring,
trickle the length of my lips
and I dance across the space between each star.
Laughing and crying
and learning the truth of it all,
and seeing the probabilities.
This was my lasting message
as I couldn’t fly forever,
be at one with your planet
for the bounty of nature
is endless,
and our lasting possibilities
simply rely on that.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Obscene as war is, none must ever forget
that poppy-red
stands
for the human blood shed.
Remembered, the fallen who fought in a war,
the red poppy
reminds
what they thought it was for.
Observance with poppies, each one a life,
given for
freedom,
as the means to end strife.
Precious the poppy-red, needful the time
lest we,
forgetful,
miss their reason as prime.
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Constantly averting controversy,
Hurting from unnerving problems.
Not the worst thing I've unearthed inside,
The birth of mind-disturbing strife attacks my life, so I
Turn the knife and end the plight, cause
That's the kind of fright that strikes the right delight I see in sight.
In darkest night, sin harkens.
Vibrant demons mark their silent dealings with violence.
Screaming stops my lungs, no breathing,
Retreating feelings try to stop the gun from ringing,
But the voice inside my head that's pleading
Remains important and so appeasing.
Like a fiend I resort to that deemed purport,
A pristine contortion of me and distortion,
A means for war, hence demons worsen.
Cursed, I've seen adverse **********
Burned, at least the urn was worth it.
Dreams are but a sea of urges,
Waves of hurt; a ****** circus.
Earth was keen to be so perfect,
But dirt, it seems, reversed its purpose,
Purged of peace by scheming serpents.
Words convene to verse excursions
Terse, obscene, and birth diversion.
Learn to breathe when yearn disperses,
Purely seek to preserve incursion.
When earnest deeds immerse subservience,
Evil creeds are sure to surface,
But thoughts serene will soothe the burdens.
Heaps of greed control these words,
Though, predisposed in certain versions.
Weeds they grow in fields of ferns, and,
No one seems to know the urgence.
Flowing streams bring treacherous currents,
Twists and turns that reap insurgence.
Since discernment keeps deterrents,
Court the beast with immense observance,
Or disease will curse life's brief occurrence.
Treat the deepest ravine of courage
With leniency so peace emerges.
Dreams are but a grieving circus,
That creep beneath your bleeding surface,
Seizing leagues of zealous verbiage,
Leaving hurt to skirt loves purpose, return concernment;
Submerge the cures for feeling worthless.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
Day passes on to night,
Night passes on to day,
Every second that passes
Witnesses my heart's decay.
My heart lost in its previous agony
Sheds tears of sedation,
Numbing its own passions,
To forget its almost amputation.
My heart has suffered many losses,
So my brain continually consoles it,
My soul now conflicted,
As to how they should together truly fit.
My heart and mind have lost their balance,
Lost their ability to function and thrive,
Together as a partnership,
Under the observance of my soul's derive.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 4:14 AM UTC
Intuition at it's finest when feeling the seasonal changing of its metamorphosis is coming ahead. A foreseeing truthful measure of action (over the wonder of its own inevitable evolution).
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 12:49 AM UTC
my legs
scrape together.
like the ears of an elephant
they slap against each other
against the cool vinyl seat
they have chained me into
with a medical observance.
i squirm for comfort
for completion
for complacency
but all i feel is the rustle of fabric.
the woman stares,
her eyes caring
but cold
unblinking
mirroring a skeleton back at me.
the doctor
(what number, i cannot remember;
there have been many
nameless faceless coats
trying to help)
the doctor looks deep
deep down
his eyes clocks
sundials
scoreboards
ticking away
the hours
the ninety-three pounds
i have left on this earth.
the air compresses.
a whale in a bottle,
i rip the chain into squares
and run
run
run down the street.
i am fine.
i am invincible.
a crack
trips me up.
the world seethes red.
a stranger's hand rights me.
His eyes are kind.
and for the umpteenth time,
someone asks me.
and for the umpteenth time,
i feel my mouth
shaping the word
so empty and sterile
habitually.
"not--"
but then
i stop.
and words come up
like my offering
after meals:
forced
necessary
raw
apologetic,
just
needing to
come out.
Dec 22, 2009
Dec 22, 2009 at 6:22 PM UTC
Canada Geese wedge over the river
this evening as four Snowy
Egrets fish bankside; on
the Sixth Street
Bridge, a man
dangles his pecker between the rails
and streams jaundice yellow, a Ford
squad passes, flashes a red
beacon and drives
on.
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
carve the bark
you plus your love
testified
made hard
heart needs a box locked
otherwise the feels fly
or maybe the big ought's that hover over us elide
that long hair lush inside
a sin if let down or
maybe jus one small discretion
to put behind you
or maybe it's an observance
to a rune more ancient
than history and its codes
your orb at work
his swell under spell
turn around and don't look over your shoulder
little spoon arch
wrap it in silk
spill the milk
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
ever find it funny how how how how it all just goes on
no matter what
people say this, people say that
doomsday around the corner
at the drop of a hat
but the next day always comes
bright n early and on time
when will the day come?
''''''
words breaking
bodies shaking
beautiful thunder
ringing, reverberating throughout vessels
ethereal, physical, inanimate
cars rocking steady
beds creaking
echoes of soundwaves vibrating
Precipitation
always been waiting
for such a moment
touch of flesh potent
been waiting for this moment
is it everything wanted?
''''''
fading
swaying
breaking
subtly
noticed
when walking boldest
incomprehensible to consciousness
but deep within ancestral blood
subconscious behavior
''''
eyelids paint black
out like a match
burnt from decay
feelings never want to stay
stand still, yet sway
falling off on a decay
dry whippin with no delay
but with a fade, deep down, once locked in cage
where answers lay
within;without
look around
peepin corners
under curtains
eyes looking
something cooking
brooth for thought
keys to mind identified
moving on with presence of now
move like crow bringing woe to everyone around
feel positivity under negative dualistic attributes
working towards retribution
ever so steadily, but with swift foot guile
familiarity with these tiles shifting and forming, morphing into something new, always and forever nothing I pretend, but something ego cant depend.
~~~~~~
Pilot
lighting away
lightning distant, not far away
close like word on street
but stuck in suburbia
trapped in isolation
land molested by white devil hands
rooted deep in the finest grains of sand
in ancient lands
Looking outside of the glass,
reflections of past, a future smudged, but faintly visible
Outside of the glass is the infinite moment of now,
somehow,
untouched by human hands,
something only observed outside of observance
energy in abundance pouring out of fountains in mountains o brooth
no one believes, but its a truth
partial to the bigger picture
is a caption really necessary?
''''''
on and on and on and on and on
it goes ever so
built oppression
neglected expression
stuck on false thoughts and feelings
redirecting sails into new lands
a new perspective
new flesh
~~~~~
Evil consciousness
Suzerian possession takes sway,
stage the show
(haiku)
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 3:06 AM UTC
The gift of observance comes rushing back
As half-lit skies circumvent in upheaval
Seeing the hidden guise for what we all lack
I quick deduction spawns an intent retrieval
Grasping the whole of what my peers are concealing
A half-ass attempt to make sense of these feelings
All of these words are so hollow and insignificant
Pleading a case as if they have a sense of morality
A conceded hope that ends up as a wasted expedient
The building block pieces to a straight willed society
Fixated mortification's that serves as our propriety
Keeping our relative outlook as my favorable notoriety
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 12:37 PM UTC
Mosaics scrawled in oak,
Charters to a new dimension,
Candles bring forth grey smoke,
Filling a stygian room with tension.
A hallowed oversoul awaits a sacrament,
Crimson stanzas chanted, a return anticipated,
The King still needs a benighted advocate,
Atonement was made, with a blade of onyx, serrated.
Throughout the hall, a sensation,
First came the scent of velvet nectar,
Then, the impact of consternation,
And all among the walls, dark and unearthly spectres.
An observance had concluded,
As the veil was torn by madness,
And the microcasm, polluted,
A world overthrown, by the abyss.
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 12:34 AM UTC
With purest wings and thoughts divine,
the soul, so pure, gazes down and smiles,
for humans are peculiar creatures indeed,
what would it be like to live like that,
if only she knew.
Day after day she watched them play,
at war with each other and themselves.
Day after day she watched them love,
themselves, each other, and everything else.
Their emotions so strong and clearly shown,
yet changing at the blink of an eye.
How? Why?
Little did she realize, cracks were forming fast,
her halo slowly becoming rusted as she smiled,
beginning to feel as they feel and know as they know,
from simple, innocent observance.
One day it finally shattered and underneath her,
her world of heavenly delight,
the highest beings were angry at her change,
tainted by humanity's thoughts,
wings ripped off and in a ****** mess,
she was kicked down to the world she so loved to watch.
Tears escaped her as the drop commenced,
betrayed by her now-felt emotions,
down she plummeted, but much too far,
now chained and slaved to the demons of her new nature,
lashed with pain and feelings unwanted,
though it was far too late to return,
so with screams of regret, words of rage,
she slowly sank to the level of the creatures,
only envied for their happiness,
which is sadly only found in innocence and ignorance,
neither of which is to be had anymore.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC