"refashion" poems
We walk among hero’s every day.
And they are recognised,
But not nearly enough.
They all fight on the same team,
They don’t always have the same uniforms,
But they fight for you, out of love.
They get paid sure, just about,
But it doesn’t keep them there,
It’s their compassion.
They suffer long hours, and bad pay,
Overworked, overwhelmed,
Something we need to refashion.
Yet they continue, fighting for your health,
Mending wounds, treating disease,
Doing their all, doing what they can.
They do it with a smile, a friendly face,
They do it agile, and with grace,
Yet they’re just human, not Superman.
They’re on the frontline, hands on,
They’re behind the scenes,
Each a cog, in a massive machine.
But this machine is built by living parts,
And they’re breaking more and more,
Physically, emotionally, everything in between,
Yet they carry on.
They continue to fight.
A battle never won.
Recognised and praised,
These are our heroes,
Recognised, revered, yet still unsung.
Feb 5, 2024
Feb 5, 2024 at 5:59 AM UTC
The thought of you makes me want to refashion old Bible verses,
“Consider it a pure joy to be a part of this trial,” I whisper,
“And you know that the testing of faith becomes perseverance.”
The sound of your voice carries more overlapping melodies than
Hard brass mallets hammering at the tips of my fingers,
More depth than does escape the open casing of my grand piano.
The warmth that flows from your heart is a testament to my lack
Of circulation, despite my ability to swim through the ocean naked,
Far passed the pier and into the horizon, every ceaseless morning.
The sight of you tears me open, tears me open, until I am all
But unable to put my nerve endings back in order, despite the fact
That they are reinforced every minute of my solitary waking hours.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
I look at the maps hanging up on my wall
admiring the world for the best it got
yet i see
Poverty swell and trivial refugees struggle
and there are cardinal power wars
destitute crave for food shelter and cloths
O' why lord ?
"Its the beginning of the horror flick, my son
there are copious others , yet unaddressed and unresolved "
However i reckon
how simple it is to conquer despair hanging up on my wall
For today mighty fighter
stop and sleep a lil more,
cuddle your love and hold her a lil long
refashion your battle cry to cry of love
Shed tears its no harm
miracle will happen as you kiss her once more .
You are the puppet fighter, no doubt you are strong
they know your strength , they are foxy back stabbers brother
they'll aflame your soul ,
Don't forget you have love back home ...
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
Disarray. Disarray. This faulted circuitry is frayed.
Systems can't confirm how much more this one will take.
Analytic processes high priority. Still all sense's strayed.
Logical partitions unravel beneath the stress to break.
Crystalline optics upon this strange world of subconscious noise gaze.
Program failure. Segment reboot. Comprehension metrics left in daze.
Disorder. Disorder. Memory overflow. Execute purge.
Vent incinerated cores. Remainder to mobilize and merge.
Overwhelming, cacophonous static. A turbulent distraction.
Individual consciousness upon earth names it "compassion."
Empathy communicators struggle to gain adequate traction.
Perception requires of processors exhaustive refashion.
Limited sentient life in fragile flesh and bone shells,
Possessing organic electronics, upon unfathomable concepts it dwells.
Chaos. Chaos. Language insufficient to allow abstract assimilation.
Judgment of "human" notions is not within this one's station.
Now attempting to recalculate trajectory of exploration...
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Every time I say goodbye
I don't mean it much.
I will be bookends and you
will be a hat rack and people
will use our memories to sell
cars. There will be suits
hand-woven from our handshakes
and I won't cry even a little at
the soundtrack by the fountain
when your lips get fuller and your
eyes take on planets.
I will just say the words and
remember that when they
refashion me for proper use
you will be holding a businessman's hat.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 4:02 AM UTC
Just One More Anomaly*
Memory, how is it working?
Reconstructing what it will,
No matter how one wills it.
Using tricks or keeping still,
It goes downhill sulking, lurking,
Modifying all the while.
Date, event - assumed, imagined;
Recipe for roasted chicken, how and what the vitamin,
Where one laid the just used pen;
Truths about what might have been:
One is not amused or gladdened!
One reads histamine boosts memory.
Where to start: ear, nose or eye?
The husband tells a story,
But the story and the history refashion
Into joke or smoke, or expectation.
An honest man, he reconstructs time’s long bygone.
What and is there a solution?
How to boost the falsifying, garbled brain,
Train away the stigma and enigma?
Food: The marvel is the good it does, in spite
Of junk consumed both day and night,
Those lovely cells of memory;
Losing neurons constantly.
Interests, hobbies:
Training. learning, instrument…
Any bent, life but experiment;
Each callisthenic ‘heaven sent’.
A poem one way to speak,
Renewing bits new and archaic;
One in which a syllable will stick,
Inspired to get a kick out of the rhythmic lyric
Born in life.
Just One More Anomaly 5.29.2020 (formerly Another Autobiographical Anomaly 2.11.2019/Recomposed 5.29.2020) Pure Nakedness II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin
*Anomaly: oddity, peculiarity, abnormality, irregularity, inconsistency, incongruity, deviation, aberration, quirk, freak, exception, departure, divergence, variation; rarity, eccentricity.
May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 2:15 PM UTC