"refashioned" poems
Mist
Irrelevant timeless drift moisture in a collate state triggers dispersion of thoughts and intent what to
Pursue an airy void trouble and worry automatically release the hold on the mind and heart to become
One with density and mystery the familiar evaporates it lays thick and low on the country lane just a
Haze a disjointed broken maze comfort it announces in the softest tingled ease touches your cheeks
What pleasing sensation engulfs you the freedom the same way that fire and colored lights hold you
Transfixed childlike wonder to question to ponder the unseen and the unknown without caution the only stumbling will be that of surprise a gentle moist kiss a touch of a cool hand it is time to assemble
In all the places that are at other times forbidden but now all restrictions are lifted those submerged
Weighty thoughts begin to rise they sway with the sweetest rhythms an unheard but felt symphony
Accost your deepest emotions go with the flow release your inhibitions to the undertow take up the
Oars of this imaginary boat paddle out in deep waves add the silver streaks of moonlight you are only
The lightest shadow mix with all of existence restore depleted stores that were wasted and burned up in
The chaos of life you possess powers that run beyond all reason answer this how long are you going to
Last surge with that truth lay down many items inferior to your nature pick up the bright pulsating bars
Of energy drain them then lay them aside march in the heady knowledge an immortal stands here and is
Passing through the shallows of an earthy walk to strands invisible and their treasures are indescribable
They are my inheritance now they too are surrounded by a mist this day I have bridged the gulf and
United the two the secret place of the most high is to be my dwelling place I think I can soldier on until
My change comes and it will but until it does periodically I will come and sojourn in this tapestry of the
Gloaming and be reborn refashioned by truth that destroys all enemies and affords to me victory
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 3:53 AM UTC
Irrelevant timeless drift moisture in a collate state triggers dispersion of thoughts and intent what to
Pursue an airy void trouble and worry automatically release the hold on the mind and heart to become
One with density and mystery the familiar evaporates it lays thick and low on the country lane just a
Haze a disjointed broken maze comfort it announces in the softest tingled ease touches your cheeks
What pleasing sensation engulfs you the freedom the same way that fire and colored lights hold you
Transfixed childlike wonder to question to ponder the unseen and the unknown without caution the only stumbling will be that of surprise a gentle moist kiss a touch of a cool hand it is time to assemble
In all the places that are at other times forbidden but now all restrictions are lifted those submerged
Weighty thoughts begin to rise they sway with the sweetest rhythms an unheard but felt symphony
Accost your deepest emotions go with the flow release your inhibitions to the undertow take up the
Oars of this imaginary boat paddle out in deep waves add the silver streaks of moonlight you are only
The lightest shadow mix with all of existence restore depleted stores that were wasted and burned up in
The chaos of life you possess powers that run beyond all reason answer this how long are you going to
Last surge with that truth lay down many items inferior to your nature pick up the bright pulsating bars
Of energy drain them then lay them aside march in the heady knowledge an immortal stands here and is
Passing through the shallows of an earthy walk to strands invisible and their treasures are indescribable
They are my inheritance now they too are surrounded by a mist this day I have bridged the gulf and
United the two the secret place of the most high is to be my dwelling place I think I can soldier on until
My change comes and it will but until it does periodically I will come and sojourn in this tapestry of the
Gloaming and be reborn refashioned by truth that destroys all enemies and affords to me victory
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
Irrelevant timeless drift moisture in a collate state triggers dispersion of thoughts and intent what to
Pursue an airy void trouble and worry automatically release the hold on the mind and heart to become
One with density and mystery the familiar evaporates it lays thick and low on the country lane just a
Haze a disjointed broken maze comfort it announces in the softest tingled ease touches your cheeks
What pleasing sensation engulfs you the freedom the same way that fire and colored lights hold you
Transfixed childlike wonder to question to ponder the unseen and the unknown without caution the only stumbling will be that of surprise a gentle moist kiss a touch of a cool hand it is time to assemble
In all the places that are at other times forbidden but now all restrictions are lifted those submerged
Weighty thoughts begin to rise they sway with the sweetest rhythms an unheard but felt symphony
Accost your deepest emotions go with the flow release your inhibitions to the undertow take up the
Oars of this imaginary boat paddle out in deep waves add the silver streaks of moonlight you are only
The lightest shadow mix with all of existence restore depleted stores that were wasted and burned up in
The chaos of life you possess powers that run beyond all reason answer this how long are you going to
Last surge with that truth lay down many items inferior to your nature pick up the bright pulsating bars
Of energy drain them then lay them aside march in the heady knowledge an immortal stands here and is
Passing through the shallows of an earthy walk to strands invisible and their treasures are indescribable
They are my inheritance now they too are surrounded by a mist this day I have bridged the gulf and
United the two the secret place of the most high is to be my dwelling place I think I can soldier on until
My change comes and it will but until it does periodically I will come and sojourn in this tapestry of the
Gloaming and be reborn refashioned by truth that destroys all enemies and affords to me victory
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 6:45 PM UTC
The beat of the old drums echoes in my ears,
Their sound has been remodeled, refashioned,
Into gun fires and explosions,
A cynical melody,
A symphony of unnerving sound,
The play their tune upon the lives of others,
These warriors play a part of the piece too,
Walking the reddened fields,
I am struck by the sight,
Each marred face and blood soaked body,
As I continue walking on,
Their eyes still intense with their efforts & passion,
To protect their homeland but not in vain,
My searching eyes wonder at how they accomplish such a task,
Of violent brutality and heart shattering pain,
Yet they still manage to have some strength,
Down to even the very last second,
As I walk these hallowed grounds once again,
I am reminded of their selfless act,
That allows me to be standing now,
Where I am.
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 5:48 AM UTC
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
Not only our daily work schedules,
But reduction in pollution and demand of fuels.
Yes it made us shut our places to worship.
But has opened a window to evaluate our personal relationships.
Now queues outside restaurants and cinema is absent,
But we have got time to ponder on our future and relishing our present.
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
Definitely you cannot travel and be social,
But this has taught you to go 'Vocal for Local'.
Yes it has hampered the growth rate.
But now we value whatever we have on our plate.
We have been quarantined in our own homes,
But now we know life is more precious than thrones.
This lockdown has refashioned everything.
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 3:20 PM UTC
There is a symmetry to war, state
against state, brother against brother,
like Siamese twins joined
headlong, thrashing and flailing
with one impassioned heart
for the right to be.
And still the world turns, and still
the hearts of defeated men beat strong
with savage hopes for a lost generation,
and the hearts of victors, once blinded
by angst and ire, observe the failings
of their triumph, see through old lies
that urged them unto death or death,
and old traditions, caked in blood,
are refashioned and reborn like bell-
bottomed denim, and still the world turns.
How was it, in that desperate hour,
for a man born to cotton fields,
born unto the yoke, born beneath the whip,
born unto the mercy of his masters,
how was it to be borne up to see the white
cotton flag raised in supplication, to see
old masters wavering in ploughed furrows,
like cotton billowed by a Northern squall?
Was there, in that desperate hour, a scream
from the past, "Beware, the Templars!"
as old chains were cast off, and melted
to forge chains anew, and the masters
of old were replaced by new masters
of state, and old fashions like slavery
replaced with chains worn by gangs over
bell-bottomed denim?
As long as men are masters of men,
Man will abuse his fellow man;
Profiteers will sup the fruits
of free labor, honest business
will decline, and prisons burgeon
as the poor become poorer, and
the poorest are inducted into
the perfect symmetry of an
imperfect finite state machine,
until the next uprising.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
I told you, I really did. I told you this was exactly what I didn't want to be & maybe thinking like this is just a product of greed but life was real because I was sad & it feels like I'm better but those are just letters on a page in an obituary no one has to write. What's the point in swimming if the water's too shallow? What's the point in living if this mind stays hollow? The rope has been refashioned & the guns been unloaded but that's as far as I can get in being goaded to lead this good life.
I can't even remember what I did this week.
I told you that not wanting to exist was what made it worthwhile & you told me it would be better if I was skillful, half smiled. I live life in the moment but forget it the next, so I'm not sure you were right to say this was for the best. My brain feels superficial, an art piece on the wall, are my only options to feel everything or to feel nothing at all? So yeah, I'm not sad anymore but I did tell you so, & now that I'm happy I'm scared that you'll go.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC
Begin.
Ready your work area and clean your surface.
Prime the texture of your canvas:
Smooth out all those exterior bumps and grooves.
Always allow time for the last to relax.
Laying your foundation is the subsequent step:
Be sure to pat a bare layer of skin all about.
Brighten under those eyes
before moving forward.
Once more, allow your layers to relax.
Contour those ****** features to reveal an under-truth,
illuminate curvatures of shadow and light:
Sweep in, sharpening under those cheekbones.
Sweep out, lightening the cheeks.
Sweep up, darkening those temple.
Sweep underneath, sculpting that jawline.
Sweep down, deepening the nose.
Blend, blend, blend.
Redden those cheeks:
Moderate your quantity,
balance your quality.
Add a splash of color behind those bright eyes:
Beige, Corduroy, and Chocolate.
Again, always blend.
Darken those eyebrows:
Bend the brow around—
highlight under that curve!
Line those eyes with coal:
Carefully curve over those waterlines,
Steady your hand, do not to smudge.
Curve your brush up, up, up:
Build those lashes.
Open those eyes ever wider.
Accentuate those relaxed lips with a pleasant hue.
Before the final step, double-check for any unintentional slip.
Dust with finishing powder before overlaying with a setting spray.
End.
Afterward, review your work:
First, remember your anticipating canvas, ready to be refashioned.
Now, appreciate her every extraordinary color and unique curve.
Finally, admire not just the craft, but also the delicate and dedicated crafting.
This reflection, our masterpiece.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
we are what
we pretend to be
caricatures of recycled
images and refashioned
motifs masquerading without
pretense of originality
carbon copies in dazzling relief
spun through cycles of roguish
vogue realities
you are what you Tweet
we've seen enlightenment dawn
and watched god die while
the planet relay-raced about
a decaying sun
drifting
children of the Digital Age
words are less than wind
they are fingertips tapping
luminous screens
spineless
lackluster and vain
beyond belief
we run our mouths
while the world burns
here's more Tinder for
the fire of distraction
GoFundMy upstart disaster
vegan hippie child of nature
punk anarchist activist
academic film enthusiast
novelist critic intellectual
psychologist pathologist anthropologist
will we practice a
discourse on delusion
or find solidarity with Sisyphus?
we are what
we pretend to be
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
I reach back through memory and mortality
To inspire that which I am to become
Exciting the bones of my ancestors
Their feathers of black and red and white
The golden rays of dead and declining stars
Deflecting off the face of the moon
"Is life still real if it echoed?"
"Yeeess," they exhale from eons past.
The first and only answer to an ageless urge
Stretching to me, through me
Filling the unfathomable empty
With intimacy and evidence
New issues to nurture
Most seeds remain in the shadows
Dreaming of a shift in the design
Stardust progressing toward potential
Again and again and again
And again the bond is broken
And refashioned
I am remembered
In unsettled frenzy, my soul awakens
Setting alight my future
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 10:14 PM UTC
I repeated every lesson,
hearing every drowning
word...
Every syllable that was recast,
but I never learnt a single...
done over,
duplicated..
Reproduced as another version of
the same verse..
Everything was!
refashioned,
redone, remade..
In the fashion of what was before.
But even though I sat in every class..
I never took a single word in..
The teachers changed, but I remembered
that one who made me resit
every lesson....
I cant see anything in this crammed space...
But hopefully one day some
one will cover me for a toilet break..
And I'll be peace....
I resit every lesson and still
all I see is deathly words..
Never heard,
but reverberating though hollow bones
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 2:58 PM UTC
The robotic politicians voice
coded to denial
by default
the wearing down of hearts and minds
pushing up and out for the fresh air of freedom
held down beneath a numbered existence
the plus or minus of bank accounts
the number of children being born to carry the weight of their elders old age in taxes, and scams of insurance and scams of life chances
and love is denigrated to a wilful back seat driver who no one listens to
not since the sixties did rebellion and creativity have such force for the changing of the bloated politic ruling classes
and poets? Who will listen through headphones refashioned to old fashion and claim it to be uniquely new, and who listens to poetry anyhow, retune the radio, and change the World.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC