"risings" poems
I made you of breath
of shadows and sunbeams
of boundlessness
of folding out and in like wings
of fallings and risings
from the gravity of things
I am your leaves without
limbs or leaving
I am the circles and spirals
your body carves from air
your leaps toward heaven
when you most love the earth
I was before you and will be
after you, I am the center
and the circumference
I am within and without you
And I am your comforter
when the cold winds come in
I am the point on the line
I am brief and desirable
I eat oranges and watch
the Northward flight of geese
my being roars like oceans
I rock myself in the cradle
of self doubt and other emotions
I sometimes let take control
I rock the world like a baby
I kiss the air like my lover
here and here and there
I embrace you, World
I am your second Moon
that rose from the South
I am your eyes, your mouth
your star, your tree
and something else
I am sand, river, feather,
grass, moth, l am forever
yet lost and not found
and I am something else
and I always will be
something to someone else.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees
4.1k
Infinite amounts of definitions could not depict
The extent to which a structured norm
Is measured
Blindness adjoins clarity, while sight provokes vanity
It is an aspect unhindered, lacking certainty
A single word yet so many portraits
Drawn on the canvas of our linked pathways
If you ask me about beauty, don’t
For my lips would quiver nonsense to you, to me
The mass of the universe that surrounds our whole being
The endless rows of glimmering stars that speak to our vulnerable eyes
Or perhaps, the raging force of life that springs from within us
If you ask me about beauty, don’t
Because you would have to look at yourselves to see
The beaming smiles corresponding with velvet risings of cheeks
The abundance of glistening tears that have embodied those very same
And even, the flashing spark of joy which invites a feeling of utter content
If you ask me about beauty, don’t
Otherwise there would be an influx of sentiments towards
The prettiness of colored nature, steadiness of height-breaking hills
The calmness of the bare sound of waves crashing into an advocacy for peace
The building blocks of surroundings that determine you and me
So if you ever want to ask me about beauty,
Bare the consequences in mind
Just the elaborate thought of such a question
Could raise a plethora of reasonings
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
At times I’ve believed it
And at other times, scoffed,
One of the oldest of pivotal fears,
Mentioned in scripture and stories and hymns,
The execration is stinging my ears.
And throbbing, echoing, clashing rhythms,
With no beat ...such tension… Distortion’s risings,
A march over mazurka decelerating,
Curious uses for curious things,
Intestinal-pullings, intestinal strings,
Every warping conceived by my kind,
Like tearing of flesh and torture of mind,
Nothing that’s wholesome, nothing that’s good,
The truth bent, the opening crude,
The too-thin passageway out, understood
And my own rotting flesh is my food.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
Imagine we are home
and not lonely, imagine
our love which once cut
through strange waters
like longboats through hearts
not slow and heavy
from the moss of fear
we are here and not here
nights in our land are sad
the risings of the moon
are like sores we have given
our women, and we cannot sleep
for what we dream
the enemy will do, like filling
our children's throats with rocks
and place them in shallow swamps
where they will rise up
to tell us of fish with odd shapes
and men with torches
coming in from the sea
up to the beach on a black night
throwing open the gates
to our dying city.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
O, these fine, fashionable, fondlers
Of pondering wisdom’s,
In the idioms of earthen
Consents,
Gray case encrusted,
Attitudinal cements.
Parapet and barrier,
Laments of rancid carrion.
Self bestowed upon slinking shoulders.
Into the Frey of Man speak,
Into the realm of blood and bone,
Ejected into the otherings
That man alone bestows.
Upon his brothers ****** brow,
Upon his trodden heart,
They seek definition
In epitome
In enfilades of bias and violence.
They languish under opinionated stars,
Under sun’s of blood red risings.
O that the voice of this could only die a death
Befitting some horrid criminal,
And peace come in its stead.
A vision of a dreamer
A poet writing wishes
Clichés of lost hopes
In search of soulful riches.
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 6:13 PM UTC
I come home smelling of someone elses sweat
Crawl into bed next to wife
Knives of guilt
Bleeding the bed.
Maybe I have done heroic things in past lives,
Defended outer galaxies from daemonic risings,
Villages under my protection,
Medicines made and distributed.
But for now I am forty
And I smell of someone else’s sweat
And I am next to my wife
In my bed
In my house
And it doesn’t feel all that heroic.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:56 AM UTC
When the magistry has ended, /
The echoes of repose begin to resound; /
Although there is, there has been a great wanderer in me, /
The beckoning has not ceased, /
Nor has my heart been claimed in abeyance. /
A story, one with risings & fallings, /
One with an unfalteringly great divide, /
Has bestowed a parcel from on high; /
The Winds, The Earth, The Ocean, The Sun, The Moon, /
They are the pulse of this Grand Tapestry. /
When we are enraptured, /
By ensorcelled irides /
We become; /
Sometimes being enamored /
Means our journey is re-willed; /
Moreover, we see the world with Brand New Eyes. /
Allowing every experience, to re-modulate my thoughts & feelings /
I realized uncertainty was not a barrier, /
Rather, it was my nexus to transcendence. /
Having a time & space in which to reflect, retrospect, & introspect was an aegis, /
Now real & authentic happiness is no longer distant /
And faith is near. /
Jul 12, 2023
Jul 12, 2023 at 8:09 AM UTC
I’m determined to find joy
in the most unexpected places.
I hope to inspire more with my joy
than I have, so often, with my pain.
I’m not perpetually depressed
and bound to a broken spirit.
I'm just, quite often,
an expression of the emoting
of the broken who feel muted.
I do have consecutive days
of the light of grace shining
on me and on you in ways
that I can see clearly.
I do have months of risings and settings
with smiles if for no other reason
than because blindness enhances my being
so that I may become all sensing.
Yet, when blindness brings the days
of my binding to the lovers of my painful cries
and I'm too blind to even sense enhancement,
I remain determined.
There is joy all around us in places
that we never think to look until blindness
forces us to sense on all levels
the beauty that love placed around us
to diminish the sting of pain.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 12:46 PM UTC
Upon Waking,
Death with beating heart
denoting end of days
in which we’ve had not one-
but two risings
of the same sun.
Dec 29, 2009
Dec 29, 2009 at 4:55 AM UTC
The world was our leisure
and somehow we escaped
the starvation of
losing ourselves
in boxes.
Riding through the risings
and fallings of hills.
Blue Skies where we floated
with our heads held up
by strings.
Your eyes stealing glances
at my eyes as you lit your pipe
and drove with your feet,
and thin white clouds
streamed across your ears.
Myriads
of deep colors
and multi-talented
maneuvers.
You were an Angel.
Earth toned,
through the sun roof
and the blue grass
that your eyes danced over.
It was brilliance--
and it burnt my mind
and spilt my soul,
as you churned it
through these
lifeless windows.
I wanted to stay here,
out in these rolling hills
forever, where we rolled
with dispersing waves
of radiance, and
cadences of new moons.
Sometimes,
I'd walk along the dirt
flowing streets into town
stopping to tell all the farmers
how you were out there
making time stop.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
~
lost in thought, a deepened musing,
far away from noise and music,
welcome silence, unthreatened hush;
twilight’s western curtain of dusk,
slowly lifts, unveils her features,
displays a show for just two creatures;
celestial risings’s muted dance,
neath the moon one takes his stance,
the mighty hunter, Orion’s threat,
till from the chase he falls in sweat.
the stars connect in tale by numbers,
whispered tell from lips each utters;
in dreams our bodies join the arch,
heaven’s hosts with whom we march,
a nightly parade of planets calling,
till herald sounds the curtain falling,
when daybreak brings them sweet relief.
as one by one they fall... in sleep.
~
*postscript.
a trip to Central Washington's wine country last week under a rising harvest moon begged a nighttime detour to Maryhill’s Stonehenge. the starry night, free of city light pollution, the constellations, the shadows of a full moon on cold granite... all so hauntingly beautiful... reminds us that we are gifted our role in the nightly parade of stars, the breathtaking march of planets that we need only look up to join.*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPK6iq0gnks&
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Out of free mists
Out of twisted vines
From the shadows
From the bayou
I come
From hard times
and early risings.
From pain
and suffering
From fresh loss
and old happiness
I come
From old scars
and new wounds
From broken antlers
and whole spirit
From whispering leaves
and swaying branches
I come
From dark green forests
where secrets are
kept
and mosquitoes
buzz
From mountain
after mountain
From hard losses
and easy wins
I come
From complex life
to simple passing
From joy
and
sorrow
To greener pastures
I will go
My circle complete
Mudawar
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
"See, I've found that not a lot rattles you"
I can't let it in my surrounding world
From populist risings gaining their roots
To drugs in the school (such as the bus girl)
I've seen school street plays, and blood on hall floors
And news that doesn't care about the truth
I've heard your fights with mom, in and out doors
I've seen infection spread amongst the youth
So call me jaded or darkly funny
But the way I am, you just have to be
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 10:22 PM UTC
"Close your eyes darling"
She hums.
"Risk the sleep."
She hugs.
Patting his back she whispers,
Words of sweet dreams and late delights
She lulls him asleep,
Pressing him closer she wraps him in sheets,
As soft as clouds and as warm as the sun
Tempting him with comfort
Promising him safety
She brags him asleep
The steady risings,
The peaceful falls,
Tells her a story she already knows
Leaning forward
She kisses his head
As he is whisked asleep
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
as the clouds roll over
in their sleep, upside down
counting sheep
sinking selflessly
the sun peaks through
as clouds cry away the rest of what they worked for, ebbed into the world
shining a light on dew drops left on our skin
our walls, tangled in nature, gracing
the grass beneath our feet
etched into rivers an impressionable flow
sweet risings coming home
to say hello
to thank the downpour
to know what we know
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC
The hearth of the fire reflects
the heat of the passion night
This is more than just ***
It is how things are done right
Our breath stands still in the room of lust
Come closer, let’s be at peace
As the feelings of drive grow, and we must
exercise this primal release
Rhythmic risings of your breast
indicate excitement of the soul
Darling, you know you’ll pass the test
Let’s make our sentiments whole
Like hot candle wax, I’ll slide down your body
Submission is a turn-on, so the pleasure grows
No one could replicate this into something gaudy
Let this be our personal night to shed our daily clothes
Nakedness is joy, and pure locations connect
into something that is universally and surely correct
The soft moaning poured inside my ears
Boil myself into flaming sears
There is no written script in all of this
It just comes naturally
For the ultimate feeling of bliss
Is the true meaning of ecstasy
Don’t be conflicted, it’s only me
I want you to lie back and relax
For we explode each other’s loving glee
Into a simultaneous ******
You and I are together here
And I want to flip all your switches
Let polygamous feelings disappear
Trust that I’d never do this with the other *******
So we end off together, and the deed is done
Surely now we are in our prime
And I hope that you had a lot of fun
Because this act was not the final time
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
Verdant comforts,
cleomes and dalhias,
walks by cobbled paths
Artists and their pedestals
incapsulating these vistas,
therein lays the beauty
we all knew inherent
in each and every of our dawn risings
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
our utility costs are getting
well out of hand
to pay for them you need
more than a grand
last week my electricity bill
came in the mail
and the amount on it
near made my heart fail
never do we get any respite
from the ever risings bills
they're hitting us in the pocket
with few happy thrills
utility accounts frighten
consumers everywhere
wallets and satchels
are feeling the despair
soon we'll be going back
to the days of candles and lamps
as they are more cost effective
for us to use in our camps
modern day living
is so outrageously dear
the dollars we're forking out
fill our limited finances with much fear
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
before the shutter of sentience
and we fall at the foot of the sun,
there are many risings.
let us not, then, shirk
our confession or our convalescence
in hoods of harrowing;
in consignments of death.
for crossèd ashes will surely
give rise the phoenix again
and most high flight.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Great robes of red oak,
Cast away each Fall season,
Snows bring silent vows.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC