"strengthening" poems
you are the center, the sun in the sky
warming, lighting, guiding those below
you are the core, the hub in the wheel
forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle
you are the earth, the bedrock beneath
supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives
you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives
nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams
you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land
tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth
your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart
from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever
you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child
reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away
you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives
fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
Strong and resolute, it stands
seeking with claw-like limbs
for sunlight and raindrops.
Leaves, crimson and gold
slip from trailing branches
coming to rest on frozen ground.
Whispering and sighing
the great oak bends and sways
in the icy wind.
Roots, beneath the surface
delve deep down
growing
strengthening
as ages pass--
untouched by frost.
The strong winds may blow
and wage their wars
brittle branches may splinter.
But still the oak stands
bending
not breaking against the forces.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
*transported back into those walls
running down the basement hall
i locked the door so i could hide
and reaching for a 45
with practically no voice at all
i sang along and prayed
to drown you out
does the soul regenerate?
what part of me did you take?
your verbal threats would make me gasp
no one could hear when I called out
record player winding ‘round
i tried to yell
but couldn’t shout
yet something you did cultivate
a plan you helped to propagate
for each and every time i ran
like a builder in a gym
i’d sing a song and sing again
strengthening the chords within
empowering my voice
©2016janetaylor
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:46 AM UTC
The candle light flickers with such intimacy,
Celeste bodies colliding in allure,
Leaving only marks of compassion,
Turbulence and vile noted under the moon light,
As people envy our love in the other room,
The charisma and sparkle in our synchronization,
The heart melting and charming sensations,
My feet limp and my head spins,
With every stroke and touch that you trace along my back,
Goose bumps seem to increment,
****** emerges that weaken the chains in my soul,
Hangover
Strengthening my love and awareness towards you,
Enthralling enchant,
Chamber of secrets revealed,
A new dawn seen,
Replete words,
Embelleshed and kept,
Diffusing angst and reviving love beat,
Singing me deep lullabies as I sleep.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth
7.7k
I wouldn't even recognize you,
nor you I.
How we have changed and grown,
how the years and loves
have formed us.
How the trials have toughened
or beaten us.
I hope you are well.
I hope that the world has not
stricken the love from you,
and that the lives which
surround you and which you surround
still smile upon your kind soul.
I hope you have not been beaten too much.
I hope you have faced down more trials
than have faced down you,
and that the things which you have conquered
have been strengthening instead of
diminishing to your spirit.
Of all hopes, I hope that you still
find a reason to smile
every day.
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
I know you are part of my destiny
So I haven't cried as much over our separation
True, I did cry an ocean of tears
But not so many to drown the grounds I stand upon
I said words of frustration
And whispered cries of surrender and desertion
But I am open to emotions and those words allowed release
-But- what I suggested in heated state of mind was just that
Suggestions, not proclamations nor plans
You know I tend to submerge myself in evil waters
In order to rise from them with strength even greater
Those shouts you may or may not have heard were the waters I was wading
And now, I am back to the heavens with a heart more unbreakable
Refreshed and replenished with the purity of home air
I remain sure of the decision I made that day
Don't worry, I am still certain of my true love for you
No- More certain of everything
I guess it took all those months to realise it
I needed to break down in strengthening
To lead the way to the point of exhaustion
Because now, it's your turn to stand ahead
As I deep down predicted, my words did not gain action
Although reactions were clearly achieved
Though words were controlled and questions avoided
Your eyes that trick you, are as always unable to deceive me
I guess what I am trying to express
Is my undying true love for you
My heart is unbroken, despite what I said
Still holding you within, still cradling our infants to come
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
Eyes stare...
Into nothingness,
The jigsaw of to be’s,
Arranges and rearranges;
Into an appeal of mirage...
Swelling the oasis of life!
And when the glare pierces,
Eyes blink;
The jigsaw settles,
Synchronized with reality;
Strengthening my mind...
To derive the quirky balance -
Between the could be’s ;
And the one that is!
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 3:51 AM UTC
The Strength of The female carrying a nation in her womb, leaders, criminal master minds and you.
Feeding clans, communities and villages, nurturing earth. Sheltering the youth, in storms of the future ahead, wiping your tears strengthening your heart again.
She is always there and has The Hands of warmth, holding you tight to lands of joy
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
We set out from our homes
With aspirations bright
A bag pack of skills
And a sceptre of perfection
A potion of blessings
To keep company
We are complete.
Through the low nights
And during the blazing noons,
Through the hard needles of showers,
Until we reach the land of flowers,
We unravel
Secrets of the deep and the dark
We gain and yet sometimes loose
We fathom
Through the layers wise
And make our axioms
On a quiet night however,
When we plunge in retrospection
A star shines bright
Connecting and completing the picture
We are but one glowing dot from the many
And the canvass completes
With the treasure of family lineage
All encompassing and strengthening
A synecdoche of life.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
Oizys, son
From behind the leaves, I saw you, trembling
In your presence, your power strengthening
In the empty, midnight parking lot
While the street lights hummed
And moths danced around your illuminated frame
You turned slowly, onyx eyes of shame
And dirtied bare feet, male hair long and white
The street lights flickered when you blinked and cried bitterly
And I saw, for my first time, the eyes of Misery
Achyls, daughter
You were in an empty field
No premonitions did you wield
An ancient silo in the distance
Leaning over a chasm black lamb
Dark skinned, dressed in black robes
With tribal painted face
Digging earthen fingers into its black lace
When you looked up, I saw your cloudy eyes
Churning of a storm, cataract yet wise
Your lamb had absent vapored eyeballs
The Mist of Death made my skin crawl
Hypnos, son
Secluded in a cave by the sea
A silent, empty place to be
While gray waves crash into jetties
The clouds gather in the distance
Poppies at the mouth changing time in an instance
I go in your palace and rub my cold skin
For pulsing blue glows from deeper within
You, a lanky youth, with thick brown hair and heavy eyes
Sit there with a paper mask
Illuminated by the penetrating glow
In the center, surrounded by whale bones
Humming a song I remember fondly
You trapped me in your Dreams, singing lullabies softly
Eris, daughter
Violates a bedroom with utmost hate
There are paintings of kings and statues of satyrs
Pillows of silk and animals on the walls
Usurping the gold clawed palace
Silent but kicking and throwing with malice
With black skin covered in a chalky white substance
I peek through the crack in the mansion’s door
Lips formed in a silent shout, you notice my presence
Naked and bruised and plagued with no voice
Suddenly stops and lays against a ****** wall
Through your electric black hair
And fiery red stare
I witness a Child of Spite
Woman of Strife
Nyx, mother
I am a crawling shadow of trees
And wicked heart of night
I am the wax on the cold leaves
And the glow of the moon’s light
Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
I needed to feel her next to me..The pumping of those warm veins and the beating of her exhausted heart. I felt this emptiness, this unsettling chaos in the cracks and holes of my being..It sat ever so restlessly on the brink of death and insanity, whispering taunting words into the tired positive side of my mind causing each piece of my heart to break further and further, deeper and deeper into insanity. I wasn't so sure of how much longer I could sit here with a synthetic smile on this bruised, rough face, just waiting for someone else to find me and rip me from the fists of insanity and put me back together again, someone who could resemble strength in every sense of the word and would know every aspect of the worth in my being..In my mind, I had told myself so many times that none could ever love me the way she had portrayed, the way she had done..and eventually my gullable heart began to believe it. There wasn't anyone else, how could there be when we are destined to only one true love? With each kiss and intricate touch, I felt this shock of aliveness and beauty, a feeling I never wished to forget, never dreamed to have lost..Somehow I found myself in that same cold, dark room wondering where she had went, wondering how could I have lived like this so long..keeping it comfortable not letting all of her in...I gave up so much for a love so strong, but I pushed her away and she began to wear thin. I broke her heart for what broke mine, not purposely, but in a way that not even my mind or heart was realizing...For all it was worth, I entrusted this broken heart to her, hoping she'd know exactly the remedy needed to mend what's been torn apart..and she did. Oh, honey believe me..she did. SHE was the remedy and I was the patient..When she left, she was my demise and I was her mourn.
When she gave up, when she walked away not daring to look back, she was afraid I'd see the tears in her eyes and grow weaker to the sound of her footsteps on the cold hard ground, gradually fading into the rain and fog. It broke my heart to watch her leave, she didn't want to, but it was for the best...and each night she tells me.."I'll see you again someday, my love..maybe not tomorrow, or today..but someday." and in that moment my heart cries, for a love that died..and I will never be the same.
Until she's home in these weakened arms, strengthening every aspect and complexity of my being, I will forever be naked, stripped of all sense and feeling...Until the day my love returns, I will stay home and wait for her.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
All the earth speaks to Your glory Lord
The trees strong and tall stretch up to the sky
Giving food, shelter, shade to so many creatures
The flowers so delicate and beautiful bringing color
And joy to so many. A wonderful gift
The birds, insects, and all creatures create a symphony
You are the master orchestrator Lord
The wind: at times gentle and pleasant others powerful and destructive
Sometimes moving or inspiring, still more, pushing, prompting
Water: reminding of patience, calm, creativity
Great power. Life giving and Life taking. Water shows
The power of teamwork.
Fire: so much power and destruction. Violence and death
But cleansing, purifying, strengthening too
A little bit can be light, a source of pleasant warmth
A guide and used properly a blessing; attractive to others
All nature all earth speaks to Your glory Lord.
Praise and Glory and Honor to You Lord of All!
Amen!
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
Have you ever felt that your life is wrong?
Like you're suppose to be somewhere else?
Like while you're mopping the floor of your lowly dishwasher job your vision blurs and the world around you convulses turning the mop into a spear swirling the sea of bubbles into blood and the far off voice of your boss mutates into the sound of your fellow warrior?
Or maybe when you walk into rain and the soft sound of the droplets on your skin turn into the rhythmic music of things against armor.
And as you look to make sit you're not going crazy the roar of an engine turns into the bellowing of dragons, horses and more.
These flashbacks transport you to another time where the world is mystic,
The pavement transmutates into dirt as the air around swirls into sudden shrills of strengthening speeches spurring you soulfully into skillful battle.
And as you speed forward leading the charge
of your battalion of skilled men a thousand large,
The flashback stops and you're in your time,
No armor on you skin..
Or lives on the line..
But your heart is still racing,
And you remember their names,
Of the boys you were leading,
On to glory and fame,
So was it a dream?
Or a memory from the past?
Or maybe it was from your life last.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
I.
I would not if I could undo my past,
Tho' for its sake my future is a blank;
My past for which I have myself to thank,
For all its faults and follies first and last.
I would not cast anew the lot once cast,
Or launch a second ship for one that sank,
Or drug with sweets the bitterness I drank,
Or break by feasting my perpetual fast.
I would not if I could: for much more dear
Is one remembrance than a hundred joys,
More than a thousand hopes in jubilee;
Dearer the music of one tearful voice
That unforgotten calls and calls to me,
"Follow me here, rise up, and follow here."
II.
What seekest thou, far in the unknown land?
In hope I follow joy gone on before;
In hope and fear persistent more and more,
As the dry desert lengthens out its sand.
Whilst day and night I carry in my hand
The golden key to ope the golden door
Of golden home; yet mine eye weepeth sore,
For long the journey is that makes no stand.
And who is this that veiled doth walk with thee?
Lo, this is Love that walketh at my right;
One exile holds us both, and we are bound
To selfsame home-joys in the land of light.
Weeping thou walkest with him; weepeth he?--
Some sobbing weep, some weep and make no sound.
III.
A dimness of a glory glimmers here
Thro' veils and distance from the space remote,
A faintest far vibration of a note
Reaches to us and seems to bring us near;
Causing our face to glow with braver cheer,
Making the serried mist to stand afloat,
Subduing languor with an antidote,
And strengthening love almost to cast out fear:
Till for one moment golden city walls
Rise looming on us, golden walls of home,
Light of our eyes until the darkness falls;
Then thro' the outer darkness burdensome
I hear again the tender voice that calls,
"Follow me hither, follow, rise, and come."
3.6k
#A year older, a year wiser
A wisdom always in the making
Nourished by experience
Vitaminized by failures
Strengthened by aspirations
Built on the foundation of hope!
Year after year
Brick after brick
Wiser
Cemented by determination
Watered by dreams
Cracked by blows
Repaired by a mason
Working round the clock
Anointing healing!
Get up man.
*You are a year older
But a year wiser*
And the fruits of this wisdom
Often unseen
Oftener unknown
Ripen inside
And then no more just yours
Scatter in the surround
Beget nurseries of wisdom
Building, vitaminizing, strengthening
Repairing healing
Your foundation
Your hope!#
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
Its an amazing thing,
Recovery is.
It's inspiring,
And strengthening,
But at the same time,
It tears you apart and you go through withdrawals.
But recovery is great,
Because it gets you away from the thing that's been hurting you.
Although,
The hardest,
And most terrible thing about recovery,
Is when you're not sure if you want to recover.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
I am gazing at an evening sky,
So fascinating! That these words are deprived to imply
It seems like a huge canvas,
That nature has painted so brilliantly taking its own time.
And with all its instinct & power that made it a bit divine.
It is certainly an incomparable art piece,
With fringes of scattered clouds amidst reflecting the rambling rays of setting sun
Best illustrating the sapient strokes of most blended colours that an artist can learn.
And that soothing cold breeze that flows through my fingers strengthening the happiness of being here.
And the whole scenery so elegant,
Stealing my contemplation so well,
That I feel unable to move my eyes from there.
I kept on staring it till the last emitted ray of the drowning sun dove into the deep darkened horizon
and the twinkling stars came, indicating the advent of another night of this beautiful autumn season.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
I sought satisfaction in stupid sheepishly and shallow strides.
Scared subconsciously, I swallow and sustain substance for pseudo self esteem strengthening.
I seemed of in service to slumber and stinging sadness, shots sank like ships, submerging into the sea of my swarthy stomach in seconds.
I somewhat sympathies as a sailor, sweating, struggling and swimming in slipping sobriety saturated in my sulking style.
Scanning swarms of serial swindlers, striking sculptures stances of self-doubt.
I stammer in a storm of slurs, ******* down my safety, stopping myself at the stoop of the saloon I see a seductive silhouette staging the space.
She stroke my sight, standing sanguine in scarlet, soul sold in high heels.
The smoothest sculptures in seven square miles were subjugated into scree and I was ****** in submission.
Stubborn staggering suitors, stand shaking silently as she is stopped by sharks stalking and snarling sycophantics.
So straightforward in suggesting their secret starvation to strip sensations, seem by seem, like a sub-par **** cinema scene.
They step and speak short.
She smokes off, stranding the scree in smoldering slaughter.
Its sad this soul-less sanctuary soaking up sorrows.
So self inflicting, and so satisfyingly side splitting.
She sported her spurned, scorned off into sadistic solitude and stained sticky stigma, sobbing to sleep.
So spent from simple stocked, stored and supported senescence of ceremonial subjection of ****** status.
I savior my sincerity, and stretched out of this strange stadium of stooges.
So long scarlet sanguine I sang softly, as she stole my sight suspiciously in sync with hers.
Sacrificial seconds split from smearing stolidity to sharing a smile.
That's simple satisfaction, so I seen scripted in sitcoms and shows.
Supporting sapiens in stasis to see sappy stunners on screen, to stare snoopy, as stabs and slashes strike socially into socialites of so called sanity and sovereignty.
To sweetly pay salvage as slaves of soppy studio slander.
Such is this sorry Saturday night, I am solidified in sedation.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Dear Karen,
It is seven years this month when you left us.
I miss you everyday. In the car, seeing the passenger seat empty, but can still hear you telling me to slow down. When I see Russ and Mea, I smile, knowing that our grandchildren, Evan and Emily, would not be here if not for you.
Not long ago, at one of Evan's hockey games, I turned to Mea and said, "I hope Karen is watching this", for Evan(goalie) was playing exceptionally well. Mea put her hand on my shoulder, "she probably has a better seat than we do." I don't doubt that at all. The same goes for Emily and her activities, whether it be soccer, basketball, softball, or who knows what else, I know that you keep that protective blanket around both of them. Yes, there will be scrapes, scratches, bumps, and bruises. perhaps a broken bone. But when the game calls for a "clutch" player, is when the power of the angel, you, leaves the bench, strengthening the confidence of all the players, not just one, or two, but all. Like all things mortal, sometimes they win, sometimes they lose. But most of all, they learn. A most important result.
Love you, and miss you!
Richard
copyright: richardriddle 01-07-2015
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
Write about being seen, really being seen.
(Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.)
I was so humiliated. Besides feeling humiliated, I felt like I was on display. Each step I took down the hallway, every person in every little group glared at me, glanced away, and the whispers were buzzing. I felt it unjust, but I knew I brought it on myself. I cannot say I felt betrayal, as I was the original betrayer, (well, he was, but our emotional volley had collapsed with the weight of my action) but I hated him for savoring the revenge of my ruined reputation. I knew the pain I bestowed on him wouldn’t go away, but his smug satisfaction of broadcasting my shame only added to my humiliation.
When is graduation? Exactly two months away. That was April first, and I would have my high school diploma June 1st. I was a survivor, for my whole life, and although it was awful, I knew I could get past it. Still, every step I took in the hallway following that dreaded day, every move I made, every word I spoke, every breath I exhaled– was noticed, and I was judged without given the opportunity to provide an explanation of my perspective. High school rumors were ruthless, but what was worse is when it wasn’t a rumor. It was a scandal.
Even though no one dared to ask about it, to obtain information from me, I knew they all knew. Everyone knew, and once the basic information was known, details were not important. I wondered how many other girls experienced what I was experiencing, having to hold their head high and act proud despite the shame. It was strengthening, inadvertently, but the only other option was to hide away and avoid everyone. Even with a reputation, I couldn’t do that. Peers whispered and laughed degrading words, female faculty cast judgmental stares and all male teachers avoided eye contact, to avoid any association with me.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
Competition is nothing, but looking for some external
factor to drive you, People who has strong self will not depend
on competition to raise. Generally, people who
practice competition has reached the top of the world,
stayed as rich, but also carried enormous amount of guilt
and finally, some of them taken refuge in Donating
their earning to the charities.
The competition lover, find their life miserable,
once they became old. They all experienced a kind of
big hole inside of them coz their nature of movement of
life was depended on external factor. Initially, the competition,
which has given special kind of energy to reach their goal
and the same has made them to feel weak and empty.
If you create an illusion of competition in every walk of life,
then the net result will be disappointment. So instead of
depending on external factor, Better to develop our self in
small phases.
To develop Self, we can use competition in the beginning and
once the 'Flow' is created then we can switch over to
strengthening the SELF.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
I wait for you and just so you know
I may be in love with you
And no pressure, in fact stay in your leisure but you're suppose to make my dreams come true
Wait, no no, don't get up, sit back down
I'm seeing the look in your eye
You're just lazy, but you'll call me crazy because of the words that fly
Don't look at me that way, shut up.
You don't think I know how I sound?
It's unsettling to be in this unbalanced beam and not so solid ground
Called love and you keep on giving that look like you think I'm insane
But it's you're fault! Oh, crap, don't do that....
Why did that come out of my brain...?
Now don't get mad... please?
Sorry? Crap! You're mad at me, aren't you!?!
I wish for a moment I could give you my eyes so you could see my view
But you sit there with that look on your face
And you simply stare at me
As if I'm a purple hippopotamus hanging from a palm tree
And... you're not laughing
You still think I'm out of my mind
But I have one thing going for me that I can fall behind
One thing that I can claim beyond sanity
And it's that you're a dream come true
Because you're the one only one who can turn my reds to blues
And calm me down and keep me settle
And love me all the same
I see that coy look on your face asking me what's my game
But there's no tricks, I did nothing wrong
My hands are sanitized
But I choose today to be the day to make you realize
That I love you and you love me just like the Barney song
That's been stuck in my head all day like when you wear that pink thong
And I got a smile. Hallelujah!
You're not mad anymore!
But the truth's still heavy upon my heart, stinging like an open sore
And the truth is this
In you lies the key to make my dreams come to life
To not end the trials but to bear on with me in the strengthening strife
To love and love endlessly
Through snow, sleet, hail, or rain
And to make every single thing in my heart come to... sigh... alright. I'm insane...
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
I sit patiently and wait for the waves to consume the sand house I built
A sand house built with the hate that's grown over a period of time.
A sand house built like a sad house, growing weaker and weaker everyday.
The waves roll over my sand house filling the crevices with water.
After the water drains I look at my house and am shocked.
My sand house is packed with more sand, strengthening the walls.
My sand house built like a sad house, built stronger and stronger everyday.
I sit and wait again for the waves to consume the sand house I built
The sand house, filled with all the hate and distress created.
This sand house filled with me, filled with everything that I am.
So I must be strong if I can withstand these waves of trials and tribulations
If I can push out the water and come back a stronger me.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
A diagnosis of masturbatory insanity
is the inevitable conclusion
that I, as a fellow onanist,
debaucher of sheep,
and baby goat buggerer
have bestowed upon your befuddled mind.
Your insistence in frequenting
the Heinous Sin of Self-Pollution
and self evacuation of one's seed
with mutual onanistic pursuits of sodamistic bed fellows
and other anti Christian pursuits,
have finally brought a visitation of madness
to the perverted soggy mess
masquerading as your brain;
If one may make an
advantageous suggestion
to your befuddled self,
it would be to seek out a restorative nervous elixir
or wrist strengthening electuary,
the former of which would aid in the
"compos mentis" of your good self;
and the latter is extremely efficacious in the
soothing of onanist wrist
and vinegar stroke eye.
but alas; neither is of use against the
" ejaculatio praecox " of foetid poetry..
your Servant, Obadiah Grey.
Secretary for spermatorrhea conservation
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 12:28 PM UTC