"unshakably" poems
I go outside
To roam the Earth.
To absorb the air,
And watch it turn dark.
There,
I see the most beautiful things.
Glowing golden lights
And their purple reflections.
The sound of chimes
In every direction.
I come to understand
This engagement of mine.
This soul deep devotion
To which I have grown,
So unshakably attached.
I go outside
To absorb the air,
And watch it turn dark.
I see the most beautiful things.
A reassurance and relief
Prompts me to believe,
Such a soul deep devotion
Must cling to me forever.
In this faith and fate,
I am renewed.
Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 8:37 PM UTC
A turtle dove walks holding a twig in its beak,
Stops briefly.
Looks around.
Walks again.
One twig.
It is an important one
In order to make its nest.
It can easily find
The right twigs
In this time.
If I were a turtle dove
and made my nest,
I would be hectic
and run around
gathering many twigs
at the same time.
Even though the turtle dove
Was laughed by
Clouds and wind,
It doesn't hurry up.
Something fixes everything.
Everything will just fall into place
because it knows that.
Slowly
Like hit or miss,
It will carry
Valuably and slowly
A twig that
It catches in its eyes.
How did it decide to make a nest?
The female that lays an egg?
Does it really wait for him?
Will its egg really hatch?
You just make a nest because spring comes?
I don't think so.
I recognize if I see its eyes.
The turtle dove has confidence
And begin to make its nest.
Its eyes
unshakably clear.
God's promise is
kept there.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
ideas of adventure rattle my chest
wanderlust sweaters knitted in my skin
and I can never take them off
i lace fingers with skylines
kiss a breeze in the sheets of rain
fall in love with the heart beats setting the earth to rhythm
and i can never forget my first love
they're always dancing
a synchronize syncopation of elation
around the one they truly loved
and I fell to the force of things I could not understand
but they never stopped dancing,
and i could never anchor them down
they laced my energy around them
and I'm lost to forever wandering
experiencing all my love's beauties
learning every curve of their spine
teasing their goosebumps when only the moon is awake
running over every scar and memory
and I'm infinitely, unshakably in love with every piece of you
every nation and country
every land mass and ocean
every bird and mammal
every tree and leaf
and I'm in love with every soul and energy
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
Willoughby is mad as hell... in 1940... Ooops...
WAR ... AND MORE...
Ever seen the letters W... A and R together before?
Oh yes... Anew not only those are making WAR.
Will that frequent horror ever pass?
That inexcusable "Thing" on Humanity’s ***
An everlasting incurable boil ghastly sore,
Oozing the worst of Humanity and more?
Constantly coming and going like the tide,
But when and where just a few decide.
People are masters of hate and grisly deed,
Never taught what is wanted might not be of need.
Power and ambition never ask permission,
Whilst irrational hate use provocation,
And millions of lives face elimination.
Eloquence and Hypocrisy firmly hand in hand,
We call Diplomacy... politicians understand.
Greed for power mortal weapons do invent,
And again from brave men in the skies,
More death and hellish horrors are sent,
As angels with devastating metal wings,
Abolish infinitely more than things…
Am I still asking is a God truly up there?
Guaranteed He is near and with many side,
Billions in His glory sanctimoniously hide.
Believed defended by forgiveness and love,
Many are blessed by a man Holier than Thou.
Wars good business throughout history,
Merciless souls hardly thought that a mystery.
Nothing was ever nailed unshakably tight,
Even souls are bought if the price is right.
Most never find meaning in being too meek,
For hardly anyone will turn the other cheek.
As for Humanity’s desperate, everlasting quest,
The God called Power was always the best.
There was never a War ending all that is War,
And just as the forgotten ones in times of yore,
Will you later give a **** what this one was for?
Yet dispensable battalions will always fight,
For pay, honor and what insisted is right.
Brave soldiers always proud not to complain,
Are heroes dying well in seas, mud and rain,
As one more profitable War must be won,
Still wonder… Why the hell all of it begun?
Willoughby
Christmas Eve 1940
Copyright©2013 by Kari M. Knutsen
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
your timing's so good--
you prove it doesn't exist.
a stand in testification...
unshakably watching what
gets carried away.
nothing will survive your
Bodhisattva gaze~that's
not willing to give it all away
in an instant.
the ground lights up as your
feet root pilgrimage.
you turn around to heed
the world's call, the world
follows...as it must.
it's you who has the strength to
integrate such pause given.
what's that look like?
i mean, eyes are connectable...
usable in an act of faith.
i keep looking into your eyes,
and they'll never tell me you're
nowhere to be found...because
we look through one another
so well.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC