Yesteryear

Yesteryear is somewhere I hold not dear,
And shed not one tear that I can only peer
Into my past – to cast but a quick glance –
And it does not last . . .
Oh, yes, there’re fond memories, I’m sure
But they do not serve to cure my dejection
And so my rejection of too much reflection
Comes with ease with ne’er ghostly figure
To tease, and no shade to rise up to please,
Nothing to freeze my soul in bygone years;
And tell me, what could be more charming,
If not alarming, for an avid pupil of history?
Ah! an invigorating story I love, so savory!
But really there’s not one bone of interest
To pick from my own,
Sown in the mundane . . .
So yesteryear is not dear but rather drear;
But, then, I hear it is medicine for the soul
To reflect, to recollect, and so it might be,
So, you see, I do reminisce in quietness;
No, I do not hate the past, so I meditate,
Yet this does not last very long;
After all, I belong here and now . . .
Yesteryear may be as near as one thought,
But reliving those days cannot be bought
With the world’s gold, not even one’s soul,
And why try? To want to live in yesteryear
Comes from fear of bowing here and now,
Turning ‘golden days’ into towers of power
Under which one cowers . . .
And this came to mind as I was pondering
Yesteryear

In the Temple of the Ancient of Days

temple-835790__340She rises early from bed to go where there is no need for keys

***

On bended knees, head bowed, wrinkled hands folded,
Bands of unseen angels surround the lonely woman
As she prays alone in the Temple of the Ancient of Days

***
Cacophony in the streets no longer an anomaly,
Here there is still solemnity and blessed serenity
As old lips whisper into the ear of One who hears

***
Screams throughout the city shatter dreams of lasting peace
When all battles cease, but one still prays for that holy day
When people walk in the way of authentic love from above

***

Light footsteps can barely be heard and no spoken word
As a young boy walks thru the door across marble floor
And dares to draw near the solitary figure in quiet prayer,
To kneel beside her with real intention to make petition
In his own way in this the Temple of the Ancient of Days

***

We, too, may rise from bed to go where there is no need for keys
To bend knees and pray . . . in the Temple of the Ancient of Days

Profusion of Confusion

error-101406__340Profusion of confusion
In complete delusion
Fusion of fantasy and lies

Say ‘goodbye’ to reality
‘Hello’ to finality of truth

And the devil’s in his booth
Ready for ya, claw and tooth

One man tries to hug
Attacked by two thugs
And the rest just shrug

Up and off to riot
Destroy all quiet
Anger in the diet

Defiance
No compliance
Reliance on rage
Day after day
Page after page

And the sage is silenced
And the sage is silenced
And the sage is silenced

In the Deep of Darkened Keep

In coffin dark and deep I lay,
Awake to know and in dismay
As two lovers hover and play
And say, ‘I love you, too,’
Never aware that as I stare
Into darkness, I hear and fear
I shall never receive affection,
My heart in dejection,
My spirit in rejection,
My life but a reflection
Of the death of lovely dreams
In the rich cream of romantic
Aspirations before stagnation
And then horrid damnation . . .

But then the wind still blows
Over the earth, place of birth,
And she sings some silly song
About where I really belong:
In arms of love from above,
Yet while I am here laid low
In black coffin deep keep of
Numinous burial, no aerial
Sight – fright holding heart –
And all fight is lost and gone,
But still she sings and brings
Me wings to fly into the sky,
If I will but believe
And receive her gift

death-557025__340And her hand reaches to lift
If I will but sift thru thoughts
Of depression and impression
That led to repression of soul;
Ah! then might I be finally free
To walk and talk and truly see,
Leaving behind toxic debris
Of a life lived underground
Where love-sound was heard
Like chirping bird, yet unseen?
Might I now arise
To claim my prize
Of but one ‘I love you, too?

Riot and the Rape of Peace


Looting, stealing, shooting, pealing thunder

Of angry voices making choices of violence
In vehemence of protests hardly understood;
Proud defiance in furious alliance shocking,
Rocking an entire nation; is there salvation?
Can we hear the clarion call of the one
Who stood tall and stated, “Darkness
Cannot drive out darkness; only light?”
Ah! Thugs in the night blight the very peace
For which the world entreats day after day;
And flood of blood runs down these streets
To the beat of wild clamor with no glamor
And ne’er with shame in crimes, only blame,
So the claim is made: Another one is to fault,
And there will be no halt to the battle fought,

brigitte-bardot-383138__340And the devil rattles chains in anticipation
Of even more participation in nefarious war
Against love and unity, serenity and comity;
And the Liar sets fire to another community,
And yet another . . . and another . . . another!
Oh when will all this cease?
When will there be peace?

Puch Hole in the Darkness

Why so sad and forlorn, when you were born to be a charm;
Born to be the arm of encouragement for others bothered
By so many alarms and the bells of hell; to speak peace,
And increase joy and confidence, for every boy and girl,
And to hurl away the bite of fright, pestilence of night,
And wraith of day, never to stay, but quick-leave forever
And ne’er return to burn spirits of the innocent so bent
Down by burdens of care, ready to drown in sea of dismay;
Yet here you are to show another way to much brighter day;
Why forlorn, then, as if there’s no reason you were born?
Have not each one of us some serious reason ne’er to fuss?
Have not each one of us some purpose in this circus of life?
Have not each one of us some reason from season to season?
Grow not weary, but show this dreary world very clearly
Your meaning in being who and what you are, like shining star
That you are, and were always meant to be, ere you were sent
From womb of heaven, bright shining, to be one more light…
Candle unhidden; put atop pole to punch a hole in the darkness!

milky-way-1655504__340


Note: Originally published in September 2015, this poem is an encouragement to never give in to the darkness that so often surrounds us, as well as an inspiring reminder that we have infinite worth, value and purpose.