Tag Archives: http://omukuvah.org/
I listened to the bell ring at sunset
I hear the sound passing each day as death;
Knowing in the ‘morrow it will still ring,
Awakening me with yesterdays debt.
I yield to the monster of this day’s Light
With discipline. With matter. Not with fright!
The high notes settle silence with low notes
To kneel in sound whose vision has no sight.
Ah, but such is my luck! The damn thing rings
Morning, noon, and night. My life inspiring,
Regardless of my nature or my regrets.
They pale to my rise every morning.
Someday I shall be the first to wake it—
Or, bid good evening before sun’s exit.
You have always loved early morning light.
Raising shades pushing closed curtains open.
Each flash from room to room? Presence left bright.
I have followed steps morning to dusk.
I have watched you sigh with a darker sky
And laugh at the sun, for late waking up.
I have caught you in my afternoon arms
I felt your escape from curtain to shade From door to door, calm and without alarm.
Briskly from room to room almost a dance.
Occasionally you gave me a smile
with blinking dark eyes, in a quick side-glance.
Lost is the love that never can be caught.
Lost is the chaser that never can stop.
Note: Inspired by a modern sonnet by Robert Frost’s “Acquainted With The Night”. ( a must read for all future and current Poets, in my opinion :). The written poem is beneath the video
The chief looking down upon the sand
Seeing marble and glass
Wishes me reflection
The fisherman looking above it all
Seeing everything equal
Wishes me balance
The Prophet caught up on a tree
Seeing all trespasses
Wishes me forgiveness
The ring that continues to encircle me
Sees nothing— it is seamless
Wishes me Love.
The bell begs every moment to ring or gong
Wishes me to listen awakened
The level bubble needs no explanation.
The Internal Seed
I never did pretend very well.
Truth was perception—
Dismissing objective proof,
For the answer to the basic question
“How does popcorn pop”?
Mistakes, miss-judgments, funneled into the mind
Of tornadoes swirling heart-popping roofs off conjecture.
How long can one pretend to believe you can be received?
Gently through the bluster of ignorance?
And, yes, I am not the person I am.
I am the one inside of you
That never does pretend, very well.
“Wake up!” Said, the knife and fork to the spoon.
I have lost many memories that I often find in my heart.
Go home and simply be honest
To your lover and rekindle
The one action you forgot.
I Have come to a tree that has fallen and decayed
Nurturing the forest floor, leaving me with this gift,
This piece of hardened wood,
With traces of legends and resemblance.