Change of the Abyss

 

Long time no read, but hi!! 

I am glad to say that I have enjoyed an actual vacation with my family this summer with a trip to a family reunion in St. Louis, MO and yes – we had an unmitigated ball! Although the trip entailed a lot of planning and work throughout, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself and am back to the drawing board, and back to workin’ it!

It is now Saturday afternoon on July 12, 2014, and I have some words to share today, Yay! I associate this poem with how my writing consistency (sometimes lack thereof) plays out on a regular basis – emphasizing on some time before and immediately after the vacation trip. However, this piece can represent any walk of life for anyone.

I hope you all enjoy!

“Change of the Abyss”

Smile, and the world smiles with you – that’s what they say;

But what about when nothing goes as planned – what about that day?

When apprehension shows up in every place where courage should reside;

What direction leads to home? At what residence is pride?

 

When at sea, a simple smile is not quite enough – or so it looks;

Breaking chains, leaping bounds, and evading pirating crooks;

This journey can sometimes prove to be an abyss of sheer overwhelm;

While still in search of contentment – my main goal is location of the helm.

 

Each sailed mile of my life lacks reception of understanding – being clear;

Much like a deep sea urchin, there is no there – nor here,

Very small, long, patient, yet hurried moves towards the initial goal;

When suddenly, my ship sinks into an unending eddy of unfold.

 

Which way is the way back to the top – afloat?

In which direction should the helm turn to avoid the urchin’s sand-bottomed gloat?

He is so slow, so simple, so content;

He moves – he moves not – he patiently waits – for what is meant.

 

Until, at last – the time comes to devour;

All in his path – until nothing is left to scour;

Now satiated, and on his way back to the cubbyhole;

Where silent, satisfied stories of fulfillment are proudly told.

 

Does the urchin smile, or does he breathe a sigh of relief;

From not being caught in the net of regret…grief?

Like a miracle, that once hard to control helm, shall I surely steer;

To and fro from there, ’til at long last – here.

 

Now, at land ho, I can clearly see;

How a simple smile can make the world smile with me.

For, in spite of apprehension, fear, and  confusion – peace unfolds;

Into the urchin’s revealed story of silent victory, which by mankind – is forever told.

 

 

 

 

 

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In the Heart of…

Truth,

It resides in meaningful places, but

Empty facades of what could have been –

Yet cannot be are strained from

The solidity of

Solitude…

Preferring the brilliant glow of

Honesty, but facing

Rejection

From the other side of the

Facts of

Life…

Wandering aimlessly…searching for

Depth

In one’s own

Reality – suddenly

A loud shout from the

Heart

Brings fruition

 

Aside

Life Goes Lyrical|Urban Dialect

I had a lot of fun with this piece…(silent mental beats playing in my head – again, I feel alive in the midst of severe brain fog/stress/life happening). My intent is for the brutally honest Southern hood dialect orientation to epitomize the concept of a life from any walk (and the stuff that comes with it) to be ‘felt’.

I hope you guys enjoy!

Life Goes Lyrical

dscf009314.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tired – try’in to steal a nap like a thief in a robbery

Sick – cause the weather bipolar like a fake real housewife on TV

Broke as the Ten Commandments when Moses stepped down from the MT – couldn’t believe what his eyes did see

Tripp’in – like a stumbling block in my way cause b****es be hatin on me

But still good, cause I ain’t a slave to the world sayin, “F*** it!” like ‘2Pac’, set me free

 

Still be up – when my life be ’bout to crumble and fall

Come out fight’in – when my back is pushed against tha wall

Shawt – like a munchkin, but mentally standing tall

Throw at me what you will – whistle blown, flag thrown, my court – my ball!

 

Darkness invades – as if my midnight is on tha loose

Tie a big knot, rope it up, kick my chair, – look up at tha noose

But it ain’t for my neck, you damned silly goose

Just hang’in up all my hang-ups – time to let it all loose

 

Times got to get betta – that’s all I’m say’in

Don’t get pissed off at me cause U evol’vin and I’m still pray’in

No time for tha BS – put a cap on tha monkey-ass play’in

My miss’in link ain’t no invisible ape –

Just a nomadic biped – survive’in… gray’in

 

 

Aside

The Collector

Small Gift Box on Pine

Image courtesy of sritangphoto / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I must admit that this poem was literally pulled out of me by an old yet new friend from my past (school) who has managed to reconnect with me in a big way, so thank you much MS COOPER!!! I also feel the need to attribute these words to another friend – YES, YOU CHRISTYB!  It is these two ladies that I in this case consider – (((drumroll)) – FRIENDS. You have both supported me from day #1, and both of you still make yourselves a very present asset in helping me to clear my overly filled (with whatever at the time) brain – via encouragement, genuine friendliness, and authentic support.

I can only hope that these two gems receive some warm light in return for what that they continuously give out. 🙂

The Collector

Her special box is hidden in her heart,

Filled with many colors,

Shapes, forms;

Collecting often, but –

Sometimes – not always the norm.

Before, they lay dormant…

Until the day came,

To awaken –

Those forsaken –

And forlorn…

With the sweet scent of friendliness,

And compassion true;

She acknowledges all forms,

Be it red, brown, or other hue.

The shapes never matter,

Because her love never ceases to refrain;

From spreading a scattered distribution

Of camaraderie over the lawn of  any species,

Holding the existence of pertinence –

To bliss and pain.

Keeping the old and bringing in

Those irregular – even blue,

The bright colors uplift,

While dark  rich hues renew.

She sets newness neatly,

Lovingly,

In its designated spot;

Publicly, with all the others, discreetly.

She will savor joy,

Togetherness,

For a time, many pleasantries ;

Until back to that special hidden place,

Goes the collector’s paper leaves.

 

 

Aside

Rhyme/Haiku

Sometimes, our patience wears thin

It happens to us all, but then again

Comes peace and good will toward men

 

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, WP Writers!!!

Aside

Honor

English: Young Nelson Mandela. This photo date...

English: Young Nelson Mandela. This photo dates from 1937. South Africa protect the copyright of photographs for 50 years from their first publication. See . Since this image would have been PD in South Africa in 1996, when the URAA took effect, this image is PD in the U.S. Image source: http://www.anc.org.za/people/mandela/index.html (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I came across the following quote this morning, hours before an announcement that the great Nelson Mandela had passed away…

“What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived.

It is what difference we have made to the lives of others

That will determine the significance

Of the life we led.”

Nelson Mandela

Rest in peace…your living was not in vain!

Aside

Or Else

Thinker thinks about how to take sun burst shot

Thinker thinks about how to take sun burst shot (Photo credit: davidyuweb)

All eyes fixate

On what lies before them;

All minds create opinions

Of what has been seen..

All brains collect

Data

According to what is produced;

The average, the mean…

From darkest brown

To Amber,

From cerulean blue

To emerald-green…

All eyes see the same –

Every mind works alike,

But opinions often differ

In what has been seen…

Is it because

Of Freedom,

Or could it be

Functionality…

Could it be that both works

Work to produce

The mind’s own rationality…

When raindrops fall,

Do you see mere water,

Or are they

Transparent particles of life…

When you hear a love song,

Does ‘musical piece’ come to mind,

Or imaginings of a melodic overture

From a man dedicated to his wife…

Certainly, all eyes view

The beholden –

Beautiful, physical and natural wonders

Of any given site…

But it is solely

The beholder;

Mind, thoughts, freedom and functionality

Which defines actual sight…

All things creative –

Musical, poetic, colorful, rhythmic,

Seen, heard, and felt

Are remnants of a piece…

Of creativity –

Constructed, balanced and

Made;

The beholder’s

Freedom and functionality bringing you peace…

Our own functionality collects

What we see, hear and feel

In a creative world

Which naturally compels…

All eyes and minds – ears, and hearts

To receive creations freely,

Either the same way – sometimes

Else…

In all

That we give,

And in all

That we create;

Complex reception

Of sights from the site

And peace from the pieces

Define true talent that all alike appreciate!

Aside

The Hunter

Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday prompt is being held by one of my favorite followers of which I am also a ‘followee’ :), Mark Schutter! His blog has beautiful artistry and poems that come straight from his very heart. It is no surprise that he would be hosting FWF while Kellie is away and we are all in continued prayer for her beautiful baby nephew Khole.

The image prompt that Mark provided is of the magnificent ‘blood moon’. See his explanation here. At first sight, my mind immediately went to the historic Scottish Wars of Independence namely the Battle of Neville’s Cross during the time of the blood moon’s rising in October. This site is said to have been the place where David II led his troops to high ground to prepare for more battles after an unsuccessful battle with England‘s army. It is also said that the site’s erection of this stone cross was paid for by Lord Neville himself due to England’s victory of their battle with the Scottish ‘freedom hunters’.

The image of the blood moon symbolizes ‘hunting season‘, so my poem uses this symbolism (with some old Scottish phrases with meanings in the following lines) to portray the fight for the independence of 12th century Scottish people.

 

Old Scottish Sayings: These are brief definitions of some of the sayings in the poem that were not translated in the following lines after the sayings or words:

Dreich – drenched

‘We gie it laldy’ – Do it with gusto

‘Do ye dinger’ – Disapproval, loudly

‘Haud yer wheesht’ – Shhh!

‘Whit’s fer ye’ll no go by ye’ – What is meant will be

‘Fair Puckled’ – Short of breath

‘We’re a Jock Tamson’s bairns’ – We’re all God’s children

‘Lang may yer lum reek’ – Live long, stay well

‘Keep the heid’ – Be calm and wait

‘Mair’ – more

‘Ain’ – own

‘Gunnae’ – Going to

‘Frae’ – from

‘Greet’ – cry

‘Hame’ – home

‘Hoachin’ – busy

‘Failin’ means yer playin’ –  If you fail, at least you tried

 

Here goes!

The Hunter

 

hunters-moon-vegastar-carpentier

  Photo Credit: VegaStar Carpentier Website

Blood moon rises,

time has come;

For Death to prevail,

and survival to be won.

 

“Haste ye back!”

Will  our women say;

The hunter goes out,

Fer a long yonder’s stay.

 

Our harvest has come;

At the time of equinox;

But we must conquer flesh,

And mend our wee flocks.

 

 

A man’s belly must be filled;

With a hearty warm stew;

From that which is hunted

From that which we slew.

 

On the hunt for freedom;

“We gie it laldy, but it’s a dreich day!

Do yer dinger!”,

To England we say.

 

Wet lands hinder;

Cold winds make us weak,

Night is black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat;

“Shhh, haud yer wheesht!”

 

Silently, we approach;

And attack with all our might;

But ‘whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye,

And null was our dinger strike…

 

The hunter is fair puckled;

Long bowmen make us short of breath;

We’re a Jock Tamson’s bairns;

All God’s children suffer death!

 

Safely, the hunter is led to prepare;

Under the shield of Neville’s Cross;

But our souls now linger,

In the heathered moor’s peat moss.

 

The blood moon drips;

With trickles of our life’s creek;

Our last wish for survivors is,

“Lang may yer lum reek!

 

Keep the heid – stay calm!

Accept this wee defeat;

There will be mair battles;

When our ain will nae retreat!

 

Bide ye the next gunnae;

For now, yes – for noo;

We shall hail our ain king,

At the next going to!”

 

Mair blood shall be shed;

“Frae the enemy!”, we greet,

Their hame shall be heathered moors,

Where hoachin’ ghosts linger in moss peat.

 

The blood moon rises;

In the auld lands that very be;

Failin’me ans yer playin’ – “Don’t stop!”

We shall keep the heid until we are free!

 

I hope that these old Scottish sayings did justice to this piece and I hope that you enjoyed! 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

Like Us

You know, folk like us – upon our arrival, some things may be wrong

But folk like us are resilient – our souls are so strong

We naturally fight whatever comes against our will

To live, bring happiness, and a peaceful still

No one can choose for us except our own identities

Despite the cries of life’s flaws and frightening pleas

We may look helpless, but in truth we hold power

Just think of where we came from; the universe of life’s shower

Innocence draped and wisdom endowed

All secrets reside inside us as a fully saturated cloud

Waiting to burst forth as we gradually grow

Into who we are ordained to be until we eventually show

That deep existence which reigns when innocence leaves

But we never lose what we were born with – what the blameless eye sees

We cannot be stopped no matter what seems to prevail

Folk like us are mere babes, you know – our being creates life’s trail!

This piece means so much to me because of the current situation in which it is dedicated as well as my childhood experience in being healed from a heart defect. These words go out to Baby Khole (and family) – a very special relative (nephew) of Kellie Elmore who was born with strength and power despite all. I pray that this little man be a living testimony of the reality of miracles. That being said – I believe he will!

 

Aside

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