Silence 1
Silence is my confession.
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
PHASES II
My half moon heart
Knows that healing takes time
PLASTER SAINT
We laugh a little louder when there is sadness within us
Does rain come knocking at your door?
Does rain come knocking at your door
And you open up to it
Welcome it like a long awaited guest
And let it enter,
Not only in your home but also in your soul
You talk to it, as if it were your long lost friend
You pack up your deepest darkest secrets
And hand over the briefcase for the rain to take away
Do you secretly pour some pent up tears into that baggage too?
Or do you save them for when the rain leaves your home
And then let those tears soak you
Do you find solace in letting go when the rain comes
Everything that you've been holding on to?
Do you feel like a newborn when the sky is clear
Knowing there'll be no more rain
For a long long time now....
The Grazing Cows
the grazing cows
even more content
summer rain
Bright April Clouds
bright April clouds
bits of snow left beneath
the mountain pine
Cold Night
cold night
the pale glow of headstones
behind the fence
Memory
our mind-sea foggy clear
hides its scaled creatures
twisting turning movies with their
jungle passions ancient times
crusaders’ flaming crosses
pitiless in ‘faith’
as much a part of me as this treed
half-raked lawn
you hide your armies images
wrapped in your bones
sharing that sea
an attic's cast-off
gowns and gestures where
so many loves and knives
lie buried
in this marsh teeming
Nerves
nerves know the visitor
can feel the lassitude the call
the sudden song.
soul sees the inner
movement will
thought tries description fails
the mind wincing at
a platitude which could startle
the tenth time
in well-kept yards fenced sprayed
the easy certainties unchallenged
wait for the visitor
to trample break stifling
air so trees crash
and fly lyrical
New Year
what learned? do i see
snow and faces better
x-ray beats of water earth?
Do i slip out of
clouds & gestures faster
have honest tact?
hard to remember
how it was - the usual
toast cheese trying to sit
in wideness light
before minutes attack
moments of ecstasy among
night crickets waves
water terrors lonely days
Living side by side
we grew distant shouting
Swimming
in the littered kitchen
rubbing dirty pots and hot
i think of swimming
still cold dark-green water
where I move somehow
(a poor swimmer)
then of that other
plunging rising
from the messy heat
of pots food talk without
leaving them -
meditation
but how do that
rising plunging while
scrubbing hot
how love my pots my
Youth
what we make you inherit
we say ourselves inheritors
of all we are mostly unseen
all we can change or can't
and will or won't
our debris insights skyscrapers
word or insect bites
cocky unsure in inequality wars states
wanting to pass down green
sun-blessed greeneries or symphonies
or vulgar croons
We work read news sometimes
protest make gardens birdbaths poems -
try. Meditate to tap real
subtler realms our
inner light.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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