Submissions by Heaven_sent_Kathy
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
29th Oct 2019 8:07am
29th Oct 2019 8:07am
A Spirit That Needs Nothing
( after Wendell Berry )
And the gods are loose their powers,
and have nothing to guide by in their folly.
So piteous their pride, forgetting how it was.
They have nothing to free us from ourselves.
The aura divides, the fire eats the seasons,
turning us from false oaths and rites
that make it worse by which we embrace.
Abandon what we knew by Nature’s instincts
that now burn the scrolls of the temple,
that deem we lose our way, for nothing is simple.
So it is written where it cannot be seen....
And the gods are loose their powers,
and have nothing to guide by in their folly.
So piteous their pride, forgetting how it was.
They have nothing to free us from ourselves.
The aura divides, the fire eats the seasons,
turning us from false oaths and rites
that make it worse by which we embrace.
Abandon what we knew by Nature’s instincts
that now burn the scrolls of the temple,
that deem we lose our way, for nothing is simple.
So it is written where it cannot be seen....
#fall
#fire
#nature
#WendellBerry
#TruthOfLife
556 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
24th Oct 2019 3:09pm
24th Oct 2019 3:09pm
A Moment’s Truth
An effect
of the altitude
bites hardest at night
Despair—
while waiting till dawn
in its
savagery
A long
wait that comes
too soon
Airless—
the ice
never melting
blocks
a natural bridge
if ever there
Penance—
the deep
frigid of blue sky
is blinding
Only the condor
—soars
of the altitude
bites hardest at night
Despair—
while waiting till dawn
in its
savagery
A long
wait that comes
too soon
Airless—
the ice
never melting
blocks
a natural bridge
if ever there
Penance—
the deep
frigid of blue sky
is blinding
Only the condor
—soars
#God
#spiritual
#despair
570 reads
10 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
8th Oct 2019 8:34am
8th Oct 2019 8:34am
Guardians
( a Quatern )
I often talk to God beneath the trees
When I go walking through the park alone.
And from the scatter’d sentinels, a breeze,
I stand among and feel that I belong.
He’s like a creature of the night each time
I often talk to God beneath the trees.
In dappl’d glow of moonlight’s subtle climb,
As tree-limb shadows help put me at ease.
The roots, the underground with all the keys;
A trunk is earth, the branches heaven’s own.
I often talk to God beneath the trees
That always have a way to guide me home....
I often talk to God beneath the trees
When I go walking through the park alone.
And from the scatter’d sentinels, a breeze,
I stand among and feel that I belong.
He’s like a creature of the night each time
I often talk to God beneath the trees.
In dappl’d glow of moonlight’s subtle climb,
As tree-limb shadows help put me at ease.
The roots, the underground with all the keys;
A trunk is earth, the branches heaven’s own.
I often talk to God beneath the trees
That always have a way to guide me home....
#secrets
#trees
#God
#spiritual
#wisdom
573 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Oct 2019 12:29pm
6th Oct 2019 12:29pm
The City, The Forest and Other Bird Songs
( after Mary Oliver )
It is everywhere—
the echo
overlapping upon itself
as the sweet, lilting
songs of birds
in the
stiff, stately pines
standing thick,
dark and tall
between, among
the bleached high-rises,
their sterile glass eyes blink
from early shifting light
in the nip of dawn,
suddenly begin to herald
the new day—
and, with the vocal trills
lifting up from the
council of trees,
the span of a
disgruntled owl emerges,
leaving me
quelled of speech, ...
It is everywhere—
the echo
overlapping upon itself
as the sweet, lilting
songs of birds
in the
stiff, stately pines
standing thick,
dark and tall
between, among
the bleached high-rises,
their sterile glass eyes blink
from early shifting light
in the nip of dawn,
suddenly begin to herald
the new day—
and, with the vocal trills
lifting up from the
council of trees,
the span of a
disgruntled owl emerges,
leaving me
quelled of speech, ...
#city
#trees
#birds
#nature
#MaryOliver
782 reads
15 Comments
SONG LYRICS
Published
27th Sep 2019 4:00pm
27th Sep 2019 4:00pm
Birth
As through the ages, you are
the flow of sand
through an hourglass
As I look on, on my way
to be first born
for a thousand times
But who are we...
Who are we...
Who are we...
Who are we...
Is this the sky?
I’m speeding on a highway
can you feel me
waiting for the birth
Creation is the nurse’ry
I sing to you
I heed everything
But where is he...
Where is he...
Where is he...
Where is he...
And why am I? ...
the flow of sand
through an hourglass
As I look on, on my way
to be first born
for a thousand times
But who are we...
Who are we...
Who are we...
Who are we...
Is this the sky?
I’m speeding on a highway
can you feel me
waiting for the birth
Creation is the nurse’ry
I sing to you
I heed everything
But where is he...
Where is he...
Where is he...
Where is he...
And why am I? ...
#birth
#universe
#rebirth
#lyrics
#minimalist
644 reads
11 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Sep 2019 12:50pm
19th Sep 2019 12:50pm
Observations
( after T.S. Eliot )
A literary man of books,
I’d taken her as a lover.
Then yesterday I felt it time
To break it off for another.
The tables of my plan, on me
Have turned the way that she is done.
To moving on, ideal and pure;
I cannot change, or sully her.
Her bare feet trip lightly across
The balcony in early morn’,
Where no sun’s heated flush had yet
Graced patio of Venus’ breath.
To this reflection, heart and soul,
In spite of everything I...
A literary man of books,
I’d taken her as a lover.
Then yesterday I felt it time
To break it off for another.
The tables of my plan, on me
Have turned the way that she is done.
To moving on, ideal and pure;
I cannot change, or sully her.
Her bare feet trip lightly across
The balcony in early morn’,
Where no sun’s heated flush had yet
Graced patio of Venus’ breath.
To this reflection, heart and soul,
In spite of everything I...
#love
#breakup
#MovingOn
#obsession
#TSEliot
613 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Sep 2019 9:34pm
13th Sep 2019 9:34pm
Open your heart (to do list: after the breakup)
( after Rupi Kaur )
Are you a true friend to a friend, my friend.
Have you a gift you’d take all the way there?
It will travel in the small of your hand
Where he had placed it from the north star’s shine.
In the cold of night, and the heat of day,
For a hundred miles, for five hundred miles,
For a thousand miles, for two thousand miles
To keep its clear promise all the way there?
When you arrive at last what will you say,
When you arrive at last what will you do?
Don’t say too much before they...
Are you a true friend to a friend, my friend.
Have you a gift you’d take all the way there?
It will travel in the small of your hand
Where he had placed it from the north star’s shine.
In the cold of night, and the heat of day,
For a hundred miles, for five hundred miles,
For a thousand miles, for two thousand miles
To keep its clear promise all the way there?
When you arrive at last what will you say,
When you arrive at last what will you do?
Don’t say too much before they...
#forgiveness
#breakup
#MovingOn
#healing
#RupiKaur
596 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
4th Sep 2019 9:40am
4th Sep 2019 9:40am
A visual poem after Rupi Kaur
( a visual poem after Rupi Kaur )
#memories
#SelfReflection
#SelfDiscovery
754 reads
13 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
20th Aug 2019 5:57am
20th Aug 2019 5:57am
The Word of God
There’s nothing, outside the word of God,
Will make me believe in another way.
To deny Him when Death’s at my door,
Is to forsake all the love He’s shown me.
I’ve felt and heard the Lord by my side,
When I embrace life, when I am at rest.
His lessons I live as years go by,
For the moment I join Him in Heaven.
In the past you were full of darkness,
but now you are full of light in the Lord.
So live like children
who belong to the light.
As for God, His way is perfect; ...
Will make me believe in another way.
To deny Him when Death’s at my door,
Is to forsake all the love He’s shown me.
I’ve felt and heard the Lord by my side,
When I embrace life, when I am at rest.
His lessons I live as years go by,
For the moment I join Him in Heaven.
In the past you were full of darkness,
but now you are full of light in the Lord.
So live like children
who belong to the light.
As for God, His way is perfect; ...
#death
#LifeStruggles
#God
#faith
#spiritual
557 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Aug 2019 11:04pm
17th Aug 2019 11:04pm
A day of cooler clime it takes me there
The wind on Cornish cliffs
says there’s a God
The faces bleached & bare
don’t spare the rod
Before the clan of men
these edges trod
Where flourishes sea bass,
pilchard and cod
The moss along the beach
are gathered first
Within the forces, rains
that try one’s thirst
The seagulls tack and cry
amid the ports
With ev’ry kind
humanity and sorts
While coastal fronts
between to drive a wedge
The trolls that tend the bogs,
the faery hedge
...
says there’s a God
The faces bleached & bare
don’t spare the rod
Before the clan of men
these edges trod
Where flourishes sea bass,
pilchard and cod
The moss along the beach
are gathered first
Within the forces, rains
that try one’s thirst
The seagulls tack and cry
amid the ports
With ev’ry kind
humanity and sorts
While coastal fronts
between to drive a wedge
The trolls that tend the bogs,
the faery hedge
...
#sea
#beach
#rain
#wind
#nature
663 reads
16 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Aug 2019 00:28am
10th Aug 2019 00:28am
of hand-crocheted doilies ordained for China
( after e.e. cummings )
of hand-crocheted doilies ordained for China or Romania,
the ladies of Lowell cluck and croon with slight of hand,
flurrying needles, clicking their skeins of dyed wool yarn,
are worn wing chairs with threadbare cushions, and are
sure of themselves in their love of Jesus, Eleanor, and the
war orphans, they wear pancake and sensible shoes and
read the classics between services, and gossip as they
bandy their quick glances, of a particular reverend and his
secretary, but all is right among these righteous...
of hand-crocheted doilies ordained for China or Romania,
the ladies of Lowell cluck and croon with slight of hand,
flurrying needles, clicking their skeins of dyed wool yarn,
are worn wing chairs with threadbare cushions, and are
sure of themselves in their love of Jesus, Eleanor, and the
war orphans, they wear pancake and sensible shoes and
read the classics between services, and gossip as they
bandy their quick glances, of a particular reverend and his
secretary, but all is right among these righteous...
#women
#war
#religion
#nostalgia
#EECummings
655 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Aug 2019 00:54am
2nd Aug 2019 00:54am
Girlfriends
( after Anne Sexton )
‘Death’, sounds almost tender
and childlike when I say the name,
rhyming as it does with ‘breath’,
A life force unlike, lesser the end,
when a door is pried open
with a common kitchen utensil.
I didn’t pay attention and failed,
leaving me to salvage
Plath’s words before her last,
When we’d speak of it many times,
as fireflies, like girlfriends,
sending up smoke rings to be the first.
Now I jealously guard the rite
while I still have life and a history,
and can...
‘Death’, sounds almost tender
and childlike when I say the name,
rhyming as it does with ‘breath’,
A life force unlike, lesser the end,
when a door is pried open
with a common kitchen utensil.
I didn’t pay attention and failed,
leaving me to salvage
Plath’s words before her last,
When we’d speak of it many times,
as fireflies, like girlfriends,
sending up smoke rings to be the first.
Now I jealously guard the rite
while I still have life and a history,
and can...
#suicide
#fate
#SylviaPlath #AnneSexton
#SylviaPlath #AnneSexton
907 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Heaven_sent_Kathy
