“The Afterlife” by Teleita Alusa
winter is the season of age
fourth and final in sequence
as life pulls away from the sun
blood runs sluggish from cold
footsteps slowed by the snow
the weight of precipitous air
bends the body to stooping
ordeal in each essay of motion
resisted by forces of time
cloudy ambient gray settles
into the eyes seeking signs
through the blustery mists
that a nearing warm dawn
brings new life-after-death
From my book Bohemian Scents
Abstract Photo by Marsha Heiken
sing the sundown
a refrain for the ages
your sky forever
*********************
“Every poem an epitaph.” – TS Eliot
“Cemetery And Vicarage In Kochel” by Wassily Kandinsky
bury me under the snows
of a quiet cold morning
no need for the green
blades of summer to
cheer my eternity
white blankets
comfort my
everlast
peace
death
occurs in
each season
but wintertime
renders its purity
white with celestial
endowment soft light
unimpeded falls leafless
from heaven’s own fingers
From my books Ephemera and Legacies (vol. 2)
Image from Pinterest – Artist Unknown
diminishing days
will succumb to
starvation of light
under insolent press
of insurrect midnights
slow purpling hours
who crawl among
fears of an anxious
sparse leaflessness
naked and shivered
demoralized landscapes
in grief for green
summer of memory
suffer the coldness of
deep-breathing darkness
that penetrates limbs
stills the sap-flow
in desolate heartwood
arboreal dreams
chilled and finished
by icy insensitive
slander of seasons
finality comes in its turn
bleak and barren
to each living tree
to each forest
who wonder throughout
these long lingering nights
if they’ve known
their last spring
if they’ve seen
their last sun
“Sunset in the Graveyard of Trees” by Tony Karp
it’s quiet in the shade of years
dreams no more than murmurs
the growl of ego long since spent
the brassy noise of strident youth
transposed to dulcet memories
as time exerts its damping force
the shadows seek reflective thought
within the mind persist mute clicks
a lifetime rolls like reels of film
with captioned silent questions
the wonder now no longer what
or why but rather when and how
it’s quiet in the shade of years
the only sound the setting sun
New Hampshire Foliage – Image from pinterest.com
oh what glorious endings
for lifetimes well-lived
a reward and a warning
of leaves in their turning
spectacular aide-mémoire
painted with earthfire palette
reminding gray bones
in bark creased with old age
that the best and the worst
and the all of green seasons
concede to intrinsic
autumnal propensities
give themselves over to
color and curl before
wind-tugged release
sends them fluttering down
come to rest upon loaming
where landscapes of memory
humbly stand wake
“Continuum” by Mareva Millarc
living and dying
each being a process
or are they
as some would say
one and the same
existential continuum
interdependent
the is and the isn’t
the was and the wasn’t
the will be and won’t be
the comings and goings
beginnings and endings
coincident matters
ingenious of time
clever manifestations
of ill-equipped
human perceptions
who grasp within
limited space of the mind
at Euclidian norms
for some sense
of an unreal reality
“Emerald Dreams” by Patricia Awapara
as the crow flies
I make for horizons
the shoulders of day
hunch and hug
the land’s end
in my speed
my quilled wings
slice the sunset
dividing a temporal
laminate sky
my transgressions
my lies
left below and behind
with my sigh
with my shadow
a few paling inkblots
my legacy traces
“Out of Agony Comes Beauty” by Carla Saunders
chain reactional
morbid explosions
genetically flawed
broken helical strands
carry cruel obscene
mutated seeds
predisposing a vile
self-destructive
dividing devouring
triggered by terrible
infinitesimal clocks
black and bleak
with grim biochem
sprockets and springs
body turns on itself
time and treatment
its weapons that
painfully hammer
a life to its knees
crush the spirit
maul dignity
sharp tragic irony
casting the specter
of death
in new light
of the hero
to bring sweet relief
and in the relief rises
beauty unblemished
regained of humanity
healthy and whole
and forever
remembered
Leonard Cohen 1934-2016
(Regarding Leonard Cohen and his final album)
we want it darker
so darker he speaks
in that spine-tingling
basso profondo
that crackles and creaks
a sound-chamber crypt
hopeless poetry
killing the flame
of a life aptly slipped
between passion and pain
a personal scripture
a lyrical dirge existential
melodically slain
by a choir-backed
musical hospice
to solemnly comfort a
deep smoky chanting
one powerful word
lifted up in refrain
hineni hineni
the end’s in the room
all is ready each bone
every note unafraid
tilted full at time’s tomb
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Poesy plus Polemics 