Of Inadequacies

 

Night cannot unravel longing from need

Time cannot cipher the hand from the deed

And mind cannot deftly devoid with thought

The onyx ocean of all that is not

Heartache and hunger and hope intertwine

Like moonlight and rain on the wisteria vine

Darling, the distance between have and hold

Trembles in fathoms where fingertips fold

And word is the pilgrim that humbly implores

Searching the ocean of want for its shores

We’ve held in moments life’s sweet, finite bliss

We’ve borne the torment of its farewell kiss

We’ve stripped the silence and searched its dark vaunt

To glean from its tresses the echoes that taunt

We’ve held each other and danced; long and slow

For parting’s sweet sorrow comes when we let go

Rising and falling, we laugh and we weep

Touching thought-shadows when we cannot sleep

And while all the earth is wrapped in sable silk

We grasp at threads of intangible ilk

Darling, the stuff that weaves thought is enough

The flip-side of longing is beautiful love

The flip-side of love is a longing within

That cannot be met in this flesh-garb of sin

So here in this moment and here in this chair

Love is a torment I’ll willingly bear

Bastion of passion and purposed belief

Bulwark of beautiful, beautiful grief

I hear the night murmur, a somnolent call

‘Together we conquer, alone we fall’

© Janet Martin

Hold Back the Morning...

 

…because this silence hangs weighted upon the night air

With echoes of laughter and doubt and despair

This is the silence of hope’s troubadour

Dull like the cadence of far ocean’s roar

Where rebellion and surrender coalesce

Drenching the midnight with longing’s caress

This is the silence of chimeral grief

Duel twixt fantasy and belief

Where is the bulwark to cradle the sigh?

Threading the ramparts twixt ocean and sky

With only this silence to witness the throe

Of having and holding and then letting go

Hold back the morning; oh, I cannot bear

To suffer this silence in azure-blue air

For I cannot pawn this allotment of bliss

Hold back the dawn with its sweet sanguine kiss

This is the silence of lovers and fools

Drowning in thought’s inexhaustible pools

Janet~

Hold That Wheel...Please?

Poetics Aside Prompt; For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Hold That (Blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and write the poem. Possible titles include “Hold That Thought,” “Hold That Space,” “Hold That Poem,” or whatever else holds your attention.

Hold that wheel that gently unfurls

Beautiful women over our little girls

Hold that ribbon rushing like the tides

Of spring’s turquoise river as winter subsides

Oh, hold that ruthless rendering of truth

Placing wisdom’s halo over locks of youth

And though we resist it Time deploys its thrill

Startling mortality with its adamant will

Hold that dirge dangling somewhere aloft

Hold that finger so cruel and soft

Hold that moment-thread trickling from the sky

Hold that hour leading to good-by

© Janet Martin

 

Of Fumbling Caresses...a Sonnet

God created the world out of nothing,
and as long as we are nothing, He can make
something out of us. ~Martin Luther~

Moon-crescent dangles above tree-tops where

Night’s phantom fingers strum dawn’s blushing air

Blue and pink chalice tips over the dirt

Cradle of heartache and laughter and hurt

…now the moon fades into rivers of gold

A new day is drawn from Time’s ethereal fold

We touch our step to ephemeral soil

Reach for the hour of tender-sweet toil

We cannot tell what this new day will yield

As over the swell of earth's ocean and field

Daylight expands from night’s onyx abyss

Into human hands of fumbling caress

The unknown ripples; life-waves on earth’s dust

So I reach for the Fingers of One I can trust

© Janet Martin

Beneath the Diguise of Moments

It is not the present immediacy

Of my pondered yes or no

But the shaping of whom you are going to be

That tries my answer so

For in the gathered quick replies

The bud of recompense

Will not remain ‘neath time’s disguise

Of certain consequence

The weight of love’s compassion

Surges full inside of me

For our transient yes-no-moments

Shape the person we will be

© Janet Martin

Sometimes its so easy to just say 'yes, yes, yes,' because at the Time its the easy non-confrontational fix...but this morning I caught myself suddenly pondering a request not because of any harm it would do now, but in how its shapes one's thinking pattern and may numb our discernment twixt wisdom and knowledge of choice and accountability.

On the Outside Looking In...

 

(on one side of the window the beauty of duty; on the other, desire)

The quote below struck me again with quickening force as I gazed to the out-doors while spring-cleaning my kitchen...

“I believe in the immortality of the soul because I have within me immortal longings”

 Helen Keller quotes

Sometimes standing on the outside looking in

Is enough for me

And I let the river of season-beauty

Wash its significance rampantly

Over parts of me that have not yet learned

To inhale then relinquish what cannot be returned

The limb outside my window

Burgeons with the budded croon

And nucleus of summer

Where its dappled shadow-swoon

Will rivet me; awed spectator

Twixt the beauty and the bliss

Spell-bound by the Creator

Of life’s little moment-kiss

And suddenly the outside

Is a robe of searing pain

I am a lonely beggar

Cold and hungry in the rain

As I yearn for the inside

Reaching for the mystic heart

Of something, keen, immortal

Of which earth can have no part

© Janet Martin

Contemplating...Him

How is it that You do not give

As You receive from us?

But gently You bestow Your best

As You impart Your love

In myriad deployment

Above, around, beneath,

Our mouths bulge with enjoyment

Of goodness you bequeath

How is it You do not withhold

As we withhold from You

But mercy spills from heaven-rills

As gentle as the dew

It sparkles where, heedless we rush

As You supply our need

We stuff our faces while we crush

Your whisper with our greed

How is it You do not despise

This thankless, wretched race?

You do not turn away your eyes

But still extend Your grace

Where we, in blind possession

Inhale, exhale Your love

As You make intercession

In kind visage from above

© Janet Martin

He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.
Ps. 103:10

Earlier this morning the ground was a dazzling sweep of frost-diamond splendor. Gorgeous! The dawn breathed blush pink before deepening into a rich coral prelude to glorious sunshine.

Contemplating...You

Poetics Aside PAD: For today’s prompt, write a tentative poem. The poem could be about a tentative date, a tentative person, a tentative situation. The narrator could be tentative. The subject could be tentative.

Hearts are not flowers pressed between pages

This flesh-blood appendage of life

Suffers obscurely wild passion that rages

In conflict, in wonder, in strife

I cannot give you with reckless abandon

Blood-petals composing its sphere

But consider first with firm contemplation

Your whisper caressing my ear

Why is it that echoes evoke a keen hunger

For more than the hull of your sigh?

And why does the tenure of yesterday’s laughter

Feel now like an endless goodbye?

Wisdom and knowledge divide the heart’s choosing

The mind knows what life has made known

But somehow when you press your lips to my musing

My heart has a mind of its own

I cannot mute mortal need and desire

Though mind may employ its staid part

It cannot guard with barracks of fire

The thought of you stealing my heart

© Janet Martin