Archives for posts with tag: poetry

Vitruvian-Man-by-Leonardo-poetry-by-jda

The Soul
by JDA

Humankind exists between the
Apes and the Angels
And are envied by both.

[image: Vitruvian Man by Leonardo Di Vinci]

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Mary Magdalene kneeling befor Christ

With
by JDA

Was He waiting for Magdalene or
was she waiting for Him?
It was all prophesied.
Even their love?
No.
Love transcends prophesy.
What happened at Peter’s home?
She washed His feet with her perfumed hair.
Had I been there
I would have lifted her up
saying, “Don’t do that to
yourself!” explaining that no one
was worth that debasement.

But women see things, know
things, do things that are
beyond my comprehension.
And so it happened with or without
                  me.

[image note: Filippino Lippi – Kneeling Saint Mary Magdalene and Standing Christ (creative commons)]

black and white photo of bicycle on its side on a lawn

Tough Truth
by JDA

There is a hollow spot where my heart once was
Too much grief, loss and loneliness is just part of the cause.
I’m not sure I wanted one.
Sometime, way back, I must have chosen to let it go.
A passive counterattack.
I recall looking at the hurt in peoples’
faces and never wanting to be in
their places.
Someone being blatantly cruel to a gentle one.
Like a dark cloud over a golden sun.
And I could feel it.
The ache, the bewilderment in their soul.
So…I just shut down somehow,
never wanting to pay that toll.

Ah, I know I’m lying
I feel it all, all the time
And my heart, which is of course here
pretends it isn’t dying.

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

reflection on a pond of bare, dark branches of trees
Phoebe
by JDA

Her head was filled with darkly mean things
and all the petty evil they bring
like half a being, partly shadow and partly, softly real
Blank-faced, empty-eyed in search of
a spiritual meal

Why the compassion for this terribly
lost one?
When a sensible person would turn,
moan quietly, and run

Did I write, “like half a being”?
And how would I notice that,
And all the other things as I sat?

You know don’t you? It was you and me I
was sorrowing for.
There is no her, just projections from a
lonesome mind…..No, it was her. And
she was more honest than I.

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

image of a butterfly in black and white
Nostalgia
by JDA

A late Sunday night in November
alone with bad radio
Grid overhead like a bad school marm
Don’t breathe too loud
Breathing, like a new born infant
is seditious
If you think freely, more’s the woe

Boy, do I miss you, and you, and you, too

But now you’re just a pair of
frightened, suspicious eyes
as the grid lowers

My eyes notice this because they look
just like yours

I want to love again as naturally as I’m
supposed to…once knew how to

Simply, wake up, stretch…and love

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

beautiful yellow and white flower
America
by JDA

Monkeys in shadowland
believing Darwin though wrong, right
Sitting mesmerized by the shining plasma box
stuck in the lowest common denominators of
sex & violence produced by Morlocks

Some, turning with vague unease gaze
backwards toward the cave mouth
and see blue skies, flocks of swans flying
by ancient trees

Terrified by something so real and
beautifully true
they turn back to the counterfeit
safety of the box, while the skies begin
to weep soft silver dew.

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

angel

Anguish
by JDA

Where have the angels gone?
Have they left for a reason?
Am I to be all alone,
for some seditious act, some treason?
Or, more likely, they are there
wings still, motionless,
watching, waiting for sobs, need…
potent-less.

Then swirling circling down for one so lost now found.
“Always stay close,” they seem to say,
“never stray too far, dear friend, not even for one day.
With no one you are no one.
You cannot be seen or heard.
When asked, we will find you.”

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

water flowing in a stream of pebbles

Dishonesty
by JDA

Thoughts, once his, became theirs
pure water pushed through mud
now tainted and dirty
the water flowed on
through and over smooth stones
shedding the sullen particles of nature’s dark sister
then emerging clean and sparkling in perfect sunlight

Further in time, or in another world, the purity still alone
danced with leaden feet
to a sad whispering lament
while keening spirits shrieked their regret

(image above used with permission – copyrighted anonymously)

Spaces
by JDA

Of fireflies and falling stars
Of things that aren’t and
Things that are

feng-shui-arthur-C-Los Angeles-CA
The Only Thing
by JDA

The only thing that stays
the same
Is that everything changes.
Men make plans
God rearranges.
War is man’s temper tantrum
against His feng shui.
Another gigantic tree is cut,
twists and collapses in the
rain forest.
Eboli anyone?
Men make plans
God rearranges.
The only thing that stays the same
is that everything changes.

Note about image above:
Description=A spiral in Chinatown. Los Angeles, CA, USA. Source Date=April 2006 |Author=Arnold C