Category: Poetry

On that day, the phone first rang at nine a.m.,
then rang again fifteen minutes later.
His daughter gave his wife the news.
The shock … then silence …
followed by mixed emotions.
She was oh so very young.

The mirror in the room keeps displaying his visage;
the lines, the hair thinning at the top.
Today he will wear his new jeans,
and his Cat Stevens t-shirt,
and put some styling jell in his hair. 

On the mantle, the faded photo,
conceiving memories of a party long ago.
Everyone younger, most living,
many smiling, laughing, appearing joyous.

Every morning, pain in his shoulder.
Throughout the night, numbness in most of the fingers of his right hand.
Heat or ice for his Achilles' tendon?
(The doctor had called it tendinitis)

In the afternoon, some bread baking,
or perhaps a pizza:
a newly found hobby suggested by the pandemic.

On his desk, an almost finished poem,
about an abusive father and husband,
and a fire in a home on Colonial Street,
in the city of Montreal.

Beside it, another poem … just started.
Beautiful and magical butterflies,
and thoughts of revenge,
and murder.

And from his window … a garden.
Among the vegetation, a vibrant green pepper plant,
alive and flourishing.
Next to it, another plant,
cabbages visible,
but most of its leaves eaten by the caterpillars. 

http://poetrysoup.com

An autobiographical, free verse poem, called, “I Aimed, Pulled the Trigger, and Fired”, which revolves around a hunting trip with my father, a long time ago. (Well… it’s not totally autobiographical.)

I Aimed, Pulled the Trigger, and Fired

I didn’t even know what type of bird it was – when I had to shoot to kill.

I left the comfort of my bed

on an early Saturday Fall morning

to enter the unknown – a nearby forest

so that I could hunt with my father.

The canopy of trees further reduced the light from the overcast sky.

It was chilly, with a scent of damp moss present in the air

the ground wet from the morning mist.

I remember mostly silence

except for my breathing

and the sounds of my footsteps

and those of my father – crushing twigs, branches, dead leaves, plant life, and living insects

clearing the road for my rite of passage

my childhood disappearing with every footstep.

The bird was spotted by my father

a distance away

on a branch

of a colorful, majestic tree.

He handed me his gun

and gave me a quick refresher on how to hold, how to shoot, and what to expect.

The gun was heavy, my arms started to ache

my hands were cold, and trembling.

And then – he told me that I was ready.

And so I aimed                     

pulled the trigger                

and fired.

The bird remained motionless                  

but very much alive.

I fired once more.

Again

the bird, still there

unaffected

and at that moment I asked myself, if I would have to shoot again.

My father reloaded the rifle

and as I reluctantly took it from his hands, he looked into my eyes

and I wondered if he knew.

I fired again.

Again – I missed.

Then a fourth, and final time.

I returned the riffle to my father.

Nothing was said.

Nothing else was done.

I asked myself if one day I would be a hunter.

Before leaving the area

so that my father’s hunt could once again continue

I looked – for the last time – at the branch of the tree that once supported the bird.

It was gone – and I smiled.

(This poem was selected 10th for a Poetry Soup contest in May of 2021.)

An autobiographical, free verse poem, called, “I Aimed, Pulled the Trigger, and Fired”, which revolves around a hunting trip with my father.

This is a rhyming poem, a parody, about a deciduous tree in the forest of its dreams. It relates to human life on our planet.

This poem won a 9th place finish this month (April 2021) in a premier contest on poetrysoup.com.

A Deciduous Tree in the Forest of Its Dreams

in a forest

a deciduous tree with an immortal spirit

germinated in a foreign flora

while surrounded by evergreens

it came from another land

where deforestation is the norm

from a world of destruction

and death

after many years

this deciduous tree became robust and admirable

its trunk sturdy, its branches stout

with its green wide flat leaves in the summer, colorful ones in the fall

and the winds blew, and the storms came

and it was pelted by the rain and hail

thunder and lightning attempted to uproot its soul

but the tree stood tall, and was not dismantled

and all of the evergreens

questioned its existence

laughed at its appearance

said that it was infecting the purity of their sacred evergreen forest

and if this tree could think and speak, if this tree could feel

it would simply say….

“I only seek a better life

in the forest of my dreams.”

(This poem won 9th place in a poetrysoup.com contest in April 2021)

http://poetrysoup.com

A Deciduous Tree in the Forest of Its Dreams

The poem, entitled “My Mind’s Confusing Game”, was written during a time when I was in a moody state of mind. On that particular day, my wife and I were quite involved in painting the walls of a room at our house, and to be honest I was not in a painting mood. Lol.

While taking a short break, which I welcomed, I decided to listen to Leonard Cohen’s poem, “My Lady Can Sleep”, which inspired me, for I quickly grabbed my iPhone, and on a Word document, wrote the following poem. What is it all about? I will let you decide.

My Mind’s Confusing Game

I sit here before you

One might say in boredom, but I think that it’s defeat

I wonder if I will be taken

To find answers for survival, or to a peaceful sleep.

Should I question my actions?

Ask where I’m going from this point on?

Or should I just remain defeated

As one who’s never won?

I want to hold you in the morning

Without guilt and with no shame

I want to lie there beside you

So as to break the patterns of this game.

Will you change my inner being?

Touch me with your soul?

Hold your body close to me

And erase from existence a side of myself that I behold?

Tell me if my questions, my wants, and all my hopes

Give solace to the existence, that this my body holds.

Tell me if I’m foolish, looking for that which might never be attained

As I sit here feeling broken, in my state of consciousness and pain.

In my mind I search for freedom

from the shackles that I wear.

And it is often through your existence

That I find the love and care.

I want to hold you in the morning

Without guilt and with no shame.

I want to lie there beside you

So as to break through the cobwebs of my mind’s confusing game.

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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Love Poems: This post has two love poems. The first is called “Lovers In the Morning Light”, and the second is called “Naked Love”.

Lovers…In the Morning Light

In the morning light

I see your beauty

and it envelopes me in its mystery

and its desirable pleasures of love.

I look into your eyes

and like the first time

the need to touch, but more to feel

is there.

And as the sun benevolently gives birth to the day

we are united, and I surrender

to the simple need of body

and to the complex heart of soul.

Naked Love

You were lying there naked

Your body a reflection of the divine.

I saw you there

Naked

As you absorbed the rays of my mind.

You let me hold you

Allowed me to see your inner soul.

I wanted you

Transfixed by your beauty

A beauty I needed to behold.

And as you touched me

Felt my body, but more what lingered in my heart

I kissed you

Loved you

A melding of our souls and a wish to never part.

You held the door open

You allowed me to come in.

Whispered, “I love you”

As you took me to that place

I’ve never been.

You were lying there naked

Your body a reflection of the divine.

I saw you there

Naked

As you absorbed the rays of my mind.

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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This is a poem about last night’s hockey game, or is it?

Last Night’s Hockey Game

I saw a hockey game last night

It was there that I saw the fight

The one that some saw as a brawl

While others stated, “It’s part of the game after all.”

I saw a hockey game last night

And it made me wonder

Yes I know we have come a long way

But the crowd cheered and the noise felt like thunder.

There were punches

And there was blood.

And the “settling of the score”

And some in the crowd wanted more.

I saw a hockey game once

Perhaps it was played in my mind.

I thought it was played right

I think it took place somewhere outside of time.

Maybe it has yet to happen… I don’t know

Perhaps it happened a long time ago.

And they played for the game

For the love of stick and puck in a having fun domain.

It was hockey and that I’m sure

There was skating on ice and speed

And shots that hit the nets

And the cheers came from the players’ silhouettes.

I saw a fight today

On the internet and it took place not far away.

It happened in a school yard they said

The two wanted to “settle the score”, is what I read.

I saw a hockey game last night

It was there I saw the fight.

The one that some saw as a brawl

While others stated, “It’s part of the game after all.”

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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This Is a Poem About Last Night’s Hockey Game?

A poem about a man and woman on Vegas Boulevard who question their circumstances by looking for answers in what they see as humanity’s game.

In This Humanity’s Game Poem

A man

on Vegas Boulevard

on a scorching, hot day in Sin City

experiences awe for the created structures that he sees

and is amazed by all that his eyes behold.

For a moment

during his pursuit for entertainment and a need for satisfaction

he wonders

on this hot and scorching afternoon

how all was created

and who was responsible

and who received recognition and the fame

in this….humanity’s game.

A woman

on Vegas Boulevard

her hair disheveled

her hands and clothes dirty

is searching

from garbage bin to garbage bin

for scraps of food.

For a moment

during her pursuit for sustenance

she wonders

on this scorching afternoon

how all was created

and who is responsible

and who is to blame

in this….humanity’s game.

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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Following are five spiritual poems dealing with both the known and the unknown.

Darkness and Light

How do you turn off the darkness?

How do you set it aside?

Where do you find that switch?

That only you can provide.

And as your light shines on me

As it touches my being

I begin to surmise

That it’s a change I’m foreseeing.

The Virtue of Light of Day

In the chasm of the unknown

there lingers a need

to be one with consciousness

to be one with being.

However…

thoughts interrupt this emanation

and the soul takes a back seat

to the eternal bliss

that one strives to find.

But stillness helps consciousness break through

escaping the encapsulating thought-created cocoon of the mind

diminishing the need of the ego to control and to be

allowing for true self to emerge and meet the virtue of light of day.

Grace

In a state of confusion…little patience…without clarity

Empty of tranquility.

There I was…

But there I did not seek to be.

The guiding path lost within my world.

I was perplexed…bewildered…defeated.

I needed amity of body, mind, and spirit.

I needed the breath of life

to infuse wholeness into my existence.

But that I felt helpless to achieve.

So I sat alone.

In silence…

I waited.

Consumed by my condition.

Unable to call upon decipherability

so as to understand the complexity of my despair

and find solutions for my state…

I surrendered

to the abyss of the unknown.

And then…

I felt it

the emergence of the unexplained

slowly…gently…mysteriously….

taking hold of my being.

for Grace now made her appearance…

and soothed

my sheered and shattered soul.

(This point was awarded fourth place in a poetrysoup.com contest in April of 2021)

I Want to Meditate

I want to meditate

To sit in that state of silence all alone

To bring tranquility to mind

And have meditation take me home.

On a Chain I Wear a Cross

On a chain, I wear a cross

Around my neck I do.

I don’t wear it to say, “I Am”

I don’t wear it for you.

For me it’s a symbol of compassion and humility

And the world’s need for love.

For me it is a cry for a peaceful existence

Just like the symbol of the dove.

When I was young I often went to church

It was a place my parents brought me to.

For I was baptized Greek Orthodox

Therefore, the expected thing to do.

There, many things made sense to me

Now some did not, and don’t.

But I learned to not be bothered

By inaccuracies and the unexplained – I said I won’t.

In my later years I searched, felt, and realized the mystical

In the one God I believe exists.

And in the plants, the animals, and of course humans too

I discovered a spirituality that subsists.

My beliefs might now be complex

Some might say they do not fit a norm.

As I read about religions and the spiritual world

I ultimately went through a reform.

Today I still go to my Orthodox Church

To pray in a place of refuge, where God they say resides.

To fulfill a never ending need to seek, learn, and understand

And to still my rather busy mind.

On a chain, I wear a cross

Around my neck I do.

I don’t wear it to say, “I am”

And I don’t wear it for you.

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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Spiritual Poems of the Known and the Unknown

About this poem: This poem, in a somewhat random way, deals with the world, you, me, my soul (maybe your soul), and the mind; in other words with the randomness of existence. It just about covers everything…lol. Enjoy and interpret as you see fit.

The World – You – Me – My Soul – and the Mind

Do you sometimes wonder

how to introduce what is out there to your soul and mind?

how to understand that which exists, in that period of time?

and in that present moment is real, and do you feel guilty if you leave it all behind?

Have you heard that your ego will prevent you

from being who you were meant to be?

And you get absorbed in society’s creations

but you find yourself confused, and unable to see.

And you might search the news

looking for those reads that will reaffirm what’s on your mind.

And you “stumble upon” absurd conspiracy theories

which you “miraculously” find.

Can you somehow see a reflection of who you are?

Or is the mirror broken, left far behind?

Can you ask yourself, honestly, sincerely, what the solution is for human kind?

Or do you get lost within the scope of your very own personal mind?

And as you sit there

do you blame others while looking for a system that creates the hurt?

Deep down you know the answer

it’s selfishness, hatred, power, and greed, which continue to subvert.

What is real and what is fake?

I often wonder what is true.

Yes I listen and I analyze

I use up a portion of my time to see it from a particular point of view.

For now I want to spend my time

searching within my soul for something that I’m unable in this world to find

which baffles me some of the time

because occasionally it’s born and exists deep within my very own mind.

I’m just a being, living and trying to be that which I foresee

searching for the spiritual in that which is before me

at times attempting to find meaning in mortality

with a burning desire to understand and see.

It is contentment which I pursue

Even look inside the cracks

But at times like these contentment hides

And the road ahead confuses me, so I retrace, as I retract.

Maybe I got it all wrong

Maybe some of it is right

Maybe my vision is blurry and foggy

Maybe at times I have trouble seeing the light.

I can take what is happening out there

interpret using knowledge, a view, and perhaps a belief

but often the truth is just not there, and the news really stinks as it permeates

and the nature of the many, rarely offer one relief.

And I’m left with the choice to accept, dissolve, or set it all aside

using my soul and my very own mind.

And after attempting to understand

I ultimately, usually, leave it all behind.

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The World Poem-You – Me – My Soul – and the Mind

This is a “humanity plan poem” that is about a needed change in man’s (and I am putting the responsibility and blame here on the male gender, more so than the female) aggressive mindset identity that exists in today’s world. This identity/mindset has historically resulted in many of the negative outcomes and ill affects often perpetrated on people and other forms of life on this planet. Man today, and historically, has often been a plague to himself and to others by believing in what I call a “macho” identity. This identity/mindset has roots in prehistoric times, which man continues to identify with in today’s world. The violence, the discriminatory thinking and actions, and the aggressive behavior that is exhibited in today’s world is a direct result of man’s mind. In order to see real change, man needs to better understand what is required for blissful existence, which is that man’s consciousness needs to change. This I believe is where the root of the problem lies, and if we do not go to the root of this problem, then we will continue on a road that will be more chaotic than it has been, using a band aid approach to stopping the bleeding.

A Humanity Plan Poem

In the beginning….a long time ago…man discovered aggression.

He lived and survived

then with passing of time

existence was no longer dependent on a combative mind.

But he continued to see power in his macho ways.

Aggression perverted….resulting in malaise.

Barbaric lessons learned

Bullies created….and superiority desires yearned.

And hatred pervaded….and took deep root.

And before its appearance

in the alleys and streets

sprouted in the mind….grew in the heart….and now it repeats.

Violence does not come in only one form.

Real peace and tranquility will never ensue….until they become the norm.

For an onslaught has emerged once more….and if we ignore

Circumstances will ignite….a deplorable war.

And if malevolence continues to rise and advance

Care….love….compassion….does not stand a chance.

So who is to blame?…. Is it you…or is it the other?

This hostility against….sister and brother.

Change is possible in the hearts of men

but perceived strength needs to be reformed….and the questions are how and when?

Leadership….support….protection….should be the true qualities of man.

Now is the time to give birth….to a caring humanity plan.

In the beginning….a long time ago….man discovered aggression

lived and survived.

And now during this moment in time

blissful existence impossible….without a peaceful noncombative mind.

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A Humanity Plan Poem That Cries For Change In Man

POEMS OF THE MIND: These poems deal with anxiety, depression, and addictions – they are poems of the mind. In our society, mental health ailments are very prevalent. In order to better deal with this pandemic, two things are needed: one is awareness and involvement, and the other is funding to support mental health initiatives, research, and programs.

The Anxiety Nightmare

In the deep dwelling complexities of darkness, without light

I fall

then enter the journey of despair.

Disconsolate and forlorn

I encounter those places where fear dwells.

I ask….I beg….I plead….

to be free of the nightmare that is

and to find peace

by encountering the tangible

where intellect recognizes reason.

Further attempting to end this horrendous and crippling journey

I beseech mindfulness to enter my course

and take me into the bountiful realm of tranquility.

But the nightmare….continues….

a stranglehold on my being

as it reaches its destination

leaving me in a state

where my soul has no solace

and is empty of the serenity of spirit.

Anxiety/….Once Again….You Appear

What insidious appearance have you once again made, when I thought I had sent you to the bottom of Hades’ world?

But I see you’ve resurfaced, this time as a ghost occupying the mind’s house, as you attempt to haunt me and make me feel the horror through those thoughts of illusionary reality.

You have reacquainted me with your world, making my world one of desperation, leaving me searching for my sanity to find.

I scream at your presence, and attempt to shake the foundation of your non-existent soul, but you overcome my wishes, and leave me in a state of utter despair, as I look to sever the thought bonds that you’ve created.

You are the devil in my world, the insanity of my existence, as you force me to my knees.

And while I plead and hope to conquer and overcome, it is clear that your goal is my misery, as you insert a dagger deep within my soul.

So be it….present to me what you will….attempt to trick me and hold me in your grasp….manipulate my mind and thoughts….make me feel the fear….

But again, this time, it will only be short lived….for I will once again….calmly….but surely….send you away from my mind’s eye, and have you disappear into the depths of your created hell.

Addictions in This Realm of What Is

Feeling alone….overwhelmed….and conquered….I try to remain in a dispositional state of mind by contemplating ways of making what appears to be impossible, possible….in this realm of what is.

Struggling with the mind, and attempting to substitute the patterns of enticing and gripping destruction with approaches to overcome, I endeavor to convince the brain to alter habits that defy logic, by making the intangibles, tangible….in this realm of what is.

A crack, and then a light escaping from consciousness, and a glimpse of presence of mind altering joy and blissful reality, but once again elusive, dissonant, and inconsistent….in this realm of what is.

And now I sit feeling ill-fated and defeated, but forever seeking and pleading to overcome this addictive entrapment, in order to find peace….in this realm of what is.

One moment a feeling that you have conquered….the next….falling into a state of despair with a belief that overcoming will never be possible….in this realm of what is.

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Like I mentioned in my post’s introduction: awareness, involvement, and funding is desperately needed in order for advancements to take place in the area of mental health. Please consider either getting involved and/or donating to one of the following mental health organizations:

http://www.camh.ca

http://ymhc.ngo

http://braincanada.ca

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Thank you!

Poems of the Mind

“I Am” is a two part personal perspective poem questioning, “Who am I?”. Of course the phrase “I Am” has links and ties to the spiritual and religious world, but this poem deals with two contrasts: one being rather dark and perhaps sinister, while the other is brighter and optimistic, with perhaps elements of realization and enlightenment. I hope that something in this poem triggers an awareness or realization within you.

I Am (Dark)

I am a soul who sometimes does not know

the sorrow and hatred that I allow to grow.

I am a being who cannot see

the face of prejudice that I have within me.

I am a man who will not know

until I realize the faults within my being which I sow.

I Am (Light)

I am but an eagle in flight

spreading my wings so as to absorb the complexities of life.

I am a soul that questions its plight

Dispositional, at times overwhelmed, but determined to overcome my fright.

I am a flower in a garden, in the morning light

the dew upon my petals still, enveloped in illuminating visions of transcendence and insight.

Yiorgos’ Poetry of the Soul and Mind

http://www.iamthedoc.com

http://www.poetrysoup.com

“I Am” – A Two Part Personal Perspective Poem asking the Question ‘Who Am I?”

Media and News Poems: The media is a powerful entity in our world. To a great degree, it has the power to influence our minds, at times creating confusion and/or distorted and bias “news” that runs contrary to what news should be.

In addition to mainstream media, we have social media, which is filled with self serving, often emotional and mindless statements, testimonies, and conclusions, often using recipes of false news, lies, distortions, and inaccuracies.

The following poems have embed within them my interpretations and conclusions of the consequences of mainstream media, social media, and the news, both for society and the individual.

About the following poem: Early morning on my deck, a coffee in hand, soothing music playing, moments of tranquility and bliss, enjoying all which this beautiful day has to offer. And then I pick up my smart phone, for I desire to read the “morning news”…

In My Mind

As I sit here

Absorbing the calming rays of the morning sun

I read, and then realize how chaotic disarray attempts to make love with harmony

In s world of insanity

While it tries to influence my mind

During this moment in time.

I interpret the “informative news”

As a need to amalgamate absurdities

With solutions for serenity

While initially resisting wishes and temptations of conformity

In my mind

During this moment of time.

And then slowly I am swallowed up by these intellectual stupidities

And I lose clarity and sanity

And become a victim of hypocrisy

Falling head first into the world’s quicksand of misery

Which wants to swallow up my mind

During this moment in time.

About the following poem: And quite often… the lies and distortions… create confusion and delusion.

It’s Nothing But Delusion

Today they believed the lies

the distorted truths… the accusations… and wrong-doing cries

the created fabrications which are easy to consume

conceptualizations and distortions… abundant and abloom.

Responsibility once assumed… but now rarely seen

reality now falsified… made convoluted… and obscene.

And the beat goes on….

as the mind is twisted

like that character… on Prodigal Son.

And while these false narratives appear

which the perpetrator wishes that all will embrace

the ego desperately asserts and manipulates

loyalty and trust is what it requires, and necessitates

but the soul is slaughtered… beaten… and no where to be found

and truth is tossed… lost… by perplexing theories which abound

while delusion….

leaves nothing but despair and mind confusion.

And life goes on….

the mind twisted

like that character… on Prodigal Son.

http://www.poetrysoup.com

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An anger poem. How does one control an emotion like anger ? What does anger do to ones mind and soul? Is there an answer and solution?

Anger

I saw it again

That anger of mine.

On a window pane

In that room of time.

And it came into view

For me to behold.

Its image the same

Nothing new….same as old.

I took cloth in hand

Tried to wipe it away.

But it stubbornly remained

No words uttered….nothing to say.

So I dropped that cloth

And it fell to the floor.

And as I was leaving that room

Anger now….on a pane by the door.

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An Anger Poem

Covid 19 Poems of Confusion, Surrender, Darkness and Light

One might say that these four poems deal with the pandemic: three poems were created during the pandemic, and a forth was written about a year before the start of Covid 19. However, these poems might also be relevant regarding internal and external strife that often tends to be part of life and living.

Close to the beginning of the pandemic, I made a few phone calls one day to see how some family members were doing. During my conversations with them, I heard them express many of the feelings and thoughts that I was having at the time. I took some of what they said, and some of what I thought and felt, and wrote the following poem:

From Confusion to Surrender

I am but feeling quite alone

wishing deep in my heart to come back home.

What does one do when one feels this despair

in these circumstances that surround him, but can’t compare?

I know there is a light embedded in this shell

I know there is hope that surfaces, but at times it’s hard to tell.

But I now feel those things that can diminish the light

for I can’t even see the unknown, as I look up at the stars on this disturbing night.

And in the gloom, in the turmoil that exists

I fight that which they tell me I should not resist.

It is with an intent that does not seem to die

as I keep asking that question, “Why?”

I choose to be, I chose this course

but it is confusion that I feel the most.

For I have this need to see, to hear, to understand

these perplexing circumstances here at hand.

But who am I, and who are you?

just souls intent on seeing this through.

And hoping for a chance to see that day

when all is calm, and that which is, is gone away.

Covid 19 often brought out that which is good in humanity, but sadly also that which isn’t. I saw compassion, empathy and love, but at the same time saw selfish characteristics that surfaced which might have pointed to an inability to understand more than an inability to care.

The Dark Side of Humanity

Lost in a desperate mind world

Seeking a sense of community

and a need to belong

through an innate desire to be whole again.

But confused…

The path nebulous.

And through indoctrination

either directly or unintentionally

or perhaps inadvertently

harboring a vision that individuality is the answer

through a desire to see and “find oneself”

but left with only a false mirrored reflection

of who one really is.

And one says, “It is my right!”

hoping that it becomes “their destiny”

but really is only “deluded identity”.

And this desire

gives life to the belief

that one will find and understand oneself

by way of separating from that “other”.

The result…

illness within

then spreading to community

for the connectivity link now broken.

And without humility…

there is little compassion.

And without compassion…

there is a lack of understanding.

And without understanding…

one becomes lost

in ones own separate ways…

severed from the natural world of community…

exhibiting the dark side of humanity.

Life is beautiful, but living often has it challenges. The following poem deals with life’s dark experiences.

Existing In a World of Sorrow

There was confusion

and devastation

followed by a feeling of extreme desperation

as I longed for rejuvenation

so as to go back into the world that I once knew

a world where equanimity

was so true.

But this I was helpless to achieve

just as I was not able to foresee

all that was in store for me

and as I tried to understand

through a persistent desire

to make mind sense of the circumstance

I was devoured

by an emotional fire.

And more confusion

because of all that consumed me

and the feelings that entombed me.

And I eventually started to see my limitations

while hoping for reconciliation

from those feelings I could not control

By way of logic that I knew the mind could hold.

Though benumbed

I desperately attempted to explain the mind’s realizations

to the heart

but logic had been torn away

from my being’s state

for I was now lost in a life of hardship

in a nightmarish dream

and I was left with my heart’s

subliminal scream.

And I asked…

Where can I find tranquility

from this calamity

that is in the here and now?

And then I finally realized

what I had been offered

and what was now proposed.

I had to let it be.

How could I hold on

when it was so painful for me?

So I surrendered

to the morning seed

which had inseminated my world

and I succumbed to an existence

that seemed surreal

but the course needed

so as to heal.

The above poem was written before Covid. Hauntingly, I see within it a prediction of what was to come.

And the final poem in this series is one of hope…

The Light

I saw the clouds creep in and obscure the light

As the evening appeared, and introduced a stormy night

And I longed for the morning, and a sky without fright.

I looked to the heavens, scared, and ready to morn

searching for that which would calm my internal storm

and eliminate the pestilence that had made its appearance

and was suddenly born.

So I laid down my body to find sleep and rest

from the turmoil and confusion, deep within my chest.

And in the morning I awoke, and the clouds had disappeared.

The storm was gone

and the sun’s shinning light had eliminated my fear.

Covid 19 Poems of Confusion, Surrender, Darkness and Light

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Welcome to My Poetry (Creative Unknown Meets Poet)

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Welcome to my poetry site. In order for the poet to create a successful poem, the poet needs to first be receptive to that which he or she will ultimately create. In other words, there needs to be synchronization between the universe of creativity, and the poet, so as to create the poem.

The Universe of Creativity….the Poet….and the Poem

The poem

plucked out of the universe of creativity

the structure perhaps in place.

The poet’s mind

a receptor

like a television receiving radio waves.

A message emerges and a pattern appears

then to be arranged and carefully designed

like a quilter creating a quilt.

And then guided to play with words and structure

so as to fine tune

like a musician fine tuning a musical instrument.

The poet beckoned

by the universe of creativity

summoned to create the poem.

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Yiorgos’ Poetry of the Soul and Mind

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Welcome to my poetry