Rapture (A Cinquain)

Rapture

Exalted Joy

Ecstatic Denouement

Blissful Euphoric Enchantment

Delight

 

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Beauty

Spectacular

Aesthetic  True Colors

Contoured Splendidly in its Shape

Sunset

Hope you enjoy my first attempts at Cinquain poetry. Blame the beautiful Sisters of the Fey!

These various forms of poetry are fun formulae for words. (2-4-6-8=2) – vowels, that is.

Billy Ray Chitwood – May 19, 201

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Where the Dreams Are

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Where The Dreams Are

Where The Dreams Are
There on the horizon
Where the clouds
Where the Sun
Where the winds 
Bring shimmering shadows
On the placid surface
Of the cobalt sea…

 
Dreams live in all
These converging elements
From the melodious music
Of hungry souls…

 
Those who somehow
Know that the thief of night
Cannot for long defy the
Precious treasures that
Await us in that dazzling
Merger of colors…

Out there
On the horizon
Where the dreams are.

Billy Ray Chitwood – April 19, 2018 (ARCHIVES)

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The Light Must Be On

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The Light Must Be On

After all the years it’s still with me,

That fear that clutches in the night

The vulnerable spots of my Soul –

And there must be constant Light.

*

There even into the morning’s sunrise

The room which is my only world

A table light must continue its glow

To feed ravenous thoughts unfurled.

*

Whence came this awful curse of mind?

What mockery didst I make of Life

To cause thought demons to visit me thus?

To bring such monsters of strife?

*

Was it a childhood devoid of care and love?

A child’s witness to life’s vulgar showing?

The vagaries of unbridled behavior?

The bleak, lonely child’s unknowing?

*

Didst come with nature’s random imprint?

This ugly mistake with no remedy?

Whatever its symptoms my life goes on

And I fear that I still wish to be!

 

@Billy Ray Chitwood – April 15, 2018

*

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Lucky Old [Silly] Sun

Ray Charles That Lucky Old Sun – YouTube

 

Up in the mornin’
Out on the job
Work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old [silly] sun got nothin’ to do
But roll around heaven all day.

Fuss with my woman, toil for my kids
Sweat till I’m wrinkled and gray
While that lucky old [silly] sun got nothin’ to do
But roll around heaven all day.

Dear Lord above, can’t you know I’m pining, tears all in my eyes
Send down that cloud with a silver lining, lift me to Paradise

Show me that river, take me across
Wash all my troubles away
Like that lucky old [silly] sun, give me nothing to do
But roll around heaven all day

Send down that cloud with a silver lining, lift me to Paradise
Show me that river, take me across
Wash all my troubles away
Like that lucky old [silly] sun, give me nothing to do
But roll around heaven all day

  • Songwriters: Beasley Smith / Haven Gillespie

That Lucky Old Sun lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Courtesy of – Billy Ray Chitwood – April 10, 2018

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Oft We Look

Oft We Lookhope-end-tunnel-person-long-walking-towards-light-rays-39872266

Oft We Look

Oft we look beyond our longing selves

Seeking potions to fill the empty years

We stumble and fall so many times

And magically another dream appears.

 *

Our lives are filled with repetitions,

Dull daily ritual and chore,

Until chasing that newly found hope is

Dashed, we’re desperate, in need of more

 *

As we reach out for nebulous goals.

We despair ‘til comes some magic link

When Love suddenly comes on moonbeams

And Life is much more than we think.

 *

Love is then the totality of Life

Meaning, substance come from Love,

All that is Eternal, Noble and Pure

To find it, we must look Above.

 *

©BR Chitwood – March 9, 2018

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Howling at the Moon

Howling at the Moon

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Howling at the Moon

My howl grows weaker as the Summers come and go,

And the Winter’s bitter gales bring harsh realities to my world.

My aging body grows weary in its long seasonal quest to know,

To find in my meandering search the truth unfurled.

*

Yet, some abiding glimmer of Faith bids me journey on

As I see the eager and young give rise to the next tomorrow,

To kindle old desires, awaken my mind to a new kinder dawn,

Tease me with truths-bearing wisdom I might better know.

*

Then, as years speed by steadily, and my steps limp along,

The world seems more precariously out of its orbital sync

As though some treacherous fate on wicked winds so strong’

Comes to claim its ownership of an orb no longer able to think.

Poem by Billy Ray Chitwood – February 2, 2018 (Prev)

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TIME of My Life

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TIME of My Life

TIME of My Life

-(A Poetic Moaning)-

Time, Time, Time.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

Are You a merciless menace

Of maddening passing?

Time, Time, Time.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

Can you not slow your pace?

Prithee, can you not provide more

Of your endless ticks?

I yet have books to write,

Poetry to pose a riddle,

Or, think romantic allusions

Of Love and Ventures past!

Why must you be the sole

Arbiter of my Soul, while

I suspect my God might

Approve your ever rapid

Transit through my Dawns

And my restless Eves of Doubts?

Your pendulum swings to and fro

In a mocking remembrance

Of an ambiguous and most

Impassioned wayward passage.

Is it that I have betrayed you?

Or, pray tell, is it that you have

Seduced me with your Lure to

Love’s easy Manipulative ways?  

When did you begin your ticking?

Are you synonymous with an

Infinite Divinity noble of promise?

Or, are you but a simple dream

That gives each of us a mare

To ride through a long night,

Some Lottery of Chance?

I plea for more thoughts to

Unscramble – an act doubtlessly

Vainglorious of deed and effort.

© Billy Ray Chitwood –01/23/18

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