Twitter Poetry: Some Vain Attempt

Some vain attempt at #poetry / To gain some awkward notoriety/ Words wandering over the waste / Of the anarchy of post-modernity / Look at the Pale Blue Dot / Wandering in the vastness of space / Crawling with dust mites lost in their own vanity / Scurrying about in haste / Stop

Anarchy

As the Psalmist said,
“Why do the heathen rage,
And the peoples imagine a vain thing.”

The incessant ranting and raving,
Continuously roars out its rage and hate.
The chasms between us widen,
In the echo chambers of our separate tribes,
And their self preaching to their choir.

A confusion of tongues;
A Babel of sound.
Pressing down upon us,
Grinding us down.

No middle ground.
No place of meeting.
Left to ourselves in idolatry and pride;
Reaping what we sow.
Sowing to the wind;
Reaping the whirlwind.

We would not have Him rule over us,
So are left to rule ourselves,
In the cosmic anarchy and chaos,
Of the choices we have made;
While shaking our fists into the sky.

© May 2018, all rights reserved

Winter Slumber

Snow falls driven by bitter wind, shaking bare trees and green evergreens. Earth slumbers beneath a white blanket. The sky gray with cloud.

An Autumn Woodland Trail

Cool autumn wind blows softly
Through the bare and leafless trees.
The woodland trail now covered
By those fallen denizens;
Fallen from on high,
Leaving branches naked
Against the pale sky
Of that more distant sun
Waning in the equinoxial Fall.

Sinking slowly into anticipated slumber,
Is the woodland nodding.
Winter sleep beckons
With dreams of spring to come.

But let the autumn linger
Yet a little while,
To dream of summer past,
As I walk another mile.

J. William Newcomer (November 15, 2016; All rights reserved.)

Do Not Disturb So Easily

Do not disturb so easily
The dead who lay beneath the sod;
Unknown to those who live and breathe,
Forgotten by all is the life they trod.

Stroll reverently among the graves;
This no place for light frolic or jest.
Remember soon will come the day,
You will too lay there among the dead.

Do not disturb so easily,
Those, who in rest, await the Day.
While you walk so blithely,
Giving no thought about your way.

Do not disturb so easily
The dead who lay beneath the sod.
The day will come when you too,
Will also go to meet your God.

J. William Newcomer
September 28, 2015 © All rights reserved.

Borealis

They battled…
Flashes lit up the darkness of the night…
Howls and shrieks and the blaring trumpets shattered the stillness,
Though scarcely heard so far below.

No room or place for tactics or strategy;
No flanking movements…
No lovely high ground,
No field of advantage,
Straight out head on clash, weapon upon weapon,
Brutal frontal assault…
One upon another…

Slowly the thrust of battle shifted…
Higher, higher, higher the warring armies ascended…
The clash of and flash of light faded,
And the darkness again ruled the night.
Until dawn broke across the eastern sky…

J. William Newcomer Copyright © December, 2014

doppelgänger

 I sit there idly in the van
As it slowly moves through the brushes
And water and rub-a-dubs and soap.
So as we come off the rinse
Into the fiercely blowing drying blasts of air,
I look to my left into the wall sized mirror
In which van and I are reflected. 

Startled I am to see myself there
As if in some philotic reflection of
 Myself in another universe,
 Or non-dimension outside of any universe.
I nod greeting to myself and
Wonder in our nodding to ourself,
If we could reach across the separation,
What would we do to one another?

 Copyright © 2014 by J. William Newcomer;  All rights reserved.