Meadow's Mourning (new poem)

"Meadow's Mourning"

by Tim Kavi

Overlooking a battlefield's view at sunrise

There was a gentle breeze

surrounding all the sounds 

they had ever made

breathing those sacred movements

there was light seen

made visible in lives lived

through the trees

while our tears fell

We vowed to never forget

our fallen ones

brothers and sisters

lost in the gleaming steam of war

where the Spirit lives

our love for them lingers

in bountiful gratitude

of freedom's flow

there are smiles to the unbounded

that take us in the purchased glow

of the morning's

visits to the memories

of pleasant companions

of all meaning

remembrances in our mournings of sorrow. 

AFTERWORD: A poem in appreciation of those who serve and served, on Veteran's Day. In remembrances of the wounded and those serving, and how we all recall those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. (This includes my great uncle Frank, whose plane went down in the English Channel during The Battle of Britain. He was a volunteer American Air Force pilot). ~~TK

Things Remain Unspoken (new Poem)

Things Remain Unspoken (Poem)
by Tim Kavi

when through all time

I wonder at what was uttered

I realized that the best

things remained unspoken

whether history's deeds

revealed the corrupted kingdoms

growing moss on the muttered

I surmised the most was lest

things remained unspoken

then I sat in the growing
objections to the projections

of enslaved abjections

I realized that promised freedoms

were but vocations given in jest

things remained unspoken

and when I saw what glorious

possessions did break through

and last with due obsessions

then was when I saw your lasting

face washed across existing space

of the revealed woman so blessed

things remained unspoken

things remain unspoken.

A-musing Wisecracks Across the Mind (poem)

A-musing Wisecracks Across the Mind (poem)

by Tim Kavi

watching out eight ways to beat

up around the bend

the shuffling of feet

Terpsichore moves so sweet

moving in dialectical ways

hegel and Marx wink wink

Linehan too; what's my storied days

basking in Clio's sunny rays

what's the rub; long tales at night

Ode to all longly said

grinning, bringing the light

Calliope eats a cantaloupe; such a sight

consuming me; love's sting

staying awake is no worry

linger long, no hurry, ring ring

with Eratos, love's the thing

A-musing laughing goddesses

dance across gardens

bulls in China shop hippotamuses

advocate very deep hypotheses (sic)

incorporating movements of verse

song and dance; cutting glass

poetry in planetary motions reverse

fading history finds it all the worse

until she dabs my feverish head.

Great Mothers (new poem)

Great Mothers

by Tim Kavi

for all those who live

and for those who hope

one, may be found

it is written

mothers of the heroes

eternally reside

in echoing songs 

of glorious triumph

sirens lost in the mist

overshadowed by her

who truly leads 

to the harbor of home

goddesses in full reveal

their mighty garments

in queenly rise

contained in love's mighty fist

held steadfast

earth's children and young

taught in persevering ways

of love

instructed across

the oceans of space and time

lessons never forgot

coming in the clouds

of judgment's might

smashing injustice

assuring fairness

and freeing all who hurt

above the final abyss

there is the way made

plain and sure

teeth of dragon dulled

sickle of wheat, harvested

and put away

death and famine

are stopped by an angel

with humanity's kiss

journey of the swift

to provide aid and assist

to all who are heroes

and bravely exist

walking surely

hand in hand

to paths higher up

mothers of the heroes

eternally reside.

artist's afterthought: this poem, written last year on my own mother's birthday (8-21) and shared here to celebrate Mother's Day--is a homage to great mothers everywhere, Jung's Great Mother archetype--and the history of all moms and their enduring love who instruct all of us; heroes to exist. The last line and elsewhere in the poem--reveals an acrostic: mothers of the heroes eternally reside--where the first letter of each word gratefully & lovingly spells M-O-T-H-E-R. ~~TK.

Splinters of Fading Time (new poem)

Splinters of Fading Time (poem)by Tim Kavi

Broken mirrors are but cosmic fractures lost

where hands once crept in space and time;

memory fragments of love losses

love of self, love of other, love of peace, love, love, love

with fascination to self visions at given points

in time; history lessons of the real

dark design 

there is only the many forking paths,

each will cost

some thing

where hope is the redemption of dancing shadows
and existing love takes us to the light
beyond appearance; there is the truth
of daylight's Platonic shine.

artist's afterthought: This poem seems to be about the passage of time and the deconstruction of time. It is also about existence and Plato's Allegory of the Cave. Love is the transcendent function. ~~TK

Garden's Delight (new poem)

Garden's Delight (Poem)

by Tim Kavi

The beauty of flowers

illuminate dusty corridors

of garden paths in my mind

their living love shines

wavelike webs hang on

forested branches of green

protecting the lovely living

things that move across forest floors

into lanes of memories

clearly defined and refined

by history's marching dialectic

across all time

on the porch, she looks

like Gaia, a grandmother sees

the sprouting earthy designs

she resigns to peace, for a grandma's love

is the garden's delight.

afterword: on the first day of Spring a poem about gardens and the gardeners of Nature in the ever tending wisdom of the ancient goddess and elder wisdom.~TK 

The Sentry (Poem)

The Sentry (New Poem)
by Tim Kavi

A sentry, eyes piercing the dark

outside my window, sitting near the walk

a majestic creature, ready to defend me

from dangers, it brought to me treasures

songs to hark

looking sideways when greeted

slyness and cleverness entreated

the creature gleams with bright eyes

when the moon is shone in high places

a  mouse scurries, a treat meeted

a cat stands guard in my neighborhood.

afterword;  a poem inspired after I saw a cat outside my window and sitting near the street.~~TK

Grandmother from the Sea (New Poem) (With Afterword)

Grandmother From the Sea (Poem)

by Tim Kavi

Grandmother, from the sea, rising to meet me

For parched Earth, raining on existent one

Families, cultures, heroes, villages, city hills

Some wonder how they're made, or came to be

Across history's battlefields, battles won

Descriptive words fail me, for logic kills

Blue sea arrivals, goddesses are you

Bringers of wisdom, granddaughter grandson

Ignorance stalls, only loving knowledge wills

Across the promise of next morning's dew

Love fills.

Afterword: On the occasion of this, my late grandmother's birthday (1900), I composed this curtal sonnet, a homage to the wisdom and love of grandmothers everywhere. Rightfully, wise loving grandmothers represent the Great Mother goddess archetype. I've written about my grandma (the inspiring poet) in this blog before on this date. (See: My Grandma the Poet). A book of her own poems is still scheduled to be published by TiLu Press (my own publisher); Heartland: Poems from the Heart by Lura Newland will be published on February 23, 2022. I love you, grandma!~~TK

Tree Paper Machine (New Poem)

Tree Paper Machine

by Tim Kavi

Tree

interconnected communicating

green limbs filled with life

bearing fruit

balancing energy in the shadowed forests

of Nature

becoming paper

dying leaves decay into the earth

seasons come and go

ideas transmitted

across the papers of existence

the ideas become machines

in the minds of those that seek to live

making tools that enslave

or make free

time and time again seasons

across the papers of history

annals of human created misery

transcending into beauty

that ascends rising

from the ashes

misbegotten machines

forgetting not our existence

the machines

have become our fascination

until what we say

is only through the interfacing

limbs of synthetic webs

devised by a network

tended to by machines

dependent upon machines

the gardens have forgotten

human attentions

and turn to seek one another

crying out in the night

of tree paper machine