Enduring the anguish of thinking… A Poem by Richard Lloyd Cederberg

 
“There was only the cemetery itself, spread out in the moonlight like a soft grey hallucination, a stony wilderness of Victorian melancholy.” (IN MEMORY)
 

 
How silently
And stern these
Straining days pass,
Where, at times, in open tyranny,
Scattered thoughts scramble
For measured application…
 
O dismay,
Each day
Embracing (the
Great word ‘WAIT’),
This (at times) tragic fate
Impelling the mind to reengage
With something other than
A wearied wide road
Worn smooth…
Another fluster putting glory on
[Hoping] to rediscover where
Newness is apparent, and where honest
Happiness is more than a shadow of things past…
 
Throughout life
(I’ve) known thinking
That piled-up (at times)
Like a day’s dead sanctities;
Thought-quakes pricked with panic –
Like vexed birds flailing on windowpanes –
Thoughts – in rising currents wild with leaves –
Trembling in trepidation at the tumults of the day,
But clinging to where Earth and Heaven meet crying:
O Burning Lion – Creator, from whom flows
The substance of all fresh thinking;
Help me bear this anguish…

    (II) AN APPEAL…

O breath of life…
Breathe on this mind that broods
(At times) so helpless and unnerved…
 
…From the utmost corners,
O divine breath,
Command my lassitude
To drift from me like a whisper
 
Preserve me from these penumbras
Where despair shrieks in the belly of clouds;
 
And, where from all dark-lipped furrows,
Hubris strolls in chatoyant silk
 
…From the four winds come,
O breath,
To breathe upon
These outworn motivations,
That this slain heart could rise up
To write rather of life than of death
 
… From the uttermost parts,
O breath of life,
Breathe on me that I might suspire
As an Eagle stirring its nest;
Hovering over its young;
Spreading forth its majestic wings
To carry each of them up to the high-places;
For it is your breath (alone) O God that sustains me…

 
 
richard lloyd cederberg
 
10/16
 
“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Genesis 2:7
 
 
author-pic-2
 
BIOGRAPHY (10/2016) – Richard Lloyd Cederberg
 
Richard is the progeny of Swedish and Norwegian immigrants. He was born in Chicago Illinois. Richard began his journey into the arts at age six. For twelve years he played classical trumpet. But then, the British incursion of music (Beatles and the Dave Clark Five) influenced him to put down the trumpet to take-up acoustic and electric guitar, and, to write songs and lyrics. He toured professionally for ten years. In 1995 Richard was privileged to design and build his own Midi-Centered Recording Studio ~ Taylor & Grace ~ where he worked diligently until 2002. During that time he composed and multi-track recorded over 500 compositions and has two CD’s (‘WHAT LOVE HAS DONE’ and ‘THE PATH’) to his personal credit.
 
Richard’s interest in writing continues. His poetic invention confluxes integrative elements: history, parlance, alliteration, metaphor, allegory, characterization, spirituality, faith, eschatology, art, and subtext. Avoiding the middle-road; he takes advantage of diverse poetic anatomies including: Rhythmical, Poetic/Prose, Triolets, Syllable formats, Story-Poems, Freeform, Haiku, Tanka, Haibun, and Acrostic. Richard’s work has been (and is) featured in a wide variety of anthologies, compendiums, and e-zines including: Poetry Life and Times, Artvilla, and Motherbird. Richard was nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize.
 
Published books include:
 
The Monumental Journey Series (adventure/mystery/historical fiction) 1. A MONUMENTAL JOURNEY… 2. IN SEARCH OF THE FIRST TRIBE… 3. THE UNDERGROUND RIVER… 4. BEYOND UNDERSTANDING. A new adventure/thriller, BETWEEN THE CRACKS has been published. A new eschatological drama – AFTER WE WERE HUMAN – is being written. Follow the lives of several friends as a new race of ageless multi-dimensional humans comes back to Earth with their Creator to rule and reign for 1000 years.
 
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www.richardlloydcederberg.com
www.christianstoryteller.com

 
 
 
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Poems with Art | Poems by M. Earl Smith | Art by 3valynn

poems-with-art

M. Earl Smith, is an undergrad at the University of Pennsylvania.

He brings poems that were paired with abstract paintings composed by a three year old artist who works under the pen name “3valynn”.  You can view her artwork and the book HERE.

Violet Frenzy

 

Violet Frenzy

The drums sound the song

Of battle, intense, inviolate

Caught in a storm of color

A frenzied storm of violet

An enemy thus unseen

Blind to the naked eye

What is this that should be?

Our destiny we cannot deny

So on the brave soldiers march

Into the shroud of darkness

Mindless to political demarche

The time is upon us

This war, however

Is not built upon hate

Only love, now and forever

Shall be humanity’s fate

Some battles are fought

Over space, resources and land

Some people are sold and bought

For whatever the world commands

But this is a tale of joy

A poem of unrequited love

There is nothing in the deep violet

That can force this undone

Diamond Candy

Diamond Candy

Every girl’s dream

A jewel that she can bandy

A woman’s best friend

A piece of diamond candy

The light refracts the jewel

Fracturing the light about

Show it to all her friends

Her diamond candy she will flout

Pink and blue the colors

That tell us who we are

Yet every girl knows

Diamond candy shines like a star

White line, twisting path

Of which we must explore

Every girl begs

Diamond candy, give me more!

So if you want to know

A way to a girls heart

You have to know her favorite

Diamond candy, thou art!

Primary Ambition

Primary Ambition

The dawning of a new day

A chance to start anew

The path of a middle way

Colors, fresh and true!

Paint touches canvas

Giving us something fresh

No need to have planned this

Art put to the test

Each color with a meaning

This art, pure emotion

Creativity through is seeping

A muse that demands devotion

This art, an unnamed feeling

Joy and serious, true

An artistic endeavors dealing

A talent held by few

There’s no way we can know

An artist’s true intention

One thing for which we must go

Is their primary ambition

Snow Queen

Snow Queen

Her title

Betrays the trust

That her subjects have

In her

To do her best

To care for them

To protect them

To do what’s right

To do what’s fair

To do what’s just

So, the snow bears down

Blanketing the land

In a sheet

Of the purest white

It does so

Only at her command

So that the children

Can play

In snowdrifts

As high as city walls

And spend their day

Lost

In a cloud of white

Summer Daze

Summer Daze

Summer daze

Bright color craze

Try to change

Trying to say sane

Colors love me

Orange and peach cry

So in love

With the summer sky

Summer daze

Covers the town

No chance to laze

The king needs his crown

Makes me happy

Makes me free

I can’t wait to see

What it’s gonna be!

Summer daze

Lights up my eyes

Makes me smile

As the evening dies

Come tomorrow

It’ll return again

Then we’ll be

Off to Neverland!

Streamers

Streamers

The ticker-tape parade

Rings in the new year

Time to celebrate a year from another day

The air full of streamers

A joyful celebration

Of a time a year ago

A time for utter elation

As we await the future to unfold

The colors fill the air

As the party carries on

Life is all but fair

As we sing that ole happy song

Hugs to go around

As we love our fellow man

A bright, joyous sound

As life, it seems, starts again

So let’s ring that old bell

And gather once again

Sing it over every hill and dale

The new year has began!

CONNECTION UNMADE. A Poem by John Grey

 

It’s a long long night –
 
we bypass attraction on the way
to indifference -.
the beer is flat,
the bartender won’t refill our peanut bowl
 
nothing left to say
moves on to staring in each other’s face,
wondering what it takes for two people
to find even the merest attraction
in each other
and why the alcohol-fueled
loss of inhibitions is no help –
 
we’re just two different people
and, for all the liquor,
all the come-ons in the world.,
we’re fated to remain that way –
 
but I say, “It was nice talking to you”
and you reply, “the pleasure
was all mine” –
 
more hours wasted
on absolutely nothing —
 
sometimes I think
life was never meant
to happen.
 

 
File0004
 
 
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Gargoyle and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Cape Rock and Spoon River Poetry Review. To view more of his work www.motherbird.com & Poetry Life & Times
 
 
 
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Those smiles – A Poem by Bhuwan Thapaliya

 

Forced from her cloistered life
she walked on the street
 
for the first time in her life
after the quake.
 
“Is it, the beginning of the end
of the Goddess reign?”
Somebody asked.
 
The living Goddess just smiled
and walked on and on.
 
Those smiles changed completely
the way we see our future and extol our past.
 
The earth begins to tremble.
The buildings begin to sway.
 
Is it, the beginning of the end
of the mankind reign on earth?
 
We may as a species, pass out, too.
The earth keeps finding something new.

 
 
Bhuwanthapaliya picture

Bhuwan Thapaliya works as an economist, and is the author of four poetry collections. Thapaliya’s books include the recently released Safa Tempo: Poems New and Selected (Nirala Publication, New Delhi), and Our Nepal, Our Pride (Cyberwit.net). Poetry by Thapaliya has been included in The New Pleiades Anthology of Poetry and Tonight: An Anthology of World Love Poetry, as well as in literary journals such as Urhalpool, MahMag, Kritya, FOLLY, The Vallance Review, Nuvein Magazine, Foundling Review, Poetry Life and Times, Poets Against the War, Voices in Wartime, Taj Mahal Review, and more.
 
Author
Amazon.com/Our Nepal Pride Bhuwan Thapaliya

 
 
 
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of all that remains fruitless…A Poem by Richard Lloyd Cederberg

OF ALL THAT REMAINS FRUITLESS
 
Anyone can kill
No matter what religion
Injects the morphine
Of a lofty consciousness
Or a glowing hereafter
 
Clouded sorcery
Perverting (the nature of)
With clever magic
Stealing spirit from moments;
Another piper’s flute-song
 
Cowards behind masks
Fighting for all lesser gods
A scaled death-blade sweeps
In an ancient hellish land
Abbadon brings blood and death…
 
They never adapt
Brabbling about religion
How much is wasted
Barren days they’ve borne the grief
Of all that remains fruitless
 
Hoping to transcend
(No matter what false promise)
One satinpod seed
Sees Hesperus at nightfall
Dancing with boreal signs
 
Everyone will die
No matter what religion
Injects the morphine
Of a lofty consciousness
Or one radiant heaven
 
 
Richard Cedeburg(ii)

 
 
August 2007 Richard was nominated for a 2008 PUSHCART PRIZE. Richard was awarded 2007 BEST NEW FICTION at CST for his first three novels and also 2006 WRITER OF THE YEAR @thewritingforum.net … Richard has been a featured Poet on Poetry Life and Times Aug/Sept 2008, Jan 2013, Aug 2013, and Oct 2013 and has been published in varied anthologies, compendiums, and e-zines. Richard’s literary work is currently in over 35,000 data bases and outlets. Richard’s novels include: A Monumental Journey… In Search of the First Tribe… The Underground River… Beyond Understanding. A new novel, Between the Cracks, was completed March 2014 and will be available summer 2014.
 
Richard has been privileged to travel extensively throughout the USA, the provinces of British Columbia, Manitoba, Alberta, and Saskatchewan in Canada, the Yukon Territories, Kodiak Island, Ketchikan, Juneau, Skagway, Sitka, Petersburg, Glacier Bay, in Alaska, the Azorean Archipelagoes, and throughout Germany, Switzerland, Spain, and Holland… Richard and his wife, Michele, have been avid adventurers and, when time permits, still enjoy exploring the Laguna Mountains, the Cuyamaca Mountains, the High Deserts in Southern California, the Eastern Sierra’s, the Dixie National Forest, the Northern California and Southern Oregon coastlines, and the “Four Corners” region of the United States.
 
Richard designed, constructed, and operated a MIDI Digital Recording Studio – TAYLOR and GRACE – from 1995 – 2002. For seven years he diligently fulfilled his own musical visions and those of others. Richard personally composed, and multi-track recorded, over 500 compositions during this time and has two completed CD’s to his personal credit: WHAT LOVE HAS DONE and THE PATH. Both albums were mixed and mastered by Steve Wetherbee, founder of Golden Track Studios in San Diego, California.
 
Richard retired from music after performing professionally for fifteen years and seven years of recording studio explorations. He works, now, at one of San Diego’s premier historical sites, as a Superintendent. Richard is also a carpenter and a collector of classic books, and books long out of print.
 
 
 
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Big Boots To Fill (an original song by Norman Ball)

 
Editor’s Note under the present installation this excellent piece of video art music by Norman Ball, as below, a frequent contributer to Artvilla & Poetry Life & Times (see navigation bar) may take a few moments wait to replay.
 
Norman Ball FBP
 

 
NORMAN BALL (BA Political Science/Econ, Washington & Lee University; MBA, George Washington University) is a well-travelled Scots-American businessman, author and poet whose essays have appeared in Counterpunch, The Western Muslim and elsewhere. His new book “Between River and Rock: How I Resolved Television in Six Easy Payments” is available here. Two essay collections, “How Can We Make Your Power More Comfortable?” and “The Frantic Force” are spoken of here and here. His recent collection of poetry “Serpentrope” is published from White Violet Press. He can be reached at returntoone@hotmail.com.
 

 
 
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Without imitating self…A Poem by Richard Lloyd Cederberg

author
 
For writers there is a perpetual flow of ideas; a few are original, most are not. There is a good argument that originality loses its spark if one’s efforts are contrived, or done to gratify personal needs, are overly-influenced by another’s work, or become too intellectualized. Following are some darting thoughts about the process and what, I’m convinced, embodies creativity’s most valuable aspect of being able to think and act independently:
 
Poetic-prose…
 
____________________________________________
 
Those who strive for originality…
 
 
those
who purpose
to remain vibrant,
or vigorously focused
without succumbing to some
caricature-of-self; resolving
more as a guileless
voice,
reflective
incendiary
(intellectually),
germane, perhaps,
without looping or lapsing
into mannerism or affectations;
a personal challenge to remain original
without contention, or imitating self, or passing off
an old model-of-self; some contrived effort
to be seen with favor, (or)
to relive the
warmth and joy of
past seasons and victories
by re-hashing what once worked
 
~
 
attitude
pulling ideals
out from the ruts,
figuring the perfect-fitness
of what is shared while
defying branching
compromise
(in which)
ones
penned inventions
reflect only the sniveling drivel
of a writer’s beleaguered life…
 
~
 
…..luminous light
encircling
achievement in a false nimbus
invariably forces the greatest achievers
to their knees (temporarily) to reveal (to them)
(and to all those watching) that no human
is the full-bottle on anything…..
 
~
 
It’s wearying
(at times) finding
health in an art-form
where opinions are like weeds;
where arrogance becomes a shield
(to keep hidden all pecking-insecurities);
where the ceaseless cacophony of ‘me-noise’
refuses to understand why another’s hopeful face,
glowing from within, decays day-after-day,
or why a philosophic man is
obliged to mull a
lake’s health
in winters savagery, or
why faith causes the steadfast to
pause – momentarily – admitting they are
fully content to die in fields of common grass…
 
~
 
Knowing
every epoch
has its makers,
as every masterpiece
has (hidden in its guts) some
awful struggle; or perhaps some loss,
or life-altering circumstance, which
addresses the human-condition
with heedful strength as
altruisms-insomnia
bears an ongoing challenge to
palliate human-suffering and – if somehow
blessed to do so – (if only briefly) becomes
more archetypal than all originality
pawned-off with only
the faded colors
of worn-out dollar bills…
 
 
“When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.” John Fitzgerald Kennedy

 
 
August 2007 Richard was nominated for a 2008 PUSHCART PRIZE. Richard was awarded 2007 BEST NEW FICTION at CST for his first three novels and also 2006 WRITER OF THE YEAR @thewritingforum.net … Richard has been a featured Poet on Poetry Life and Times Aug/Sept 2008, Jan 2013, Aug 2013, and Oct 2013 and has been published in varied anthologies, compendiums, and e-zines. Richard’s literary work is currently in over 35,000 data bases and outlets. Richard’s novels include: A Monumental Journey… In Search of the First Tribe… The Underground River… Beyond Understanding. A new novel, Between the Cracks, was completed March 2014 and will be available summer 2014.
 
 
Richard has been privileged to travel extensively throughout the USA, the provinces of British Columbia, Manitoba, Alberta, and Saskatchewan in Canada, the Yukon Territories, Kodiak Island, Ketchikan, Juneau, Skagway, Sitka, Petersburg, Glacier Bay, in Alaska, the Azorean Archipelagoes, and throughout Germany, Switzerland, Spain, and Holland… Richard and his wife, Michele, have been avid adventurers and, when time permits, still enjoy exploring the Laguna Mountains, the Cuyamaca Mountains, the High Deserts in Southern California, the Eastern Sierra’s, the Dixie National Forest, the Northern California and Southern Oregon coastlines, and the “Four Corners” region of the United States.
 
 
Richard designed, constructed, and operated a MIDI Digital Recording Studio – TAYLOR and GRACE – from 1995 – 2002. For seven years he diligently fulfilled his own musical visions and those of others. Richard personally composed, and multi-track recorded, over 500 compositions during this time and has two completed CD’s to his personal credit: WHAT LOVE HAS DONE and THE PATH. Both albums were mixed and mastered by Steve Wetherbee, founder of Golden Track Studios in San Diego, California.
 
 
Richard retired from music after performing professionally for fifteen years and seven years of recording studio explorations. He works, now, at one of San Diego’s premier historical sites, as a Superintendent. Richard is also a carpenter and a collector of classic books, and books long out of print.
 
 
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Connecting to Infinity Poem by Marilyn McIntyre

connecting to infinity….

possibilities, outcomes
floating weightlessly
irridescent, intangible
mapped in stars
touching down
as pixie dust
and flirts of angel hair
choices to the right
paths to the left
someone has stolen the fork
in the road
moon cast wrinkles
characters “˜cross the lawn
where oh where
has my little mind gone
garrulous cotton candy clouds
griping frenzy
whisps of knowledge
ancestral crones
weeping, moaning heart in tears
annoint myself in
dandelion down
roll my head
in passing nimbus
connecting to infinity
again and again and again and again……..

connecting to infinity….

possibilities, outcomes
floating weightlessly
irridescent, intangible
mapped in stars
touching down
as pixie dust
and flirts of angel hair
choices to the right
paths to the left
someone has stolen the fork
in the road
moon cast wrinkles
characters “˜cross the lawn
where oh where
has my little mind gone
garrulous cotton candy clouds
griping frenzy
whisps of knowledge
ancestral crones
weeping, moaning heart in tears
annoint myself in
dandelion down
roll my head
in passing nimbus
connecting to infinity
again and again and again and again……..

Posted on January 6, 2005