TRANQUILITY, SOLITUDE, AND OTHER POEMS

By Karen Lee Oliver

In Tranquility, Solitude and other Poems, Karen Lee Oliver explores many dimensions of tra

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writers Branding LLC
• Release date: Aug 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639453535

Book preview

ABOUT THE BOOK

The force or strength of tranquility in everyday life is the existential center of my book. Pure philosophical thought colored by tinges of images of good and evil all baring some relationship with tranquility, the lack of tranquility, feelings of tranquility itself, pathways that lead to tranquility, meanings of tranquility in life and finally the beginnings of tranquility and our basic need for a tranquil life. This theme which runs through the center of my writings uses the poetic format combined with imagination to present to the reader new ideas, develop strong feelings and artistically express the fundamental and almost religious devotion of us all to peace and tranquility.

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PART I

Tranquility

(OPENING QUOTE FOR BOOK III

ENTITLED TRANQUILITY)

THROUGH SUFFERING

COMES UNDERSTANDING,

THROUGH UNDERSTANDING

COMES COMPASSION,

THROUGH COMPASSION

COMES LOVE.

—RICHARD WAGNER (1813-83)

FROM PARSIFAL.

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The Janus

Along a large, lighted

Winding staircase,

In a relict mansion

Renaissance—style

Early American;

A hero waits

For his act to play.

Life has engulfed

His love—played emotions

Into the curl of the pigs tail.

So much so that

No matter how he plays the cards,

The win,

Is now a life—long wait.

Now in the drear

He contemplates his escape.

Then it comes—

To become the Michelangelo

At the top of the staircase—

To become the statue that moves!

.

A Piece Of Eight

Warm body

Shelter me,

Consent to my profit

From your golden acquaintance—

Buy me

From the spoilers

Of the world—

A tossed relict

Of tradition,

Worn by the cares of time.

Into your hands

Carry, conceal

My worth

As you would

A priceless treasure.

Forever

A piece of the past;

Forever

A coin toward your future.

.

Onus

You are the sky

And I am water.

In such a way,

And so it is,

That we relate.

When it is hot

I disappear into you.

Later, you cry

And I replace the dry land below.

Then, flowing over

Through velvet land

I wander as a river

And laugh when I touch

Your horizon.

.

The Heir

Locked in some recess

Of the mind,

A tattered remnant

Of the Renaissance,

An odd memento of the past,

De l’argent;

Loose their way

Into the hands

Of forgotten descendants.

With the inheritance

Of the blessed Pope,

A timeless relative of Jesus

Engulfs the mayhem

In a world handed-down

Through generations of Destroyers.

To unlock that recess—

To use the things

That will open the mind—

A long-ago dream of Beauty,

The strange language

That curls off the tongue,

The arrogance, the attitude, T

he style, the subtle grace,

Bejewel the wearer

Making jealous all those

Who come into His ken;

Making Him the Envy.

.

Three Days Gone

Pearls of water

Dropped from the sky.

On a day

When all the tables,

All the houses,

All the people,

All the buildings,

Were

Empty, Empty.

We went waiting

For a sign,

The sun,

A sound,

The meaning;

To arrive—

At the out-skirts

Of the town

Where bombs

Were being dropped.

No one knew

Why it was.

No one could

Stop the chaos.

We went

Screaming

To escape,

With no vacation,

On that day of reckoning.

When it appeared

There was an oasis

Just

Outside of our reach.

.

In The Cold Light Of December Fire

In the depth

In the dark

Without the quinidine

Hot in the malarian ecstasy

Human missiles dropping

Bombs falling

Innocent bodies

Churning up the earth

There was no silence

No moment of calm

No feeling of comfort

No relief

From the war

That raged

Against itself

In the fleeting hours

We had left

Hanging onto rifles

Only a few shots left

We bowed our heads

Prayed through the

Booming crescendo

All the way

Into the wild blue yonder.

.

Remembering Joe Smith

It was an uneasy

Relationship

From the beginning.

Joe and I

Meandered

Through crowded city streets

While stray cats meowed

At people passing

Dark alleyways

Like rat packs

Along light-striking

Avenues.

We loved.

Time passed.

I fell away from others.

There was no union

Between Joe and I.

Just what

I guess remains

A kind of

Life-long scar

One can never forget.

When days become dim

As years roll past

I won’t forget him.

Nor the tranquil pleasure

He was to me,

Nor the engraved

Image

Of him

Scared upon

My mind.

.

From Now Until Here-After

THIS SPACE IN TIME

WE SHARE

HOLD

EXTEND

BECOME

GROW THROUGH

AN EXERCISE

OF THE MIND

OF THE BODY

INTO THE FUTURE.

TO BE PART

OF THE HERE-AFTER.

SOME PLACE

AN EXTENSION

WHERE OUR UNION

HAS ITS MEANING

BEYOND

NOW—

FROM NOW

UNTIL HERE-AFTER.

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Three