Where can I find the Fulcrum,
Fragile quantum singularity?
Is it tangible? Can it be held --
Within my weakened grasp?
Is it visible? To fetch the eye --
The iris of a tired traveler?
Why do I struggle to attain
Simplicity others judge innate?
In prayer, I find solace --
In solitude, at my wits end!
Heaven lead this enervated soul
Have mercy on my fragile heart
Grant a moment's rest from The Chaos:
penetrating each grain of sand...
...whispering in the distance...
...ominous creaking from the Fulcrum.
MYHL
12/18/05
Commentary: Life is just one gigantic balancing act, isn't it?
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
December 18, 2005
December 16, 2005
The Attack of the Butterflies
The nightmare
...that haunts my shadow.
Invisible, ravenous beast
...leering in the darkness
Never can I dwell in solace
...the paranoia pervades my peace.
Deep within my core
...omnipresent...
Rooted deep within my spine.
The Cringe contorts my innards
...Oh God! I’m being eaten alive!
I sigh
...and...
my heart begins to flutter.
MYHL
12/17/05
Commentary: Inspired by an old picture from what seems like a lifetime ago. This is a poem about falling in love.
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
...that haunts my shadow.
Invisible, ravenous beast
...leering in the darkness
Never can I dwell in solace
...the paranoia pervades my peace.
Deep within my core
...omnipresent...
Rooted deep within my spine.
The Cringe contorts my innards
...Oh God! I’m being eaten alive!
I sigh
...and...
my heart begins to flutter.
MYHL
12/17/05
Commentary: Inspired by an old picture from what seems like a lifetime ago. This is a poem about falling in love.
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
December 8, 2005
The Emerald Phoenix
A bruised girl crashes through a decrepit rusty door.
Golden locks twisted, a tear from one jaded eye.
Searing lashes and cuts marring her pearly flesh
Terror
The eyes of an Emerald Phoenix ablaze
Scream through the silent void:
Why me...Help Me...
Burning through my stoic heart
Coldness transformed to embrace this wounded soul.
Melted by sorrow and desolation,
Mustering strength to heal this delicate nymph:
Suffering has made You:
The beautiful person you are…
…forevermore
With the merest glint and celerity of Zeus' hand
The salty puddle evaporates, returning to the abyss.
..Peace...at long last....
MYHL
12/08/05
Commentary: A poem inspired by what could be called either a dream or a nightmare. In it, a friend finally came to terms with her past and for the first time in nearly a decade she knew comfort and peace. Until that day becomes be a reality, I will continue to pray for her.
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
Golden locks twisted, a tear from one jaded eye.
Searing lashes and cuts marring her pearly flesh
Terror
The eyes of an Emerald Phoenix ablaze
Scream through the silent void:
Why me...Help Me...
Burning through my stoic heart
Coldness transformed to embrace this wounded soul.
Melted by sorrow and desolation,
Mustering strength to heal this delicate nymph:
Suffering has made You:
The beautiful person you are…
…forevermore
With the merest glint and celerity of Zeus' hand
The salty puddle evaporates, returning to the abyss.
..Peace...at long last....
MYHL
12/08/05
Commentary: A poem inspired by what could be called either a dream or a nightmare. In it, a friend finally came to terms with her past and for the first time in nearly a decade she knew comfort and peace. Until that day becomes be a reality, I will continue to pray for her.
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
November 22, 2005
Sonnet of Defeat
The desperate attempts for recovery turn vain
Imprisoned, locked in this collision course
Forgotten is wisdom, gone without a trace!
Folly and Caprice have eroded all sense
Already feeling the weight of this bane
No logic remains -- in coherent force
In due time, Fate will unmask her face
Everything subject to her prudence.
Love, thou art a cruel beast: silent and crude
Cast me away from thy vacuous grasp
Let me dwell alone -- in sane solitude!
Alas, confined between two savage traps!
Resistance fades as my resolution dies
Knocked down again by her keen blue eyes.
MYHL
11/23/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
Commentary:
This was an exercise in poetry where I tried to write an acrostic sonnet using a friend's name. My first attempt was using the name Colleen. It was an utter failure. My later attempt was using Tiffanie. So the poem spells out T-i-f-f-a-n-i-e-L-C-l-a-r-k .
Imprisoned, locked in this collision course
Forgotten is wisdom, gone without a trace!
Folly and Caprice have eroded all sense
Already feeling the weight of this bane
No logic remains -- in coherent force
In due time, Fate will unmask her face
Everything subject to her prudence.
Love, thou art a cruel beast: silent and crude
Cast me away from thy vacuous grasp
Let me dwell alone -- in sane solitude!
Alas, confined between two savage traps!
Resistance fades as my resolution dies
Knocked down again by her keen blue eyes.
MYHL
11/23/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
Commentary:
This was an exercise in poetry where I tried to write an acrostic sonnet using a friend's name. My first attempt was using the name Colleen. It was an utter failure. My later attempt was using Tiffanie. So the poem spells out T-i-f-f-a-n-i-e-L-C-l-a-r-k .
October 13, 2005
Lee Rena
[Dedicated to the orphans of Jacob's Home]
Dear sweet child, where is your family?
Who is beside you, to love you endlessly
A stranger born in a foreign land
Forgotten, abandoned with nothing in hand.
Dear sweet orphan have you a place to call home?
Have you any loved ones or do you suffer all alone?
Does anyone console you, wipe away your tears ?
Do you have anyone to comfort your fears?
Or on stormy nights, when you awaken to thunder
Must you cry yourself back to restless slumber?
Dear sweet Irena who will pray for your release?
Curse the ones that made you their bargaining piece
A blameless victim of the cruelest tradition
Amidst the loneliest depths of parentless perdition.
MYHL
10/13/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
Commentary: This poem is dedicated to the orphans at Jacob's Home in Pyongtaek, South Korea, the orphanage where I spent part of my childhood. Because of legislation within the past couple years these children will never be adopted. The justification of this law is based on placing bloodlines ahead of the well being of children. Orphans up to the age of 4 may no longer be adopted unless the family has formally relinquished the child. Children above the age of 4 may no longer be adopted, period. If I had been born at the wrong time, I would have spent 13 years in orphanages rather than being raised, loved and nurtured by my wonderful parents.
The title of this work refers to a little Ukrainian girl who was abandoned by her parents and left at this Korean orphanage. Since she lacked identification, the orphanage named her Lee Rena, which when actually pronounced sounds as Ee-rhee-na (i.e. Irena). She, along with the dozens of toddlers at Jacob's Home will spend the entirety of their childhoods parentless and mostly forgotten by society.
This has been by far the hardest and most emotional poem for me to write. It has been in the works for well over a year, only materializing into a coherent poem only this past October.
Dear sweet child, where is your family?
Who is beside you, to love you endlessly
A stranger born in a foreign land
Forgotten, abandoned with nothing in hand.
Dear sweet orphan have you a place to call home?
Have you any loved ones or do you suffer all alone?
Does anyone console you, wipe away your tears ?
Do you have anyone to comfort your fears?
Or on stormy nights, when you awaken to thunder
Must you cry yourself back to restless slumber?
Dear sweet Irena who will pray for your release?
Curse the ones that made you their bargaining piece
A blameless victim of the cruelest tradition
Amidst the loneliest depths of parentless perdition.
MYHL
10/13/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y H Landeweer
Commentary: This poem is dedicated to the orphans at Jacob's Home in Pyongtaek, South Korea, the orphanage where I spent part of my childhood. Because of legislation within the past couple years these children will never be adopted. The justification of this law is based on placing bloodlines ahead of the well being of children. Orphans up to the age of 4 may no longer be adopted unless the family has formally relinquished the child. Children above the age of 4 may no longer be adopted, period. If I had been born at the wrong time, I would have spent 13 years in orphanages rather than being raised, loved and nurtured by my wonderful parents.
The title of this work refers to a little Ukrainian girl who was abandoned by her parents and left at this Korean orphanage. Since she lacked identification, the orphanage named her Lee Rena, which when actually pronounced sounds as Ee-rhee-na (i.e. Irena). She, along with the dozens of toddlers at Jacob's Home will spend the entirety of their childhoods parentless and mostly forgotten by society.
This has been by far the hardest and most emotional poem for me to write. It has been in the works for well over a year, only materializing into a coherent poem only this past October.
September 13, 2005
Shelter From The Storm
Tides beckon the shores for a pernicious season
As meridian light succumbs to blackening swarms
Such cruel howling of Sirens blinds all reason
A prisoner once more of telluric storms
Too pallid to contend, too brittle to confess
Even amidst that Delphic voice calling me to stand
Battered and worn under constant duress
My foundation eroded from pillars to sand
Remorseful waves surge over the barrier reef.
Yet the horizon beyond sighs a susurrant credo
A delicate coral blush radiates the squall's relief
Cerulean eyes splintering apart the deepest ego
Bearing illumination unto this premature night,
Carnal tempest furies rendered completely null
Life proving yet again His providential light
Blessed forever by her, a lowly terrene angel.
MYHL
9/13/05
Commentary: This particular work was inspired by a friend of mine, one who has been a source of spiritual inspiration.
Vocabulary I learned writing this poem: Meridian - noontime; Telluric - earthly, terrestrial; Pallid- weak, pale; Susurrant - whisper-like; Terrene - of the Earth
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
As meridian light succumbs to blackening swarms
Such cruel howling of Sirens blinds all reason
A prisoner once more of telluric storms
Too pallid to contend, too brittle to confess
Even amidst that Delphic voice calling me to stand
Battered and worn under constant duress
My foundation eroded from pillars to sand
Remorseful waves surge over the barrier reef.
Yet the horizon beyond sighs a susurrant credo
A delicate coral blush radiates the squall's relief
Cerulean eyes splintering apart the deepest ego
Bearing illumination unto this premature night,
Carnal tempest furies rendered completely null
Life proving yet again His providential light
Blessed forever by her, a lowly terrene angel.
MYHL
9/13/05
Commentary: This particular work was inspired by a friend of mine, one who has been a source of spiritual inspiration.
Vocabulary I learned writing this poem: Meridian - noontime; Telluric - earthly, terrestrial; Pallid- weak, pale; Susurrant - whisper-like; Terrene - of the Earth
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
March 23, 2005
V. A.
The lines of her face, delicate prints of labor
Once soft features, long past their prime
From her smile spring forth stirrings of felicity
Radiance pouring from the minutest glance
Far too long had I waded in dead seas
Rummaging cesspools expecting gems
Drowning in hypocrisy, smothered by vanity
Debunking forever the bliss of ignorance
Three brief dawns unclogged the drain
Serendipitous and abrupt in every respect
Washed and renewed in a shower of sanity
And by salts revived from an invisible trance
Perhaps our threads will never cross again
Night’s cloak obscures the morn of the morrow
Come what may, with peace or calamity
Patiently awaiting the light of Providence
MYHL
3/23/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
Once soft features, long past their prime
From her smile spring forth stirrings of felicity
Radiance pouring from the minutest glance
Far too long had I waded in dead seas
Rummaging cesspools expecting gems
Drowning in hypocrisy, smothered by vanity
Debunking forever the bliss of ignorance
Three brief dawns unclogged the drain
Serendipitous and abrupt in every respect
Washed and renewed in a shower of sanity
And by salts revived from an invisible trance
Perhaps our threads will never cross again
Night’s cloak obscures the morn of the morrow
Come what may, with peace or calamity
Patiently awaiting the light of Providence
MYHL
3/23/05
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
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