Conspiracy

The Worlds pulse is racing rapidly
Outside of Lifes window, the rain still falls
An umbrella of Earthen trees, now forms
Temporary protection for Mother Natures doorway and halls;

A congregation of city streets gather together
As Lifes tragic traffic continues to move on
Epitaphs of numberless, nameless hero's are written
As Peace is still: An Unsung Song!

What will it take to fix a broken Earth?
When the rain and it's floods continue to flow?
When the angry Towers continue to roar
Where malicious rancor-like flowers-grow;

Abloom in a bed of bitter disdain, sown
Warmongers borne of a: Bush of Deceit
Will it all come tumbling down in the end?
To lay, crushed, 'neath the Cabals dirty feet?

poem by Theodora Onken
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Broken Hearted Twice

The years are weighing me down most beloved
For i am but a shipwreck of a woman, my dear
Clinging to mid-lifes glorified Golden
Yet letting go of agony's bitter tears;
Looking through the windowpane of our life
Yellow fields-they oft' turn to pale green
Whispers from the winds of sweet surrender
Yet mistakes refuse to embellish my dreams;
Oh, oh, my most beloved
Am i now invisible to thine eye?
Do the Angels fear to tread near to me?
Or 'tis our re-union perhaps nigh?
Spheres of half-thought-half-spoken love words
Changed the course of Winters Arrows Of Ice
Tomorrow, oh tomorrow-what shall it bring-my darling?
In loving you-I am broken hearted...twice;

By: Theodora Onken

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Street Person

Oh what a cagey vagrant
Slumming yourself flawlessly
Garbage bags filled to overflow
As you pace the city streets endlessly
Your palace came free of charge
Orange crate and designer cardboard
A woolen nesting blanket inspired
Your dream time into warmth
Foraging for a living
Everyday a new adventure
Setting out in the concrete jungle
To dig for more hidden treasure

(This was written because of my anguish of
The lives of many whose lives have been
Driven to the streets.)

poem by Theodora Onken
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Hidden Regions

Hidden regions of the Soul...
Emulate the shine of starry night...
Lending to a curtsy and bow--
The Light flows ever bright;

Aura's teem with glad filled splendour...
A circlet observed 'round messengers head-
Gossemer sings on delicate wings...
In our words oft' left unsaid;

Glory finds its loving grace-
Hidden in regions of ones Soul...
Guidance comes from Divine Inspiration...
Leading to fulfillment of lifes Godly goal;

Gladness beams itself most brillant...
In hidden regions of Souls Domain...
Directing us ever onward--
Far away from evils bane;

poem by Theodora Onken
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Miasma Of Forces

Like a RagDoll tossed high in the air
All feathers and stuffing floating 'round
Only one way up
No safe way to come down!
No ladders-no safety net
Only plaid-only lace
The chosen poison decreed
Wore blood on its face!
So sudden-so sudden
Copious burgandy to bright red
Hemorage of a Lifes River
Came calling upon this RagDolls bed!
Nothing left for remembrance
No sewing needles-no eyes
Unable to mend even her red tresses
No fond goodbyes!
Just a RagDoll tossed way up
One too many times to even be fair
By a core of village idiots
Who disappeared into thin air!

poem by Theodora Onken
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Forged In Love

Challenge my heart, most beloved
Dare, i call unto you?
For desperate passion has overtaken me
Loving you with a heart forever true;
Dressed in obvious attire
Sporting an attitude hardly tame
In the company of an astute audience
I have aimed to attain: Lifes Eternal Flame;
Love labors on oft' endlessly
Perfection of its true nature sublime
But what i have found in your amazing eyes
I am sure could carry me throughout time;
Wrapped in your endearing arms, beloved
'Tis all that i ever hoped for
I bear witness to this our pure magic
Lost inyour eyes-no one could love you more;

By, Theodora Onken

December 31,2011

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Meditation

In my reservoir of thoughts
Solitary to silent reflection
In the Autumn of spent forms
I loose myself in chosen selection;
Late blooming as the Mum
Yet lost, in atachments and fears
Truly 'being' as in a field of like flowers
In harmony and empathy i embrace the years;
Spoken and unspoken thoughts
Visible and invisible all the same
Allusions and actuality emerges
Yet kindling for lifes ever burning flame;
My gaze 'tis oft' times too inner directed
More needful of the outer things
Hopeful for the simultaneous of both
Courting the final reflection that my psyche brings;
Conclusions come after some time
Raising my inner: 'Aware'
Life 'tis but a mere vapor of tests
A rollercoaster of meaningful tidings on the wings of a prayer;

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Its Later Than You Think

In the long ebon of night-
Where God oft' wakes our ears-
With His voice-'front and center'-
Conveying verity so clear we hear;

Broken 'tis the silence of our repose-
A curve ball shakes our comforter to the ground-
Spirals of inevitable verity of our own mortality-
Comes- knowing that we are not infinity bound;

'Tis later than you think- He harkens-
The final phase of your lifetime 'tis nigh-
Even with all mortal aid that has been given unto you-
In your throat-comes realities formidable sigh;

An absolute paralysis comes o'er you...
Free'ed are the tides of tears you now cry-
Realizing the clock has already ticked most of lifes seconds off-
Realizing that your time here 'tis, indeed, nigh! ;

poem by Theodora Onken
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What Real Friendship Is

Friendship sails 'cross all kinds of seas-
The calm, the stirred, the galed...
Serene, difficult and outright stormy...
But true friendship-it never fails;

You come together open-hearted-
With profound respect and devotion-
Tied together with a common thread-
That can sustain any waves of the ocean;

The mark of true friendship stands...
Even when ones skies turn grey-
It is not just partial to sunny fair weather...!
Or absolute attendence come what may! ;

For oft' times we get side tracked...
From our own personal tragedies or worse...
Leaving us sometimes absent but never forgetting...
Our true friends in lifes most gifted verse;

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Coming to Terms

Peeking through the yellowed drape
A ray of hope shines in.

Outside the world awaits
While inside, my mind, it spins.

Listening to the Nature
The Pride of the Bumble Bee
Or the Aristocrat Of The Song Bird
Truly, it does entice me.

SO long,
Locked inside
This prison of Doom and Gloom

Where feelings of physical pain
And mental misery
Fill up my wailing room.

A room where too many tears are shed

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Thank You

Rescued from gutters of days of past-
I breathe in the fresh essence you bring...
Lingering within our blue sky veiled world-
Filled to overflow with the rebirth of new Spring-

Tiptoeing myself through the daffodils-
Embracing myself in green tendrils enhanced by loam-
Surreal views of cascading waterfalls...
Aware that i am at last finally home-

Ever near in the sun kissed emerald vale-
You continue to cleanse and warm my frail soul-
I with clear visual green eyes-
No longer in need of braile-i am out of my dark hole...

Enchanted and reborn 'neath-
The Willow Tree-
Baptised anew in your forgiving arms-
Forever your presence embraces me-
A shelter you are from lifes horrendous storms...

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Here Today

Our ride
Through life
Is short
At best
Choices made
Do count
Moments lived
Savored
Memories made
Golden
Embraced in
The gilded
Frames of time
Honored vestiges
Of Era's of
Yesterday
And today
That are too
Soon gone
Reflections play

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The Whole Of It

Life 'tis but a vapor-
Heart and mind-as a star-
Body-a living dust-
Soul-energy from afar-
Complex in continuity-
A gathering of all parts-
Giving us our own idenity-
Ruled always by ones own heart-

By, Theodora Onken

December 17,2011

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Stems

Empty hours accumalate -
And take over;
Nothing ventured and definately-
Nothing gained...
Critical minute blown away in --
Idle contemplation...
While 'Rules Of Thumb' are busy twiddling;
While the clocks tic has now regained its tock...
And happier days are -
Even further away;
At one time-our life-
Was like a Merry-Go-Round...
Circlling-the proverbial 'Brass Ring';
Brazen to haughty...
Where nothing -
Or no one could-
Disturb our daily lives-
Which were-
Lived just under the-
Guise of permissable;

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Living Off Of Memories

I am living off of memories--
Just wasting my time....
The hours pass into days...
And there is no reason nor rhyme;

Blue skies have gone missing-
Replaced by dark grey--
The Sun has taken its leave---
And the night has replaced day;

Springtime no longer exists-
All the blossoms are withered and dry--
Summer times brillance...
For me has just died;

I am living of of memories--
Just wasting my time...
The hours pass into days
There is no reason nor rhyme;

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Far And Away

Far and away
In Gaia's dew you hide
Far and away
In ethereal mist you glide
Far and away
Through regions of natures rim
Far and away
Until the western ocean grows dim
Far and away
You travel through villages of yore
Far and away
Deep into the essence core
Far and away
'Til Hermes has lived life to full
Far and away
Distance tries it's magnetic pull...

poem by Theodora Onken
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The Chanteuse

The chanteuse chased melodies-
Her voice rubbed elbows -
With a guitar with broken frets-
In-sync with the Clubs Bass-
She sang-
She sang to the guitar-
Raising her voice to higher notes-
Of Life:
Lived-
Long-
Loudly she resonated-
Lyrically harmonic-
Listening for an off key-
Lending an ear to-
Lungs in full breath-A
Libretto in the making...

poem by Theodora Onken
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Treasure N Time

O' treasure of my heart simply linger...
Where sweet memories have gone astray
For, i need desperately to see your image-
Through these lost neurons of yesterday;

Your absence leaves such an abyss
Nothing to grasp in this void called living
I am dying a thousand little deaths daily...
No return for the love i am giving;

Treasure of my heart remind me
How to be ever so humble in my need
Splash your image 'cross my psyche
I shall follow where ever you lead;

I have missed you ever so deeply...
And my hours are filled with unending fears-
The clock of life 'tis ticking rapidly
The second hand 'tis spent with my tears;

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Do You Wanna Dance?

Can you feel it? Can you sense it?
You know the rhythm
Sinking into your Dancing Feet?
Spiriting you up on the dance floor 'of life'
Moving your entire body, to the living beat -

Can you hear those Rocking Drums Beating?
And the Electric from Jimi's guitar?
Isn't it, simply amazing -
Middle-aged-and here we are, dancin' stars?

It's in our bodies and our souls -
From our Analytical Heads to our Movin' Feet
Its the 'Music of our Lifetime'
As we pass our days, to its beat -

Perhaps, to that of a different drummer -
But that is, what makes each of us, unique -
The Music, it spirits each of our lives along -
Dance, dance, dancing, are Our Musical Feet!

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~Angel~

...Where beauty flies...
Wisdom cries
...Near the runes...
Upon the ancient tomb's
...Where in days of yore...
All knew the germanic lore
...Of the village and it's gore...
Long ago and before
...But beauty she still flies...
Upon Angel Wings
...Her wisdom cries...
For all of the victims lives
...And the weak that did not survive...
She lives to tell her story this day
...But flies with wings to make her way...
And upon a harp she plays her sorrows songs
...About a Tale of So Much Wrong...
One wrong does not deserve one right
...One right does not deserve one wrong...
Beauty she still flies upon Wisdom's wings

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poem by Theodora Onken
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