Linda

POETRY IS WHAT THE SOULS OF THE ANCIENTS SPEAK TO THOSE STILL SEEKING WHAT IS MOST BEAUTIFUL IN THE WORLD. FROM: LINDA

Thursday, April 25, 2024

 

Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi of Ariel Chart for publishing my poems in the April issue.







The Glass Collector


 

Who will now bear the standards,

help cease the cannons roar?

 

John, as part of a valorous chain, 

closely linked to his brothers,

not afraid to look down at crater’s edge.

 

Thunder rushed headlong,

and the sky loomed bright.

Rivers burned

as they struggled to repel

sinister, destructive effects.

They poured their sweat into the oceans

to replenish shrinking seas.

 

Thousands of hands bore arms in supplication,

blessed the dark that protected them,

penetrated the hostility for our sake.

 

He braved all this

believing  there would be

better windows in the new houses,

and robins would build nests in new trees,

as birds of day,

bird of night,

birds of dawn.

 

Their oaths and ordeals 

translated into the greatest generation.

 

John, our hometown hero.

To him centuries of debt owed,

calendars of veneration with purpose due.

 

We can repay him,

in part,

by helping all the glass 

that garrisons a serene world   

not be shattered.
















Lies Made Holy

 

 

The shining ones

live among light beams,

make a splendid connection,

keep faith

inside the confines of rainbows.

Once strengthened

they attest to miracles.

 

They carry the swords of dreams,

and the chasteness of prophecy    

from where they came

through centuries of fight.. 

 

There’s much debate

as to whether or not

the doctrines of

great fellowship 

and goodness 

exists only within church walls.

 

Neither heaven nor earth

will convince you

how many gods

you can fit within any philosophy

if you don’t believe in deities.



 



Thank you to Dave from Winamop Poetry for publishing my poetry in the April issue.

http://winamop.com/li2400.htm

























































Thursday, April 11, 2024

 


A huge thank you to editor David O'Nan for publishing

5 of my poems in Fevers Of The Mind. 

https://feversofthemind.com/2024/04/11/a-fevers-of-the-mind-poetry-showcase-quick-10-interview-with-linda-imbler/









Cool Engine


Chessboard hair
Lollipop lips

High-grade voice
Bass strum shake

Quintet spark-plug
Sleek chassis

Exotic gauge
Engine purr

A Car no one
Ever wanted to trade.










The Heat of Sound

outspoken intent
builds inside the calm radio

quiet secrets
become loud and heavy

the solicitation of chords
exposes an aural plundering of the senses

ecstacy and pathos
both fleeting on a strong wind
heard as the heat of sound.









New Experience


Hip,
with a crack of rhythm and blues,
asking have we ever been.
Hands trained by gods,
to command spangled stars.
Our new experience.

Spoken voice so soft,
lyrics sung bold as love,
of cherry houses burning,
and watchtowers.
Our new experience.

Head and neck
of psychedelic scarves,
paisley weave drapes thin,
hats that wear like gypsies,
a man stylish and kind.
Our new experience.

The voodoo lady
weeps with Joe,
we cry with Mary
beside the fire,
after Jimi excuses himself
to kiss the sky.
His new experience.










Destiny Solved


To learn from each day.
Yet still understand,
a well done past;
valuing the why
of that ascendancy.


Upon one winter rose,
there lies the heart of my hope,
fashioned as a holy shroud,
guarding an overflow of tranquility.

I’ll lay forth no rest for mortal seeking,
nor for the fancy of reason.

The canon is now set.
My destiny laid forth and solved.
My soul’s welfare forever in all texts.

I have arrived.









Savior

You’re in possession of a name
that cures hearts
that had fallen like the breaking of slender twigs,
helping the once downhearted soul seem as
the only happy person in the world.

You have inspired minstrels to sing poems,
prophetic gospels that tell of
the magic of you
and your gallery of masterpieces,
all those that speak to me.