I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..
One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.
“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her.
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.
June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett
This is the English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode.
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.
The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.
She showed me the clouds
and how to walk on the ninth one. A dreamer.
In the absoluteness of her mind, no barriers
exist within existence
as if her battles have
been won. I think she craves to fly,
past those clouds---another possibility
to make possible, a challenge
to challenge. Or dream about.
She probably thinks that when I complain
I cannot see the clouds,
the way she did when things got rough
in life. Of course, I beg to differ.
She dreams. I live. I don't
keep my eyes on clouds all day
as if there is nothing else to see
to make me understand the world better.
I suppose I'll rest one day, exhausted
by the what-ifs and whys, while Mama smiles
and points upward.
I sat down to study the Netherlands tried to gather all the scoop
Entering every contest cause I'm new to Poetry Soup
I read all the poetry masters to grow I must surely invest
What I've discovered in almost no time is why Soup poets are the best
Zerbst wrote an anthem with some amazing poetic twist
Made me wish I was from Freisland this sprawling sealand really exist
Dr. Ram wrote a history thesis he even quotes the great Shakespeare
The Netherlands in an Italian sonnet another masterpiece was here
Cornish obviously did his homework in couplet form he holds command
Displays the heart and pride of the people when I read his words I want to stand
Andrea's the Soup contest master so you knew she'd draw her pen
With perfection her ode to Freisland, Ms. Dietrich has done it once again
I could go on with the works on Netherlands a shout out to John, Ralph, and Tim
A descriptive write by Huberta van Akkeren, these odes will make sweet Elly grin
So I learned all about the Netherlands another ode wasn't needed from me
To be proud of this majestic country... May she ever be beautiful and free!
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest Name: Your ode to 'my' Netherlands and/or 'my' Friesland
*Happy Birthday Elle!
The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
( Based on a true incident captured in my Camera )
I was in a mood to sing, and
The Peacock was in a mood to dance,
My singing came, while watching the beauty and
The beauty started unfolding its wings and charms,
As if the Peacock was listening the songs,
I was singing, silently in my mind.
Oh, what a joy it was to feel and share,
Those wonderful moments
I spent with that beautiful bird,
Who kept dancing and dancing,
Till the song continued in my mind silently.
You and I may not be dancing or living forever, O, bird,
But the image, which you have engraved on my mind and
The rhythms of that joy and pleasure,
Which you have left,
Would continue to generate always,
The music of silence and beauty in every mind.
Kanpur India 28th December 2011
NOTE:IMP. NOTE: The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
The Photo Poem cum Song is also on my Music Channel
"RavindraKK1" on U Tube. or you simply use this URL
For my Videos Songs on My U Tube just write on Google "RavindraKK1
and go on U Tube Channel - RavindraKK1
Out on the porch for a little recess
From life's daily chores, listen to raindrops
Pitter-patter, musical sounds request
From gentle breeze, which stirs windchimes non-stop
Nature's orchestra plays as in hammock relaxed lay
A novel to read or just nap away
Afternoon quietly, what more pleasure
Maybe do something risque
Meet with lover, love away rainy day
In deep caresses our love we'll measure
The flame will burn higher as our desire
Rises with each kiss and loving caress
As the rain's rhythm sets mood, love's red fire
Glows as love to each other we confess
Romancing to rain's music dance and sway
Raindrops, roses, love's desire only glows
Lover so glad you could be companion to
Maybe do something risque
As on the love seat, inflamed we repose
Not needing love potion our love to renew
Lover so glad that I met you today
Out on porch listening to rain's rhythm
Stirring music in my soul fears allay
Perfectly matched love's biorhythm
There are now no fears or life's dismay
Love come take me away to higher realm
Come, stay, don't just wait life's rainy day to
Maybe do something risque
Hold, caress, don't wait 'til life overwhelms
Love come stay please don't ever bid adieu
Contest: An Ode To Small Comfort On a Rainy Afternoon
1. My ex-girlfriend tried to impress me when
She told me that she is "Fasting"! And I knew
That she was true because, I saw just how
Fast she ate that basket of chicken.......
2. The next time that she told me that she was "Fasting"
It was three (03) double meat Whoppers! And I have never
Seen three (03) double meat Whoppers go so quicK......
3. My ex-girlfriend was so upset! She explained that when
She was young that she could bounce a dime
Off of her butt. Only now, when she bounce the same dime
It only flops!
So, I looked on the bright side and told her that now she can
Bounce a quarter on her belly button and it only drops!
4. The last time that I saw her, she was "Fasting" on a
box of cookies.
* And boy, those (03) box's of cookies sure went fast!
Explanation: That is none sence and no one got fat in the making of this pun!
4. I just hate it when my ex-girlfriend call's me! Usually I keep my
cell phone on vibrate and in my front pocket. My EX-friend
Know's this. She also, know's that I have a bladder problem! Every time
she blow's up my phone it make's me pee!
I know that I hate it, but she give's me such a warm feeling and I take
what I can get!
5. My ex-girlfriend is so stupid that she can't ever give me a piece of
her mind! She has to get an substitute..... Ha! Ha! Ha! He, He, He!
6.My ex-girlfriend, She alway's cut me short!........ She wanted to give
me a piece of her mind, buy, she didn't have enough brain cell's left! Ha! Ha!
Feel the Joke! Uh!
1. When you "Pass Gas" and you know you did........
And no-body heard it........ Is it proper to wait for someone
to smell it first, before you say, excuse me..........
Is it really too late....... That is what my girlfriend doe's!
* I would just blame it on a friend!
Moments To Share:
My ex-girl friend and I were discussing a poem that I wrote! She told
me that it was an perfect oxymoron.......
I told her that she was just a moron!
Words' To Live by:
I was trying to explaine my mis-giving's to my EX-girlfriend......
I told her that the problem was, not that I really love you, because
I don't! The problem is that I just can't get you out of my mind!
your belief system is the major indication
of what you can accomplish with positive validation
if you can see it, you can achieve
if you can perceive it, you can believe it
underachievers are always underestimating themselves
non-achievers are always looking for a handout and the most help
average achievers do only what is usually just required
but overachievers strive to realize their heart's desire
in The Bible Mark 6:5-6 are two of the saddest scriptures to me
it tells of the time when Jesus went to His birth place
to spread His Father's ministry
it is somewhat troubling to me when He could find there no relief
because the Nazarenes were in a mind set of utter unbelief
even though He had worked many miracles
in most every town he had ventured to
the citizens of Nazareth were unwilling to give Him His proper due
a showdown in Nazareth, Jesus trying to evangelize God's word
but they saw Him only as the carpenter's son attempting to do the absurd
the power of God can only manifest in an arena of positivity
it can not gown nor gravitate in an atmosphere of negativity
Jesus was rendered powerless, the passion in Him had subsided
because the unbelieving Nazarenes remained unyielding
and completely one-sided
there is a significant amount of unbelief
in many church congregations
where some are just sayers of the Word
and don't believe in the power of the consecration
it takes one drop of negativity
to yield a whole crop of unbelieveability
understand that the Living God can't work in anyone's life
if they are in a state of mind clouded by negativity and strife
there is nothing that can't be accomplished if you know this in your heart
that God can work miracles just believe in His powers from the start
for God can move mountains, He can make a river divide
His powers are omnipotent, just keep a positive attitude in mind
don't undermine God's purpose for you life, allow Him some control
don't underestimate what He can do for you, if you surrender to Him your soul
always look for the victory, don't settle for defeat or loss
use the power of your belief, the power of the blood, the crown and the cross
if you believe God can open doors
what more could you ask for
just believe with God that you can do it
just trust in Him and let Him prove it
just believe in the power that is Jesus Christ
and imagine what you can accomplish
if you just let Him work in your life
I am woman,
I am Woman,
I am Woman,
I am Woman,
Fear me because I am:
Pretty, sassy, smart, independent!
Fear me because these things
Are a danger mix and explosive combination
Fear me because one day
You'll have to answer to me.
Fear me because soon you'll look up
For advice and I'll be the face there.
Fear me because to you
Women should have no power.
Fear me because to me
I will have more power than you.
I am a woman,
I am a Woman!
The ladder backed pecker,
like a prison uniform.
Caught-up in exposing
the truth beneath the bark,
of the poet's apple tree.
We prefer ourself in spring;
with tiny little flowers,
and the fruit of possibility.
Yet, if not for the woodpecker,
tapping holes into poems,
we might not ever see
the flesh and blood of raw meat.
I will climb that ladder back,
escape pre-decreed standards.
Tap into that syrupy mixture
and suck-out truth from hard wood.
Yes, lessons from a jail bird.
A pest in the Avian Kingdom.
Wisdom from the little rebel,
beat-out of a tree.
Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable
The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable
(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo
FIRE IS COMING!
FIRE IS COMING!
GET PREPARED,THE BRIDE GROOM IS COMING
THE BRIDE GROOM IS COMING
FIRE IS COMING!
THE TRUMPET SHALL SOUND
GOD CHOSE THE LIGHT'S HE HAVE FOUND
THOSE WHO ENDURED THIS LIFE SHALL BE CROWNED
FOR THE DISOBEDIENT WILL BE LEFT BEHIND
TAKEN CAPTIVE BY THE ENEMIES MIND
ALTHOUGH,FEW SHALL REMAIN
HIS MERCY STILL REMAINS THE SAME
A REMNANT STRONG ENOUGH TO ENDURE
SATAN'S ATTACK OF HIS FILTHY LUCRE
Once, when my soul cried out in mournful pain;
I believed the Spirit, with me, wept.
When I felt that life was all in vain,
He lifted me from the drowning depth.
Now when flowing tears upon me fall,
and all seems hopeless in this life;
Does He hear my constant wailing call,
when I feel grief’s merciless cutting knife?
Where is my God when I need Him so,
when my soul is wounded and torn apart?
The One Who promised to never forsake nor leave,
does He see me here with bleeding heart?
Like the lonesome howling coyote, my soul does cry
in vain, it seems for peaceful relief.
And as the unfolding years go by,
will I forever be haunted with relentless grief?
Will there be answers which I will someday find?
Will my feet ever be back on the ground?
Unanswered questions riddle my weary mind,
as I feel and see the misery all around.
I was one of faith and considered strong,
but now am weak and a pitiful creature.
What I have become, I have pondered long;
and realize my need of the One True Teacher.
Once again, my howling, mournful wail cries out;
“Oh, God, my Master, hear my plea.
We need Your help, without one single doubt.
We beg for strength to set all pain free...”
Her eyes showed me a way,
Her unique smile let my tears go away,
Her Beautiful face made me to say,
Is this Love, or what???
Started to have feeling of love,
Started to behave nicely and different,
Started to smile when there was no reason to smile,
Still, Is this Love, or what??
Tried to approach her, but felt belittled, lowly, shy,
Tried to ask her for date, but felt afraid, scared, shocked,
Tried to express my love, felt would be rejected, hurt, unheard,
Well still, Is this love, or what?
I can fix anything, why not this thing,
I can talk to any girl, why not this girl,
I can really convince anyone, why not this one,
Came before many girl, why not this girl.
Do please not tell me its just nothing,
Do tell me how to do something about this thing...Love,
Do tell me anything about this thing…Love,
Will there be rejection or appreciation??????????
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that reaches for the highest of heights.
I use the clouds as a helpful step to rest my feet as I reach.
Stretching my arms up high, trying to grasp a hold of the stars.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that struggles through the thistles and thorns.
Reaching forward, eyes tearing up as I bleed for the light that will soon be mine.
I use the light's rays as motivational beams, urging me forward.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one who fights through the ridicule and puns.
I fly through the maze of the bombardment of insults and put downs, straight to my prize.
I use the tormenting words as encouragement to later prove them wrong.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that searches for truth.
I wander through a world of lies and tricksters as they try to make me lose focus.
Discovering traps and evading paths of lies by evaluating them with logic and reason.
With every lie evaded, I inch closer to the truth.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am that one, the one who dreams.
For without dreams I am nothing, but a human with no purpose.
And when my dreams are reached, the scars I will wear proudly.
For the struggles I had faced will stand as validation to how much my dreams are worth.
LOVE AND DEATH
Love is a thing which perches in soul
and never dies for those who parts
forever and dies reluctantly for all
those who deal it with dull verve hence finally retards.
Its intensity can never be matched
by any way, any sense or any being
the loveliness of soul which initially hatches
in eyes and finally lead to an undying thing.
The iniciated feeling kisses the eye and lead
the body to shiver and form an never ending joy
joy which increases with senses and feed
the soul with luxury of peerless eyes and soothing joy.
When eyes fall on thine god, a material being
a wave travel from eyes to soul
and leave us shocked and lead us to drowse in feeling
of the cosmic one more beauteous, pretty then all.
A word from her soft coloured lips is treat
for your soul and finally try to speak
to that elf, an everlasting meet
in your brain did relive forever and make thee week.
But when you have conversed enough and all
secrets did revealed, the enthusiasm, the joy, the love
starts to retard and mighty love starts to fall
and fall all thy passions, thy deity thine happy dove.
Your drowsing in happy feeling, thine everlasting thing
decrease by degrees, you being unknown
the thing which use to shiver thine ere being
your love dwindles while thine body had grown.
But after ages when ye become pallid and calm
its assistance ye need or when you lay in despair
in this material world, it seems the only balm
which provide thee love and care.
A never ending charm an ethereal soul
which lift the mortal man from dying and and taking birth
and make life and death traveling journey for all
except those in whose nature there is love's dearth.
The shadows know the scent of cloves,
as Nyx devolves from sleep's crossroad,
the night-owls croak to domes above,
her ode the stars turns to abode.
Her firmness strings the scene's stillness,
her laughter waves in hung ether,
small hours' submit her thoughts' steepness,
advancing 'mid green heather.
The night birds watch - with eyes of amber
night wraiths descend from stardome flare,
upon a sky-drome meander
that ghostly travelers time-share.
Brilliant's the moon in ventured glory,
above shapes lays and daunting wraiths,
her eminence surpassed souls' faith,
to hark the travelers' lone story.
And kind advanced to lands of blooms,
as night conveyed upon each breath,
she confers grand the kiss of death,
with fates to weave on lethal looms.
On darkened growth she shines dismal,
In Stygian reign she rules - abysmal,
enchanted souls shall dwell in void,
with Acheron's old paths destroyed.
© G.V. 10-03-2012, All Rights Reserved
Nyx = Night
In the small town of Campbell Missouri,
A young girl with lovely brown locks
Sits, having been told she might never walk again
As all aknowledge this belief in town,
A fear swept around,
And many children were kept down
But in the spirit of this child,
Desire to walk snuck over her fears
Perhaps she wished to surprise-
Perhaps she could not stand
The judgmental eyes-but all the same,
She picked herself up, smiled,
And sauntered around the room
Happiness pervaded the house
As the family friend, delighted,
Sang merrily the song,
“Have You Ever Seen a Dream Walking?”
Today, at California Mission Inn,
The same girl, now a woman
Walks her glorious walk
With confidence and grace
She is 91 years old and strong
Her eyes lighting up as she recalls
She hums the dreamy tune
As I jot down miracles
Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu.
Dedicated to Leonora
A unique and lovely
damsel from the heavens.
Love you so much.
What they've done to Gary is just plain scary. Global elites shut him up.Of their wicked ways, be wary. It is all in all,everything that they do,to try and scare me, to try and scare you. If they get their way,we'll all be shakin' in our shoes. If they can make us fear enough,they think they'll never lose. For fear is their currency of delight,presses working over-time, ever in the night. Where their dark secrets lurk,hiding from the light. With it they purchase hearts and minds, ultimately souls as their grand prize, To offer up to lucifer, in a scheme of grand demise. So take heart my friend and fear naught,but the Lord. This is wisdom's beginning, God's word, shield and sword. Of this one thing be ever so aware, that those who hold God's spirit, they can not scare or make them slaves to the prince of the power of the air. We, who stand with Gary, will remain strong and bold. Always doing what is right, not necessarily what we are told. It is our one path to victory and bringing freedom home. Home, where our love dwells. Home. Dear, sweet home.
Immortal language of
Soul of my soul
Breath of my breath
Heart of my heart
Mind of my mind,
Close to your enchanting bosom
Let me forever be,
For not even for a moment
Able am I to live
Without your inspiring
12 January 2013
In a dark room music plays with a slow beat,
the neon lights make you white panties and bra look like a street.
You move your body slowly and so sexy to the music,
while i look at you threw the darkness of the room set.
A big silver gun on my hip and a mountain of coke on the table,
and nothing can distract me from the beauty i see dancing so stable.
Your every move hypnotizes me,
I think I am going blind cause i am beginning not to see.
I look at your hair how it waves there so perfectly,
your legs move just like i want them to, so delicately.
You touch your breasts and you hold your but,
you give me that look in your eyes like your not wanting to stop.
You unbutton your bra and cover your breasts with your palms,
the music dies down a little and calms.
You walk up to me and than music begins to play,
that's when you start moving your body on top of me and asking me to stay.
You kiss my ear and rub my legs,
your breast rub against my inner pains.
You feel me harder than a rock,
than you decide to grind my cock.
Your body moves so sexy and slowly to the music that i played,
my body is shaking from all the excitement that is payed.
You go in for the big finish, and i tell you to get back up,
cause a lady like you should do all that kind of crap.
Be with me, be with a BOSS,
Who cares if the people i killed ever took a loss.
Dedicated to all the woman of the world.
PS: You are not trash, you are not ......... you are precious jewels. Stay that way ladies. I love you all.
The were the three Magi with mantels and beards, traveling
on strong camels as far as Bethlehem and having
seen a wondrous star, they began their long journey
by bringing precious gifts, but they warned Joseph and Mary
of Herod's malicious intent...so they fled to Egypt
on a donkey that never complain of a sore hip!
They believed in the Savior as Herod himself full of pride,
and being very wise, they never returned
to tell him what kind of child they had found!
They brought their gifts and knelt at a child
whose fate as foretold was to die for us all,
and he gladly accepted them hearing His Father's call!
Not having heard from the Wise Men who had lied to Him,
Herod sent his soldiers to kill all children under three: screams terrorized Bethlehem;
no, they weren't moved by their mother's painful cry
and shedding their innocent blood they revenged that lie!
O mothers of Bethlehem, Jesus knew that they were slaughtered because of Him!
O mothers of Bethlehem, you wept and moaned as they bled as a sacrificial lamb!
They believed in the Savior from what they had read,
and wanted to see for themselves the glorious event that Daniel spoken of:
the brightest star shining over Bethlehem as angels sang,
announcing Christ's birth in a small town groping on a hill of citrus and clove!
Written on December 16, 2012
And if their should ever be
A LOVE end everlasting
Then, I wish with all my
Heart, to spend
My life with you'
If their should ever be
An end ever lasting end
Then there is one question?
Where doe's my love
Began with you?
You are not a Diamond
You are my Triangle shaped
The " ' " is not necessary, so you make the inferance..be the " Back Seat Poet".
In Memory Of Mrs. Vera Latney)
Stop, all dat looking
Cause I ain't in that
I'm in Mount Zion making
a joyful sound
Don't act like you aine know
I was heaven-bound
Up here, "raising the roof';
justa jumping around
With a halo over My head, I
wear like a crown
So none of that crying the tears
of SMOKEY'S clown
Since I, a new joy in Life have found
the land was valued at $240, where they built "the little church on the hill"
established by a group of abolitionists and free blacks for they knew that was God's will
they named it Berean Baptist and its congregation was integrated
but after only a short time the membership separated
the church continued to prosper for the members were godly inspired
they would not let anything keep them down not even those two fires
the congregation would continue to rebuild for their faith could not be pricked
they got smart and moved two blocks over and erect a church made out of bricks
it was a little chapel yet membership would continue on the up swing
the church needed more room, so they then added on two wings
from Dr. Brown to Drs. Matthews, Eldridge and the Rev. Dr. James
anointed men of God who helped Berean establish a good name
from Rev. Roman and now Dr. Griffith with their powerful evangelistic ministries
and after 157 years Berean is a great church with a lasting and living legacy
and with the Lord's continued blessings, His mercy and His grace
The Historic Berean Baptist Church will always be the place
where anyone and everyone can come to get godly inspiration
for Berean is the church that will set on the path to salvation
a portrait is a picture or a likeness of an object, person or place
a rendering, a representation of something in all of its grace
but a portrait of a Pastor is more than just a facade
it's not an image of what man thinks but a reflection of God
people come with their own agendas about what a Pastor should portray
but it's not his clothes nor his cars it's the message from God he conveys
a Pastor should be pictured as a faithful speaker who reveals the truth in his speech
an under shephard of our Lord Christ and it's the Gospel that he'll preach
a Pastor should be drawn as a mentor to his members and circumspect in his behavior
a prayer partner in conjunction with the Holy Spirit and Jesus our Savior
a Pastor should be an image of one who comforts all in their times of need
a teacher of the Gospel who in his flock tries to plant God's righteous seeds
a delineation of an obedient servant leader who stands firmly on God's Holy word
and he should not be the subject of gossip nor the pettiness of this world
a portrait of a Pastor should be a comment on his spiritual calling
an anointed man whom God will use to catch us when we've fallen
a portrait of a Pastor should be an exhibit of compassion, wisdom and respect
a display of leadership, kindness, humility and intellect
it should be a picture of a potter who tries to mold us into godly shape
a silhouette of a counselor who doesn't judge but advises when we make mistakes
a portrait of a Pastor should be a reflection of the image of our Lord Christ
a man who will always allow the Holy Spirit of God guide and rule his life
KG, the "Big Ticket"
as you are fondly called
every game you bring it
playing so fierce and so bold..
From high school sensation
to NBA superstar
an MVP recognition
and a 10-time All-Star..
Filling up the stats
and lighting up the scoreboard
with each board, dime, swipe, swat,
and every hoop that you score..
The talent, the leadership,
the aura, the appeal,
the whole package, you have it
plus all those endorsement deals..
An outstanding contributor
on and off the court
a citizenship award winner
the community you support..
One of the greatest ever
but still without a ring
soon you'll get what you deserve
and be hailed champion, a king..
Lustrous black hangs over pale skin
Gleaming green under deities sight
Wheeling toes transfer lanolin
Watchers skill shadows this neophyte
Who's damning dexterity draws in
The old woman watching weaving
Whispering advice to halt spokes
But fibrous boasts offend mountain
War horns sound an electric warning
Arachne's eyes roll with faster strokes
Athena whets sharp javelin
Circling pressure spills lymphocyte
An emerald eyed grimalkin
Issuing challenge instead of a fight
To save face in front of kin
Anxiously she begins fabricating
Charring wood, wisping smoke
Arachne remembers old sin
Clean fingers start recording
Twenty one episodes to provoke
Woven lust impregnates linen
Details capture birthright
Divine lashes flicker, flecking venin
Mortal legs levitate, threads snap and choke
Defiant victory from the coffin
Punished and reborn with aconite
To appease her guilt for relaxed reign
Arachne is transformed and hanging
Always spinning; a masterstroke
< oh ode old ode please come to me
illuminate frowned smiles
rejuvenate twinkle in eye
your task steady fast my old ode
your victory renowned thus crowned
soothing as childs teething bisquit
your demeanor captivating
Irony thick, that your drifting brings my dreams.
Your shallow breath contradicts my labored respiration.
In slumber you inspire. In sleep your made to tease.
Yearning for your not embrace, I revel in this bed.
To touch would ruin pleasure, small distance is sublime.
Symmetry defined, in lines subtle yet profound.
To look so long, your pulse captivated my stare.
Ironic that you're sleeping, yet the dream is mine alone.
Satisfaction in my hunger. Sated, in naught but your vision.
She was a devoted ole gal always at her best
so many days I cried hanging off her chest
down to the lake in the hot summertime
we would cool her off and swing on a vine
Every morning at five am here came Belle, now my friend
and again at six pm there Belle was ready to work again
years passed and Belle became a part of our family
we worked, we played, and we milked twice a day
Half my life she was one of my dear friends
I greeted her in summer with warm sun burnt skin
and in winter I spent my time warming them
when Belle died I can't say things were ever the same again
Belle had become more than a cow in a pen, who gave us milk
she became a babysitter, a circus act, part of the swim team, for the neighborhood
but most of all Belle had become a lonely teen's dear friend
a couple had a good son whom they sent off to grad school
his goal to become a doctor as he was smart and nobody's fool
now on his own he decided to no longer attend Sunday service
he felt that God had no need for his personal worship
some people tend to feel that God doesn't require their praise
the question of a debt of gratitude in their minds has never been raised
but what people fail to realize or even comprehend
is that it was God who gave life to them
Creator of the universe and every living being
Creator of everything we're touching, hearing and seeing
Dr. Albert Einstein once made a very telling remark
that seeing how the human eye works is proof there's a God
when viewing this wonderful world and all the magnificence it beholds
one can clearly see the hand of God that has uniquely unfold
a sunrise, a sunset or a rainbow after a spring shower
a solar eclipse, a child being born are all proof of God's great power
He created man and it was He who gave us the breath of life
He gave us His love and grace and His son as a sacrifice
things have happened in our lives of which we're not even aware
times when God has shielded us from the evil that's out there
He's sent His mighty angels to watch over our backs
He's sent His heavenly warriors to stop any and all attacks
an eternal debt of gratitude and praise to God we owe
but we're not the only beings who are in the know
the angels in heaven praise His holy name
the devil in hell also bows down to Him in shame
created in His image His likeness we now bear
we're His beloved children for whom He tenderly cares
He makes Himself known to us every morning, noon and night
He is our source, our all in all, our strength and our light
an eternal debt of praise from us towards God is due
and as you read this poem I hope you get a clue
God doesn't need anything from us He's complete on His own
It's us who needs God as we can't do it alone
God is great, God is sovereign, He is the King of kings
He's all powerful, He's all mighty and controls everything
there is nothing in this universe that is not under His command
and no matter what we think He holds the whole world in His hands
and today that young man who thought that God didn't need his praise
is now a doctor and disciple of Christ whose hands are forever raised
an eternal debt of praise from us the Lord God is due
because if it wasn't for the Lord God there would be no me nor a you
Just breathe in the clarity
Clarity of the whole
Whole or negativity
Negativity eating your soul
Head for tomorrow
Tomorrow always waits
Waits for enlightenment
Enlightenment heals mistakes
You are where you’ve put yourself
Your “SELF” now reminds you of shame
Shame brought on by acting out thoughts
Thoughts a conscious shouldn't retain
Give yourself an apology
An Apology you deserve to have
Have some faith in your timing
Timing bleeds wisdom in man
Bless your self and live righteous
Righteous spirits rise above
Above all if you are kind
Kind souls conquer hate with love
Poetry brings torment to a halt
Halt all your never-ending thoughts
Thoughts are forbidden evil hiding
Hiding light inside divine spots
So please write down your own deep thoughts
Thoughts penned will conquer your inside trap
Trap your life up in your cell all alone
Alone you shall stay smelling your crap~
please don't be offended by the last line~
I felt it was necessary to get my point across~
Looking at your sexy curves turns me on like never before,
When I see you show tour self to me I get excited and want to explore you like never before.
Caressing your booty and holding you by your hips is like my dream,
entering inside you and pleasuring you while watching you scream.
When you show your self to me from behind I get way to excited,
Just burying myself in between your love would be like being inspired.
I want to feel your bodies warmth on my body,
I want to feel your breasts push up against my back and make me horny.
Touch me with your tiny little hands and make men ask for more,
I don't want to lose this feeling I want to feel your core.
Now show me what you can do and show me what else you got,
I want to see some more and maybe even a little touch.
There was once upon a time,
Unexpectedly, a very small dime.
He did not do much of anything,
Apart from gazing.
He just stared longingly at the sky,
Counting the clouds that drifted by.
Dear old Dime, not very bright,
He did not shine, not a ray of light.
Dark and rusty,
Old and dirty.
Everyone did not care,
Though they could use him and buy a bear.
They did not want to touch,
This old thing of such.
They did not want to feel.
That sick disgusting bill.
He was old, rusty and dim,
But he hated the way man treated him.
There is nothing in this world that i can possibly think of or think of doing to tell you how much I love you.
You are so sweet to me, i can't almost stand it wen you call me handsome and cute, cause it sounds so sweet to me.
If there is anything in this world that you can think of for me to prove my love to you, just name it. I will be all over that in a flash.
Even though we didn't get to see each other for very long cause of my dumb ass, that was still what i wanted to see today really bad. Looking into your BEAUTIFUL green eyes today was like looking into Gods heaven.
The only thing that is missing is your touch on my skin. I probably would not be able to hold it in me and take a hold of you by your waist and press you against me, and than the smell of your hair would turn me on to the BREAKING POINT.
I would start by kissing down your neck and curress your neck with my tong.
Than while curressing your body, I would start slipping my hands under your shirt, and under your bra and upon your perfect titties.
Than i would start pulling your bra and shirt off at the same time and begin kissing your titties. Kiss them all the way down to your belly button and back up to your face.
When i would lift your upon my hips i would carry you to the bed and start kissing you back down your titties and your ribs and your belly button and than an inch lower passed your belly button just to get you a little more wet and wanting.
To Be Continued.
Set for Contest!
Oh how can one capture
Your beauty on paper
Without you evaporating
Off as it is your nature
The stars are your jewels
The moon is your crest
As if blessed
Your silence is serenity
That whisper to my thoughts
An overwhelming beauty
That ties my stomach up in knots
How humble I am sound
A beauty incomparable
With a radiance so profound
Your absence is unbearable
Conforms to the original,
in whose image we are made
Bequeaths holy curiosity;
crystallized in the human consciousness,
spawning the inescapable question:
who am I?
why am I here?
why are things as they are?
A passage to edifying discoveries;
a transport to purpose;
lagrangian to eternity;
yet incomprehensible zone
awaiting our attainment
Imagination, it is;
the attribute of the creator,
the fount from whence,
humanity and reality sprung
The cradle for human advancement,
the wind beneath our wings;
in the continuous journey,
of discovery — tiny footprints,
on the infinite expanse of time;
silhouette horizons —
sketches of scapes of infinity
Imagination; imparted on us —
instrument to soar above obstacles;
pedestals to ascension,
in the necessity of trials —
the price for divine profit,
purposefully placed on our way;
the test to ensure our growth and graduation,
in our accent to unity with divinity
twenty-two years as the Pastor of that Historic Little Church on the Hill
twenty-two years of leadership as you continue to submit to God's will
you're don't rest on your laurels as you've just attained another Master's Degree
from the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University
you recently received a blessing from God that has given you tremendous joy
you are now officially a grandfather and hallelujah it's a boy
you preach to us the living gospel the eternal words of Christ
and you relate it to us in a way that has impacted our lives
we thank you for these twenty-two years of delivering the word of God
we thank you for these twenty-two years that you've kept us in your heart
you've held our hands, you anointed us with oil
and you listened to our troubles
you prayed for us, you prayed with us
and gave us guidance in the midst of our struggles
we love you Pastor Griffinfor your honest and humble approach to life
we love you and the First Family for all that you've sacrificed
twenty-two years and still counting since the day you were appointed
Congradulations and keep making good things happen
for you are truly anointed
It's been awhile since I've had a taste.
A smorgasboard of artistic drug laced,
with passion, purpose,skill, and will,
beautiful with poetic appeal.
It's been awhile since my soul has taken this trip,
aboard these vehicles, our mothership,
that take ahold, of my mind and soul
letting me know, whose got control,
moving me, at the reigns,
of how I feel,
making me laugh, one moment,
another driving me to tears,
all the while I'm standing, or sitting still.
For you I am so thrilled,
to concieve, believe, and feel.
Your mere mental images that you paint,
across my mental landscape,
leaving me feeling faint.
But then like a fix,
I yearn for more,
to even this score.
To the creator,
I give thanks,
for creating you all,
Poets, my brothers and sisters,
in literal signs,
giving this poetic junkie,
your shared words of love,
of the 'ummptenth'
It was time for the New York Residential Division contract to be renewed
but the Realty Advisory Board desired the members to get screwed
that wanted the members to give some of their benefits back
but 32BJ leadership stayed focus and on track
so on and on and on the bargaining talks did go
but the union refused to have any give backs nor accept the word no
we don't bend over, we don't back up and we sure as hell don't back down
our President Michael Fishman and his team stood their ground
it came down to the wire and neither side would concede or give in
until we had a rally with 10,000 plus members and called on our political friends
and at the midnight hour the new agreement went into effect
32BJ's leadership got the members exactly what they'd expect
they kept all 10 of their contractual sick days
and no percentage of their healthcare do they have to pay
they will get a raise in all four of the contract's years
and there will be no hiring system on a level that is two-tiered
VICTORY for 32BJ the union that never backs down
VICTORY for the New York Residential Division
HOW SWEET THE SOUND
...a darling dear of time is when the tick-tock, of the clock stops, during a dancing wind chimes rendition of just how invisible things move me, to write, darling dear a rhyme,
the peak of a mountain top experiencing,
O' darling dear
a love letter,
just one of those things that
of the everlasting.
Coffee in a cup, makes a cup of coffee;
just as an aroma from within, makes the air,
smell of flowers in the spring
...a sweet thing, like sugar cane is to the tasting,
and the tasting is to stirring the dream,
making flavored coffee
a drink in the morning.
As a young man I was first introduced to the music of THE BEATLES by my father
I would endlessly play his LP records
Eventually memorizing the lyrics to almost all THE BEATLES songs
As my interest grew my father encouraged me furthermore
By assisting me in buying my first guitar
I then started to collect films books and memorabilia on the FAB FOUR
John was my favorite
His wit Charm Musicianship he was an all around creative being he was the man
I was struck by his ability to be so imaginative and his strength to be unique
The music he created with and without THE BEATLES
I feel I will always hold close to my spirit
As I walk through the times of my life
I will always have the music
To get me Through
A soliloquy comes over me as a testament to this great rock.
The names and dates and markings from generations ago unlock,
those that past this way on foot and ox and horse,
and those that never made it here; to chisel and endorse.
Silent now are the graves that sit beside this place,
and the thousands that pass by and give respect to unknown names.
A rot-iron fence sit's where some say they lay
the children that may have died here; is also where they played.
Stone scratched history, tar and paint,
the rolling Sweetwater accentuates,
this giant rock where thousands now have trod,
left with only the name,
of Independence Rock.
THE TABLE MOUNTAINS
To what shall I compare thee
Oh, awesome sprawling masterpiece of nature?
Is it the Sinai of Mosaic Israel
Or the pyramid of Egypt?
Welcome to the end of the world, or is it the beginning?
Where mountains wear crown of splendor
Adorned with shimmering brightness of early morn sun
When heaven’s tip kisses mountain top
With lips of nature in her most pristine, undiluted self
With runaway innocence beyond the earth reproach and corruption
Graceful, bold and gigantically imposing
Its royal robe perfectly cut of
Meadows and greenery tended by the dew of the dawn
Come view the mountains in the cape
Come, and go, cleansed and cured of all impurities
Trapped in its sharp, cold and warm embrace
Come, see the Sinai
In the west of the black south
Oh! Is it burning smoke or icy cold steam
That engages the cloudy sky at the mountain top?
Or is it the blazing sun, icy steam and thickly fog in trinitary unison?
A trio in a race of space
Wow! Its dawn at sunrise
The mount stirs and time stand still
sun submerged, the steamy, smoky fogs lifted
Revealing a golden morn like the first day of creation
Come see another wonder of the world in South Africa
In the fortress expanse of Cape Town
Cape Town, here I am!
Enthralled, entranced, I am endeared!!!
Happiness is an emotion that i don't show very often,
The Evil inside kills me everyday not to show it coming.
Joy, where did you go? I can't find you anymore, where are you hiding?
Please come back to me, i want to feel you when ever i want it siding.
The smell of you next to me is so peaceful,
But i cant see your magical touch cause its i am not too cheerful.
Slap me or do what ever you want to me,
Crawl inside me and make me feel you freely.
I sat and wonder how the world has become,
For we’re all sinners in this world,
But the only thing that set us apart from this rust dust we breathe…
It is the way we rise up through this dust filled with many dirt,
For we are all sinner in this world, in this place of so much hate,
Keep on climbing these hills of holiness,
For you might nev’r know god might be impressed?
In this world of so many wonders,
In this world of so many wonderful tears,
In this world of so many sorrows,
Keep on climbing these painful hills,
For you might nev’r know how beautiful the deck might be after the pain?
Keep on climbing and climbing these hills,
For you might nev’r see beyond the deck of this pain if you’re not trying?
In this hopeless world a mother has to die a child has to wear an image of an old,
In this hopeless world, the tomb became a mother to a child,
In this hopeless world love slips away,
For we’re all travelers in this world, invaders, intruders,
In this world of so many sorrows,
Keep on climbing and climbing these painful mountain valleys,
For you might end up feeling comfortable to stumble through the deck of this pain,
This hopeless world took my mother,
This hopeless world took my child,
And this hopeless world the critic has become my friend,
Hopeless world, hopeless world…
I’ve been here many times before,
But every time I sit in front of this world,
I often wonder why there is no door of a smile, peace and happiness,
I’ve been here many times before,
Standing and longing to see the shadows become colorless,
And every piece of breath i draw, become an art to decorate my tomb,
I’ve been here many times before standing across this hopeless world,
Watching and watching as good days become a dawn in the hell,
And every piece of breath I drew through the face of this world,
Become a history to read in tears,
And every moment that passes away,
Become a samber to a dancer filled with pain,
In this hopeless world, the love is no more,
Only stitches that art our hearts to keep us connected with our lord,
End of poem 3
He was renowned for farming
ploughing lands as large as atlantic
but his harvests he keeps beyond the sea
beyond the sea all he got
Down here, his roof leaks
his town roads untared
they make use of his wealth
to paint their town more white
he thinks his wealth is safe
but the value they use
promising him security and secrecy
to shut their mouth from his people
his pots occupied
by cockroach and rats
as had been aboandoned by his wife
his children grow everyday
developing big belly and head
He goes back to use ibeleju as lamp
but he claims to be rich
his children goes fishing to pay their fees
the school fees he has refused to pay
they built a school for their wards
and beg them to look inside papers
nobody pays a penny
those are the people beyond the sea
his wealth is intact
but had been used
times without number for their anuual budget
they beyond the seas
Worms leak his intestine
and his offsprings from six to two
he took their looks to the people
the people beyond the sea
they gave him a name "Malaria"
Malaria took them all
contented he came
carring no less for his kwashiokor wards
His bicycle like buried iron
yet he appears before his kinsmen
to speak in language that tingles
they smirk at him
though the gods let him live
his expliots and wealth
managed and utilized by the people
the people beyond the sea
he claims to be learned
while they have brain washed him
he trusted them
and left our heritage
the gods forbide
our black heritage
that our fathers died to protect
like our brotherly love
that forbade greed
he forgot our maxim
that of Unison
him that our fathers gave the "Ofor"
the Ofor that represents power
power to protect our interest
our black interest
the gods bear us witness
witness of our unquenched suffering
starving in front of plenty
plenty at the so called bank
banks beyond the sea banks
the name for their civilised theft
theft because they use the value
the value of your wealth
to reinforce themselve
the Ofor has fallen
from his hands
the gods has departed from him
but he will not believe
our chambers now lagoons
lagoons from the light shawers
our tables now canoes
and soup spoons paddle
mosquitoes now our pets
nursing our children
our working age amended
starting from 6 to sleep
our heads now bald
not from age
but from fetching water
water from the eden
Risen from the blues of gloom,
The indicator of glorious boom.
Made of sterner stuff and
Seen only by eyes divined.
From the East appeared once,
All focus attracted of the wise ones.
The way rigorous and distant,
Unimaginable for weak stance.
The willing heart of flesh
Unveils the power afresh.
That which must be done,
Needs not be allowed be gone,
All the way followed by men adorned.
Can it be true of one and of others?
That a star once seen and
Followed by men,
Can again be seen and
Followed by other men.
Once it shines and is spotted,
Providence will convey men of honour,
Who, duty-bound, must pay homage.
For every generation there is,
And strive as it does,
Darkness hides him not.
Dark-hearted men merge,
Weapons at heart ready to strike.
But he shines forth with vigour,
Bestriding the globe like a new
The Leading Star!
Silence is the ultimate
In the praises' of the Lord
It seeps' of servility
With remote authentic'
But with Servealty
Fore He hath given us
For so long and so fully
Well, I commend thee
I give to him all the praise
And the dominion
Over man fore it is his privy
Never the less
I shall give unto him all of my
Abidance in being
Hail to all that which is His
In-order that I may be
Fore I am at your feet
Usher in a new day;
endless with possibilities
Usher in a new beginning;
endless in possibilities
Yarn not the yawn,
for it is dawn;
the dawn of a new era
as we commemorate the 10th anniversary of a day we'll always remember
over three thousand lives taken on the eleventh day of September
but for the grace of God it might have been me
to have been one of those lives taken away in the midst of that tragedy
life is a series of sequences and events that take place
and I know that as a child of Christ I'm living under His grace
at the time I had a job that was located in tower seven
but on that day I was in Brooklyn or I might have died and gone to heaven
safe in the borough of Kings working at the primary election polls
far away from the events that on New York took such a toll
the nation and the world were shook to their foundations
that anyone would dare to strike at the very heart of our nation
two airliners purposely driven into the World Trade Center Twin Towers
an attack on American soil in the early morning hours
and as I sit in church today on our annual Homecoming day
I reflect on the fact that many will never come home again
mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, co-workers, family and friends
and while I sit in this anointed pew
the awesomeness of the glory of God in me has been renewed
a day to remember as we share the communion of our Lord Christ
a day to also remember a day that forever changed our lives
WHEN I WAS 10 WE MOVED
I MET THE NEIGHBOR GIRL IRENE
SHE HAD A GREAT SENSE OF HUMOR
SHE WAS STRONG AND INDEPENDENT
QUALITIES ID COME TO APPRECIATE
WE ENTERTAINED EACH OTHER FOR MANY YEARS AND I LEARNED THE MOST ABOUT LIFE FROM
HER.HER HOUSE ALWAYS SMELLED OF SMOKE FROM THE WOOD HEAT,OR IT WOULD SMELL OF FRESH BAKED
GOODIES SHE OFTEN MADE FOR HER GUESTS.IRENE HAD LONG WHITE CASCADING HAIR SHE WOULD WIND
UP INTO A BUN.IRENE WAS MY CHUM AND MENTOR SHE WAS 78 WHEN WE MOVED THERE.HER DEAR SPIRIT
LIVED ON UNTIL 99 YEARS HAD PASSED
Do You Yahoo!?
Love and romance wrapped them
She could hear the beating of his heart,
Memories cascaded through their minds
It seems like old times again;
Staring at the fiery horizon-
Mesmerized by the magnificent scene
Looking into his dark and mysterious eyes
A moments of silence followed-
Love was on the air.
The fire exists...
Yet still, the feelings are mutual
Time and distance-
Dare not to extinguish,engulfed them.
Music played in their hearts,
It was going to be FOREVER.
Before sunrise the firmament,
silent and luminous
kept all its stars under guard,
and none would go astray,
because the voice of God they obey;
and their names, unknown to us,
are spoken by Him with kindness
and carried on the currents
of a mighty wind,
which are moved by a command!
I express my enthusiasm,
to elevate my lyrics to the heights
of the shimmering luminaries;
this praise emerges from a deep gratefulness...
and unlikely any other emotion it conveys,
mine is never repressed by feeling,
it goes beyond my understanding
to why it was created with such a magnificence...
for that specific purpose humans aren't aware of,
but doesn't it attest to a Supreme Intelligence?
After sunset the perfect firmament
glows with light to overwhelm me
with more awe and less controversy,
and why should there be doubts
to obliterate every evidence from my thought;
when faith is evanescent, all thoughts
become empty and improvident...
so that the Creator is shredded of glory!
My excitement is induced by contemplation,
dissenting the theory of evolution;
how can distortion render conviction...
if all it does is cause more division?
This assumption doesn't tolerate belief,
it is utterly senseless and full of hypocrisy,
conceiving the Creation as a myth;
are we subdued by its plausibility?
I know of a man. A man full of gratitude and humility for all he is and all he has
He has an eternal fault: an obsession to make a difference; to make an impact
To sow where he care not to reap
And give where, he does not get back
To solve a problem not of his making
Standing as beacon of hope in the face of upmost despair
And flow freely like an oasis in the silent desert
Shining like a million stars in the steep darkness
I know of the young-man who
Drank richly of some foreigners’ fount of knowledge
Years ago, way back at an ancient city of the Yorubas
An unsure future was secured, se t on path of greatness
Filled with such wholesome inspiration
He caught a glimpse of tomorrow vision
And before him was set a life mission
Which he pursued with uncommon passion
To start a national social redemption
He with other berthed the ship of change and silent revolution
In business as in charity
At a Lagos unusual port, in Surulere, at Obele community
He with some inspired men and women with pen and white chalk
Walked rather than talk the talk
Breaking the jinx of decades of failure and annual underachievement
Setting loose and dreaming
Another generation of Nigerian graduates
Inspiring many to take up arms of service, destroying
reign of woes of secondary education among the tomorrow leaders
Selflessly in the spirit of giving back
That success baton once received a generation earlier
Now with duty being passed to the future runners
To stop the wanton waste
Of the so called wasted generation
Enlivening J. F. Kennedy age long mantra
‘Not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for her’
If the Americans has Peace Corps reaching the corners of the world
The man and co. decided
Nigerians can have Volunteers Corps reaching the end of Africa
Imbued with the power of one, driven by a unity of one team
Volunteer Corps was brought forth to life
By men and women, grandly inspired
Ahead of the pack, dangling the magic wand of change
With deftly touch and humblest of heart
Is the man called Ademola Aladekomo
He is a volunteer; A volunteer of volunteers.
It is symphonic
It is rhythmic
It tells a story,
of love and life,
of pleasure and pain,
of joy and sadness;
a story of defeat and triumph
It is the invisible book
of the human experience
It has the power,
to move you,
to make you yearn for more,
of its delightfully painful,
It can deliver you;
it can be your cry of deliverance
It is so mysterious;
it could only be celestial
It straddles the emotions
quietly packing a punch,
but pulls it, only to suck you in
When it hits,
it leaves no bruises
It knocks you out,
into the habitation of joy;
a relief from heaviness
It is transcendent;
a passport and transport,
to the esoteric zone;
the inner longing of the soul,
warping the time in its wake,
at such a pace,
that leaves you transported
It blows in,
from beyond the firmament,
riding the undulating,
invisible crests of space
It is copious in joyfulness,
filling the soulful emptiness;
an aid to cope with the sorrowfulness
reaching deep into the soul,
soothing even the savage beast
It is infectious, but does no harm
It is delightfully musing;
rousing a deep satisfaction,
yet, in it, lies a deeper longing,
for something or somewhere,
very present, yet very distant
Seemingly desiring to reconnect,
to something or somewhere,
enchanting, elusive, and disconnected
Shhh! Can you hear it? It is music! It is Jazz!
What religion has created through the ages
is a false gospel with much incredibility;
a helpless Christ on that cross...
instead of a resurrected One
ascending to His glory;
He's still mocked and alone!
Faith is stronger than religion,
it trascends all souls
in search of truth and hope;
and it can't be taught by words alone!
Faith was the stronghold
of prophets and saints!
Let it become our fortress
in the days of weakness,
and fervently pray with confidence
that no harm will come from others!
The sacrificial altar needs no lamb,
the ultimate sacrifice was made...
the reconciliation between Man and God,
and a Mediator to atone every sin committed;
many still believe in a harsh punishment...
by demons who dwell in Hell!
Let's be like David who exalted Jehova God always,
and proclaimed His greatness for all ages!
Let's fear no man, but trust in the God of Moses...
who parts our waters in troubled times,
and lets us walk safely to our shore;
let's be as faithful as they were!
...for Robert Frost
Simple words, and simply said,
uttered with such grace, the poet's token;
nature's fables for the heart and soul
so eloquently spoken. For animals
and flowers humanity and love are
manifest, echoing through his verses,
renderings of an art put to the test.
He speaks of lives in union, shared joys
and sorrows all to each their part;
and of how to toil alone: "As all must be",
he said within his heart, "whether they work
together or apart;" of things macabre
and ghostly, conceived to send a shiver
up your spine; of toil and tribulation out in
the pasture, 'mid scrub oak and pine.
A man of simple living,
his poems and their meaning shall attest;
a lyricist par excellence,
may songbirds serenade him at his rest.
She's constantly a dreamer,
Fantasy is where she lives,
Reality is non existant to her,
If only she could see.
She only cares about superficial things,
Popularity is her sport,
Boyfriends are the cheerleaders,
If only she could see.
Her mind is put to waste,
A head as empty as a flower pot,
Education is lost on her,
If only she could see.
She makes fun of the "weirdos",
She cannot stand the "geeks",
But those "geeks" are worth knowing,
If only she could see.
The world is 3-D,
It has depth underneath,
There is beauty under the surface,
If only she could see.
Beauty is not just skin deep,
It runss all the way through,
It's not just looks that matter,
It's how you think and see.
Desire make me flee to England's shore,
to Stafford where Shakespeare wrote
sonnets by candlelight and moonbeams;
let me open the tall, wooden front door,
to see him in that corner weaving a thought,
swiftly turning them into theatrical schemes!
Ah, he weeps for a past tragedy he witnessed,
making those tears flow on clean sheets
that leave him heartbroken and drenched in tears!
Oh, those sad moments seem to disappear
as he dreams of unforgotten faces he loved...
and many say he didn't feel joy but fear!
Shakespeare's spirit is not a common phantom whose voice can't
be heard everywhere it rumbles...listen attentively, don't fret!
Glance at his pensive face, read the inspirational words of any play
he's writing on paper for all to ponder in their own, persuasive way!
I am on a journey
I have been for quite awhile
I know not how much further I must go
But I know the destination;
it is to be enriched by every life I meet on the way
and to enrich every life that grace mine on the way
So I must stop,
to smell every rose,
to cheer every heart
Though the way may be fraught
with fog and tempest,
I have no fear and I am not lost
I still remember the way home
and I am fond of home
It is a place of eternal life
It is a house of endless love,
a house of peace,
a house of joy
In my home,
there's always laughter,
hearts never break,
smiles never fade,
spirit and flesh never frail
fear is never around,
friends never leave,
loved ones never die,
no sad farewells there
I will go home,
when my journey comes to its end
To my father’s house will I go
To the house of endless love, peace, and joy,
will I return
Into the waiting loving arms of my father;
into the warm happy embrace of friends and loved ones,
who had been on the journey and gone home before me,
eagerly awaiting my return
To my home, to my father’s house,
of endless love, peace, and joy,
will I return
The day of my return, I know not,
but when it comes, I will know,
for my father will call me home,
When he calls, I will hear
I will answer his call
I will run to my father
I will be home
(Dedicated to Merl Butler)
I got my idealism Follies
From our Mass Media that
seeks to show the ultra-modern
extravagances of today's super hip society
Too much Politics that is overtly fused
into my dimming Brain
Not interested in fighting the tide
There is nowhere to turn
Nor a sanctuary for myself to hide away
Dreams were simpler in my day
Let the Hair hange down and
say THE HELL WITH YOU
to the wiser but Elder generation in our times
It is not so easy now
A few years back
I have lost the angst
The youthful rage
This gap is becoming ever quite small
Turn to the children,
let them have it for now
The older we become
it is inevitably for certain
where to eventually travel
Beyond this frame of sphere
To believe in our culture's turmultuous lyrics
Put down the parents so we could party all the way
Jesus is a gentle man and a woman
They are not,however..an untidy rock band,looking for the gold
When or wherever I compose my poetry
Thoughts will linger on the meaning meant for us all
Shocking realization to notice
We are adults now
in a world where the controls are getting slightly out of hand
The time is now to straighten out this quandry
Clean up our room
Get rid of our dirty laundry
Little girl (Little boy), so small and insecure, whose world has crumbled in, and when it
rains it pours.
Little girl (Little boy), you were never able to bloom, so your world seems so dark, and
full of gloom.
Little girl (Little boy), you've been so hurt and abused, always reaching out for help,
but it always seems you're refused.
Little girl (Little boy), it's all right... Please cry, scream and shout, but don't give
up the fight.
Little girl (Little boy), we're here to help you now. You are ready to live, and we're
going to show you how.
Little girl (Little boy), you should be so proud! You have come out of your shell and have
mingled with the crowd.
Little girl (Little boy), you're doing great, even though there are a lot of unresolved
issues on your plate.
Little girl (Little boy), it's okay, because we're all here to help you get through it,
day by day.
Little girl (Little boy), you are starting to grow, and soon it will be your time to go.
Little girl (Little boy), do not fear, because we'll still always be here.
Little girl (Little boy), you are no more...
Beautiful woman (Handsome man) now, so confident and strong, ready to go begin a new
journey, with our love and support, to guide you along.
She protruded from a background well-versed in mythology
Riddled in metaphors
Steeped in false parameters
Yet gifted in iambic pentametre
She coughed a bloodied bee onto her lap
and let the sparks fly.
She married a beekeeper in two syllables
And bit her tongue
Whilst the lines absolved her dichotomy of life
She tripped over her song's rhyme
She whistled a white-hole onto the page
And dropped herself inside.
Her jar will always be half-empty, with complete thoughts.
Now,shall we sing your song
In oases round the earth
Where,glowing orbs in shady halls
Rolling hips, painted lips
Announce with distanced faith
"We are the world..."
No,it won't be your crown,rugged priest
Though princes snicker at your snickers
And hallowed monks on hand,
Swear at your loosened cuffs
Your nimbus 'round shaggy locks
The misty tears that would not drop
To wet the rough droughty plain
Drinking pain in place of rain
Sweet choir at our festive Mass
Droning birds swirling dust
Bringing only,so much grain
But plenty more in hope and love
To a world of cheerless seasons
From saviours with kindly reasons
Leading them a Boom town saint
In jeans, with guitar and song
God bless you, Bob Geldof!
I startled you as you lay dreaming
With burnished scales and body gleaming
Upon an ochre sunny, sandy bank
Contrasting with your elongated flank
You rose with quick-silvery motion
Without sound or needless commotion
And spread wide your captivating hood
While in awe gazing, mesmerized I stood
You flicked your fork tongue at me testing
Simultaneously threatening and protesting
Swaying to your primeval ancient dance
As I stood rooted in admiring transfixed trance
You tasted once again my human essence
While I in turn took in your luminescence
And then with an imperceptible low hiss
You vanished, leaving me in humbled bliss
a flag flown at half mast
a salute remembered that was the last
a star placed behind a glass
a quiet gathering to bury a lad
a moment of silence for those that past
the respect and honor for those
that died in the blast
a bugle playing Taps for what could not be
a flag folded and then passed
then the soldier lowered into the ground
feels that glory from all a round
his body lies at rest
but his spirit receives that which is best
to know that by his countrymen he was blessed
to a soldier that died in combat that is best
Desire make me flee to England's shore,
to Stafford where Shakespeare wrote
sonnets by candlelight and moonbeams...
Let me open the tall front door,
to see him in that corner weaving a thought,
swiftly turning them into theatrical schemes!
Ah, he weeps for a past tragedy he witnessed,
making those tears flow on clean sheets
that leave him heartbroken and drenched in tears!
Oh, those sad moments seem to disappear
as he dreams of unforgotten faces he loved...
and many say he didn't feel joy but fear!
Shakespeare's spirit is not a phantom whose voice can't
be heard everywhere it roams...listen, don't fret!
Try to glance at his pensive face, read the words of that play
he's writing on paper for all to ponder in a persuasive way!
poet in flight
writing for a free airspace
keeping the seatbelt on
closing both of his eyes
to let the poem fly for itself
Every breath that i whisper
a single movement of the pen upon paper
giving takeoff from the runway of ideas and rhymes
no one would know who this poet truly be
he uses a 1000 different names to keep him silent and unknown
During this duration of poetic flight
He will write a sonnet or a narrative some night
to describe the feeling of floating away with the air
there aren't any typos nor mistakes to make the reader even care
Look around you at the space between the pen and the wind
Solly! it is so enticing and enchanted to be a Poet's Romantic
picturing the trees with the alphabet
coloring the sagebrush with just the right felt-tip pen
You,the reader,will notice for a time
the perfect serenity of this fable sublime
There aren't any Dirty words or imagery,my pet
to hover forever,near the 747 jumbo jet
Creating the space
Tracing with each Finger
The Flight of the Poet
whose ode to the old stanza will forevermore linger
I came upon a Thanksgiving night
With a GOBBLE of presents in my hand
Even though it is not yet SANTA
November 23 is fine to celebrate both at one time
The gift of Sharing is indeed mine to hand nice
Before we say grace and have Turkey & rice
Mother is here,cooking up the sauce
Father,nearly ready..to cut that delicious Meat
The World upon a Thanksgiving Meal
Wandering but Wondering..When will the
homeless receive their fair share,a deal
They are strangers yet are part of our family
To cherish as honest and bright
Come into our home on this Thanksgiving delight
As the dawn of a new day,
revealed by the bright countenance
of the rising sun,
made bare by the parting heavenly blanket
As the certainty of the new day, made naked,
by the fleeting timid terrestrial curtain of night
So let the sapphire desire to do good,
to lift the spirit of others, be revealed,
in our eternal treasury
Let it shine through,
dispelling the mist of apathy;
the tunnel vision of self-absorption
(Dedicated to Dan Williams)
I Love You.
I love you with my heart,I love you with my soul,
I love you with my spirit,because you make me whole.
I love you with my body,I love you with my mind,
I love you with every part of me,it cannot be defined.
I trust you with my wants,I trust you with my needs,
I trust you to support me,with all my thoughts and deeds.
I've never felt so happy,I've never felt complete,
You meet me in my darkest hours,you are so true and sweet.
There never are enough words,to share with you my love,
I only know it's sent to you,from my being,and especially God above.
By Sharon .L .Leonard.23rd,October,2007.
Seventy years ago in Princeton, West Virginia on a cold December third night
an earthly angel was born unto us and her name was Audrey Wright
a blessed child of God, a devoted disciple of Christ
and we've gathered here this evening to celebrate her life
With her husband Joe she has had over forty years of wedded joy
David, Dominick and Bobby Jr. are their 3 handsome boys
a member of the Historic Berean Baptist Church for a score of years
a deacon, a playwright, a woman of substance whom we all love and hold so dear
a truly talented individual who has a funny and dramatic flair with the pen
she writes the type of plays that makes you renew your faith in God all over again
I consider myself doubly blessed to have her as a sister and friend in Christ
and to everyone she has ever met in someway she has touched their life
she had the nerve to inform me that she was seventy years young
but as I look upon her lovely face, she doesn't look a day over forty-one
excellence, eloquence and elegance are the traits she humbly conveys
and I'm extremely honored to write this tribute for her seventieth birthday
I love you and congratulations to you, my dear friend Audrey Wright
and may the Lord Our God continue to bless you and keep you always in His sight
O that grief in stone alone would tell
That passage from life's cross to hell
For having been born we begin the process
Of our unbecoming, a very subtle knell
Tolled on beads of faith in counter spell
All of death's exacting claim and duress.
But this Christ cast down by the evil it
The thing he did make subduing spirit
To take its flight from flesh, and leave the leather
Gnarled and twisted, so death inhabit
There God in convulsions truths admit
Is more than just change, or state of weather
Walk me through the crowd again, fled
From the picture, hear the hollow dread,
The dismal cry before existential emptiness
The brittle bonds of broken Godhead
The loneliness for sin that stood my stead
It tells upon even stone in lifeless grimace
How clever in work each chisel caught there
Languid form, and pity in the stare-less stare
The naked moment of our point of death foretold
The diligence against the strain of all fear
The sombre moment lurid on the dismal air
God is one with man, so man may grace the fold.
But in this deposition with self imposed I see
More than just a comment on self history
I see the co-opted glory of an alien race
The transposition of a marginal identity
The subjugation of faith to human mastery
Birthed and centered in death's callous place.
Go on you worshipers of idols in griefs of stone
Martyr yourselves for adulation of the throne
Art is memory that only tells in part our intent
The cross' silent purpose by sage sins condone
The longing to remove God and take his zone
Of time and space for preferred devilment.
I before no pieta bow, let the mad man die alone
Man came from the earth and O the worth unknown
To hold his God not as dead thing, but life summed
Through faith and gift of grace, a worthiness of throne
After the marble is cut, look out for the single stone
Toppling kingdoms in its roll as bright Jesus come.
That language you speak,
the one you didn’t have to learn from anyone,
the very original, very human, yet very celestial one
The one you spoke to herald your arrival,
as you made entrance, from the celestial to the terrestrial,
into the gyrating life-sustaining starry metropolis,
amidst the cacophony of others, strange and different
That language you spoke,
in response, as you discovered,
that the strange looking beings all around you,
in your new and strange planet, speak it too,
and as you explored the strange and funny artwork,
on their mystical canvases,
every time they spoke your language,
any time they spoke another,
that you did not understand
In smiling, laughing, weeping,
we speak a common language
Have you noticed?
They all speak it too;
all our kin, from every corner,
of our spinning starry metropolis,
waltzing between one companion on the left, bright but shy
and the other on the right, dusty but flamboyant
It is a language so simple,
anyone and everyone speak it and understand it,
yet so complex, it is encompassing;
defying lexical boundaries,
even terrestrial boundaries
Straddling the spectrum of emotions;
even in the laughter expressing joy,
the heart is sorrowful
It is the only language natural to us
We were made with it
It is simple but sufficient,
to convey the emotions,
that bound our consciousness
It is the language of humanity;
the language of pleasure, joy, happiness, and sorrow
Anywhere we come from,
every which way we come,
we speak the same language;
we smile, we laugh, we weep;
in joy and in sorrow
The language reveals,
our common and celestial origin;
our eternal bond,
When spoken, we understand what is said,
we know what is meant,
it is laughter, expressing joy,
it is weeping, expressing sorrow;
the outer limits, spanning our consciousness
So universal is it, it is mystical;
as mystical as our very existence
For the abundance of mirth,
gives birth to tears of joy,
yet joy awaits in tears,
the passing of sorrowful tears
Laughter and weeping,
each awaits the other,
but only to relieve each other
and to bestow us reprieve
It is the universal language,
spoken and understood,
by you, me, and all our kin,
It is the same, regardless of place and position
It is eternal, beyond terrestrial
It is celestial, it is universal
my feet have been washed with your dirty hands,
all your golden chariots have been crushed in foreign lands,
the prince and the pauper were at one time the same,
is deception your road to glory and to fame,
no it is merely the path to your downfall,
made change for a dollar but it's done too late to call
// once you were the light of my soul,
but in your presence no longer does it glow,
for I have seen truly by my own sight,
and your love for another I will not fight,//
hold me close and whisper in my ear,
I promise you I cannot hear,
blasting my way out of this bind,
it's clear you're not the faithful kind,
got a thrill to chase,
and your just a little out of place,
running uphill to get down,
and still the treasure cannot be found
eventually the well rums dry,
answers run out no reason why,
I have served your sentence,
for you there is no repentance,
out to sea I let the current carry me,
as long as you remain on ashore I am free
through his mom he has come to know me
and my disability.I couldn't get off the toilet in his house as there were no hand rails
I asked his mom if the young man 20,would be uncomfortable giving me a pull up
she said if I was ok with it he would be too.Nick came to the door and flexed his muscles
to pull this large woman up,i saw such pride in his moms eyes.my heart sank having to
have to ask him for the help.As my visit continued with his mom in the coffee shop.Nick
must have called 20 times to ask if I needed him.now my eyes filled with pride to know
such a fine young man when so much is wrong with the youth today.God bless America,God
Pastor, you're an under shepherd who has been entrusted to do God's work
you're never overbearing nor quick tempered nor do you have any quirks
you hold firmly to the trustworthy message that the Son of Man did convey
you're a spirit-filled righteous man, a disciple and teacher of God's ways
you teach and preach the sound doctrine that is the Holy Lord's
you're temperate and respectful with a Christ-like love for all in accord
you're self-assured and humble and your sermons are from the heart
you've given us insightful examples of how to live spiritually smart
you've told us it might be our attitudes and we probably need a makeover
you've been to us a living example in how to let God take over
you're an under shepherd, one of the Lord's earthly rep
you're an under shepherd, a follower in His Son's steps
you're an under shepherd, an agent of the living Christ
you're our under shepherd, Pastor Griffin
and we are blessed to have you in our lives
His legendary name will be immortalized
in America's books of history,
and his bravery and heroism
always remembered by us:
the biggest heart driven
by an immense generosity!
When rushed into the thick smoke,
his searching eyes shone
even brighter than the clear morning;
the danger ahead
could not keep him
from saving people trapped in strairways,
people who wailed and waited
in the tower's darkness!
He left behind an indelible legacy,
to let all see what he truly loved;
to inspire them with motivation
and he never was afraid to show affection,
or his unique side of humanity:
that's what he fervently believed!
John,even this total stranger
proudly calls you by name
for having been so brave;
a mother, a father, a son,a sister or friend
who didn't lose anyone, because of your deed,
remembers you in prayer:
and I, a total stranger,related by blood,
praise you in words that'll never grow old!
John,you may be invisible to all,
but your presence is still felt by us;
your handome sons and lovely wife grieve,
but their grief has turned
into something wonderful:
a duty that has been fulfilled
by your call and sacrifice;
a destiny willed by God!
If everyone judges an individual only
by what one has achieved in a lifetime:
you were one of the truest heroes of our time,
who has left his mark on this twentieth century;
and if anyone doubts you did all that,
your devotion can testify and reject that!
Mary was a woman that the Lord hath made
she was a chosen vessel to give life to His babe
the Babe who was destined to reign over the Christian Nation
the Prince of Peace, the Messiah who would die for our salvation
There is only one thing in this world like a mother's love
it's the agape love that comes from God above
for the love of a mother is a special and precious gift
like receiving the Holy Ghost, your spirit it will lift
A mother's love should be given freely by choice
like the word of God in it you will rejoice
a mother's love should not ever be taken for granted
for there are many in this world who have never had it
a mother's love should be cherished and held so dear
for you will surely miss it when it is no longer here
a mother's love is like a heavenly sanctuary
will shield you from evil and anything that is scary
a mother's love is like a fortress of comfort and protection
unconditional, unbreakable with no objection
a mother's love is like a beacon that burns so bright
will guide you out of the darkness and into God's light
a mother's love the most precious gift from God
a mother's love a gift that comes from the heart
I walk in your mountains.
I flow through your streams.
The wonder of wandering
with you in your dreams.
I'll open your eyes
while your still fast asleep.
Awaken from your slumber.
You've promises to keep.
Look to the heavens
and count all the stars.
Count all the pennies
that you keep in your jars.
Believe,what is true.
I'll point you in the right direction
but that's all I can do.
As you walk by the ocean
and watch the sunset.
Don't lose sight of your convictions
and you'll never regret.
That you live as you choose
and you choose love over hate.
Don't get stuck in the drama
it's time to fish or cut bait.
I know you can hear me
because I'm what's good in you.
I am your conscience.
I think you already knew.
O! THE NAME SEASON!
OSCILLATING MY HEART!
GLARING MY EYES!
TINY BUDS PEEPED SLIGHTLY WITH THEIR ODOUR IN THE SPRING SEASON.
TREES SCATTERED TEARS OF LEAVES IN THE AUTUMN SEASON.
BIRDS CAROLLED THEIR GLITTERING GAZALS THEREIN MOONY SEASON.
THE DEWS FLING THEIR KISSES ON THE GRASS IN THE WINTER SEASON.
PEARLY EGGS SPLITED CALMLY THEIR NESTS IN THE SUMMER SEASON.
MOTHS HAVE WREATHED SINGING THEIR OPERAS IN THE BRIDAL SEASON.
CRICKETS WELCOMED WITH THEIR RINGING BELLS AFTER IN THE RAINY
YOUR PLATONIC BLOOD PAINTED MY HEART, BRINGS THE SEASON OF
when God sent His righteous seed down to earth
man's justification was then given birth
a child was born who became a mighty vine
Jesus of Nazareth, a soul most divine
His purpose was to be God's manifestation
His mission was to lead us on the path to salvation
and like a strong vine, He needed to sprout out
He then stretched His gospel branches all about
In spreading the "Good News", He ventured forth
He reached far and wide for mankind's support
He made disciples of a few and evangelized
and like a strong vine, His fruits were prized
His message was very mysterious for those without ears
accept Him as the Son of Man in order to draw His Father near
and for us He became the ultimate sacrifice
forfeited His roots to give us a clean splice
and for everyone who accepts Him as the Lord Christ
they will be blessed with the Holy Spirit in life
his blood became the purest of wine
a bountiful product from a strong vine
Inspiration is found in the gift that is given from the soul. It iminates and
resonates as drums beating and nature singing bring forth swift sound
movement and rhythm to the inner being.
It is often initiated silently so attention is not focused on the giver of this gift but its
Inspiration is found in the laughter at one's self over the life led and the things left
behind are now quietly amusing. Some small memory now brings a smile as the
thought transpires into imagery and if note worthy, is transformed to prose put
down by pen to paper and if found - even much later - shall bring as much joy to
the reader as it first did to the writer.
Inspiration, like beauty, is too found in the eye in the beholder but not so much for
the joy rested upon the sight of the onlooker but the inward delight brought on
partaking in the wonderful exchange of words held captive in intense
Inspiration is found in far off lands where watching growth and development
seem surreal and suspended and yet touches the heart so indepthly that its as if
you too were right there, joined at the hip, at the hand or even more importantly at
Inspiration is found in breathtakenly simple parts of humanity that are often
overlooked - until it is too late, often underrated until the world embraces it or
denied until someone takes notice and simply loves it.
Inspiration is found in the faces you seek to love, love to see and leave you
forever seeking more. Both now and tomorrow, inspiration once again has
embraced my heart through the soft spoken of one such inspirational,
Inspiration - I give you Maya Angelou.
Speak to me, my love, of the dawn
With amber rays that grace the fields…
That our concealed dreams, be now revealed
Grace mine ears with sweet praise
Of your honeyed lips…
Oh, speak of love
That adorns the lands,
Take hold of mine hand ~
Flight of doves
Concede... as you take command
The whispering winds stand still~
While the blue seas touch the once placid shores…
Of this mine heart, shan’t be bored
As with rendered kiss our love’s fulfilled…
The name of Jesus is so powerful.
Name like His, there's no other!
Of that, we can all be sure.
Jesus, is our Lord and Savior and He
Is now in heaven preparing a place for us too
So that we be with Him there someday for all eternity
Powerful is He! And blessed be His divine name forever and ever!
We are quiet when the poetry comes out of us
To not utter a word but just typing what inspires
The A B C's in the rhyme
Are of a scheme that lnks Story with a purpose to
open the eyes of many who may be blind
It does not matter to the order or style of the individual
If the desired artistry or expression is intended by
the pen of the author
Poems interwine between humor,life,and death
They are the piece of our hearts
What we feel in our souls
For each verse
there is a line or more that becomes identifiable
not only to the poet but to the reader,as well
Do not despair if we are not yet recognized
for what our writings in Poetry are all about
It only matters in the Poet's own Dreams
or of Sonnets
TAKE THIS PIECE,MY FRIEND
MAY IT SERVE YOU WELL
I am life, living
asset or liabilty.
having not known
when he meet death
i find myself the last mourner
none the less
i have grief to shoulder
that have become bolder
as history becomes older
a time in my past
and often remembered moments
that made me what i am
my teacher, my master
words he would not understand
but Herman Ruff
was more than just a man
i was just a teenager
when God put me in his hand
with gospel music
he molded my past
i never let go of what he gave me
it still last
i take that talent and use it
where ever i am
that part of him still lives because
he put something inside of me
that said "I can"
i can make music
more beautiful than before
i can use my voice
to open hidden doors
i can make people
stand to the floor
with tenors harmony
that makes them beg for more
all this came from a man
i now adore
with words of tribute
that say i could have done more
some where up in Heaven
on the grandest of grand pianos
giving God the Glory
the way he taught me
Your earth is calm my lord after all these centuries
of pain and disdain when man was to blame for
constant shame in your name. You asked in long
times past that your creation was in image of sacrifice and
the life you lay down for your people was to bring forth blessing
in your holy steeple. In light of martyrs that cried out for mercy on the
mount that you preach your praise and glory all children are pure with
out worry. To walk in the path of grace to whom this land was your chosen
place i worship the everlasting and cast aside those in midnight
passing. My heavenly father in which your house i must dwell i turn away
from chaos and wash my hands of Satan and his sin only to allow your light
to heal me from with in. May all of your people follow your gospel with the same
strength as your brave apostles worthy is your name my lord glory in all things
we must change is your name my father Amen.
try not to put any obstacles in anyone's way
as servants of God in everything we do, on it we will pray
patiently endure the hardships, the difficulties and the troubles
to be persecuted in the name of Christ is just a part of the greater struggle
you might have to go through beatings, being robbed or thrown into jail
you might be overworked, starved or go through all types of hell
but by our purity, our knowledge, our wisdom and patient measure
we will have shown ourselves approved to receive God's eternal treasure
with righteousness as our weapon to attack and defend
with the truth in our message and the Holy Spirit as our friend
we will be honored and disgraced
we will be insulted and praised
we will wield the Sword of the Spirit
and in victory our hands will be raised
although we are saddened, we will always be glad
although we seem poor, we are rich in the love for us Jesus had
we seem to have nothing, when in fact we possess everything
for we are the true servants of God, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings
vindicate me oh Lord, plead my case with Thy righteous hands
deliver me Oh God from any unjust and deceitful man
for You are the God from whence I get all of my strength
cast me off not and never let me mourn for any length
shine upon me Thy light so that I may bask in Your truth
lead me, guide me towards Your Tabernacle Booth
as I kneel beforeThy altar, let my joy be exceedingly
for I will play songs of praise on my harp for all the world to see
be not sadden over my soul nor disquiet the spirit within me
for You are my hope and salvation and I give my all to Thee
He was sitting on the front step of the old family home
Agnes departed,a month ago,to a more "heavenly" destination
But ,everytime a photograph of her begins to come into view
The expression ,of such a lonely apparent ,does not,as yet,
understands what he can plaintively do,to ease the sorrow and a Heart..quietly
beating and a brief little sigh..
..while looking upward and gently starts to cry
George,a wise sage at 75, is in temporary hibernation
The children are grown and have moved out,a great distance since
He watches the neighborhood fondlings,hurriedly running home
from the old schoolyard,where he used to play,about 60 or so,passing Autumns
As the babies hop and skip,Grandpa George stands up to shake his hip
and whispering,ever so softly to himself:
"If only the Internet and Web sites had existed back then,
I would have gotten a B+ or maybe an A"
Such reminisces can be,at such turmultuous times,too much
for even a grandparent to bear
But,the truth can also be beautiful:
Just clear the mind and let ,the folliage of today,into your Spring
and early Summer:
"Mother would have approved at this canvas that I do paint with
the brushes that are kept on the tray,in the farthest corner of my Mind"
the fanciest of Beamers or a Television plasma continue to disturb our vision's
Impel us to heavy weight and true Nature does her best to replicate and we are
tuned to AMERICAN IDOL,sitting lazily to contemplate
This Man of an earlier age,
still sitting on the front step
Staring,obtusively,toward the Milky Light
and calling to Mama:
"Someday,my sweet..I will return to you,forever onto the Night..
our hands,together,with the Angels,humming our Wedding Day hymn
with our majesty's blessing and just a dab of poetry's write
Rhythm, beats, tunes.
Oh how they please the longing ears
with their sweet melody.
Come, sadness, for you will be chased away
by the harmony that lives happily in my soul,
like an unborn baby resting inside my stomach.
Stay back, tension, for you will not win the fight against the soothing notes,
floating in an ocean throughout my mind.
Come, anger, for the colorful music of my heart
will hinder you from the evil plans
of your black, tuneless heart.
Leave us, fear, for the brave melody in my life
brings me power and strength
to overcome the many obstacles you have purposely set in my path.
Keep playing, beautiful tune, for I now lazily lay back,
each ear keenly engulfing the rhythmical sound of my favorite song.
The music shall shield me everyday,
like a father protects his daughter from the heartless, unkind world.
Love brings you back
When you fall down
Love brings the colors back
When everything looks grey
Love brings pieces back
When they seem to be totally broken
Love brings souls back
When those souls get stuck
Love brings generosity back
When the world becomes selfish
Love brings the sun back
When the days are dark
Love brings desire back
When your body gets frozen
Love brings the flavor back
When life has no taste
Love brings good sense back
When life doesn't make sense
Love is the glue
When it holds everything back