I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
Shall raw and bleeding wounds gape wide for thee
and overcoat each new parchments’ page?
Are thee foul succubus seeking a sage
undead and living vicariously?
Shall another’s soul flow unbound to thee
like a courtesan released from her cage
each tomes rich with crimson text overlaid.
So alone, thee can dine veraciously?
Shall life come a courting as thy subject?
Nay, lance the ripe boil of lassitude.
Purge thy barren cloister genuflect.
Author thine own life thee are not destitute.
Expand into the world, let life project.
Arise, pale spirit and the sun exude.
It's 7Am here, and cold
Just awoke, with,
Oh, Here We Go Again!
Fever, Pain, Confusion,
And Lots of Other Groovy Things
To Keep My Mind Busy...
Many more people know of you
than a few days ago....
Did you ever hear of Rod Mckuen?
Professional poet/ musician/songwritter-
One of the reasons I love poetry...
Not only will you understand him, you should
enjoy him.....Sorry about your work load....
My French is rusty.....I'm pretty good in geometry though;
received 100% on NYS Regents Exam when young-
an unheard of thing, scores in college of 97-99% for the term's work,
and it seemed easy as pi (joke- pie, etc....oh, why am I explaining it,
sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.......) Hope you have a happy day.....write an
indepth poetic bio?? I'd love it, so would many others....
you are known in literary circles here now, I'd venture to guess....
surprising, the power of words, n'est pas? Je ne sas pa, rien du tout....pardon
my spelling and french......it's unused since early 1960's (ancient history) What
city are you in? Ever travel??? A favorite destination??? Any questions about
the enigmatic nature of "Americans?" We're really well meaning, just sometimes
seems we might misinterpret, or misunderstand things obvious to others (and
vica versa....) Do you get to see movies??? Need books to read?? I got a library
of 10,000 books, at least, being handicapped gives me too much time on my
hands, and my health leaves me precious little of a future to expect. I have lots
of funny stories. I hope you are okay....I never met anyone so brilliant in 57 years
of living. Youf friend in poetry, tom."
I'm very happy I found this site,
PoetrySoup.com is a lot of fun,
I spend so much time on the computer now
I have time for no other one...
It's a rush, a blast, a challenge...
I'll love it till I die...
Only one thing troubles me,
And that's the reason why..
I spend so much time hunched over,
typing in my silly poems,
Hoping that they'll soon be read
In many far off homes...
But I do appear to have a problem...
A physical one at that...
My neck is hurting so severely,
By hours looking down,
writing and reading..
In the spot I sat...
I gotta make a judgement call...
Is the fun worth more than the pain?
Compared to the fun I have, the pain begins to pall
Who would not prefer the sunshine to the rain??
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
I do not know?
A revolution without radicals
squash casserole without squash.
Oh, and just so ya know, radicalism and violence are two completely unrelated terms.
Coffee's my lot,
a big pot calms
a nut like me!
Is it the drink
that my sink hates?
Stains stick like paint!
I write and drink,
when the ink stops...
thoughts shrink and fade!
Keep your liquor and your meth cigarettes;
stow away your needles and white powder.
My mind craves stimulation without sweats
caused by vices others choose for regrets.
Give me words, inky scrawl across a page,
the fluid cadence of a verbal dance
freeing the psyche from an iron cage
imprisoned by a mundane daily trance.
Prohibit fresh diction to discover
the foul temper that lies within my breast.
Prevent access to verse and uncover
an exhausted maudlin beast is expressed.
I get my fix within a library.
It’s cheap to be hooked onto poetry.
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
And you all thought
that after reaching home,
I would jump in the shower so fast
and off to bed...I'd snooze to end my boredom?
On my lunch hour I take a light nap,
it's beneficial to your health the doctor confidently says;
and should I ever see a scary, black cat
running across my windshield...a nightmare surely begins.
Working hard in a warehouse
with people and forklifts in full swing,
I must be more alert than a mouse
being chased by a bunch of hungry cats drooling.
To sit at my desk and write a poem for a new contest:
is a challenging and rewarding experience for an obscure poet;
and while others sleep and their spirits float in mysterious dreams,
I reflect over the rhetoric language of what life seems.