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
Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words,
and not necessarily my reality;
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing
You can be who you want to be on any level
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys, or places that some don’t even think exist
They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses whether they are just cases,
or me in the absolute right here
My words exude positive intentions;
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections
and reversed dejection
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul
Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect
according to divine order
They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time
because up until now,
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside –
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation
of words cascading from a nebulous eye
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto
a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,
and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly
sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry
fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,
Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion
itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever
careering from caustic career path to another new low,
Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s
counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the
fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp
Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent
with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond
farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering
Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and
gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed
existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a
Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding
gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels
in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love.
Praise no other; I am poetry.
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Am I the only one who's feeling there is something very wrong with all of this ,
I can't seem to get anybody to listen not even when I raise my fist.
How can they not see what I see ,has everybody lost thier mind I say,
Why can't they see what it is that is making them act this way.
Have you taken a look around to see there's something that has changed,
When you look into peoples eyes Lord how you can see the rage.
No compassion for thier fellow man as if they have never ever cared,
For the future of mankind and how we all should be aware.
Saw a friend of mine the other day he was acting a little strange ,
I can't help but wonder just when , how , and who's the blame.
This power and greed is consuming us all we just can't seem to stop
Stepping on our brothers & sisters as we race to the top.
Where's the love ,the kindness ,the hope and faith we use to live by,
How we allowed ourselves to sink so low I' will never know why.
Still I will contunue to spread the word which has always been,
Be good and love one another as you are learning not to sin.
Please don't be another wreck that has been pushed to the side ,
If you' listen to the one and only word you will know why.
We will all band together so we can stand tall and free,
It is one simple word and that is love how could you nor see.
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men
We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge
Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.
The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.
My constant mirror from heaven,
On earth and in the sea,
Only you can be;
But can you see yourself in my poetry?
of all metals to win the clay:
father time in my chest
keeper of its own pace
just skin and bone depth
influences time and space
what are we but drifters
in an unknown
see truth in a literal
belief before my face
stars with no funeral
light will win the race
here i am, not for long
death starts at home
where is this leading?
which story could it be?
despite all my reading
writings the cup of tea
i dont need to know it all
as long as im not alone
Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival,
I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches
Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
He holds the key to this new world.
The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience
Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped
Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence
Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped
Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.
My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
Our intrepid journey commences...
That verse still lives.
We forgot His Words
Aren`t we the real verses ?
Subject of poor poetry
Just like this one. Damn.
Just do what ever you think if you must,
Cause with you there can be no trust.
Faith and love is what you must learn,
It is something you must go out and earn.
Respect and understanding is how you must start,
To keep a love from completely falling apart.
If Joy and Happiness is what you seek ,
Then be strong and true it will be yours to keep.
Kindness and compassion is a good rule to follow,
It will bring brighter days for al your tomorrows .
Love as if it were the last day of your life,
Try caring with open arms and do not fight .
This life is precious if there is someone to love ,
Try to remember that it is a gift from above.
Breath deeply and
Place your pen aside
It has little power left in it
Although you have endeavored
These are not your moments inspiring
But are too transparent in simplicity to record
Where is your racking anger and troubled solace?
You always compose through those eyes filled with sorrow
The meter of your verse will be painted with a dangerous divinity
And a spiritual suggestion as you put blindfolds over our true eyes
Light that flame within us that directs us past fear as a radiant beacon
That astonishes the most naïve in us with an exhilarated spiritual moment
Only you will hear its approach echoing deep within your creative heart
The tides of time will cleanse away obscurity corrupting your mind
The long deceased will reanimate as the verse flows unfettered
Those thoughts are fetal now wait to put pen to paper
While they grow under the blanket of fulfillment
Soon they will all surface and wash ashore
On the eternity of the rising sun
With the storms passing
In the hour of their birth
Let the moment rise
But breathe deep
how does one sustain and retain spiritual revival
to go to the next level and have spiritual survival?
how do you move higher and increase your faith
and not regress nor become stagnant?
we need to be saturated in God's holy word
read the basic instructions before leaving earth
if you can't seem to understand the manual of God
how can you know your purpose in life or even where to start?
we're all in this world trying to make some sense
dealing with reality hoping not to get warped nor bent
know your basic instructions before leaving earth
be aware of what it is that God wants you to know first
when reading His manual in order for everything to turn out right
you must follow the basic principles sent down from the Kingdom of Light
we always get in trouble whenever we veer from God's hands
we always have to struggle when we don't follow His master plan
but for the grace of God, but for His will
but for His mercy that you are here still
you can tell much about some people by how they maintain the Lord's temple
it's a way to measure their faith and obedience, plain and simple
so stop worrying about worldly possessions forget all of that stuff
don't be a slave to material things that can't help when life gets too rough
don't worry about what you have nor what you think you own
for all you see belongs to God, the Kingdom and the throne
it's a matter of trust, it's about putting God first
it's about reading the basic instructions before leaving earth
to grow in your faith just study the Word every day
and stand on It's foundation for It will guide your way
advance in godly spirit and discover your true worth
by reading your basic instructions before leaving earth
you're a child of Christ so exult and edify the Lord
use the Holy manual and all will be in accord
yes, the Bible is required for it's the focal point
It's the prerequisite for one to get anoint
for the Bible is the primary source for spiritual preparation
It's the guiding light to spiritual revelation
so read and study God's manual and develop a powerful thirst
for reading the Basic Instruction Before Leaving Earth
I do not know?
Uncertainty of something so certain
That has an uncertain end
Eternally searching for ways to mend
A broken mind with leaking emotions from a shattered vessel
It seems like I forgot what made me special
Am I jealous?
If I am I don’t know who
But I doubt if that’s true
What am I to do?
Nothing to construe
But I’ll leave my problem up to you
And for you to fathom
And think about
With every chance I get
I scream and shout
But what upsets me
No one seems to remember
But they always forget me
But what affects me?
I don’t have a clue
With all that said and done
Here is what I conclude
Me and my attitude
Got too many problems
I need help to solve them
I search for answers
When there is no explanation
Life’s toughest breaks
Cease my concentration
With little or no contemplation
To request demonstrations
For any translation
Of my bedazzling situations
My mind’s cramped like menstruation
In need of spiritual penetration
To reach the source causing a many complications
So I can feel that sensation
And feel the infatuation
Of being human and breathing breath
Then I’ll look forward to life after death
Even if I am the last one left
I’m ready for spiritual theft
And my rhyme so def
I am the most def
Equivalent to the definition
Compare me to you
And you’ll see what you are missing
Human snakes hissing
And twirling their tongues of guile
I reveal to them the truth
But they still in denial
Spiritual war may take a while
But when I’m in hard times I smile
And avoids things that are vile
Because I know my inner demons
Ain’t ready for this child
Born to be wild
Developed my own style
But about to be grown