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Age Philosophy Poems | Age Poems About Philosophy

These Age Philosophy poems are examples of Age poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Age Philosophy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

I Water My Garden

I water my garden
Every day
I tend to Wander and Lust
Between the wild and the sweet is no place to be 
Like home

The rush of the wind over the river dry
Cuts through the garden mine
And compels the dust to whisper
Whisper, I know you,
Little Noise White

They whittle my garden
Down to the snow-white bones, the lies
The seeds, like every flake of snow, lie
Unique and terrible each
Unique little white lies

Over, my garden
One after another unlike the other proceed, the others
Ill-fitting coats in the high, high heat
One layer after the other – each and every one, a lie
Peel one after the other and in lies another
 
Fallen to the ground too late for roots
The hard-won shoots shoot
They shoot the sky
They cast little shadows behind
My garden, I

The wind blows
And the seeds are carried away
They grow in fields strange
Where others tend to the wolves and I
Like the black sheep, stray

A dream,
Drawn by the clouds,
The hard-won shoots shoot
They shoot the sky
And cast little shadows behind

Little stormcrow, leave
Leave your place 
Is no place to be like home
My garden, I
Water, every day

The water is rising
And the seeds are floating away
They drown in rivers strange
Where others swim in the water and I
In the deep end, lay

At the end of the line, lie
Shoot the sky and fall
Too late for roots
My garden, I
Grow, every day

The sky is falling
And the shoots are tumbling away
They die in meadows strange
Where the grass grows inside and I
Like the black widow, play

Too late for roots, I shoot the sky
And I cry
Water, I
Garden, I
Every day

- A. H. Sewell ©2015
https://www.facebook.com/HelanaSewell1


Details | Free verse | |

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She awaits one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow.
Happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, to her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine resides in her eyes!

For Catie Lindsey's contest. 
I hope she sees beyond her shadows to her field of buttercups.


Details | Ballad | |

OUR LOVE

(Groom speaks...)
In this world are things to contemplate.
Therefore, life can be complicated.
Stairs we must climb to overcome conflict.
Heaven is an open door of realities.
As my adoration of you is metaphoric, 
I am blessed that you feel the same.
We are together as one.
Our passion flows.
Our ardor is aglow.

(Bride speaks...)
In this life are confrontations.
We must address our demons to form our inner being.
Nothing is more than the characteristic of self-worth.
I see yours darling and it is me.
May I be shallow in the passion I feel?
I adore you.
I am yours.
Let’s share this with the world.

(Groom speaks...)
I asked you to marry me.
You said yes.
My head start spinning.
I felt the depth in my chest.
Our marriage vows have been written.
Our big day has come.
I am your man.
You are my woman.

(The Groom says his written vows.…)
Complicated the world may be.
Our time together will be cherished by the passion we feel.
You are my paradise and my sunshine.
I am yours until the end of time.
Our life, as one, is intertwine with all aspects.
As a tree grows, so does our lust.
As a river flows, so does our thirst.
As a meadow brooks the crows, so does our fascination accept our conundrums.
I will ardor you forever.

(The Bride says her written vows.…)
Complicated the world is.
Our time together we cherish.
You are my sunshine and my paradise.
I am yours until the end of time.
Our life, as one, interweaves.
Life aspects will challenge each.
Our fervor defeats all our troubles.
As landscape flourish, so does our lust.
As lea bravado, so does our thirst.
As a meadow brooks the crows, so does our infatuation withstand any rival.
Our ardor is dominance.
Our ardor is exuberance.

(Bride speaks...)
I adore you my man!

(Groom speaks...)
And I, adore you my woman!

(Music continues to play in the background until the symphony ends.)
_____________________________________________________________|
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 04, 2014!


Details | Rispetto | |

A Twisted Ploy

Somehow it seems life loses joy A game, perhaps a twisted ploy An end to those most tender years The zest is gone, but life goes on Till her last welcome breath is drawn False hopes reality now clears Somehow it seems life loses joy A game, perhaps a twisted ploy No one her age can still recall The charms of youth that did enthrall An end to those most tender years False hopes reality now clears Somehow it seems life loses joy A game, perhaps a twisted ploy
*Written October 8, 2014 Form: Sonnetina Rispetto


Details | Rhyme | |

I AM

                                                                                                 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
                                                                                                                                    
                                                                                                           

I AM  the voice of erstwhile nations

Mali
Ghana
and
Songhai
                                                                                                                                      
                                                                                                              

 I AM the river of all their sorrows
because their well has now gone dry

I AM
Africa

I AM Wisdom
The one who gave the world its seed

I AM the slave who broke his chains...
...behind their backs I learned to read

I AM the sound of children weeping
without guidance
Hope
or
Love

I AM their Keeper, I AM compassion
I AM their strength sent from above

I AM the echo of  Blackmen's protests
I AM Dark Hued, Caramel, and Tan

I AM a scholar and not inferior...
...I AM more than "three fifths" a man!

I AM the Sun, the Moon, the Galaxy
I AM the Dawn that brings the Light

I AM the eagle in all its glory
I AM the thought that takes to flight

I AM Maya, Brooks, and Sanchez
I AM the spark that lights the fuse

I AM the Dream that's reached fruition
I AM Woodson, Shabazz, and Hughes

I AM words that are not yet spoken
I AM all of the writers who go unheard

I AM their Spirit, I AM fulfillment...


..I AM..


A mixture of conscious stirred


By Don Simmons
Aka Don Poetiq
 

                                                                          
                                                                      


                 


Details | Rhyme | |

Fate and the False Hope

Fate and the False Hope


Arrow of fate flies silently straight
targeted mark is found never too late
Man thinks himself master of his fate
forever the fish takes in hopes bait

Time clouds storm right on along
men, ants in a loud, dusty throng
Vanity stirs in such shallow hearts
unmindful of Fate's piercing darts

Burrowing deeply into their mound
seeking treasure never to be found
Their Queen , mistress of dark lust
deep down epic lamentations or bust

Fate flows readily into the dark deeps
man wickedly schemes even as he sleeps

Robert J. Lindley  09-11-2014


Details | Rhyme | |

Letter to Frank stanton

Written after reading Frank Stanton's poem 'The lightning age'

Letter to Frank Stanton.

Hey, Frankie you should see it now
You wouldn’t believe it my good pal
There’s radios, and TV sets
Man you ain’t seen nothing yet
Bombs made to destroy the world
It’s gone way past those spears they hurled
In those days so long ago
Hey Mate this world it has changed so.

We’re on computers every day
We don’t need phones to have our say
The phones we have, they need no wires
It seems mankind he never tires
Of building new things to play with
It’s a funny world in which we live
Frank, you would not like it here
Gone are the things you held so dear.

Marriage it don’t mean a thing
These days it seems it’s just a fling
Most don’t care about sacred vows
Relationships mean nothing now
They’re killing off all nature’s beauty
Building like it is their duty
To destroy all of this wonderland
 Frank you would not understand.

Frank, there’s hatred all around
Everywhere there be the sound 
Of guns and missiles, we’re all mad
Oh yes, my friend, it’s very bad
Oh, Frank you would not like it here 
Maybe you’d even die of fear
Each day, it has no certainty
No one knows what’s going to be.

15 August 2014 @ 1700hrs



Details | Rhyme | |

A New How

If you could relive an ancient day, which day, which day, which day would you say?
First kiss, first date 
Or undo a mistake?
.
Watch your child be birthed again 
Go back and unhurt a wounded friend?
Unsay a word?
Unbreak a heart?
Undrink that first drink?
Unscar that first scar?
.
Or would you go to another place
Feel your dad's hands
See your mom's face?
Laugh with your sisters
Let little brother win that foot race
.
Maybe pet that dog just one more time 
Hear grandma recite that old nursery rhyme
Maybe take up for the kid that got picked on
Or hear again for the first time your favorite old song
.
Or tell your kids you loved them again and again
No matter what they'd just done or how late they had been
But you can't go in reverse to relive any day
What you would have done
Or what you would say
.
But you can say now what you wouldn't before 
You can be someone new open up a new door
You can make a difference in your here and now
You can't be a new when but can be a new how


Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Lyric | |

Rhyme XOX

I just want my summertime
To be at a stand still.
Sometimes, when women cross my mind,
I'm not sure just what to feel.

I'd like to call her friend,
And I want us to mean something.
I can find several, yet in the end,
It seems like all I have is nothing.

So where is the evidence
That says I should move forward?
Show me a sign that's heaven sent;
A point I should move toward.



©2013 Honestly JT


Details | Rhyme | |

Does it really matter

Does it really matter?

Does it really matter?
What you’ve done, or what you’ve been
Or whether you be special
{What ever that word means}
Whether you see one hundred
Or live for an hour or so
One day the  ‘Reaper’ he will come
And off with him you’ll go.

Does it really matter?
Whether you be Prince, or king
Millionaire or poorest pauper
It doesn’t mean a thing
He’ll have no sympathy for you
That one in sombre black
One day it will be time for you
To make that final act

Does it really matter?
That each must turn to dust
This be the way it’s always been
So in it you must trust
Relax and let the river flow
Then what will be, will be
You’re born alone. You’ll die alone
This is the tale of thee.

5 November 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Human Frailty

...Apologies to Heraclitus and W. H. Auden...

We, defeated by the merest things,
in defeat, endure...for now.

No abiding truth in "faith":
origins and destinations
we cannot differentiate,
all random, unguided
by any prescient power;
but, not illogical (there is no illogic.)

We impose all "universal order,"
influence what subsequently occurs,
to learn, or not, through endless repetition,
endless failure...and we are
but a current iteration,
here for now -- like all,
in constant flux,
defeated by the merest things.

Courage and nobility derived
from continued confrontation,
continued endless struggle,
let us "show an affirming flame."


Details | Rhyme | |

Bravery Is All There Is

When darkness falls and finds us all alone,
When the heart becomes a small grey stone ...
     Bravery is all there is.

When thunder shakes the windowpanes,
When those we love lie wracked with pain ...
     Bravery is all there is.

Bravery concedes its fear;
Does not attempt to hide its tears.
Bravery is born of holding calm,
In quietly, doggedly, carrying on.

When reason fails to light the dark,
When the answer is a question mark ...
     Bravery is all there is.

When justice seeks to rule in vain,
When sorrow sweeps the roiling brain ...
     Bravery is all there is.

Bravery trembles while it stands,
Accepts what it cannot command.
Bravery bears its burdens well,
Looks not to see if others tell.

     Be brave then, Mystery asks of us;
     Face the unknown with silent trust -
     For at the End, there is only this:
     Bravery is all there is.
     Bravery is all there is.


Details | I do not know? | |

A 'c' change

If you should search for knowledge 
To answer the riddle of your self

All the books found on every library shelf
Might not relieve your puzzle a smidge

Because ‘h’ is the difference of self from shelf
Search within and you’ll see without eyes.

Things happen in a test tube
That we can easily observe and explain

But anywhere outside of it
It’s not quite the same

That’s because it’s out in the open
Where there’s less control and closure.

Some advise taking only two steps 
Once into and once out of water 

Supposedly while you’re watching 
Perpendicular to a flowing stream

So firstly you get your feet wet
And then you get them dry.

Or you take the opposite length
Over the adjacent length

Then every measured distance
Makes each tangent different 

But if trigonometry was used at Pisa
That’s not why the place is famous.

So if a princess was in a tower
And let’s assume she was a prisoner 

At least she should have a window
Because horizons offer a fine view

Then the next time the witch calls her
Rupunzel throws down her chair.


Details | Free verse | |

Stems - A Greater Harvest

The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.

The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.

The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.

The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.

Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.

Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.

                                   The stem asks the question of why did this happen.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

You Don't Know Me

You don’t know me
So why do you stare?
What are you looking for?
Who do you see?
Why make me uncomfortable
When you don’t know me
I have come from a place
Where there’s bondage and pain
Called hitherto so here’s where I’ll remain
So don’t see me as foreign, an outcast, or lost
See me as you are because I’ve paid the cost
I paid to be here and I’ve paid to be free
So don’t stare so hard because you don’t know me
My beauty is not a façade
My image is real
For it’s the image of God
And he created me with Zeal
He was excited about me
He knew all that I would do
So I ask to what degree
Does my existence bother you?
There’s offense in your eyes
This much I can see
But it’s all unnecessary
Because you don’t know me
I am not here to be seen
Nor do I come to see
So forgive me as I remind you
That you don’t know me!
I’ve told you about my now
While reflecting on my then
Where I am and where I’ve been
In all of my explaining
Of who I am and what I be
What saddens me deeply is
You still don’t know me!


Details | Rhyme | |

The Victory Dance

To play as if today
Is your only chance.
Some say, “It’s just a game.”
Have they done the Victory Dance?

When hard-earned Victory
Was finally at hand,
Have they felt the glory
Raining down from the stands?

To do or not to do….
No one wants to hear, “We tried.”
Effort and dedication will be rewarded… 
They'll make the 'magic' that's on your side. 

Yes, to fall short is still an option;
But much better to succeed.
Heroes are made and remembered
Only by their deeds.

So, just go out and win.
Give your all to each and every chance.
Persevere and achieve…

And do the Victory Dance.


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Free verse | |

LOVE

Loyalty
One self
Virtuous
Eternity


Details | Personification | |

Four-Play

Four corners.
Stands, four players. 
Quarrels of foul cries, collided.
Facing each nemesis into quadrants, divided. 

Individuals motivated by objectives.
Devising plans, careful detectives. 
Goal to achieve the highest rank, careful steps--discriminate.
Going by the hit-list, tunnel vision, hindrances must eliminate. 

Scoping intensely, measuring opponents, methodical evaluation. 
Staying alert, mind assessment, sedulous investigation. 
Shrill of the first struck, the red bullet--bounces. 
Instant reflex, ricochet the shot, violence--denounces. 

The King may bend the rules, charges swift modification. 
The Pawns are summoned, critical prosecution. 
The Bishop prays for the suspects, classified praises, flattery denunciation. 
The Queen cradles a heart, each beat rebounds, battery probation.


Details | Sestina | |

Seeing What

Manifestations in life come from chosen
application of frequent thoughts in one's mind
Reveals and befalls a person's existence
Resource for combustion the fuel is spirit
This one can learn even if they not humble
All acts come into being through the body

Impulsive are the desires of body
Selfish at times be these acts one has chosen
Passion does carry energy for spirit
yet this life adventure is just one existence
There are many more for the creative mind
This should cause all to pause and be humble

Still those deny that there is a co-existence
carrying on with life never be humble
they all follow the dark path they have chosen
allowing uncontrolled thoughts to run the mind
Reluctantly it does comply the spirit
Paid by his holy sacrifice of body

Unlimited is the source of the spirit
becoming aware of this is to humble
knowing there is more than human existence
Serving only as a vessel the body
placed to carry out the deeds that are chosen
Placing utmost importance on state of mind

Considerations to remaining humble
It provides one with a peaceful existence
thoughtful are all of the decisions chosen
Willing compliant must be the spirit
Stable and balanced at all times is the mind
Righteous and just are the acts of the body

Coming to an understanding in one's mind
Relating all things as is to the body
Ever present to assist is the spirit
a faithful and loyal companion chosen
who steadily remain fixed to be humble
There in part lay a eternal existence

Sought after is a chosen
humble coexistence
of mind, body and spirit


Details | Verse | |

My Words

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 
and temptations

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


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Rhyme | |

For Always

Every moment I can't see your face;
These are the days and nights when I miss you.
I ask that you stay for always,
On sunny days and when it rains too.

If I speak to another pretty dame,
She's not the flame inside that grows.
In my heart you will remain;
This one thing I'd like you to know.



©2013 Honestly JT
For Skat -Love's "Under 10" Poetry Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013


Details | Haiku | |

Hooey

"Just a state of mind",
Too often said of aging.
Get old... then tell me.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

ERADICATING POVERTY, LLC

ERADICATING POVERTY, LLC Verlena’s destiny calls for a perfected cause. In aura of amazing grace via a walk of faith, is her voice. At the Tombs of Saints, she proclaims her life and choice. She will not be suppress. She will uplift her existence to what is best, that which is rightful. During colonial time, the thinking of man, in this part of the world, was based on intelligence. He defined the structure for equality yet, enslavement. He emancipated yet, civil entrapment. He became mobile, nevertheless, systematic discrimination formed. And, as all of this was taking place, founding fathers were manifesting destiny. The lens of the future is today. Hasten through transgression Verlena is anointed to be wise. The knowledge endowed has awarded her insight to the Social Sciences. She is the founder of a New School of Thought – The School of Social Theology. Therefore, I am Social Theorem of today. A Social Scientist generalization, which evolved from the acumen of history titivated. Insofar, Verlena S. Walker will henceforward to remove the troubles of the world. Therein, a socio-political socio-religious structure has formed. |_________________________________________________________________| Penned on November 4, 2014!


Details | Rhyme | |

The Wandering Yogi

??? ???? ?????? ??????

The Wandering Yogi 

From city to city, from every  town to town
Catching every smile to smile, every frown to frown.
His allegiance goes to the exalted one, not any nobility nor the crown.
The mysterious venture itself is a compass – forever trailing up and down. 

He vision’s more to the sandstorm than just the sands might. 
What he really seeks is the commandeering winds, hidden from man’s sight. 
For he is like a moth, forever trying to follow the mystical light. 
A servant of humanity, here to douse out ones fiery plight. 

The mystical light to him, is like the sweet essence of nectar to a bee
His journey has no fragrant flower to guide the way, only his heart must see.
The burden of Caste, Creed and Colour cannot weigh him down – forever he is free.
These bitter ingredients are for his pestle and mortar, mixed together to serve he. 

Always alert, always ominous. Wary of the treacherous thorns. 
Even the smallest prickle can poisonously permeate – towards the path of the one with horns. 
Decorating his path to God for others to follow – moving on as he adorns. 
And for those who have permanently set their ship astray – he shall set up half mast, for he mourns. 

From sunrise to sunset. From a healthy youth to a venerable age.
Adhering to his spiritual principals. A beacon of knowledge – a mystical sage. 
Until he reaches his beloved, his only shelter against this life is faith and a hermitage. 
Walking steadfast on an arduous journey of pain and languish – travelling away from life’s cage.  The Wandering Yogi.


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Details | Rhyme | |

THE SEVEN DIVISIONS OF WOMANHOOD

To Shakespeare I give all due respect,
But the world must be a huge theater I suspect.
Woman’s the major player if not the star,
For she influences all with love from afar.
The main acts of her drama as one envisions,
Occur for my audience in seven divisions. 

First the helpless infant in her nurse’s arm,
Fresh from God’s hands smiling and warm.
Yet guiltless and untouched by worldly strife,
She is but a stranger to sin in this dawn of life.
In her pink crib she looks cute and pure,
With a smile on her lips so modestly demure.

Next as a tender young girl of school age,
With pigtails and grace she enters the stage.
An innocent young girl loving dolls and toys,
She has no taste for bruises, math or boys.
Her voice is like music whenever she speaks,
Explaining with emotion the desire she seeks.

In the sweet summer age she becomes a blossom,
And weathers the waves in the role of stardom.
Now she’s a young lady with a pure, creative mind,
Nursing dreams of a life moral and refined.
When put into the orbit of heart-consuming men,
Overcoming dying hope, her world she has to win.

As a wife she makes her home a true nirvana,
 Winning from the man she loves her merited honor.
 She is in hard times his source of consolation,
And in times of pleasure his joy and elation.
As a lover and a mate she continues to perform,
Keeping house and home through every storm.

Now for the most blessed age of female life,
She assumes the role of mother as well as wife.
Like God's miracle, the first is released with a hurl,
Then with tears and a scream from womb to world.
Before long baby laughs aloud and pleads for caress,
And mother love with playful smile grants the request.

Next the vestiges of youth appear a distant dream,
And spring's lovely buds now attest to her final esteem,
As she enters her mournful stage of the widow's woe,
Her glance upon her children falls as her eyes overflow.
She has lost all her young heart once fondly enjoyed,
And in the business of change of life she's fully employed.     

 With the final division, youth is now a faded flower,
 And she can bask in the coolness of the evening hour.
 As she enjoys the reflection of her progeny having fun,
 She is reminded that maternal pleasures are not yet done.
 She continues to impart knowledge necessary to sustain,
 As she guides their hopes to reach for the heavenly domain.