To win is the trying..!' gainst despairs blank stare, a wounded earth still
rolls on..! Midst the throes of territorial vying..
Shows our shattered crystal the counsel of despair
As the pales; of circumvention, invade earth's free sod and air,
Oh.! such power we covet To maintain..! what is "right?" what is yours..
can be theirs" or is it ours..? should we fight..?
Yes it tears through our city's this division reprised,
To the call of soulless ambition, destruction quickens in stride,
And! yet not new its existence..) "for know ye Satan he is a liar"
Though it was hid deep in shadow; was to emerge its sly desire.
Yet how ask us "innocent's" & why should this be?
Whilst we gaze upon its sickness and water the seeds..!
So we stand without reason, or we lay down condemned,
Yet open hearts to salvation; on Jesus depend,
Call his name now in season) let the fetters free fall,
The Miracle is "willing" none should perish is all..!
invert & impassive,
moon reflective like.. shadow"
taste blossom; copper chablis..
Surfside stand a lady & man
lost in (a moment) on silca lands
so stand this even (handed two)
before a sky limpid blue
with a hearts glow to melt the burning sand.
Love limned laughter, (lines out) sweet promised sign,
satin billows of cloud surround divine,
backdrop sky a blue silk screen
young as fun forever keen
pre-empting fate this faultless time.
Pouring waves and passion combine
light moods, effervescent, (platinum fine)
flows a presence vivid & wild,
flaming love & (destiny's child,)
raptured revolving evolving in time.
By Joe Maverick,copyright 2011 for Linda-Marie's loveland limerick contest.
When my spirit was fogged in gloom
After i impacted concrete; like a lead balloon
It lifted my strength as i started to write
Of a beautiful girls toy; on its maiden flight
Intended for a contest by souper trouper P D
But i wrote it wrong in "form" if you look you'll see...)
Yet on its immersion in "the soup" i felt satisfied
It seemed to numb the pain; i had been feeling inside
Its not winning or losing while on "the soup"
Though neither string bean; or minestrone (i feel) in "the loop"
There are many places to spend a while,
But the "draw" for me is "the soups" unique flavor & style
It has content..) that's peaceful, stimulating," its fine"
Yet words versus" its essence is exercising my mind,
Let its writers and their themes be the answer to why
I extol "the soups" virtue; that's my definitely my very best try..!
Copyright Joe Maverick 2012
in support of Carol Browns what you love about "the soup"
amended 19 02 2012.
Hard edged (unreality) you face away from my immediacy (candour eschewing) inimically you parody, offering as nice the complexity of ''vice''exploiting even nature
(as voyeur and narrator) your intention anethema to the nations,
as you coerce ''your creation'' encouraging over consumption,
with a hard nosed gumption, yet my God who is greater
is no longer willing to be a waiter!sickle in hand he is walking his land,
with the sun as his shadow is this (One)
to be Hallowed..!
Upon the waters waiting still,, a scudding duck decends.!
Dragonflies hover over blossoms and leeches deep,
Geese shake their heads, as they are passing the fronded willows, in verdant pleats
Hissy hiss is all they say,with their blatant contempt for the lush summers day!
The ganders enjoying their swaggering time on this fecund month of may.
While on meadow banks are waxing longer the source of septembers hay
Near lily pads
A gaggle of goslings go
Deep yellow fluffing they bob
Eyes on mom stay (close)
Egrets stream like banners
( Art white) on aqua skies.
Joe Maverick for Constance La France's four beautiful birds contest.
copyright may 2011
A promotion of anxiety
entwines with current society,
engendering moral surrendering,
we live a life now so compromised,
with more to fear therein, than mortal demise.
Copyright Joe Maverick 2011
Cast me upon the dreaming sea, beneath the roots of heavens tree,
within the flow of timeless tide, the mind soul and spirits glide,
come come! and yet there's that other truth, be still within..!
within your sphere; that also true to enlightenment's face,
await's its free and giving grace.
copyright Joe Maverick 2011
written in celestial verse.
The full fallow moon was hung low in July;
As white stars & fireflies lit the night sky
A sight to behold was the feline bold;
Drawing sighs from the violin, his arms did enfold
He played on the breeze to the harvest to come
As An orchestra of crickets rasped to each thrum...'
He raised now the tempo and thought
Of a dish & a spoon that had shone
In delighted dedication....as off they did run!
And so he made ‘paws' quaffing wine from a tun;
Then throwing the fiddle up tight to his chin;
He forgot about thinking in pursuit of more din!
The cow swished her tail to the music he made
As the dog danced the polka, through a small garden maze!
He played till the pearly dawn light did show
Then the crickets fell silent; and the bird calls did grow!
He slept where he fell, to bother no more...
As a ship makes its way to the safest of shores..’
As he turns in his slumber, as she rolls o'er the waves
He would hold no regrets ‘till the ending of days.'
©Joe Maverick 12-10-13
Falling riffs like spangled gold,
And sounding drums seem to explode
A surge of tapping, dancing feet,
The piano’s notes, mon coeur entreat.
Cherie amour the air is ''sweet'', so silver laced,
Each face reflects another’s shine
As endeavours fruit is taken in
Like fragrant mellow wine.
© Joe Maverick 03-08-2010