Pass me not, dear heavenly father lend us a divine charm, amongst the chorus, a seeker of the heavens and the earth
Be thy tranquility, glory be to thee, for the omniscience amongst lives and lived metaphorical whence mother earth
Within a streak of a solar pail , an evangelical fenugreek survived a homogenous homebound , a croon , knew me well
A vivid legit outfit , with silky soy within a divine boy arose, a call to an integrity, even whence banished to the deep
A wanderer outlast lasting for the traveler wanderlust , the whim, the outcry and an earnest beseech
A mirage and the unsatiable , a scenic enroute , this lone journey running lifelong a journey to reach
An ending to the day, an ending to the play, the twilight casted a hue , soon to be as truth be told
A mourner and a legend , a proper with a wretched pauper, a tremble about the brink of the unyeilding mundane.
"Where to begin , where to?" an uproar as the peace maker truce progressed
Rush to me, my reverie, humble my soul, rush to my soul, rush nearer to me!
The Lord stood by me and strengthened me
this testimony all believers can truly know
in the most difficult and diverse situations
The Lord Jesus strikes our enemy with His blow
In you, His message might be proclaimed
so the Gentiles would surely gladly hear
that God seeks to save them from sin
drawing them to the saviour who's ever near
No matter the evil deeds against us
the Lord steps in to our rescue
such is our confidence in His love
this God will revive our lives anew
All of this is for one great purpose
to bring us into His heavenly kingdom
so His would be the glory alone
forever be this heavenly outcome
Consider well how great God is
remind yourself of His wondrous grace
how often He comes to your rescue
delivering you, proving God's on your case
Remember your sins from knee-high
all of them till now and till death
Jesus took them on at Calvary
to accomplish our salvation in His last breath
Jesus has paid for them all
shedding His blood for our redemption
never forget His great mercy to atone
loving us so much by His selection
No matter our ups and downs
our Lord remains faithful forever
in all circumstances He does not change
proving His love will always deliver
Be thankful in all circumstances
every day give Him all your praise
for He loves to hear your own voice
sing thankfully for all your days
Jack Kerouac, the 50's Beat poet with this English language style 'haiku' form does just to the western world classic features of the tercet form ..no title ..free syllabics..but the last line keeps to the 'happening' moment that identifies it as 'hiku"
Canadian born Jack Kerouac
a poet of the 50's 'Beat gen' pack
Known for his western 'hiku'
keeping to its features then so new
stream of consciousness spontaneous prose
how his famous 'on the road' novel flows
813.
Pa-Ranking Ko sa Pebrero 17, 18, 19
Pebrero 17 ng taong ito
Aking inasikaso
Sa group chat ang mga issues ko
Pebrero 18 ng taong ito
Aking inasikaso
Sa CapSU ang BSEd GWA ko
Pebrero 19 ng taong ito
Aking inasikaso
Sa laptop ang MS Teams ko
Para sa Pa-Ranking ko
Sa DepED-Roxas City ngayong Pebrero
Ng taong ito.
-02/28/2022
(Dumarao)
*Pa-Ranking Ko sa Pebrero
Looking up his biography I found Octavio Paz Lozano (March 31, 1914 – April 19, 1998) was a Mexican writer, poet, and diplomat, and the winner of the 1990 Nobel Prize in Literature.Very prolific & slightly surreal in style he is described in the write up .So 'what are my thoughts about this poem,'you ask...firstly ..it recites very well &.
secondly it reads as if it is a recurring dark nightmare..& so very surreal indeed.
Janet is his darkest addiction,
His will is her every command,
A live erotic girl to ease up all of his afflictions,
Filling up, and stocking so many golden jars
Pleasing her like he’s on a mission
Reading that upside-down book or opening her up
Just shadows who dance to the same rhythm
The chains are there and yet, they are really not
Her erotic petite frame is a forbidden symbol,
The best things sometimes come from the dark
So perfect are Janet's pink round nipples,
He loves it most when they are in a clamp
He tells her to pick up the biggest *****
To spread them up and then go really hard
To possess the live girl while the screen is on
Adoring her like she’s a sensual black cat
Worship her as if she truly is yours
A connection filled with fantasies and wants
Just fill up that cannoli it’s that simple
But first open those lips and then eat her up
Owning the live girl like it’s so legal
Enjoying that secret view is a must
Sessions depend on how well you treat her
Appreciation always takes you quite far.
Raven Archer
Shall I compare thee to a hunter skilled?
Thou art more fluffy and flearidden:
Rough winds do not shake thou steady gaze,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a pelt;
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shine,
And often is thou fur untrimmed;
Yet small rodents are but divine,
But cat’s evolved everchanging limbs;
But thy eternal hunter shall not fade.
Thou’s opals are like owl’s.
And such, thou is feared in sunlight and the shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as rats can breathe or their eyes to see,
So long lives thou claws and gives purpose to thee.
Dust floats in the air
drifting powerlessly.
Nobody knows they exist;
I suppose you could call it freedom.
Except the world loves commotion, the bustle,
and there is nowhere for the silent dust
to settle but upon the floor,
no fate but to be trampled.
It leaves just the desert sand waiting for flowers,
just the forest bench waiting for love,
just a cold toastie, waiting for the oven.
Just me, trying to let it all go.
I guess I can still propose to my shadow.
Waves of tears wash over me;
they force me to breathe.
In.
Out.
Then they are gone,
leaving me alive but somehow emptier than ever.
Hollow.
What even matters anymore?
I'm just me,
I'm only me,
only the ashes of a fallen firework.
Why would I care what the world thinks?
I can feel the wind dragging me away,
so light, so weightless,
just a speck in a storm.
Can you stay just a little longer?
I know you won't
but it's okay.
I don't need it anymore.
“Know me as free from the all and from the details composing the all. I have neither illusion nor freedom from illusion. How shall I speak of such rituals as morning and evening devotions? I am free from disease - my form has been extinguished.”
Body-mind is akin to a car we drive
but knowing we are the driver, not the car
though no doubt ego helps us to stay alive,
we are untainted spirit that bears no scar.
We neither sit down to pray nor meditate,
for bliss pulsations within do not abate,
so be we manifest or unmanifest,
the core of our being is always at rest.
“The supreme Reality is devoid of the undivided and the divided. The supreme Truth is in no way within or without. It is beyond causation. It is not attached, nor is It any substance. I am the nectar of Knowledge, homogeneous Existence, like the sky”
Beyond space-time or within polarised
This verse asks us to consider the third
Where be cognition sized or vaporised
We are considering a state unheard
Is this wherefrom pure intent arises ~
Is this the source that ushers surprises
bulldozers
quiver the forest orchids~
fragile democracy
18.
Intended Coincidence
Bossy Jessy bought a dish of chicken curry
Comes out he from fastfood in an unknown hurry
Steady stony head and chin up he goes
Spare not from dog neatly gleamed shoe toes
Intended coincidence bursts funny fury.
-01/06/2007
(Miagao)
*Topsy-Turvy Limerick Ironic
Tis but 7 days
till the coming of Christmas.
Not a hint of delicate snow
just dreary dreary pellets of rain
that gather and laugh with cold disdain.
But look closer still:
Inside the festive lights
that sparkle blue and white,
past the inflatable Santa's Ho Ho Ho!
and behind "Under the Mistletoe" -
listen.
It's the laughter we hear
not white nor frosty
but it rises through the brittle air
warm and golden,
like grandma's gingerbread.
Footsteps To Tomorrow
You don’t know where
you’re going
If you don’t know
— where you’ve been
(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)
Defanging The Devil
For all evils
there are two
remedies
— vehemence and time
(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)
Catch 22
The professional politician
where statesmen learn to lie
The professional politician
— where freedom goes to die
(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)
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