For certain my gut feeling was telling me stories, abbreviating decrees filling my soul with sunshine
My heart was a rock but now the tender care is specified freely from your heart, feeling my heart with gladness
I am confident that you are always there
Every waking hour
Your love is there all the time and without reservation
I knew I did not have a great life and was getting by okay
By knowing you and getting closer to you, you brought sunshine to my overcast life
Your gypsy soul light up my world with your gently radiant smile
Everything is so pleasant and new
You made me safe and untouched by neither morning or noon
Fixing lights and matching them with my laughs of breezy sunshine
Each day is golden and more still than the day before
You are my calm and languid sunshine and faintly made us grow even when the storm hangs low
In my eyes you will remain my sun and my greatest source of light
Making me nervous and giggly like drums escaping the sound of the music to my ears
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Those eyes trapped between thick lines of kohl, frigidly stare
But yet glued to the screen.
Those eyes tire with the glare
But are possessed by a power unseen.
A hundred emoticons fast as a pulse
Yet none stir her expression less face,
Nor, was there a moment of impulse
As she typed with a practiced pace.
She did not not notice as a breeze blew her curls,
Nor when the screen blurred her eyes,
She was busy abbreviating her words
Finding solace in a world of lies.
He painted a rosy escape, dragging her to the edge,
The edge of an abyss, an abyss of his love.
His words lifted her, prepared to fledge
Far away from the chaos above.
The breeze failed to stir a single ripple in the abyss
She dreamt of gliding through it
Soaking in its bliss;
For as long as fate would permit.
She waited on that very edge, where she was told to wait
The edge, where her heart beats too fast.
She curls her toe, undaunted by fate
His love, she knew, would have it recast.
Hands of Time
Written: by Tom Wright
1/25/2018
Time is a commodity which we all possess,
But each is assigned contrasting amounts.
A commodity that man cannot suppress,
It’s what we do with our time that counts.
Time always dances in an unchanged direction,
Abbreviating life with each departing day;
Minuscule nanoseconds make our collection,
Only God can extend or diminish our stay.
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away,”
Job 1:21 KJV
As a clock's hands are advancing forward,
By cubits time is abbreviating our stay.
As incoming tides are rushing shore-ward,
We busy ourselves doing things our way.
But God made no provisions for reversal,
We ought get matters precise the first time.
Our earthly days are only our rehearsal,
For that futuristic eternal city sublime;
From death, no escape, no turning back,
But some won't face this earthly demise,
Until the rapture we fight Satan's attack,
With eyes affixed on that Heavenly prize.
Matthew 24:44
Text Speak--A newly developing dialect whereby the speaker can convey a lengthy thought by abbreviating phonetically or through the use of substitutive characters.
Any attempt to speak it out loud is both impractical and unusually difficult,
Hme skoolled
Nvr took nglish
lrnd on cmptr
:-)
omg luvd star wars
brb
ok lol!
Translation:
:-) I’m happy
brb- be right back
lol –lots of luck
That English man with an English tongue
Abbreviating the world into song
Nothing he wrote was ever long
And yet to every piece the sense clung
Making English days and place
As close as home to us, the student
Of form and letters, and art still argent
Used words naked without the lace
Of liquid emotions, he would tell
In tones of heaven the truth of hell.
He is my brother still beyond verse
And sweet the days when we converse
Of Byron, Keats, or Wordsworth
And felt the rich embrace of earth.
Always did I pray his pen write still
And that his English fire never chill.
You start abbreviating the pretention,
caring for the end of a perennial revenge –
of slain truth, finding depth in arguments
which will spawn more violence.
Come my friend, come. Sit with me.
Let us search together the solitary
death in living past. Ultimate space was
a great deception of the eternal silence.
Clayey mood again depicts the pain
between your moons. I go for a play in dust
of time. The beats of heart will not wear
a sword now.
One hope finds a moon-belt on the hills
where the shadows walk with stars.
I will wait for the sun to rise.
Satish Verma