Uproariously running like the stampede, these cats huge saunter near me luckily I found this marble next to my wallet, both the money and wallet are big cat varmints like silky trespasser near and dear this marble acutely registers you dear.
O Lord, teach me to pray
The 'come what may' prayer.
There's the longing of aching souls,
Acutely bothered by inward roars.
Well informed of being born for eternity,
Deep inside our souls, there's no mystery.
We do not rush in where angels fear to tread.
We long to believe and walk in what you said.
We also understand destiny and sovereignty,
And that time seems both a rush and a hush.
O Lord, teach us to say as the psalmist,
This is the day that The Lord has made;
I will rejoice and be glad in it.
I must confess. Some things I ponder.
I am acutely aware of God's wonders;
Yet, often I stagger at the sound of thunder.
I must be wise as I ponder lest I should blonder.
In all things, God is most pure and ever sure.
I understand that some things we must endure.
I understand God's beautiful 'Balance of Nature'.
Yet I, often act and sound nieve and immature.
Why was he there?
What did she want?
He is not homeless;
But she lies at my entry.
I know that he too has purpose;
Purpose assigned to her by God.
Yes, I realize that we must coexist,
But we do not have to be friends.
I have seen 5 of them in 4 years.
I try my hardest not to be paranoid.
In addition to other preventive measures,
I have created within me a mental plan.
I consider snakes both armed and dangerous.
Therefore, they will never be welcomed by me.
My best weapon is prayer for God's protection.
My next best weapon is my 'Awareness Program'
“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.” ~ Mark Twain
My greatest fear is death -
and yet, it is my greatest comfort
until, too acutely, I imagine it.
My only defense is to pretend it doesn't exist.
The thought alone gives a devastating chill -
that I will not exist.
That there will be...no me.
I will be as if I never was and will never be,
at least until the last person has forgotten me.
In the cosmic scheme of things,
everything that is or was must die,
as species, too, must perish from the earth,
as the earth must perish from the sky,
as the recycling universe
does the things it must,
and ashes to ashes return as dust to dust.
{Poet’s Note : Second Poem of Set of 5 SPOKEN WORD poems written in SAPPHIC STANZA }
____________________
Trust is substance of things hoped for truthful
kaleidoscopic is mythopoeics of Spirit
collective consciousness seeks sensibility
single songs rooted
Ecstacy rests on belief and compassion
inductive reasoning no toil to rich soil
task completion depends on harmony
fulfilment follows
Use alignment of dimensions acutely
Sisters ! impresss subjective on cosmic mind
ether surely holds what is ached for not sold
bold with Absolute
In relationship serve finely each other
allow answers to birth deeper questions
making muddy unconscious conscious to Light
Love is stardust kites
Wise are wise only because they love tender
foolish are foolish because slender is Heart shut
shadows burn when ascension is not earned
fall not into rut
Timeless presence is what we look for, Femmes !
we are thingness of life, seeking I-ness of life
form comes then disappears like pears on trees
let NO-thing come with ease
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Semitic Puzzle
The anti -Semitic problem is one of the most difficult.
It's a problem I grapple with daily, a constant tug-of-war in my heart
and mind.
I’m aware of the holocaust and will defend any Jew.
Against the onslaught of hate. On the other hand
Yet, I’m acutely conscious of the profound suffering of the Palestinian people.
Who lost their land, and what is left is being built on by
Aggressive Jewish settlers and the Israeli state are
Unwilling to interfere to protect Palestine. And for those
Those who want Jewish purity have only one conclusion.
The destruction of the Palestinian people. Should this be
The only experience drowned in the Shoah — surely not.
But my time is short, I wait for the famed Jewish deals.
I know it is there in the offering; what is needed is
What's needed is a visionary leader to piece together this intricate puzzle.
Today I will smash the old computer and count the air between us,
I will burn the books for warmth, letting the ashes paint my glasses with memories,
and I will uproot the withered plant, sowing its seeds in the plastic flower,
a monument of memory without growth, an altar of silent stagnation.
I will walk the crowded road, speaking only to silence,
without exchanging a word with passing faces,
for the rules are heavy, and my silence, an unmovable mountain,
under the midday sun, I will seek my lost shadow,
trying to measure my height in absence, a phantom of light.
I will armor the poor, placing them in a ring,
rejoicing in the bloodied glory, a bath of triumph without splendor,
and I will be acutely lucid, proud of my diverted mind,
a mind that dances on the edge of reality, laughing at conventions.
In this lost horizon of thought, I find my balance,
in a world where absence becomes presence, and silence, a song without sound,
for in every absurd gesture, a new understanding is born,
and in every silent step, a world opens, full of magic and melancholy.
Breakfast bells ring
In my stomach and
I go downstairs in the
Room where deliciousness
Resides with care and love—
Kitchen,
I stumble slowly
Sinking the moment all in
I take every step
Tap
Tap
Tap
I'm downstairs
My fingers wrapping
Affectionately around
My coffee mug
Which is also my mate,
Coffee, I pour from the french press,
And it goes like a spiral
Down in the mug as a whirlwind.
And then it goes gently down my throat
When I kiss my mellow mug mindfully.
Then my toast jumps out of the toaster
Like an acrobat,
Acutely lays on the placid plate
Waiting for me to reward it
With strawberries, cherries,
Or balmy butter or merry mulberries,
Or sometimes just like Winnie
I eat it with humble honey.
Afterwards, the backyard awaits me,
I amble amply,
Scatter some bread for my buddies—
Birds and squirrels,
While the wind greets me,
And they all gather round
When I read my poems,
Keeping them spellbound.
Life doesn’t feel the same, My Darling,
Deprived of your passionate love,
Each and every day aimlessly drags on,
Each and every day feels dreary and treacherous!
Days were joyfully enchanting, nights were supremely blissful,
Never realized parting was so acutely hard!
But came a time there was turbulence in
The relationship, a dark cloud covered our horizon!
My heart sank, tears uncontrollably filled my eyes,
But decision, right for both of us, needed to be taken,
although my heart shattered like a broken-winged bird's,
I stood still - not letting grief drown me miserably!
Deprived of your love - is that fully true!
Pure Love is a gift we rarely receive in a lifetime,
We still love each other…I believe, Love does not end,
Cruel fate decides the eventual direction of our path!
Passing of the New Year
We could have had champagne and not Buck’s fizz, but then we aren’t in showbiz. We glorify and harness God’s creation in full spirit, praising his glory. The passing of the year, nothing to fear, his goodwill to mankind, it is without deploration, acutely aware of the labour ahead-January blues, that first Monday does lamentedly lurk, far from jovial or jaunty as work is around the cruel corner. Unadorned is now the room but the fire still ablaze where the cat does lethargically laze. Snow did disrupt December endeavour and to avoid the roads, we’d be more than clever-force winds doesn’t hinder the odd ocean swimmer-madness to those who take hot wine from the beach’s cafe with views of breaking waves which battle the surfers. Many a woman is all too aware that more mincemeat won’t make a tactical nighttime dancer trimmer. A fanciful occasion for many albeit far from a duchess, but prone to impress to celebrate the New Year is without much persuasion.
Each day we wake up with grace
We know not how the day will end
We walk by death time and time again
Unaware of our feet in quick sand
Some of us slowly sink in
Unaware we don’t fret or worry
Some of us are acutely conscious
That we sink and move in various ways
Perhaps quickening deaths grip
Perhaps not if one believes in destiny
We have various choices challenges that
Grab our focus and like hocus Pocus
Our death dance is transformed
Do you waltz beautifully to the music
Do you sing along and try to diffuse it’s sting
Do you embrace and trace your steps
As the death rattle settles in your chest
And fastens like a lead violet vest
Embracing the best and lovingly dressed life dreams
Bubbling upon the quicksand like a silver sonnet
How do we know enough about it to fear
What if the other side is more clear and honest
We all sink in quicksands of life and perhaps
It is the only worthy way to have lived
So put on your best dancing shoes
Lace them up with love
And strut your stuff
May we all be thankful and acutely aware
For two of life’s mathematic mysteries that take place when we share.
This first is a basic fact…which cannot be denied:
how happiness, when shared, is quickly multiplied
The second is a mystery that often catches us unprepared
how the weight of sorrow gets divided the moment it is shared
clunky chunky unfamiliar words
not easily understood due to their tweets and pops
shoving themselves against my dendrite highway
hidden yet acutely felt
dancing the brain Watusi
I wonder if I will ever write again
Unlikely noisy and vibrant mornings
everything was serene, celestial and calm,
so ideal for a spring's afternoon psalm...
when there should have been mourning sounds!
Sunrise had more brilliance as it illuminated all with grace,
it gave no comfort to souls in graves devastated by a cyclone;
they had no fresh flowers to embellish each ravaged stone,
even moonlight couldn't brighten their dullness and disgrace!
The next day the pelting rain fell to break their monotony,
apple blossoms carried by a sudden western wind adorned
the crumbling tombstones left unkept in drenched ground;
the only visitor was a Greyhound grieving his loss acutely!
Unlikely noisy and vibrant mornings,
utter peace was broken by a blaring and radiating lightening,
and as stormy clouds spread across
the atmosphere, Heaven began to weep with human feeling!
J ust. Applied; personal postivity acutely
A s grounded in effort to help humanity
P lacing poseys to alleviate humour
P rosecuting actual effort helpfully
A man among many, hurtful anomalies.'
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