My experience learning to drive was possibly lack of confidence. As iI went to a driving school; three months, not every day. Nor with friends or companion. I never knew if I would be a good or bad driver. My instructor,
only pointed to the things I didn't know. One of which was the parking brake.
That is crucial to know in driving. My guess is that I either needed more time
behind the wheel; daily or time to get over my fear. Too late! At any rate, I can't now, I'm 82, and time to get off the road.
I don't think I was given the ability of alertness. One needs to have that. I can't ride a bike or skate either. However, I am very creative.I can paint or draw by coloing. Write books and poetry; assemble greeting cards. This takes particular attention to the brain. So, although I can't do mobile object things, I can do something, that brings people closer together.
455.
Prayer Against Drunkenness
Oh Father God, deliver us from drunkenness
May we be overcome by mental alertness
Oh Lord Jesus, save us who are like Noah
Grant us the harmony of an orchestra
Oh Holy Spirit, rescue us from intoxication
Be our soundness to maintain our concentration
This we ask in our Almighty God. Amen.
-12/20/2015
(Dumarao)
*Gideons Prayer Poems Against Life Problems
I’ve been sitting here since Wednesday morning, I cannot believe my lips.
Caffeine falling off the edge as I write.
Caffeine filling my body with alertness as I exercise.
In the morning, it was coffee to start my day.
During break it was an energy drink.
At lunch it was a spot of green tea for stress relief.
At the gym it was a preworkout
At dinner it was Earl Grey before sleep.
If a lady that was feeling tired would give me a kiss then her heart would jolt from more than the spark of the kiss. It would jolt with the caffeine from my love felt kiss.
Then we were running in teens :
I was his Valentina, he was my Valentino
I had firm faith , that he was mine.
Smoothly our romance to grow.
Days were passing, no confusion .
Budding youth in ardent amour
Drinking desires ! Vibrant passion .
Two young hearts on graceful glamour.
Me open-minded, innocent
and influenced by your smartness.
No question for a moment !
Just callous, lacking alertness.
One day you left casually,
just telling to meet by tomorrow.
Days, months, years passed actually -
Till waiting, to greet with ‘Hello !’
You sent me to Fool’s Paradise !
I trusted you as my lover.
But a betrayer came in guise
to hit with black Excalibur .
Journey of life through thorny bush,
chased out any expectancy.
Always melancholy to push,
Sinking in despondency.
Up at the roaring sky,
Twinkling stars say hello;
Though dawn draws nigh,
Yet sky's face brightens so.
Hidden is moon's face,
Among them all- sparkling stars...
Though its reflection has such trace,
Yet stars glow on it many scars.
The brilliance of the sky tells,
Nature's beauty beyond art.
Though to sketch such spells...
Skills talent learn to rare heart.
Open mind lonely wonders of God,
Oh so great is His doings to all men...
Though mystery to men seems odd,
How reasoning puts all into its den!
Like the bright morning stars' lights...
I miss out of lateness in bed's fondness,
As eyes watch off cautionary delights¡
Awaken by clear sky's light alertness.
I pour out my heart; empty doubt.
I fly my mind at zero; fill conviction...
And stop my wandering eyes scout,
If it won't cling unto its addiction.
As much as I try,
I switch from sky to sea.
My eyes did cry...
To learn from a devotee
In order to swim at ease,
So to avoid early goodbye...
Or be labelled an escapee
By luck gets death's sea dry.
Switching modes:
Holds up grace,
To learning right codes ...
To run through such race.
Sun Rays dance on my Bed.
Sunlight arrives early
A few friendly rays
Sit on my duvet, warming it.
I pat the sunlight
Still half asleep
Trying to remember the night`s dreams,
Is difficult,
Before they slip under the radar
Of my alertness.
I do not write any deep poetry.
Only light things enter my mind.
Water in the car
checking the oil using the dip stick
And air in tyres.
To think, a week ago, my heart stopped.
But the ambulance people
Got it ticking again.
Spring and sunlight, yes, this will be
A beautiful day. s
In these parts,
Heavy dews cover fields and lawns;
It's very hot and humid in summer;
There are no breathtaking views,
No snow-covered mountains, no waterfalls;
And the weather changes rather rapidly.
In these parts,
Surrounded by trees, corn, and beans,
The canopy covers me from above.
A paved road separates me from the beans,
And sometimes I'm being held captive, it seems.
In these parts,
Black birds, dears, occasional sightings of doves;
Heavy commerce fuels the passage of trains.
And dark clouds provide plenty of rain.
In these parts,
Silence and bird songs are tonics to keep us sane.
Touches of God help control heartaches and pain,
And alertness is demanded by highways with 2 lanes.
In these parts,
Rural nights of captivating darkness,
Sirens, horns, and roaring traffic
have been arrested by the quietness.
Perhaps it's different where you reside,
And perhaps you like it best where you live.
But that's the way it is in these parts.
Sheer sweet delights appear as gossamer nets,
unseen, unheard, not felt with no regrets,
floating on puffs of wind to catch in your hair
before you care to know that they are there.
The warmth of dawn at sunrise.
The laughter of glints in eyes.
The taste you get before you bite.
The jolt of cold feet bare at night.
The déjà vu clicks down memory lane.
The heartbeat lilt before you kiss again.
The wind foreseen in quiver of leaves.
The thunder felt before heard in eaves.
The stings on a cheek as snow flakes land.
The sneaky touch of child's hand-in-hand.
So let the sheer ephemeral delights come,
to see what taste, feel, hear and see, can become
when you set your awareness alertness on high,
to savor the kiss of bliss that floats on by.
waking up in the dead of night
we notice our form is bliss energised
signalling the master has been at work
even when our conscious mind was asleep
so assigning no meaning to play of magnetism
we rest quietly in a continuum of attentive alertness
neither seeking nor negating any offering of grace
since to do either would amount to interfering
therefore mindfully maintaining the balance
we remain thus poised in vibrant stillness
bilocating between form and space
Written: April 29, 2024 For Regina Regina Mcintosh Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meeting her will drown me with her love,
It will express pride and bliss from above.
Her glance involved an ambivalent dream,
Her smile is ambrosian whenever we team.
I will cry with her and soothe her fears,
Lend her comfort and wipe away her tears.
Her love shakes my soul with an auric beat,
Love blooms amid a full moon in aquiver heat.
When I fall in love, I will bestow my all,
It arises during alertness, sleep, or crawl.
As an ariose bloom, I am free in her grasp,
Time slips in her hold, as love vows a clasp.
When I fall in love—I cherish every turn,
Under the pretense of perpetual concern.
With a look and a grin, you had me awed,
Heart fire, in love—descry mist, not flawed
As I fell in love—I will miss her as she left,
In every departure, my heart grows a cleft.
Two souls lost in heavenly love now merge,
Love anew, with each dawn submerge.
With an impulsive cognizance of the mother instinct
In physique and psyche, with her lambs, she's lovingly linked.
Her head-butting, as though she looks furious, does not hurt.
Her bleat is rhythmic, like a harmonious bass concert.
Like a mom lauds her kids, to lambs the ewe show her love.
As human spirits, is an ewe's soul, sent from above?
Cultures, religions, histories, and theologies praise
Of her flesh, blood, and veins, the science artfully portrays
Symbol of life that flows from human-divine alertness
Isn't there, in an ewe, a unique peacefulness?
Harmony of wily innocence and witty shrewdness
O ewe! You're a magnum opus of divine fullness.
Lindsey is Olde English for “Linden Tree by the brook”,
A tree universal, celebrated in many cultures being namely,
Doctor Tree, of Health, Feminine Arts, nook,
Of soothing calm, Light, Truth, an amulet tree,
Its deep shade is a knowing look,
Friends see another, marriages be happy,
For Heart shaped leaves do hook!
A Linden was at village centers,
Parks, Hospitals, court hearings,
Lining many noble’s garden shoulders,
Litigant conciliations endearing,
Testimony credible, curing opponent smolders,
Body ailments, “Quarts of Hurts” rearings,
Colds, skin blotches, spasms not enduring!
Volcanoes of bees, honey exquisite,
Perfume fragrance, edible leaves,
Salad makings requisite,
White or yellow tiny petal cleaves,
Linden shade hosts visits,
Motherly care, compassion sheaveings,
Fidelity, fraternity, matrimony, humble wits,
We need more Lindseys less poet leavings,
Lindens increase peace & alertness,
Be a Lert, we need more Lerts!
Go on,
I dare you!
Press me just one more time.
The alarm rings out,
Disturbing my slumber.
Dreams of sunshine,
beauty,
Sex, darkness.
The cold reality cuts like a knife.
Startled into sudden alertness.
Yet, in this harsh awakening,
A little ray of hope.
A tiny flicker that all will be ok.
That the new day which has dawned
is not so urgent.
Go on! I dare you.
Press the snooze button
just one more time!
The Lion and the Gypsy
For some, life is simple in raw assertiveness,
With no disarmament of conscience and alertness.
Beneath a moonlit sky, a heartbeat from closed eyes,
The wild beast presides with power over life.
Sleep, child. Water to drink and music to compose;
Let the restraining odour fill the lion’s nostrils
Whose appetite is satiated and mind, perplexed,
Questions itself: “Is it living or is it dead?”
The gypsy, tranquil, reclines on the sands of time,
While the big cat is stymied by its unresolved find.
His, the will to survive with the instinct to kill and eat;
Hers, the want of love to create and the desire for peace.
Where now destined the lion and gypsy shift,
The outcome determined and the conclusion swift.
***
Note:
“The Lion and the Gypsy” is an ekphrastic poem perspective of the 1897 painting "The Sleeping Gypsy" by Henri Rousseau (1844–1910).
He often rushed Russia's famed vodka
He had proudly named Bad Armoured Car,
Mouths daring to find the like in bar
Of the same strength and Field Marshall's Star.
But on alertness was set for a fall,
Quick to hear a call and kick a ball:
A strictness rearing for sure collapse,
Darting glances spotting the sure lapse
In a once decided strong bedrock
With a most formidable lock...
Jamo is no more The Real Terror
For every observed abjured error;
Now heads of hundreds to ruminate
Over a new chief to nominate...
For a ship with no space for doomed drunks,
Come defence time down lying like trunks.
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