Wizards are called the wise and powerful.
Merlin is the most famous of all.
They protect with pride and honor.
They hold all of English history within their blood.
Merlin was foretold of Arthur before he was a teen,
Because he knew this had to be held in secrecy,
It was too dangerous for mortals to know.
Kings and Queen rule kingdoms,
With the guidance of Merlin.
Merlin sees and knows all.
One vision showed Merlin a golden sword,
Indestructible and winning many wars.
Only answers to one mortal person of this realm.
Zeus himself magically and powerfully formed it,
From each rib of Ares and Athena.
It stands beyond time, space, and the future.
Her name is Excalibur; she is honored, guarded and,
Kept by the Lady in the Lake.
Only those with true and pure hearts can wield Excalibur.
The Lady of the Lake calls upon the Amazons or Valkyrie to,
Help protect Excalibur when needed.
The true owners of Excalibur are the Queens of Olympus,
Yet only loaned to Arthur to save England from France.
1
It's sad, the fad, to genderize Our Maker:
Amazons aside, History made men Movers, Shakers
But is it dad's fault, the sin of God?
2.
I will trust the Jesus account; He showed "Abba"
The Father whom He enjoyed communion with!
But before Jesus, Jews whispered YHWH
3.
Don't take it for granted; Matthew 6: Jesus's prayer
"Our Father in Heaven," not Mine alone, the Saviour
Wants equality and "siblings." Please read John 15
NOTE: Before Jesus walked this Earth and taught, Judaism taught God's name was so sacred, one could use only THE TETRAGRAMMATON or the 4 letters YHWH, to designate Him. Jesus called God not majestic judge Jehovah, but ABBA, or "daddy" in Hebrew and left us The Lord's prayer, beginning "Our Father."
The dog barks
Amazons parked
In the ally across the way
Sakes alive
Boxes arrive
Each and every day
The way to shop
Until you drop
Is simply keep clicking away
What i love
further in this life,
It's woman...
woman of any
creed, race and color...:
female,
femme.
female...
long hair
firm ideas.
woman is formidable
pure mother,
sweet girl,
beast, feline that
attacks and defends,
as the panther in the vision
male...
Always present
always companion.
is occasionally fragile,
other times
she is adrenaline...
night female
fiesta girl... fatal
or simple
homemade...
Several types exist,
quiet homes,
bossy matrons,
family matriarchs,
mounted amazons
everything is wonderful...
other different types
are models that appear,
are pin up hanging,
women displayed...
Arrogant socialites,
dazzled
nouveau riche, and others
fighters...Joana Dàrc
of life...
the poor women,
the excluded poor,
no vote, no dowry
no right...
Awkwardly or not awkwardly
there is no other way...
want it or not
angry, not angry,
no dispute and no fight,
the woman is all nice
is the best in this life...!
The aggressive ones argue with the rules.
They spike the balls, making us look like fools.
I am not good at returning, and horrible at the serve.
Come on! Let’s play volleyball you say, if you have the nerve.
Frankly I don’t, all my memories are sad.
I was one of the worst ones. Ask my Mom or Dad.
Do not ask my grandma, for she’ll lie through her teeth.
Pretending I could do anything sporty. She fibs over and beneath.
I do remember wishing we did not ever have to play it again.
The ones who were out for blood were Amazons ready to win.
They despised the short ones, especially my sister and me.
We had wobbly arms. Neither of us could serve, you see.
So many will have memories of glory and fame.
They were probably eight foot tall and had a cute name.
My sister and I used to slink off all ashamed.
She is Volley. I am Ball, neither of us twins aptly named.
Unicorns and Amazons
chasing in a derby race;
what a noble thing for us to see!
Saint Peter tapping-out the rhythm
whilst old Gabriel leads a tune,
and Saint Francis sings harmony!
Mary and the Ladies hence-
spin and play
making and baking!
The Heavens envelop
and Eden's times are warm-
Man, Earth and Love!
Rhymes that make no reason
seem all splendid in this season-
betwixt has made the scene!
Jesus site beside His Father,
and ponders with the children-
dashing as a noble Prince!
Could things be any Grandeur?
I smile to myself that a robot just told me off
Do you have an Alexa?
Or an Amazon?
These are virtual companions
That can
Wake you up
Tell you the weather
Play music
Or white noise
Tell you jokes
Keep you company
You can ask questions
And she will answer most of them
We have Alexa’s and Amazons
all over the house
an Alexa just said
Alarm was not set to me
In an I- know-more-than-you will-ever-know-voice
A few minutes ago
Making me smile
Told off by a snotty robot
More than a robot
A true friend
As parents we just love to hear
our baby say their first word
But in this technological age
I’ve just read something absurd
I love to hear babies babbling
But will this news story vex ‘ya’
The baby didn’t say mama or dada
Its very first word was ALEXA!
Are the parents just seeking notoriety ...
Or is this a poor reflection on today’s society
Poem inspired by this news story
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5803039/Mothers-shock-baby-sons-word-Alexa-Amazons-personal-assistant.html
6/5/18
The sky is cracked tonight. The moon slips through and the clouds dance across her slender back. I’m hunkered down here for the night in an arroyo filled with pain and I wait for her.
Knowing she will never come. My fingers lift the sand and I let it pass between them thinking about time, time that runs out. We are all just passing through this place. But I keep waiting for the sun to cry and the crow to fly. My passion has no anger. I lost it a long time ago on an island filled with Amazons.
I see myself walking and turn around and face my shadow to see if it knows me. It’s always there even at night. It just doesn’t show itself. Scared of the dark it trembles at the light.
I crawl up the canyon wall, rocks and dirt crumbling and falling to the floor on this lonely place I have brought upon myself. Sometimes I wish that I could bend but I’m the other kind.
Someone told me once that if you’re in a hole stop digging.
I’m not digging I’m climbing towards a light that doesn’t exist. Even a dog has it day.
Tomorrow perhaps I will have mine.
From Gem stone to lime stones,
Diamond rings and gold teeth,
To big arms, arm strong
Heartless minds and cold stares,
The feel for warmth
No friendly harm,
To lions and chimpanzees
Fight for evolution to river streams,
The dry crispy lands
Animals as friends, love to dare
From deserts to amazons and tropical lands,
End of entry now just
countries and boundaries, but no exit!
Humans in the jungle,
High class and stampedes
Skull and cross bones to crosses
Live a life, die right now.
A MILLENNIUM DAY
Unicorns and Amazons
chasing in a derby race;
what a noble thing for us to see !
Saint Peter tapping-out the rhythm
whilst old Gabriel leads a tune,
and Saint Francis sings harmony !
Mary and the ladies hence-
spin and play
making and baking !
The Heavens envelop
and Eden's times are warm-
Man, Earth and Love !
Rhymes that made no reason
seem all splendid in this season-
betwixt has made the scene !
Jesus sits beside His Father,
and ponders with the children-
dashing as a noble Prince !
could things be any grandeur?
at the niger chambers where a pensive-calm
dwells amid nature and the hill-top lads
– the mouth-piece of the serene clan! –
where as many a lonely weaver she stands
o, where the now-weird homestead stands
– the epitome of native caves and mounts! –
’tis like a confluence of cabals that clenches
our world, a new world deep in the forests;
aloft of the ancient world of weavers and eaglets
an ancient world of the mother of the amazons –
there! we wait! the microcosm of new maidens!
– the new mouth-piece of a new serene clan! –
a confluence of mere cabals clench’ng our clan;
o, drum for these lonely weavers of the forests!
ah! ’tis blue azure greet’ng the dark maidens
dancers of the ancient drums of my warriors
yea! the ever-ready danc’ng mbari maidens
o, dancers amid the smooth-throat’d hunters –
’tis like an ever-flow’ng rhythmic drumm’ng
of my ageless clan where the rever’d eaglets
made the classic olympia in wing-drumm’ng
amid the love-rov’ng griots, pages and priests!
and your mother – the mother of the amazons
waits, waist-bent, amid the ev’r-wait’ng gray-hairs –
and your hunters naked, ready-pois’d with guns
and panthers snarled under the scorch’ng sun-rays;
o, the gladiators and amazons came along my banks
ah, bring’ng this eternal dance-step to niger’s banks!
Hurricane is a battalion of ghosts
Soldiered by retired women of war
The Amazons and the Catherines
To subjugate the great America
I have been here, the touch of the rose petals under my feet...The drink of lotus wine, adorned in white lien and gold... Behind the veils , in the temples of Abydos ... The scenes replay.... Flicking like wish candles in the whirling winds.. Scents of Myrrh ascend, as the priestess chants, spells of love... Amazons rides the waves of sand....
I have been here, welding the sword on the battlefield of Mongols ... Under the thunderous hooves horses, salty blood flowed, in glory and valor of, Genghis Khan..
I have been here, crystalline Kama Sutra, frozen in time.. The of dance of creation.. The Tantric courtesan spreads her sensuous legs, in service to the Ruby Maharaja....
I have been here, young crippled boy, holding the banner of atonement.. As he limps in procession of saffron cloaked Buddhist monks...
I have been here, full circle.. Cleansing the lives ,the field ,the heart, in the truest core of being.. The Web ebbs and flows... Earth Bound again, the cycle of life continues...
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