Speak…!!!! And God will honor your faith and make every good thing…so! Amen and Pressing-on!
There is…a spring
that runs through our desert
it tends our aridity…
arrests…our drought.
There is…a spring
that waters our dry frames
and alleviates…our brittleness…
quenches…our parch.
Without it...
we would curl-up and crack
like sunbaked, dry bones...
that have no more marrow.
The name of this spring…?
Love.
The source of this spring…?
God.
EZEK 37:1-14
jmsbell-6/29/2024
Every day till today, and upon this eighth will you pray?
'A mountain of sin,' though that should be.!
Prepare the ground, its the soil for a tree.. Of faith
That will grow' and thrive will enrich; and against aridity
Strive, Youval to rejoice..' Noach in flood.! Harani the
Mountain ' that will not budge?' The Word that was,
And Is to come.' Oh Holy and annointed One! move upon
This man of sin..' open his heaven, go deep in' turn him
Around 1,080 degrees! spin him Lord till he's on his knees!
Break his will, crush that heart of stone, divorce him Lord
From all the sin he has owned.' Call him now in the deepest
Way! ( to rejoice in the promise) and proclaim of
Yeshua in these seminal days.'
Three sister winds,
Ephemeral progeny,
Spawned by the sun's relentless
But passionless heat,
And the earth's inexorable
Grinding rotation:
Sirocco dances across the vast emptiness of the Sahara;
Mistral roams over the rolling plains and briny lagoons
Of the French Camargue;
Santa Ana, mistress of the paradoxical
Lush aridity of Southern California.
Solitary nomads these three siblings,
Never meeting,
Rarely resting,
Always appearing unannounced,
Creating with cold dispassion,
Then leaving in their wake,
Their own ephemeral progeny:
Summits and trenches,
Hills and valleys,
Crags and craters.
Sad reminders of their brief visits
And lonely passing.
Continually shifting,
Eternally sifting,
Maternally treasuring,
Methodically measuring,
As if carefully counting each precious grain
In the sands of time.
Timidity
Tepidity
Solidity
Rigidity
Viscidity
Turbidity
Fluidity
Lucidity
Gravidity
Flaccidity
Limpidity
Pellucidity
Placidity
Equanimity
Aridity
No humidity
the slabs are huge and are uneven
sky horizon that is no longer perpendicular
another line is tangent to the straight line
stability donned its mist suit
it insidiously wraps around the curving walls
makes the mouth of life produce a trembling voice
words that echo slipping through the fog
acidity of knowledge that created a never again
aridity of the texture that covers the earth
greed for how hungry the time is
it's so easy to see mistakes
and see that soon we will all be
on the same painful side of this syringe
I
Hamid spoke of a mountain
See the forest
of Poetry
II
poets plow semi-aridity
with integrity
among words
III
sometimes silent, oft not
mountains imitate Existence
Zen obedience
How bright and jovial is the summer sun
Promising life and fertility
How different the October one
Dealing death and aridity
No longer do we espy a golden glow
Now there is but a dark blood red orb hanging low
Cyclopean with its brooding ,glowering glare
Sinister in its Saturnine stare
It is but the harbinger of a deathly gloom
There to lead Persephone down to her Plutonian tomb
There she will,with Demeter's reluctant assent,stay
Until the shoots of spring come out to play.
What on her disgruntle to sidetrack my dear love-
When by all means all hers are the mainspring of my joy?
Her face; yea, hers, is the mellow effulgence of moon
That sweeps away malaise out of my face
Her smiles are the wellspring of my joy
That deluge me with utter merriment
Her voice is the musical warble of my day
That hum me melodies of comfort and solace
Now all her cascading tears; give them to me
They are the quencher I slurp for my emotional aridity
O ours is the entiwed souls tried-and-true
For all she gives I atone equally
Good and bad we stick like a cockle burr in a sheep's coat
In her galling dejection--when she is as weak as a clay pigeon,
My arms I stretch for her bulwark
And I relieve seeing her guffaw like a first swimmer duckling
Who lay her hassock when she topples?
Or where else on earth is the assuagement to her throes?
The necktie wearers, and flag pin bearers
Combing arcane smiles
With not one word out of place
Colluded to recreate
Pearl harbor's reincarnate
History's wounds slashed by new swords
A mirror of quondam contempt
Semblance of peace sat behind a podium
Truths interstice fogged
Aridity of public sentiment
Proved a deserted nature of love
Thirsty for blood of whom we know not
Patriotism painted from a teleprompter
As cobblers cleaned and mended
The boots which young feet filled
Whilst scoundrels signed a death waiver
For workers to pluck cold limbs
And prepare the fields
Where black gold geysers
Diluted the red stained, hallowed ground
Commissioned were penny whistles
And morts moaning on cue
For quarry men slouched
In the dirt, for eternal rest
Before rhetoric trumped up heroism
The azure above was clear and crisp
Til mercurial darkness was summoned
On desolations blooming row
As pinwheels kept on spinning
At the home of those who plot
Another stratagem, another canvas
To splatter blood upon
Touch me now
touch me here
where things dream
while the sun spoons the moon
Kiss me now
kiss me here
where water meets aridity
whenever soil quivers stone
Love me now
love me here
where two swirl into the wind
wondering into stars and...
Become.
Us.
Wanton words or bits of paper
Flotsam and jetsam or progenitors
Damp squibs or ticking time bombs
Collect..and recollect
Their golden worth, silverfish and all
Revived or transmigrated
To touch earth’s core and zodiac zones
To recreate vibes syncing with a smart sun
On pretty turf bearing its sweet burden
Of coy blooms or breeze bushed
On mornings lying about in yards like spilt milk
Words that wouldn’t miss the woods for the tree
Moving along paths, straight or wavy
Slicing through sheer life
Leaving left and right little islands
Of sunshine or sombre nights,
Bristling,though, with rain on fresh page
The epic stage for an unfinished call
Once left reticulated with a dumb aridity.
For Carol Brown's 'Pieces of paper..A poet's heart'
By: S.Jagathsimhan nair, 14 sept 11
No.1 in the above contest
Rhyme Royal is half as long as sonnet
Maybe more intriguing for brevity
What can be written from under bonnet
With only seventy syllables, test one's ability
Writing rhyme royal during aridity
The C rhymes could be a short summary
New idea to share that's arbitrary
It’s so simple,
like the hue of oranges,
like citrus in the back of your throat.
It burns.
I want to drag his skin through my
teeth,
taste the salt trailing
from the corners of his eyes,
lick the genius from the
slightly-parted, mellifluous quality
between his lips.
I want to drain the green from his
pupils
and the silken-purity silver from the
stars, and
smear it over my face till I
run red with the rawness in it –
until I am saturated with what I most
love.
I crave his mind,
the stormglory-scent of his soul,
the incineration he injects with his
breath,
the fire-pulse just beneath the
surface.
I stand beneath the aridity of some
god-forsaken slice of sky,
and I scream for rain because I
thirst
and I gnaw my own bones as they
ache -
I consume myself with hunger –
and I rip my hair from the root,
matted with longing,
but release no internal pressure.
I become a black hole,
a vortex of clenched fists,
cracking flesh,
his name unfurling like the sun
against the curled-paper
walls of my lungs –
his taste beating
like the oxygen in my blood.
Dried by the arid soil,
Brown brush painted
Upon emerald,
Levanter of anguish
Wafts turmoil,
Breachings now herald…
Exposed foot of crimson,
Bled into crying incisions
Upon this aridity,
Fury of the earth
Kindles destruction, arsons,
The world drowns in debility…
Crimson foot,
You shalt stride a day,
Upon emerald meadows
Your pure blood shalt rear,
Your fragrance shalt endow,
Where fidelity shalt kneel down and pray…
For my country, Palestine
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