It’s not what’s outside
In life, ye tell me, Jasmine,
But only inside
That matters much more,
As many a thing in life,
What matters is core,
And ye also tell
That there’s joy in simplest things,
Plain simple’s thy spell,
Cestrum Nocturnum,
At night thy immense passion
Spreads forth, what blossom!
____________________
Haiku |07.03.2025| flowers,
Note: Night-blossoming jasmines never fail to charm me. Jasmine, they say, was a princess in paradise, in love of Sun, who thwarted her, and she threw her life and died and was born as Jasmine flower, hating Sun to love the cool silver of Moon. Ever since she spreads her fragrance only at night and falls off before dawn. One of simplest and plain looking flowers, all white, six petals, with a reddish dot in the middle, and what fascinating fragrance!
Artist Anders Zorn
typically of Swedish born
He loved lovely ladies undressed
as many a paintings*does suggest
*Girls having a bath
Mind if I tell you, honestly, I’m not
The spokesman for a Holy God I used to be
As time has failed to convince me, the skeptic,
Of righteousness and the efficacy of prayer.
The change has come slowly, over time …
As many a deep concern has gone unexplained
And, as I studied humanity’s gross inhumanity
While the “God of love” stood by permissively
While Jewish babies were slain over open pits
Sweet, older women were hanged as witches
Entire tribes of people slain, victims of genocide,
Wicked men who risen to positions of great power
Entice ordinary folks to forfeit good sense …
And I … I am powerless to make a difference
While the Almighty, like the Deist God, sleeps
Soundly, and his fine creation flounders fatally.
written October 31, 2021
I have always read about the man in the moon
So, I suppose I would have to say the moon is male
Although, the moon has a romantic streak, I’ve noticed,
Which always seems to go along with its being female,
And, many a male lover by the moon has been enticed
As many a sailor leaving port under an unfurled sail--
I suppose we will know what the moon is very soon!
Written August 8, 2021
For “Is the Moon Male or Female?” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Composed in their femininity
Compliant with the slighest
Urge in that delightsomeness of
Miming a bloom, wind-caught.
No less radiantly stately fraught
With one's plucking interest.
Then I came back. Shook awake of
Which stilly - found entrancement
Its ornate vision's, she, herself
Charmed out of me; wife; alone!
To as many a dressed pose, prone!
As much for distinguishment!
My neighbor passed in July but her mail keeps coming. I didn't know why. Our mail boxes are very small. I haven't lived here long and hardly knew her at all. Perhaps her son was too bereft to notify the post office of her death? I tried reaching out to him on the phone but only got an answer tone. Today as many a day before, I gathered up the mail and left it at her condo door. I glanced at it and thought what the heck, she had finally received a stimulus check. Due to the circumstances it's quite funny, is there no oversight before printing out money? Where she's gone at ninety three, she has no interest in stimulating our economy.
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!
Man to Man
Standing tall
Forging a divide
With their backs
Fencing up a wall
While each man struggling
To erect a solid side
Thus hurling their words
Over and above the sides
Man to man
With Each man
labouring to deliver their world
Through the conceived word
To as many a man
With a fertile heart
Sending each word
as a weapon
to arm the man
It's all the way in the ignorant dark
I have my small steps put forth in my stride
As some light visible beyond blinds arc
Favoring the fear of strife, lest I hide
As many a mind have asked me to cease
For I leave them mine defiant deaf hear
To carve my concepts yet nothing to freeze
Mine spirits arousal lest I do fear.
Who knew when; what exactly excites me…
What agonizes …what inspires truly?
If ever I know, I would have conveyed thee…
For I dwell in doubt … I swear solemnly.
You''d have tried your hand on a poignant verse
If you have known what lie in thine deep tears.
As I stayed by my window watching the reddish-
yellow sunset while the sky was a bit wailing
It reflected onto the ocean as the sun reflects onto the moon
wave upon wave as many a grouped of penguin was
playing at the coastline while some was swimming,
their minds were so free to themselves as balloons in the breeze
Without sign of hatred or distress. What a great
fun they had with bliss; those creatures are of two
colours white and black and some have yellow patches
I watched them for a while and without a notice my brain
embarked on a jaunt of thinking; how their souls
intertwined with each without clothe of discrimination wore
They cheer with glee, without a doubt is from the
bottom of their hearts. Loving and caring among
the old and young without a restriction a flowing stream
and even they at a time bow
This drew me in awe and wonder
In life of human being where moral is crispy dingy.
For miles silence reigns
For years solitude,
My heart is heavy
My spirit low
And I have a long way to go.
In life's eternal journey
I walk alone,
The night is dark
Somewhere yonder
lies my home
And I must traverse
many a silent shore.
I cannot laugh
Try as I may,
I cannot bring
myself to weep,
My joys and woes die
before they materialize.
From dawn till dusk
I have toiled often
gathering the remnants of
my broken dreams.
Before a hope is built
It crumbles down,
Before a wish is fulfilled
Frustration overwhelms me.
I am helpless
I drift through life,
As many a time I think to live
As many a time I die!
Contest: 'Faces of loneliness' by frank herrera
Words
are
Like Birds
They fly out of clear blue skies,
out of thick gray smother,
out of black thunderclouds,
out of serine, colourful sunsets.
Words may be like Majestic, Eagles,
swift and elusive as Humming Birds,
enlightening and silent as wise old Owls,
or as irresponsible as the Cuckoo Bird.
Words may be like god’s, Sparrows,
keen as the Hawk,
permeating as the Woodpecker,
or as elegant as Swans.
Words may be as eloquent as many a Song Bird,
or as beautiful as Peacocks,
they may be like the Flamenco,
or scavengers, like Vultures.
Words may ascend to great heights , or stoop so low.
Words soar into one’s world, upon veiled wings,
leaving their messages to be deciphered
by the discerning ear, the subconscious mind.
Words are dissipated by the winds that carry them aloft.
But seldom has their flight been lofty !!
Words, and one’s word, seldom carries any weight,
for deception seems to be word’s ever lasting fate.
B. J. “A” 2
January 16th, 2013
these places
have keys
the doors are open
you don't need it, the key
what do you want
once you get inside this or that room?
as you sift through these boxes, drawers
room fulls of people, these faces
you only barely see, touch, or smell them...
working them over is easy, you go about
who in particular are you looking for?
any one? what do you want to find?
so many say what you want to hear
some planning their attack with
as many a hand will soften you up
feeding you their figs and lamb
I see how your eyes move to and from
I hear how your voice does that thing
I see how you choose, to walk or speak or not to sing
sometimes displayed above your head
a sign
what are you looking for?
the key that's in your hand
the note that's on the track
where the arrowhead points
the way is clear
what do you want from them
for the moment ....
you flirt for their attachment?
to get close to the knives at the edge of the piers?
to discard someone or to have some
just fall away
others are dragged along
not ever knowing, showing
how you really care
who you really are
12/30/12
The mighty warlord shakes his fist and sends his troops to the abyss
Families broken and torn because of an oath that was sworn
Fathers and sons die in vain but no one can feel their pain
Mothers cry as their children are sent off to die
Innocent blood is shed, does no one care for these dead
Sadness grips the heart of man as many a persons blood stains the land
Cries from the public go unheard as the warlord shouts his mighty words
Kill them all he says, make these people pay
The screams of wounded go on through the night begging for the warlord to end the fight
No answer comes from his high up throne for his heart is cold as stone
Only a child dared to face him
He begged for his people
His words so moved the warlord he again shook is fist this time calling his troops from
the abyss
Families are pieced back together after the mighty storm they have weathered
The child is proclaimed a hero
Sides that once wared against each other now call themselves brothers
Fields are resown and homes rebuilt, no longer does the warlord feel guilt
But nothing can replace the loss of life for that is the true price of war
As many a day
when all obstacles are thrown my way
I awake to bitter sweet reality
where im so happy and yet so sad
so withdrawn and yet so social
so confident and insecure
so real and yet so uncertain
my friends they circulate aroun me
i make there day
but sumtimes it feels that i should not live this day
i want life
sometimes wanting to end it
i feel accomplished and smart
but know my mind has ended
i cease to give up
but i constantly never try
i always laugh and smile
but inside i cry
im so nice
but im a dog that lies
i want so much
and yet deserve so little
nuthing is enough
and i have plenty
then i tell myself
i am me and
i am merry
i think too much
but i admit plenty
i release
all my problems
and that takes courage
so others
will rise and follow.
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