2026-02-12 Write A Beautiful Carpe Diem Poem — Sponsored by Constance La France
I have a butcher’s at sunlight on skin,
warm, tremulous, yet coolly indifferent.
A sparrow scuttles across sodden turf;
its head inclined, inquisitive, keen—
I smile, imagining its quiet thought,
a tiny philosopher of morning light.
The wind threads through skeletal, bare branches,
stirring peat, drizzle, and smoke from hearths afar.
I inhale—letting it suffuse my lungs,
a private liturgy pressed to my heart.
Time traverses my fingers, soft at first,
like river water shaping unseen stone,
then quickens—sharp, insistent in its beat,
resonant within the hollows of my chest.
I taste the acerbic tang of fallen berries,
feel loam yield beneath soles and marrow deep,
and in this fractured, ephemeral morning,
I recognise the miracle not quite mine:
all of this—fleeting, exact, and unbidden—
asserts its plenitude; I am suffused.
Falling back in the womb of lone darkness,
Not willing to embrace life's bright spirit...
Whispering from conscious hidden abruptness
While growing claws to hunting like ferret.
One aspect darkness never silent is truth,
And it is the only aspect truth likes of darkness;
That shines bright lies to help light interpret Ruth-
Her selfless sacrifice for love is of willingness. ..
How long will it take to forget such care,
Roaming around sky's silent braod despair:
So grief-stricken cum insult,
Of when will there be result
Off probability what hope don't spare?
How chesty alerts,
Keep off while journeying deserts;
Only care asserts
Of the empty memory she kept of him,
Heartbroken yet never seemed a victim.
The root of all ignorance is the I-thought,
where our capsuled consciousness asserts itself,
that thus in a web of fears and desires caught,
bemused by narrow agendas on heart’s shelf,
knowing not who we are, we flounder about,
like a dead man walking, the mind filled with doubt,
so if we truly wish to obtain release,
in tranquil silence, flow like the morning breeze.
ego so proud
asserts loudly
to cloud soul’s light
Skirts
With comforts,
Hollandia Yoghurt flirts...
Before each tongue diverts,
From the usual that alerts,
The change to an impromptu concerts,
In different stages of many a song asserts
Except for the atmospheric dive,
Our faces depict the shared skirts
Without sweet scents, breaths hive
Swaying gallant statues in style alerts
High concentrated inebriant consumed
Took our legs lightly easy leaning back
Subjected to change of hits well costumed
Our voices disown its pitches to its crack
Introduce us to the people we know not
And we mingle like been known for ages
It wasn't true but lively moment grown hot
Speaking truthful lies unlike most sages
Happiness
Staged liveliness
Interrupt able orderliness
And introduce apt funniness
In order to promote calmness
Actively seeking to warm night dizziness
Through the beauty of tease staggering fitness
Of our hearts pouring out raw felicity's queasiness
Chews the food that revitalizes life,
Brightens my face with beautiful smiles,
Voices my joy and quietens my strife,
Takes away sorrows, halts my trials.
Talks me out of situations so dire,
It designs me into a gentle man.
My mouth asserts love to those I admire—
Hence my union has a long lifespan.
Pen prepares its blood with quiet intent,
Flowing with words that embrace no cliche;
Its spirit starts to pump the heart's content,
Beginning with inner insights to say.
The ink's voice shouts with neither sound nor noise,
Creating calmness inside the bold mind;
The soul's silent scream still seems its best choice,
For the right meanings hiding there to find.
Shrouded images sprout in clarity,
Springing with fragrant flowers of wisdom;
Brightly bringing beauty to pure poetry,
As the author asserts his true kingdom.
Golden goal greatly gains its priceless prize,
As wonder wakes up the sweet sleeping eyes.
Her crayon box of dreams has at last grown
up and she no longer colors outside
of bound'ry lines, nor into stardust thrown
the rigid rules of ancient social guide.
Her crayon box of dreams has faded now,
somehow turning color into dreary
shades of brown, fading into shadow's vow
of docile living, forever weary.
Her crayon box of dreams asserts itself
in midnight madness nightmare scapes that flash
the wild kaleidoscope of her once self,
and into colors if she dares to splash
her crayon box of dreams again shall grow,
and rigid rules shall into stardust throw.
A little kindness never hurts;
helps heal and often mends.
Your care soothes and diverts
pain of family or friends.
A little kindness never hurts.
When helping those with needs-
sad frown to smile converts.
Gifts of words or deeds
by selfless acts, comfort reasserts.
A little kindness never hurts.
Your gifts- large or small;
a card, dinner, fresh desserts-
or just visits can enthrall.
This giving of yourself asserts-
a little kindness never hurts.
November 19 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Acts 18-20
Key Verse – Acts 18:9 Then spake the Lord to Paul in the night by a vision, Be not afraid, but speak…
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR PACIFYING US
FROM BEING AFRAID
Praise be to God for pacifying us from being afraid:
Cheering us along His comfort
Calling us inside His contentment
Caring for us through His compassion
Communing with us around His concern
Commanding us for courageous commitment
Acts 19:8 Praise be to the Lord for persuading to
prioritize His kingdom that:
Affirms His authority of heavenly approval
Advances His assembly along holy association
Acknowledges His armory upon high accountability
Asserts His assured arrival toward our hopeful anticipation
Appreciates His acts for our attentive, authentic, and active adoration
Acts 20:21 Praise be to the Saviour for
helping us testify about our faith toward God along:
Repentance from sins
Rejoicing for secured salvation
Refreshment with satisfying sufficiency
Restoration against sorrows and sufferings
Revival of spirituality for service through the Scriptures. Amen!
November 19, 2024
A pen who never bleeds blue nor black
As the changing shades of a clear night sky;
Bleeds blood, ever deep red
As a sword who fought million battles.
He never reveals his tale
But it is to be remembered
And will be remembered.
He sets aright others' lives
Make corrections, make amends.
Unlike his kin, with a white skin
The correction pen, bleeding white;
He never hesitates to unveil blunders,
Others made;
Only pronounce them, guiding them
To learn from their faulty footings.
The White King asserts:
" I, who, hide his flaws
Flaws of juvenile origins;
Grateful, he is, to me.
In his life's canvas,
With no scars to be blamed for,
He starts anew.
Turning the hourglass,
To let his scars go into oblivion,
Never to be seen again-
To him nor the others
With a history anew,
He starts afresh."
The blood sword, now spoke
He voiced his voice, as he said:
"Let your wrong footings stay,
Learn from them; grow."
The Middle Eastern watch
As the Zionist regime tries
To assert its territorial area
Territorial integrity now threatened
They unleash terror on their enemies
Its called the holy land but why now
In the name of all that's sacred and holy
The continuous strife and endless wars
They talk of Abrahamic faiths at loggerheads
Be it though that The Lord is a Man of War
But why is it that us humans can't coexist
Even when our religions preach peace
There are always undertones of war
Call it Jihad or a Holy war.. blood shed
Is still abominable.. when did human life
Cease to have value.. now bombs drop
Then the retaliations are organized daily
Then the entire world watches the fever
Praying the virulent middle Eastern fever
Doesn't spread into the entire region
Praying that 'The end' will not come soon..
Even so the Word asserts come soon Lord
organic form asserts its need
partaking of the elements
there is of course no harm in this
provided we be void-centric
radiating light, drenched in bliss
the chin chakra asserts its presence
holding erect all energies in firm focus
there is no effort applied by us of course
magnetism steers us along the bliss locus
with mood and mode spontaneous
we delight as bliss pulsations within rise
the doing is done as of will of Divine Mother
we receive the gifts of grace in childlike surprise
Never annoy a woman who carries a pointy sword.
She who asserts herself, has the best life.
And if the sword is there, you know she is not afraid to use it.
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