Best Accords Poems
It was deep dark, silence roaming outside
if I couldn't see and hear, it is myself to chide
the urge within pushed my fright aside
time to open the gates of my soul wide.
My journeys I used to have on my own
seeking sheer thrill in my serene zone
for what I painfully miss, I strive to atone
thriving when every ounce in me is full and grown.
The lure of a wonder seized my powers
breaking through my walls and towers
an ocean unearthing my grain and flowers
weeding out what is in my soil ugly and sour.
What reached my soul was so profound, so austere
it is beyond my feel, something I awe and fear
the mysteries in books were to me so clear
and in life, through deep darkness unable to steer.
To raw Nature I carried my tribulation
along with a torturing silence and lamentation
seeking spiritual guidance and revelation
Almighty God, help me not to succumb to temptation!
And here I am, with my words touching my solid earth
carving a clear voice of woe and mirth
aspiring to feed an inner sense of worth
as an avid reader accords my poetry a rebirth.
There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me
The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest
& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers
There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys
There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted
There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove & Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search: For Soup & Treasure-Trove
Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !
There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay
There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That Sir Lamoureu Pledge
Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords
We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman
Part 1 of 2
Every minute, every hour of each day,
my heart entreats you with longing.
I desire your heart trusts what I say
every minute, every hour of each day.
If God exists, I avidly pray
He accords my desire for belonging.
Every minute, every hour of each day
my heart entreats you with longing.
Every minute, every hour of each day,
I desire your heart trusts what I say.
If God exists, I avidly pray
He accords my desire for belonging.
My heart entreats you with longing
accompanied by true love’s prolonging.
Arm to arm, sinews clutch
One another, makes friend and crutch;
One crimson call, which guidance brought
The feeble, stern: the working lot
To stand much greater, taller, strong
Filled with hope, in lines long,
That stretch from pain, from glum, from slum
To the halls of white where nations clump
In the deadest form of gathered hoards
Of finance and shares, secluded boards
Who array the work, who shackle in loans
Whose empty plots tempt the sleeping droves
In tent and rag, in cough and drag,
From hand to mouth, to work and back.
Yet in contempt that line is struck,
Still the routine is mute, no more this work
That builds the villa, never the mason’s,
Unthanked which blooms the fields all season,
The folks split off by plastic partition
Giving wealth immense, yet maimed cognition
Had kept whom bound to desk and ground
Their eyes have met and their fists now pound
Against steel ribbed doors, but why such fear
Thee lords of land in prim kept highest tiers?
Arisen so, on the claim of wealth,
At the cost of Earth, of hearth and health;
How much more flight, behind guarded holds,
Behind sentries and dictates so cold
Even in scorch of war, where poor kills poor;
So the wealth of nations in tons can pour
Onto odd few hands, to hold all us chained
To the will of profit, for profit’s sake.
But in queues, we’ve come, tools shucked
Your batons brooked, your shots shrugged
By the calloused bossom, by tried spine,
That props all of it up, runs it all in time.
And without us many, your wealth is rust,
Without our trust it’s all a fleeting gust
Of paper slips and accords of force
And we see dawn, from these dues divorced.
And the sun to snatch, the sickle drives,
And the barricades the hammer tries,
While the quill writes, not fearing death,
A push for renewal, for a gasp of breath.
An Outrageous Case of Illegal Immigration
By Elton Camp
We hear much about invasion from Mexico
But the U.S. northern border is the way to go
Aliens can, and do, cross with greatest ease
For proof, here’s an example of one of these
There is a man who comes and goes at will
He has done it for many years and does it still
Since he acts friendly and is always smiling
So, he is given an exemption from profiling
Though his appearance shows he’s not one of us
Without any doubt, he is some old foreign cuss
His strange clothes, thick beard and too-long hair
Show that he comes from somewhere “over there”
Oh, it’s true that he acts plenty generous enough
Friendship he buys by giving away valuable stuff
The government really should say, “What the heck!”
Since on private lives he makes a thorough check
Arbitrary standards of his own selection he’s set
That determine what, if anything, people will get
Should some foreigner ever be allowed to dictate
His own standards by which Americans he will rate
Should an alien establish what’s wrong and right
And be able to do it without protest or any fight?
Where is the outcry from the media or the press
Why is it this outrage they totally fail to address?
The employment he provides sure isn’t here
That he runs a virtual sweatshop is what I fear
According to what a good many people say
He accords his band of workers little or no pay
Since his manufacturing is done practically free,
To American companies it seems unfair to me
It’s unlikely that any tax this bad man does pay
For his workers, a union has nothing it can say
Worse, it is to our children he directs his appeal
To a foreigner their admiration and love to steal
Who knows just what his ultimate goal might be
Shall we wait passively and hope to finally see?
No! The time to take action is now well overdue
With these illegal border crossings we are through
Since it is well known when Santa Claus usually flies
The government should shoot him out of the skies
The Word of Eternal God
Which is the power of Eternal God for salvation to everyone who has faith
Is set forth
Displays its power in a most wonderful way in the writings of the New Testament
Which hand on the ultimate truth of Eternal God’s Revelation
Their central object is Jesus or Father Christ
Eternal God’s incarnate Son
His acts
Teachings
Mission and glorification
His Church’s beginnings under the spirit’s guidance
The Gospels are the heart of all Scriptures
Because they are our principal source for the life
Teaching of the incarnate Word
Our Savior
We can distinguish three stages in the formation of the Gospels
The life and teaching of Jesus or Father Christ
The Church holds firmly that the four Gospels
Whose historicity she unhesitatingly affirms
Faithfully hand on what Jesus
The Eternal Son of Eternal God
While He lived among men
Really did and taught for their salvation
Until the day when He was taken up
The oral tradition
For
After the ascension of the Lord
The apostles handed onto their hearers what they had said and done
But with fuller understanding which they
Instructed by the glorious events of Father Christ
Enlightened by the spirit of truth
Now enjoyed
The written Gospels
The sacred authors
In writing the four gospels
Selected certain of the many elements which had been handed on
Either orally or already in written form
Others they senthesized or explained with an eye to the situation of the Churches
While sustaining the form of preaching
But always in such a fashion that they have told us the honest truth about Jesus
The fourfold Gospel holds a unique place in the Church
As is evident both in the veneration which the liturgy accords it
In surpassing attraction it has exercised on the saints at all times
There is no doctrine which could be better
More precious
More splendid than the text of the Gospel
Behold and retain what our Lord and Master
Father Christ
Has taught by His words and accomplished by His deeds
But above all it’s the Gospels that occupy my mind when I’m at prayer
My poor soul has so many needs
Yet this is the one thing needful
I’m always finding fresh lights there
Hidden and enthralling meanings
1242015
Subtraction
If you subtract your bad self,
In every way, every part as best you can,
Then you’ll find better health,
And other people won’t suffer a ban.
You will add something onto,
Your character if you resolutely control,
Your ego, there’ll be binary two,
As a friendship bond will fill your bowl.
Fractions are always negative,
When you are the irrational number,
‘Cos you vector line affirmative,
Has malfunctioned and objects thunder.
The matrix lain out, pure physical,
Is real and determines all your decimals,
But a point that’s not whimsical,
Can be proven by algebraic relationals.
You need to duly remember,
Not to mess with your quantities or mix,
Your subtrahend remover,
Is not space for glee, and not your bricks.
The difference made, ensuing,
From putting your vectors back in line,
Can give the segment pursuing:
That life building on your minuend divine.
Events cumulate into war zones,
And you can’t take back your cruel words,
So just inverse your ring tones,
To add affection to your partial bon accords.
Your integer rhymes in reason,
When the natural is plainly detected,
So when you offer treason,
Just order on, your associations respected.
You keep money secure thank you bank
Financial institution you are high is rank.
Accepting deposits you create credits see,
Honey is collected too flower thanks bee.
Keeping people happy you share interest,
This may be compound this may simplest.
Bearing mortgages also you provide loan,
At due time you collect due is too known.
Of their current liabilities under torsion
Liquid assets are equal to only a portion.
Under policy of special gazette of nation,
Fractional reserve banking rules relation.
Liquidity in minimum capital you ensure,
Basel accords base you then us you assure.
Moving around you I observe the bankers,
In material life money matters say anchors.
Diamond you keep, silver you keep gold,
In safe locker all keep ornaments do hold.
Old you are new you are I hold inner core,
Values, virtues are my wealth feels chore.
Management of selfless banking is shown.
Safe banking I do on line on myself own,
I am soul the original bank of power light,
Supervisor of my bank is God is very right.
There were warning signs proclaiming "DANGEROUS CURVE AHEAD!"
But no one paid much attention to them as on they recklessly sped!
On that treacherous stretch was a bend known as "Dead Man's Curve,"
Where many souls began their eternal bourne because they failed to swerve!
Other signs along that mountain road had more profound things to say,
That should have alerted folks to slow down ere there'd be a price to pay!
"PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD!" was erected by the Presbyterian Church,
But speeders ignored that sermon and met their doom for failing to lurch!
"ARE YOU PREPARED TO MEET JESUS?" admonished another sign.
This one was sponsored by the Baptist Church and was nailed to a pine.
But this homily went unheeded and many guys crashed through the railing,
Sailing o'er the thousand foot cliff, their auto, the desert floor impaling!
"THE WAGES OF SPEEDING IS DEATH!" read this creative message!
The Happy Valley Church of God had posted this not so subtle presage!
The Pentecostal Church's warning sign read "REPENT ERE 'TIS TOO LATE!"
'Twill ne'er be known how many ignored that hint, rushing to their fate!
The valley floor below was strewn with wrecked Buicks, Cadillacs and Fords,
Dodge pickup trucks, Happy Times motor homes and four Honda Accords!
On that winding stretch 'tis best to heed signs regarding "Dead Man's Curve"
Ere you join those hapless souls who met their doom 'cause they failed to swerve!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Sons of Memory (For those among you in the soil)
I render this verse to sons of memory
Who have been trailblazers to the history-
In poetry world and many beyond.
I doff my hat to you in your lone ground-
Where words deafen world but dear to your wall.
With all sense of commitment I snowball
For this age to re-elevate your name.
Let it accords your hands the deserved fame
And trails your paths in and out and with lines.
Should this age will spoon satisfactory spines.
Friday February 28, 2014.
Dedicated to all classical poets and writers of other genres
Who have gone to the great beyond.
In winter deep, my daily Wordle
accords five-letter words new life
and brings a smile, if not a chortle.
So, with a smile, if not a chortle
a brief respite from worldly strife
a sojourn at etomology’s portal.
For at this age, I know I’m mortal
and life with obstacles is rife
but will five letters be my sortal?
Yet is my questing truly moral
if I resort to Rhyme Zone’s knife
shall my last gasp be ever glottal?
For if a smile if not a chortle
graces visage of kin and wife
tis my verbiage near immortal?
In winter deep, my daily Wordle
provides a momentary relief
in five letters, my daily Wordle
can bring a smile, if not a chortle.
After July abdicates, august August arrives,
and the year advances, as annually agreed.
After assessing alternative alternatives and accords,
as anticipated, no other affirmative alternative is advanced.
Actually August is always an annual actuality, affably accepted
as amicable and always awaited ardently, as July avidly absconds!
Anxiously active actions advise August adherents, to atrabilious accordingly,
as days are abridged and abbreviated, around-the-clock! Slowly
as all administrations adjourn, advocates abort all agonistic argument,
as analysis of aforethought Acts are advanced, and addendums
are amicably agreed. After appropriate and amusing accolades are accepted,
all approve of appeasement, as another additional accidental adventitious
activity appears! August is always appreciated and advances, as aide-de-camps
award and authorise aristocrats and actuaries, to amalgamate advertising agencies,
although angry animosity always aggravates, angers, and aggrieves
anti-agreement antagonists! Assuaging angry aged academics and agents,
aghast at angry animosity, always attracts acrimonious atrabilious attention.
As an acknowledged antidote, an amusing anecdote is always acceptable,
as an agreeable anaesthetic appetizer, and allaying fears. An atmosphere
of aggravated argument, also assures all august, August activities are
axed and abolished abruptly, as September appropriately and advisedly appears!
Adieu, Adios, Arrivederci, Au revoir August and Amen!
Rhymer. September 1st, 2016..
Your words took my breath away,
As I read them.
Knowing they reflect your love,
What is in your heart,
As if you reached deep into your soul,
Bringing out your deepest feelings toward the only one,
The one that holds a key to your heart,
And the door to your soul.
The one that soars above all life that hears mute things,
That understands the language of flowers.
Such a divine creature that she is,
That is honored with purest essence,
One that is blessed in eternal ranks,
Ranks of sanctified legions,
And blessed by all that admire her very presence.
Now as sunset rays enfold,
And the night swallows all light of day,
Even more love is felt, reborn in thy lofty room,
As we come together again bringing sweet fervors,
Knowing our passion will languor our mortal bodies,
As we turn into limpid currents of a love made in heaven.
Her body fair governs sweet accords,
Seduces all your senses, melting your heart with emotion.
Her flesh so soft and silky, with perfume drifts of forest scents,
Like natures tantalizing incense.
Powerless now as your hands gently stroke the back of an angel,
Caress the hips, the ample breast of such a divine creature.
All that is, is no more as love aspires, swoons over an infinite oasis,
A sea of love, where heavy breathing and ephemeral pleasures,
Shimmer with a love reborn.
Calm and bliss, life sleeps as the moonlit night abounds.
"To the young and the not too old,
I say, follow that rainbow, go ride it."
-- Lee Kuan Yew
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reach and attain that dream you seek,
Aim with brave heart that glorious ride;
Inscribe and gain that distant peak,
Nurture fine art to best the tides;
Be willing then to sync with flow,
Observe fond tact and spread your wings;
Work rainbow span where dreamer goes.
Do groom grand act as dream now springs,
Realise the gift daring accords,
Excel the way of pursuits grand;
Answer and lift what zest affords,
Mindset shift pays you brilliant trends;
Exploit the dance of pristine heights,
Rise to the stance of rainbow light.
Leon Enriquez
05 July 2015
Singapore
The blue hour takes root ...
There is the dark wing of the steamer,
Which takes the open sea, and carries away its regrets,
Tiny passengers, waving handkerchiefs
And the seagulls passing and passing again.
Heavy rusty chains, in heaps on the edge of the quay,
Puddles where the clouds pass,
In which dead leaves are diluting.
The evening is maritime,
The sun is still clinging to the cranes of the harbor,
Which seem aimless,
And on the summit of the trees.
The freshness already slips on its silver soles,
And it remains a few moments, on the water
The wake of dreams.
It doesn't wait to dilutes itself in oblivion.
The boat came out of my field of vision,
Perhaps a point, hidden behind the buildings of the mole.
The wind knocks at my window.
A bus goes up the avenue, almost empty.
The silver stone of the moon rises from the horizon.
The muses escaped.
The blue hour takes root,
I put a disc
And from the piano, Chopin chords.
These are the "Nocturnes".
They soon overtake the reddish mists:
Ultimate bursts of a day that goes out.
---
( translated from french )
---
original text:
----
L'heure bleue prend racine...
Il y a l'aileron sombre du paquebot,
qui prend le large, et emporte ses regrets,
des passagers minuscules, agitant des mouchoirs
et les mouettes qui passent et repassent .
De lourdes chaînes rouillées, en tas sur le bord du quai,
des flaques où passent les nuages,
dans lesquelles se diluent des feuilles mortes .
Le soir est maritime,
le soleil s'accroche encore sur les grues du port,
qui semblent désoeuvrées,
et sur la cîme des arbres.
La fraîcheur glisse déjà sur ses semelles d'argent,
et il reste quelques instants, sur l'eau
le sillage des songes.
Il ne tarde pas à se diluer dans l'oubli.
Le bateau est sorti de mon champ de vision,
peut-être un point, caché derrière les bâtiments du môle.
Le vent frappe à ma fenêtre.
Un autobus remonte l'avenue, presque vide .
La pierre argentée de la lune monte de l'horizon.
Les muses se sont échappées.
L'heure bleue prend racine,
je mets un disque
et du piano, s'égrènent les accords de Chopin.
Ce sont les « Nocturnes ».
Ils devancent de peu les brumes rousses :
ultimes sursauts d'un jour qui s'éteint.
RC