Best Confers Poems
Awestruck in its grandeur, acquiescing to mystic of refulgence up high,
Exalted I feel, lauding designs iridescent, upon sapphire blue sky;
As I listen to birdsongs, reverberating missives of sensuous eventide,
Reminiscing in titillation of love, wishing you were here, by my side.
Rippling currents strum, rhythms of river rushing, burbling nearby,
When flocks of birds glide above, swooping and swirling, as they fly;
Where decaying-day dons amber dye, as it slows the reign of time,
Glinting aureate themes of twilight, blushing reveries of eve sublime.
Cotton clouds on opaline fabric, embellish crown of mountain peak,
As sunbeams waltz, with twirling leaves, playing hide-and-seek;
To music of whispers-soft, emanating from tender melodies of breeze,
In sync with mood of eve-romantic, dancing with the rustling trees.
Vying enlightenment of self-actualization, I lie in quietude, supine,
Harboring instincts of erudite mind, dwelling in teachings divine;
Subjugating thoughts unwise, as fuchsia tinges dot magenta skyline,
Where dream-scapes of you and I, on rosy arc of dusk entwine.
Beckoned by your presence-seductive, beaming an esoteric smile,
Your silhouette in yonder revels, flaunting allure of feelings fertile;
Where together we rejoice realms of stars, blissful under moonlight,
As, Venus, the goddess of love, confers upon us a romantic night.
Twilight downs the sun as dreams appear on the screen of sleep
Slips into the subconscious realm and trips a few fuses in slumber
Adapts and clears clutter and narrates and alters the story in kind
Strips and clips a mind full of sentience like an ad-blocking app
When dreams slip into a magical edition it proofreads my soul
In magic Morpheus tenders to soft renditions and rehearses
A new dawn for sanity’s sake and rearranges bedlam in silence
Ties new meaning to fake news and spins alignments afresh
Compounds and rearranges while the curtain slowly descends
A dress rehearsal in night gown patiently waits for the curtain
A sacred orange globe dances with ripples dissected by clouds
Ultramarine parades on the fading horizon of tangerine canvas
As the gatekeeper confers with clairvoyants and hobbling goblins
The mermaids charter the voyage with sea gulls and dolphin as they
Tie holy knots onto the tapestry of fabrication and spirited truths
Sometimes my aspirations and recollections call for clean slates
When charcoal rules anthracite waves draped in sombre veils
Or polychrome splashes beg to hold on to the palette forever
Sleep brushes over karma and vagaries and tames with a stroke
Of restful fortune in infinite renditions of what the future might hold
A life line appears on the horizon anchoring a courageous flare
Regardless of whether my journey explores a secret underworld
Or ships critique onto the blatantly obvious faults in the vessel
Poseidon pumps up the raft as tears and regrets rock the boat
Blows caution to the wind and advises to hold on for dear life
Neptune challenges his counterpart and weighs for good measure
Yet Atlantis refuses to sink and Nirvana sweeps the ocean’s floor
Phoenix gathers soaked ashes while jetsam jumps into the current
When the night parades its blessing the sun resets a new dawn
The moon watches over assorted memories baggage and hope
19th April 2020
Written: October 06, 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While the globe in the morning awakes
The first light of day, a gentle break,
Illuminating the earth's vast expanse,
Unveiling nature's first enchanting dance.
The first gleam of fall leaves, a staggering sight
Painting the landscape with colors bright,
A symphony of reds, oranges, and golds,
A tapestry of beauty that never grows old.
On tea, aged texts, and candles, wake at a touch,
A sensory embrace that means so much.
The aroma of steeped leaves, rich and warm,
Whispering secrets of comfort and charm.
Era books beckon with their weathered spines,
Inviting us into tales of different times.
Their worn pages hold stories untold,
Waiting to be discovered, to unfold.
Candles flicker, casting a soft glow,
Creating a sanctuary, a haven below.
Their dancing flames illuminate the room,
Creating an atmosphere of warmth and gloom.
In this dawn, a tale is woven,
Of cozy moments, sweetly chosen.
Whispers in the air, akin to a gentle breeze,
Carrying the essence of tranquility and ease.
As the day begins and the world stirs,
We embrace the beauty that nature confers.
With every sip of tea, every page we turn,
We find solace in the lessons we learn.
"Phenomonology"
time drips through
the lens of philosophy
phenomonology melts
the solid realisation;
was all that time
spent inconsequential,
the purpose of it all
bought abruptly,
for an expected cost
(for this annal
somewhere soft
and vaseline-lensed,
we anticipate, it is never
an unexpected cost,
we know the cost
of all things eventually),
fraught and contradictory
brought into alignment
with a loose end,
that’s a wrap
and nothing tied,
question mark;
semicolan, pause
avoid that full stop;
simply being before thought
yolk and white separate
cracked and measured
flaws in the reasoning
of existence,
there is no rational
explanation beyond
faith and belief,
monastic pantheists
flinch to the hymns
of science’s abrasive voice
it has its answers for
substance
through the gate racing
on the get-go
phyrronism
scorches everything;
Everything,
raises its hand
palm open – there’s that
measured full stop.
structures of consciousness
shakey foundations experienced
through a First person view
beggars belief
in trust,
yet nothing tangible;
we speak to ourselves
and our internal gods;
Spinoza confers with
some of us,
excommunicated,
we understand that,
in one way or another
and we are just like
the others
but different,
waiting for validation
and logical answers
to form on our tongues
like words we swallow
to speak into life.
in the beginning
there was the word
but before that,
the thoughts;
from the mind
sits Epoché’s nature
Ataraxia
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Anasazi and Hohokam
- by Bob Atkinson
tell me now your ancient stories
so I can feel your power and glory
survive you did in this harsh land
becoming a mystery to this small man
where did you go? are you still here?
tell me of your wants and fears
buildings you made of stone
still stand above piles of bones
did you lay down your lives
to the last because of pride
fighting those opposed
to your ancient way of life
over this land of dusty valleys
swept clean of life as if by water
you carved out of rocky soil
life for your sons and daughters
of those who lived those years
we know nothing more
we see them scraped from the land
was it peaceful or violent horror?
you who no longer sing
those songs of glory days
left us remnants of your cities
to remind us of your closed page
confers to us our wonderment
never allowing our minds rest
where and why did you go?
reason won't be known, but guessed
you knew how to test the ground
dug canals, brought water to dry land
giving seed to harvest yearly
moisture to crops of greenery
you knew facts that life required
by those who live and thrive
in arid lands which never seem
to allow for relaxed lives
ones who have gone before
left us not stories and lore
they keep their lives from our eyes
made us wonder where and why
let us begin the quest
to document that sixth sense
that which makes us who we are
our emotions pickled in a jar
document your current stories
so future can feel your power and glory
how you survived in this harsh land
become no mystery to future man
Cosmic Contract Soul Mate - Haiku
universe at large
opens up, looks down, confers
bug winks back, confirmed
Voyagers, convene thyselves to return, among us...
Caesura, crown nigh clod, a sylph unwept,
elision thy silhouette, meno thy minuet...
Thine late occurence on thee, wake of cerise sand
Thou belief, like a billow, upon your whitish cheek,
'Twas marina bay, her twaddle a garb of mer,
A henchman docks, thy quay, girdles stymie ebbs,
but he cannot dream aloft a dream she confers...
O'er to woo hand in hand, thou overture unto Sirocco,
Plagues thy pirate ships, quakes men with mar,
His and his only demand, an aegis for lagoons amidst...
Once deluged, sun askew above, one abyss of bagatelles
Deters a tocsin, feign mooting mammals, thy kin a boon,
Aquatica, thee damsel for diminuendos, spurns thy sire,
Her gentle mettle, calls thee, His fervor season calentures...
Aloof thy celestial kisser, nay thy nine, vim domiciles solitary
Doomed skulls ravish, an age id by ice, culls thee, for chastity,
Some may not know, we died to have our love live, over and again,
Amity vows posy littoral seaflowers, buoys colonnades of adventure...
thence, cradles await upon matins, sail thy Oceanus genesis, amen.
Bright red is a nice colour to me,
Reminds me of life and vitality;
It is an active, liberating cree,
Which says you can pen your own destiny.
Colour is never lax or passive,
But springs with semiotic meanings,
Evokes feelings energetic or abrasive,
And bright red indeed has very forthright holdings.
Bright red confers happiness and laughter,
And for it there’s always a hereafter;
It reminds me of Coca-Cola and Santa Claus,
Manchester United and road sign laws.
It brings to mind Herbal Essences and Red Bull,
Birds Eye products which have a pull,
The X Factor’s symbol and England’s flag,
Tide detergent and the Walkers crisp bag.
I had a bright red polo shirt,
When I was a hopeful teenage squirt,
Which I proudly wore, so glad,
That could save me sometimes from being sad.
Bright red often makes a statement:
Which is very rightful establishment;
Because to be bold in life is to know,
And to direct can simply be to say hello.
And of course red is the colour of blood,
Pumped by the heart in a rhythm,
Which grips us with love in a flood,
Repudiating hurt and brash schism.
The human body was built with a stretching ability. Skin and muscles are very elastic and prepared for adversities. Bones can be fractured and broken, but mends back in time. Ache me; bend me; mend me; brake me; mane me; pain me; I bounce back. Everything within me connects, communicates, and confers with each other. But I am wondering about 'the goings on' of a can of corn, if dented. If a dent is made in a can of corn, does it force the kernels to draw closer together? It's like this. While cleaning our food closet one day, I overheard a most interesting dialogue between designated speakers for the corn and the water.
"What just happened here?" said the whole kernel can of corn to the water in the can. "I felt a deep stump that shook us as you moved like a high tidal wave." "I know! said the water, it was as if someone just threw us into a large tote of other cans". "I don't know what's going on here, but I sure wish it would stop. We have feelings too?" They seem to care more about a dent in their cars than one in a can containing their food supply. Go figure".
After a pause, the corn kernel said, "Anyway, the dent they caused just took away some of our already crowded space. Moreover, I suspect before long someone will come looking to eat us, notwithstanding the dent in the can. Until then we'll just have to deal with the way things are. "On the other hand, said the water, they might decide to eat us as a last resort, like when things are bad and money is tight. In that way we'll last longer. I must say that as a result of our can being dent, not only have we both been stirred, but we have been forced to communicate like humans do. Maybe we'll also learn to bounce back like humans". And the corn kernel said, "Perhaps so, and I guess if you are going to get eaten, later is better for us."
12242017 PS Contest, Dented Cans, John Lawless (Personification)
“All that is Seen and Unseen”
Out of the Logos
the unseen is seen
through a metaphor
delivered by
the precursor,
a man who
lost his head
out of chaos
divine reason
creative order
a spark ignited
and spread
the electric conduit
is the second
of the three,
and the word
became flesh
seen as Light
in him was life
and the life
was the light
of men
Unseen in the dark
confers the
Animus and Anima
reigning in the
collective unconscious
sentences forgotten
read as if in a dream
the second of
the three
is sent to judge
the quick
and the dead
Out of the Logos
the unseen is seen
through a metaphor
delivered by
the Precursor
a man who
lost his head
Nicene
forever and ever
like apostles,
are men?
(LadyLabyrinth/2020)
Nils Frahm - Says
https://youtu.be/dIwwjy4slI8
“qui conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, natus ex Maria Virgine,
passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus,
descendit ad inferos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis,
ascendit ad caelos, sedet ad dexteram Dei Patris omnipotentis,
inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos.”
(excerpt/Apostolic Creed, Latin)
1. The Logos - as “Metaphor”
1(a) https://www.gotquestions.org/what-is-the-Logos.html
**
1(b) http://berithroad.blogspot.com/2012/06/metaphor-of-logos-word-in-john-1-1-14.html
**
2. The Logos
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logos
3. The Logos (Christianity)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Logos_(Christianity)
4. John
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_the_Baptist
5. Nicene Creed
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicene_Creed
6. Apostles Creed
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apostles%27_Creed
7. Animus, Anima
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anima_and_animus
‘Ma’ the delightful word for every child,
Bears no words to express its significance,
You’re current’s flash and tomorrow’s gift,
Life is incomplete without thee.
A child of six months,
Verbalize the first word ‘Ma’,
The time he sleeps in your lap,
He relaxes, the world is secured.
You’re the first essence of being.
There to guide and tolerate every mistake,
You’re the one after supernatural being,
Always protect child from perils.
You’re only who never bothered about,
The risks and bridges of life
You have the potential to face death,
But even a scratch of child may kill thee.
Why don't you care about your diet?
At the time of shortage of food,
Why you always sleep without having meals?
Although provides enough to your young ones.
No time, we find you becoming stressed,
Manage every thing in a calm manner.
You’re friend, teacher and chef.
Always equipped to support indeed.
From you, the human race begins.
Till the last gulp of air,
We promise, give thee respect.
To repay love, care and fondness,
Every soil confers your smell,
Shows how great you are
Without thee, we are no one.
Grant a huge salute to ‘Ma’.
Dedicated to every mother
My father is now pitching the bottom of the ninth inning.
We need a few more tests to determine just how many outs he has left.
I had the opportunity this past weekend to visit him on the mound and ask him how
he was feeling.
“I still feel like I can get them out” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting Cancer to come
to the plate.”
Nobody was.
My mother has caught all nine innings and she still remains the receiver of this
battery.
One of the seven fielders behind him had to leave the game early and awaits him in
the great beyond.
We all wait anxiously for the scouting report to help us determine just how to attack
this batter as he steps up to the plate.
We may be able to throw fast balls and get him out with an operation.
Or, if he has spread out too far, curve balls, chemotherapy and radiation may be the
best approach.
Or, if he is too formidable, we may just need to intentionally walk him.
The test results will help us determine our plan of attack.
Regardless, however, my father has pitched a masterful game.
I tipped my hat to him as I returned back to Seattle while he confers with his
battery mate and waits for the test results.
All of his fans are now aware of the batter he faces and all have risen to their feet in
applause and gratitude for the way he has played the game.
I learned this game and much more from the old man.
I would consider myself a blessed man if I could manage to play it half as good as
he.
One thing I know – he will face this batter, be it his last or not, just like all the
others; with a smart ass grin on his face and the assured confidence that it is he
who is the better man in this struggle.
Go get him, Dad.
Regardless of the outcome, it is already known that you have won the game.
We couldn’t be any prouder of how you played it.
I am glad you get the chance to hear the standing ovation – you deserve it.
Incredible thoughts
unimaginable conjunctures
section 214 (b) confers the desire
for immigration to non immigrant applicants?
Under stated will
when you assume one leave home for good
for a barren land not theirs
to be a non entity, secondary to all;
Why would one go
if not for the pleasure and friendship
force anyone to care for them
if one is just a pauper in his life with no work;
What can bind one
to alien land for even that month
and seek immigrant status
when they can't stay from their home within their country.
Love to respect
are magic words we always relish
you can place barriers at will
Only I know my intent was pure: but how could you?
Falling leaves
Paragraphs wind blown;
Telling a story
~~~~~~~~~
Two carrot cakes
Different recipes;
Delightful outcomes
~~~~~~~~~
House work calls
Busy with home work;
Fastidious hands
~~~~~~~~~
Watch what happens
Random rain wets;
Harsh heatwave irrigates
~~~~~~~~~
Yes once again
That time of year;
Haze adds colour
~~~~~~~~~
Geopolitics confers
Conflict confronts calm;
Uneasy peace
~~~~~~~~~
This great stretch
Sea and boundaries;
So many claims
~~~~~~~~~
Difficult choices
No middle path;
Fumble taking sides
~~~~~~~~~
So much here
Activity consigns;
Cash like ammo
~~~~~~~~~
Profound question:
Why ask why?
So many times
~~~~~~~~~
Cheery children
Play prunes prank;
Laughter frolics
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
09 April 2016
Singapore
Try these tips from Scripture to add more joy to your life.
Give three compliments every day
“Like golden apples in silver settings are words spoken at the proper time” (Proverbs 25:11).
Look for the silver lining in every dark cloud. “Even
though you meant harm to me, Eternal God meant it for good,
to achieve his present end, the survival of many people”
(Genesis 50:20)
Make the best of any situation. “We know all things
work for good for those who love God
Who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Tip generously, give freely to beggars. “He who
confers benefits will be amply enriched, and he who
refreshes others will himself be refreshed” (Proverbs
11:25).
Say, “thank you,” often. “In all circumstances give
thanks, for this is the will of God for you in [Father] Christ
Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Sing in the shower. “But I shall sing of your
strength, extol your love at dawn, for you are my
fortress, my refuge in time of trouble’ (Psalm 59:17).