Best Enjoyments Poems
The brightly colored houses lighten my emotions.
The cobblestone streets encourage by shaking the worries away.
A town on the ocean's edge, aware of the power of nature
yet at peace. Time undulates and ebbs with the tide as life is carefree.
Historic restoration, reminds us that living has not changed really.
Life, birth, death and taxes continue along with joy and sickness.
Passion and love are old as time. The river meets the ocean and the ocean never
overflows. Seagulls and pelicans stay by the salty spray; dining each day on fresh
seafood. Seagulls run and play on the sand dunes for fun.
Tourists come and go leaving behind a few dollars to keeps the town thriving.
The tall tales grow each year for pure pleasures sake. It is alright with me,
charming stories make my return more interesting. There is a melody of enjoyments to be had in the city by the sea.
For Charles Melody
It never is too late to start
Pursuing what you dream.
Listen closely to your heart...
Allow your mind to stream.
Do not let status or age
Instill crisis within you.
Successfully turning the page?
Only if you decide to.
All of us when we are younger
Wish that we could be
A certain someone - this, we hunger
For innocently.
Many of us follow through,
Becoming with ambition.
Life goes on for others who
Do not reach such fruition.
Time, effort, determination...
All of which are needed
Concerning a qualification
Being earned - succeeded.
When it comes to a career
And all of its deployments,
Necessary to hold near...
Your passions and enjoyments.
Caught up in our daily lives...
Succumbing to routine.
Suppression of ambitious thrives
Which go unheard, unseen.
Commonly, what was desired
Is lost or forgotten.
Their fruits from a tree inspired...
Now, fallen and rotten.
At any given time, this tree
Can produce and provide
More fruits, of which you are free
To choose in your decide.
Will you come into your own...
Take up what makes you clever?
To say the least, this much is known...
Better late than never.
Blessed by God as a full-blooded Filipina
I’m endowed with great cultural heritage of Asia
Distinctively that of the Benguet “Kankana-ey” tribe of the Cordillera
Enriching my country, the Philippines, of her unique role in the global agenda.
Grateful am I to the Lord for my tribe’s awareness of the Deity
Shown by my forefathers’ acknowledgment of the Supreme Being’s authority
Thru their festivities and rituals revealing their trust in the God Almighty…
Igniting my faith toward genuine Christianity and biblical spirituality.
I salute my tribe mates for their respect to creation and steadfast preservation of nature
Affirmed by their diligent gardening and productive, yet prudent farming venture
Making them stalwart guardians of their environment, their bounty-pasture
While invoking the Divine Providence against calamities thru sincere offerings’ gesture.
Gladness* couples my appreciation to our tribe’s close family ties and intimate engagements
During bonding moments over cups of coffee and meals along conversation merriments
Especially in clans’ get-together for weddings and feastings’ enjoyments
Aside from reunions in funerals filled with reminiscences of varied sentiments and predicaments.
My tribe with its peculiar culture is commendable indeed
Steadfastly strong in its identity of tenacious influential creed
As it welcomes changes of betterment and prosperity’s seed
Midst technological development toward progress-breed!
*Psalm 4:7 Thou (LORD) hast put gladness in my heart...
December 1, 2018
3rd place, "TRIBUTE TO NATIVE CULTURE" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 12/15/2018.
Time can be defined as the experience of events between birth and death, and our
lives, I think, are defined by the association of friends and family who shared those
events. The quantity of events which are shared with them builds and defines the
depth of our mutual relationships and strengthens that mutual bond.
As the bond strengthens with each passing event, characteristics such as trust, respect and admiration are created and incubated in the blending of those traits. We come to expect and take for granted that sharing ... and enjoy it to its fullest.
Then ... after years and years, the bond is broken by the Call to the Other Side.
The void that Calling leaves is an open, searing wound. We tell ourselves that the
individual called is in a better place. We tell ourselves that whatever degree of stress
they felt is: no more. And ... those things are true. However, large, entire sections of our lives feel as though they've been involuntarily ripped from our being. Future
enjoyments of their camaraderie will never be constructed. The pain created within
ourselves at their loss, is selfish because we've become so accustomed to the joys
created by the sharing with them of each of our lives that we fell we "owned" it - but we didn't ... we only shared it, and now we feel betrayed by its absence.
In the final tally, the things which can never be eradicated from our minds are the
mutually created images of those events which helped define the lives we lived - and
shared - with those who assisted in its' construction.
Remaining are the memories as our personal chalice which contains every conscious
happening of our lifetimes, along with those who shared it - and our minds will sip of its' contents whenever reverie, and thoughts of them, demands.
EASTER
King of Kings,
And Lord of Lords.
And He shall reign,
Forever and ever.
Are these not the words of Christmas?
Did Jesus lose Sovereignty after His birth?
Do we just forget this through the year,
Does the Son of God lose His worth?
The Christian Faith lives in a Person,
Not just an accepted creed.
He was born, lived, died and arose from the dead,
This is the Christianity we need.
Christ is the personal, Living Center,
Of all things we believe.
He remains the Church's Sovereign,
His resurrection saved you and me.
We know the enjoyments of this life,
The pleasures that come our way.
But the Christian belief within us,
Helps us make it through the day.
Christianity is more than a history,
Of ancient writings told.
It is the very source of truth,
That comforts when we are old.
We are different Christians than our parents,
Who lived a life so true.
They gave the love and knowledge,
That would guide and comfort you.
We are challenged to pass this message,
A belief in God and His son.
So that our children may know and learn,
He truly is the one.
This Easter is a reminder,
Of the Christmas message brought to all.
It took His Death and Resurrection,
To save us from the Fall.
RAYMOND V. MORGAN
(or, "Your Old Stomping Ground")
There’s a secretary that I know
whose husband recently died
But life somehow continues as before
She has to keep replicating the myth
that everything’s all right –
A savant of the copy machines
A mannequin in a megastore
There’s a child that I know
who goes to school with bruises
Just a shell of a thing bearing signs
of a nightly artillery attack
When did we start sending
our kids to the frontlines,
And when in the name of Christ
are we calling them back?
You just pretend
Things aren’t crazy
The bandleader’s not deaf
And the King is not a clown
So you defend
The last vestiges of confidence
And stick your flag in the last square
Of your old stomping ground
There’s a family that I know
they only speak in whispers
Afraid to raise their voices
for fear of an alcoholic’s rage
I wonder how they’ll fare
twenty years from now:
Will they ever rise up from their manacles
or their transparent cage?
And there’s a young man that I know
Has his whole life ahead of him
Still stuck on the diving board
over a pool of unemployment
Just wait a while, just wade awhile
Cling to your inflated promises
While you’re stuck in this limbo, might as well
Drown in your enjoyments
You just pretend
It’s getting late now
And the party’s letting out
The stragglers and the drunkards head
for another port of call.
Yet suspect the hosts, the powers that be,
in their senility, misplaced our keys
So we derelicts wander directionless
Like half-ghosts bumping into walls
But we just pretend…
LUSTFUL YOUTH
The world is filled with vanities
The lust of the eyes and flesh in entirety
Behold how the great and mighty has fallen
Because of beautiful maidens
The daughters of Jezebel have been equipped
To strip every man his pedigree
Our youth have fallen victims
Just for a night fling
Youths who ought to be roofs to nation’s building
Are now nothing, but fools in area meetings
Unlike wools made ultimately for knitting
The youth has lost their place in divine space
And they have also relocated from Heaven’s gate
Awaiting the choice of fate
Masters has been reduced to servants
Heirs have lost their place with their father
Why waste thy years
And tomorrow be in tears
In the name of wordily enjoyments
Why sell your tomorrow?
In order to live for today
When will you answer the call of the creator?
Turn, from your lustful desires
The word of God is all you truly require
For eternal life and peace in paradise
The eagle soared pinnacle high
above Fingal-- wide-winged,
darting his beak between fabric
cotton-tops and a few glass drops,
a'fallen from the cobalt blossom
Below, from inside the grey
gravitas, echoes of mica and
glass laughter shattered the throes
of torch-heightened shadows--
like white smoke-stacks, puffing
from the lips of rose-gold champagne flutes
And later, as the swells grew grander,
crossing with belly-flopping slaps
into sea-foamed stones, the eagle
continued his pendulum like flight
back-and-fro, back-and-fro
gliding, like a ribbon of cigarette smoke
While the cavern, shiny and wrapped by blue,
kept separate our rival enjoyments,
like a violin removed from its bow--
but never asked either to avoid this place,
or our chance to pound the earth, and play
August 4, 2016
For contest: Caves
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
The day soul sweeps the air, the knock of tears never benefits, all the
Enjoyments with red alert and maple of crystal cry which doesn't
Benevolent in the morning life expected to surround to sorrow.
The time these fingers feel the pain like the weight of Kilimanjaro with
Shroud clothe is the only asset, thy body used the best perfumes it smells
The air and silent of life is the only option on that day.
Drunk with rivers of milk each morning to monster, the multiple want curved
The day chew the night with regret and sunken face that of your banks
Account unwilling to pay homage despite all the efforts you have been
making for it.
It appears like rot eggs the sky is angry with you where your loyal friends
Used to whisper in your ears no longer willing to drop grain of sand to
Close your eyes neither nor give you the chance to chameleons color and to
let you visit memory lane together.
The time you defused your energies to plant trees that bear bitter fruits
Inasmuch as you got the opportunity to opt trees to bear the dates of
Success, you sucked it with your imagination, now the scent of food is
only for you.
The flowers you have planted is your bonus where harvest dangle of seeds
Separated from the positive ones where your cage of denial demote you to
see lesson.
The symbol of success lies to the days you have paved the road for a day
Payment received and the time sky flies away where your energy no longer
important.
Where your throne of power renders empty service the sound of serenity
Turns you down the joke of the night manifest; it is indeed true no amount of remorse is fairly sufficient to the fable negligence of duty to the dust of your life.
Honest Earning
=============
We earn everything
Reputation, wealth,
Experience, life style,
We struggle to achieve.
What really last forever
Is honestly earned things,
We enjoy all for a period
But honest ones remain.
What we earn incorrectly,
Will prick our conscious,
That feeling alone is enough
To correct ourselves.
We brought nothing
When we came into this world.
We take nothing when we
Go out of this world.
Earthly possession of ours
Is our own earnings
None will accompany us
In our last journey
We came into this world
With the help of others
Others will carry us to
Our final destination.
Why crave for temporary
Enjoyments, be honest
And acquire permanent
Satisfaction in your dealings.
Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
.
Yogi. Arts
Aesthetics
There were
Times such
Disciplined
One trained
Disciples to
Ever Desist
Temptation
Gold & Girl
Lust & Love
Men trained
To overcome
Carnal quests
A sensuous body
Is but a leather bag
A celibate to discriminate
The monk stays unmoved stoic detached
In every woman young or old treat her as Mom
Breasts you suckled your mother’s as an infant
Real men do no seek carnal worldly enjoyments
Covet not temporal beauty that will fade in time.
Yogi seeks immortality
steadfast on the path of wisdom.
the celestial nymphs may cavort before
Temptations wordly. Consider them a test
Gold and Girl. rest you eyes
are delusions. on inner core
you overcome. body beatific
Cessation. is corpse
of impulse. Stillness
nerves o steel. is cultivated
to be attained. Is the secret
in all learnings. and constant
Sacrifice temptations. Yogi has a mission.
sacred thread, mudras and mantras
steadfast Self in discrimination
The Yogi Practices
Brahmacharya or continence to the extent extreme
Religion says- Marriage is fundamental to Dharma
Tantra says - The creative energy is the root cause
Yoga says - Bhramacharya is the essential bedrock
The Gyanis say that true Brahmachaya is not forced
Brahmacahrya is- Staying with Brahma- in whatever
No point in physical abstinence, if mind is wandering
Various thoughts different ways to overcome to grow
so slowly -
I have traveled this way before
crept along this route with deliberate intention
allowing myself the enjoyments that
each next measure brings
savoring the odyssey as if for the first time …
that mindset -
allowing me the discovery around each bend
of sensations, new and inspiring
each twist and turn offering a new reveal
a perspective or feeling or taste
that my previous numberless journeys lacked
how many roads -
do we travel in life?
some over-and-over, in haste
and those footsteps, retraced, so often taken for granted
the world bustling by our window
without notice or regard
yet -
each time I make THIS sojourn
it reveals something fresh and wondrous
a tremor, a flavor, an aromatic scent, heavenly
feelings, sights, thoughts, even sounds, anew
that my previous courses missed
but, oh my -
this adventure!
never again shall I take a centimeter of
this trek as a given
for it is the wandering that matters
oh, the destination holds wonders of its own
but -
this sublime adventure is never to be hurried
for it is made on a vista, divine
a landscape of unequaled beauty and breadth
that unfolds before me in amazement and portent
the sugary softness and voluptuous indulgence ...
inside - your thigh.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Choice 12 Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Assuring breathing for seeing tomorrow
Seriously tick tock and tit for tat the scatted hands borrow
Unfanctioned hairs are shaved daily
Getting the forgettable minds
Lime dunking the flight feathers
Yodle provides core enjoyments
Assassination involvements in the fields
Sometimes sin portray fresh partition
Segregated air taste the flavor
Impossible twist the nose end over
No one to believe the achiever.
Godzilla likes to terrorize
And bring fear in peoples lives
When he took an anger fit
Tokyo destroyed bit by bit
Fiery eyes full of hate
Not one second he would wait
To start tearing down
A big city he has found
And used as a fun game
While hotness and red flame
Rage out of his mouth and nose
Temper rises as he shows
His ability to cause
A lot of suffering and loss
To whoever's in his path
His postalness is growing fast
So run as far as you can
This monsters getting out of hand
And wont stop anytime soon
His enjoyments spreading doom
As he goes on more rampage
Using Tokyo as a stage
To perform a play that will
Go on cause he likes the thrill
They say the world is getting warmer,
but were just stewing in our hate.
Seems pleasure cant come quick enough,
enjoyments always late.
No one seems to sit for long,
to restless just to wait.
The differences between all men,
are really not that great.
We better learn to love,
and now,
before it is to late.
As busy as we seem to be,
seems love just has to wait.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )