Best Haver Poems
Doth thou Parle the night's
Vastidity?
Wouldst be thine haver of thy
Uneyed, thought-sickness strewn umoving
Travels?
Ratherst, it be that, it is thine
trade-fallen quarters; thine debt as
the Militarist is mete by the
Languish bestrewn on thine epochtic mind.
The morrow breaks...
Writing affects your brain!
So all I want to do is write craftier and harder,
Using supercharged thoughts, converted from quantum data,
Letting it rain, running through my veins,
Seen, then caught by my Pen and paper that’s always on me,
The greater angels oversee thee,
In possession of the master key,
Fallen angels, demons, detect and pursue with greed wanting me,
So they can see what’s foreseen, by this writers understanding intellect,
So it’s time!!!! Weighty refined rhymes for the intellectual elect, on cloud nine,
Like Tetris, placing written strands in unity as motion proceeds crisper,
The earthly “menace to society”, with whispered inwards idea’s from the word gods,
Applauding the poetry lord underdogs, fast forward and pause,
This brains the world’s future source and the chosen land,
Literally the wisest literature outbursts expanding like the universe,
Taking it back, diverse and old school,
Home of the jewels but still dwelling with satanic obstacles,
These blanket ya soul and misrule like church rules,
Instead on to it, using powerful tools switching it up with upward techniques,
On a streak lasting a long life time as I tweak these unique axioms that the devils immortals seek,
Tardily as earth entities are weak, sickly sleepy, becoming known truths to some like a Wikileak,
Squeaky clean proverbs throwing curve balls you can’t engage with, no sophisticated athletic semantics,
Quick with my sixth sense, I won’t settle for second, I’m the dark horse,
So with force I wanna go harder and harder, become smarter and remove haver,
Keeping sharper, one hundred, an addict going out as a world class poetic martyr,
Hard to understand letter acrobatics, stacking up linguistic equations like mathematics,
I attack and fill up sacks with goodies, the giver like your Santa, this is my Mantra wrapped and delivered.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 28.5.2016
So many people have lost their lives
Too many husbands have struck their wives
when can we get over this horrible hate
will we learn our lesson before it's too late
there goes the sun
there goes the sun!
we've walked so many miles and we've only begun
so march onward my son into the distant blue
don't be afraid I'll come back for you
So many lies stacked up before us all
will we catch ourselves before we fall
I guess it's not fair to me and you
that the walk is so long and the breaks are so few
there goes the moon
there goes the moon!
down and out and under but don't give up so soon
so keep forward my son and keep walking on
before the night is over you'll be ready for the dawn
why is there no one left there on the hill
is it because we shot him down with our words that kill
when will we learn that it's far from over
will it be when we rest under ground beneath earth and clover
there goes my boy
there goes my boy!
onward he marches in search of pride and joy
just keep headin' forward though you're tired and sore
your walkin' days aren't over but
my son, you're ready, for more!!!
Sitting on a shelf where I belong. The place I've been all my life. You reached out to me and touched me and held me...and I became a part of your life. I was for that moment a reflection of your love. You know that Sally would love me. And you thought of her and how you wished you could reach her. Perhaps this object could save the pain and say your sorry.
Me I'm just an object. I feel nothing. I know nothing. You haver personified my existence and put a heavy burden upon the soulless "Made in China" life. Yeah, I'm cheap. Like most misgiven gifts...I'll stare down from a shelf and ask the question: "What was my purpose", "How do I fit in to the picture".
And then one day I'm in a yard sale. On to the next confused shopper. I am in the end and object of a life wasted on objects that mean nothing.
I'm as close to space as most people get. I move through time without stopping. I know a dimension that even Einstein didn't take into account. I'm the time in your head that thinks you did something nice.
BUD & GLOW
Think not my silence forgetfulness
my meaning now to you declare,
my resolution to be, all in this
poetry.This diversity of your
favours now,I dare no longer
silent stay.Some observations
I have framed to myself and
relate to you today.My tears,
many for you,to bud &glow
and bear fruit in your soul and
not take their toll,such fruit of
my observations will I’m sure
bless you more and more.I fear
only that I haver omitted some
fitting circumstance,yet you will
pardon my haste and forgive if
my verse is not entirely to your taste.
From George Herbert letters 1,2,3,4,8
9,10,12,13,15
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s(not a poet) to compile unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase
Listen to me read this phrasis of mine on youtube under the name ichthyschiro
Vida que se cria todos os dias
Você sabe;
Entretanto,
Não custa lembrar:
A vida é para começar sempre
e então chegar
E chegar para poder começar.
E crescer, e saber, e ser, e haver
E perder, e sofrer, e ter alegria
De ser e começar, e se sentir vivo!
A vida é
Para ser criada,
gerar-se,
transformar
sonhos em realidade.
Não custa lembrar: a vida é
Para criar a realidade em amor;
nascer
Respirar, e chorar,
e
adormecer
E se nutrir para poder chorar.
A vida é esquecer tudo ao vir um novo começo
E viver essa vista até morrer
E ir falar com o verbo no infinito...
Without anyone to comfort me
Perhaps soothe my soul
I've become hollow within
Consumed by my emptiness
So that I feel no more
Completly numb on the inside
There's nothing left of me now
I lye motionless and so still
Frozen in a state of conscieness
An overwhelmiong silence creeps over
I try to scream but no one hears
I have no voice to exspress myself
Only an echo of whispers
Along with my endless tear drops
which por from my crying eyes
That can be heard if you listen
Queitly for them
* Underneath these vacant eyes of mine
Full of lonliness which only I can see
Being torn apart slowly
Soon I will be lost with no hope
Of finding my way back
To the happiness I felt once before
I try to forge the saddness
Ton release it from my thoughts
But i've fallen to deeply
Into self despair and pity
The pains always there
As I breath in the misery
From the stale air
It's become a part of me now
After being under far to long.
Is there no cure to search for
That might end all my agony
That stays by my sid eeach day
Leaving behind to many wounds
That will never heal, i fear
Mending all the shattered pieces
Of my broken heart which aches so much
will I ever find my soul again
which I lost somewhere along the way
On my way down an deadend path
* Beneath the vast lies of mine
I'm full of denials and admitting nothing was my fault
Only I know that there is such a thing as to much
And i've done to many wicked things
And I haver made myself a sin filled soul
with a change to turn back
Pretty much a hopeless cause
I like you.
I mean what’s not to like,
You are incredible.
The way your eyes light up a room
Or the way your smile melts me away.
How every time you say something intelligent,
I wish I could stay for another day.
In a place I’ve never been.
Learning new perspectives.
Experiencing new things.
But, never
Never.
Haver I ever slipped away.
Into a beautiful world,
Involving a dream-like state.
But still in reality,
With you by my side.
Talking
Sharing
Learning
Growing
Starting new beginnings.
Though,
It is scary.
It is terrifying.
Why do I feel this way?
Only with you.
Why is it different?
Only with you.
What makes you different from the others?
I guess we will see.
But.
First and foremost,
I will always be your friend.
I was invited to a party, and have been back to it many times over the years.
It was so notable to me, because all of the people were having such a good
time. Oh, it was just started by an older man who made his apprentices close up and see that there would be enough space for the food, drinks, musicians, and room for dancing.
As the people came in, they were anxious to join in the merriment because
this party was always held at Christmas, and everyone would have a good
time because the host insisted on it. He paid for a party and would be one
of the most active participants. Since he had paid for the party, he had the
musicians play, and danced with reckless abandon despite his age.
No one had more fun, as he would return again and again to the dance floor.
His partner was his wife of many years, but it did not stop him from dancing
with others who had come for the party. The guests came in their finery,
and the oil lamps lit the room and decorations to make it a whimsical party.
The settings were fit for royalty, the food was exquisite, the music light and
airy, and nothing but a sea of smiles could be seen anywhere in the room.
I was however, only a voyeur at the party. I wished that I was one of those
that had been invited in true, but alas, my being there had a deeper purpose
and meaning for me. It showed me that people can have a good time in
each other's company, just by joining in with a smile and good natured
feelings. Oh, how I wished it were truly real at the time.
I haver returned many times to that party, as each year I wait for it to come
on the TV. I would truly have loved to be at "Old Fezziwig's" party, and each
year I try, even for a little while, give up my Scrooge!
12/11/20
Written for "Party Folk Poetry Contest" by Julia Ward
Crie a vida todos os dias
Você sabe;
Entretanto,
Não custa lembrar: a vida é
Para ser criada,
gerar-se,
transformar
sonhos em realidade.
Não custa lembrar: a vida é
Para criar a realidade em amor;
nascer
Respirar, e chorar,
e
adormecer
E se nutrir para poder chorar.
Para poder nutrir-se;
e despertar
Um dia à luz e ver,
ao mundo e ouvir!
A vida é para começar sempre
e então chegar
E chegar para poder começar.
E crescer, e saber, e ser, e haver
E perder, e sofrer, e ter alegria
De ser e começar, e se sentir vivo!
A vida é esquecer tudo ao vir um novo começo
E viver essa vista até morrer
E ir falar com o verbo no infinito...
is love exstincted
and soiled by it haver
is love borrowed
and brokered into
a new persons having
or are lover gold brickers
who moonlight
until tired and in need of rest
than are these new positions next
by design
that the authors of these storied
mentions are acted out
in performances
to be seen by those who relate
to the drama
then when those audiences tire
of you are we then appointed to new positions to
exhaust one another
in the boredom of believing
love keeps people together
or do lovers keep each other
so that their belief in love and loving
can survive from
each day to strengthen those
tomorrows
where we'll need one another
Época da Crítica
da contestação
da Autenticidade!
A nossa época é a época da crítica,
à qual
tudo tem que submeter-se.
Entretanto,
Na vida ou nos negócios
Na religião, pela sua santidade,
na legislação, pela sua majestade,
querem igualmente
ficar fora da crítica.
AH! Triste pecado.
A maior prova de liberdade
e fidelidade
é a crítica.
Para criticar
Há que poder sustentar
o seu livre arbítrio
e o público
exame do objeto da crítica.
Lute pela crítica!
Para haver crítica
Tem antes que haver
autenticidade,
Liberdade e sinceridade.
Hoje,
Diariamente
Sonho:
umas vezes são de noite
outras em pleno de sol
com relâmpagos saltados
ou a lerdeza de caracol!
Hoje,
Diariamente
Sonho
que nunca estou só.
AH os sonhos;
Quem os manda não sei eu
se o nada que é tudo à vida
ou se é dentro de mim que tem de haver
tanta força no meu imaginar
que sonho dia e noite.
Sei que sonho,
para quem eu decida
para de novo o sonho desfazer
num contínuo surgir e retornar
ao nada que dá ser ao que é querer.
Sei que sonho!
Sou grato
a quem me faz sonhar.
AH os sonhos
AH
Os sonhos!
Teria passado a vida
Só,
se os sonhos não viessem
mostrar qual é o caminho
Sonhos: umas vezes são de noite
outras em pleno de sol
com a lerdeza de caracol
Sonho que nunca estou só.
AH os sonhos;
Quem os manda não sei
se o nada que é tudo à vida
ou se é dentro de mim que tem de haver
tanta força no meu imaginar
que sonho dia e noite.
Sei que sonho,
Pode ser até que eu os finjo a mim mesmo
para ser sem que decida
para de novo o sonho desfazer
num contínuo surgir e retornar
ao nada que dá ser ao que é querer.
Sei que sonho!
Obrigado por me fazer sonhar.
Feliz Dia
Feliz dia para quem
no exterior azul que vê
Simples confia!
Azul do céu faz pena a quem
Não pode ter
Na alma
um azul do céu também
Com que viver
Ah, e se o rosa com que estão
os entardeceres dos dias
Pudesse haver no coração
E em seus segredos!
Feliz dia para quem
está Igual ao dia
e para toda a gente
De só sentir a terra e o céu
deixa A alma os ter!