Best Liquidity Poems
Taking a long ink dip in a desert pond,
rejected drake words
ripple echoes in the wilderness: Tread with care!
Dreadnought thoughts silicate crystalized,
glass menagerie opens to a darkening sky
Wing-tipped metal muse raised to the foreboding air,
infusing liquid lightning to the bard birds
Watching intently as the anti-gravity atoms abscond,
executive electrocution is on a delay timer
Prose avian sentries see
Splitting anti-social charges
seep into the hate-soaked, polluted atmosphere
These momentous crisis changes,
poets of a new dawn articulate so very clear
Tho’ labeled by a scornful society
as being conscientious ugly ducklings,
the fear factor in the swirling wind
keeps increasing it’s whirl war buffeting
Incoming V-formation of ionized mallard birds
dropping kinetic malevolent words
Stork deliver radiation babies —
Blackhawk moving targets that glow
with surgical stealth Caesarian precision
Whilst the designated survivors
be the fleeing flock having open duck ears
Poets of a new dawn
continually pen agitate
strong current ripples in the desert pond
Letting their U2 ugly quill mirage liquidity
dose infect the minds of those
who syringe swan dive in beautiful disbelief
"Blue"
I stand at the shore
you make your way into me
seductively,
I could question your liquidity
your market is silk laid
weighed by the measure of time
your hands of satin wash
deep blue over me
you pull me further out into you;
you're in deep now, all over me
I feel your embrace around me
the reach of your current
electrifies me
do I protest?
no – this is firm in the mind
I wrap my legs around your indigo
you think I go with your flow
you take me further out
much further out than I ever intended to
for it is too soon
too soon
you think I go with your flow
I wrap my legs around your indigo
I am Calypso
I ride you home
Candide Diderot. ‘24
The price we pay for our freedom is not contained in a man’s wallet,
Nor is liberty a currency found in a female fancy Gucci pocketbook.
It’s not in anyone’s liquidity portfolio investment bank records,
Nor is it contained in anybody's “Wall Street” premier trust fund accounts.
Reverently, the price we pay is not derived from ensuing wealth.
The red blood of freedom travels naturally in our veins—immutable!
Freedom has been ordained from creation in the lives of all people.
Liberty runs from heart to heart, inspires from soul to soul—sours like an eagle!
It’s linking parents to children, brother to sister, displaying courage.
Generations standing on the shoulders of generations—a fighting refuge!
The price we pay for our freedom and liberty—will never be free!
Historical accounts tried; produced no detailed cost—"It’s a sacred decree!”
The price paid has clearly left budgets—fragmented and unbalanced,
Red poppies blooming in the fields of courageous remembrance!
It has triggered aching souls, caused running nostrils, and weeping eyes.
Ladies wearing dark veils, and men black suits—great spirits that never die!
Uplifting hand and heads under the moon and sparkling stars at night.
Courage inspiring life in delight to continue the fight without—fright nor flight!.
Many look forward to more significant liberating inspiration to come.
Brilliantly embracing the shining new embolden golden rays of the rising sun.
Such a priceless premium runs in our veins and precious arteries.
The price paid for liberty and freedom is entrenched in our hearts naturally!
Have an awesome day, don't forget to pray, stay encouraged, inspired, ingenious, resilient, mindful, enlightened, and blessed always!
Happy July 4th to America's 244th Independence Day Celebration. "Still Leading The Way." Always Count Your Blessings!
© His Excellency, Ambassador, Professor, Honorable, Dr. Joseph S. Spence Sr. USA. (Epulaeryu Master)!
It's still flowing, never stopping to change direction
Cuts are made without sharpening, perfection;
Behold the pain; beholden, the bastard
This river's banks, always see the last word
The stream of water that only the ravens tend;
Panning for painful metaphors; to no end
Flowing; with all the liquidity of a snake
There's just more confusion in its wake
Why has this mortal life made no sound?
This brook beguiled; the lost and drowned
Written by the one
You thought had an empty head
You convinced me with words you said
My voice was silent
For so many years
Not even allowed to express my tears
You let me know what I should think
Consumed me
Attempted to mold me
Kept me in that pocket
Like your personal pet
I never knew what to expect
Restrained by the fabric of you
You told me what I could do
Silently I waited
Filling my brain
Trying to escape my pain
Getting to know who was me
Knowing one day I would be free
Now I have a voice
What I say is my own choice
My words overflow
They don't seem to slow
My empty head your illusion
I drew a different conclusion
We all have something to say
No more silent voice I pray
I was never meant to do things your way
So on my page I spill
The words from my mind
I am no longer blind
My existance defined
Words pour out before me
There for others to see
My liquidity
As my days run down
I am more than okay
Grateful
For this voice
For my world
All I have dreamed
Thankful for a mind
That's not as empty as it seemed
Everyone loves
nectar from honey
moons and the
sweet secretions of
honey sickle stems
But who will love you
when no moons shine
and seas rebuff
sands from your
continent?
When the warmth of
summer winds fade
and coolness assails
the molecular density
of your liquidity,
do candle lit windows
really welcome
torn hearts
into quilted tranquility?
Love of my love,
I pray you rest peacefully,
New moons await
on unwritten horizons
If I had a Billion
I know what I would do for me
I would buy myself a Guinness
Not a beer, but the brewery
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.
I searched all night for a contortionist,
so that I might appreciate my own lack of flexibility.
She twisted my mind and body in the most pretzel of ways.
Even though I tried hard, I couldn’t achieve my Gumby aspirations.
In the end, she felt I was kinda Pokey, so she kicked me out of her bed.
As I walked down the street,
I contemplated the lawlessness of attraction.
There I was wandering around the rules,
wondering which ones I had broken.
Had I not tried my best to bend backwards?
She said I was stiff but not in the way that mattered.
What I wanted, apparently left her Wanton.
I could feel it in her perfectly formed aura.
She somehow lacked the liquidity to complete our transaction.
Still I admired her foot to neck accomplishments.
I had wanted to pole vault to new depths,
but my Noodled Udon couldn’t reach China.
From the beginning I was aching for her attraction,
but was left to watch her perform an exquisite Aria.
I am thankful and must admit, she played her instrument perfectly.
Leaving me mesmerized and completely
.....Astounded!
January 17th, 2020
A bit of humour to start your day. ;0)
Qu'ry this: a chivalrous charlatan, I,
Dareth feign to pen thy prop'r aspect?
Aye, f'r thy legitimate contours art yet
Ov'rwhelmingly stagg'ring to the gazeth,
And if beheld by the ingraft m'rtal, thus,
Wouldst rend'r those folk stunn'd to reticence.
Such provocative p'rfection f'r a prop'r prose
Pedestal doth now standeth thy outlines.
If 't only the ink of mine own quill flow'd with
The langu'rous liquidity of thy libidinous limbs.
W'rds danceth off the wit at but a glance
Of thy exquisite epid'rmal embodiment,
W'rds liketh touch, tickleth, tease, tempteth.
Coequal the wisest of w'rdsmiths wouldst strain
To holdeth nigh and effectual, the phrasing
Of the diaphanous d'rmal dialogue that
Elucidates the sultry "esses" yond thy
Shadow paints on the walls and flo'rs.
Only those bless'd as i, without pure
Sight of the eye, art accomplish'd
Enough to appropriate a competency
Of fair and f'rm'd appreciation and
Charact'rization, of the voluptuous
P'rtions that composeth thy physique.
Those such as i w're b'rn to the burden
Of the darkness, but also bless'd to the
Bearing of the tactile and touchable.
Mine own pen is the palm, the fing'rtip,
The soft application of skin-to-skin contact,
The int'rpretation of v'ry tiny electrical
Impulses from ev'rything integumentary,
And the und'rstanding of all that keen
Inf'rmation being convey'd to the brain. Alloweth
Me readeth thee anon, alloweth me putteth tactile
"Pen" to the pages of mine own soul and psyche,
Alloweth me writeth a st'ry th're upon thee, alloweth
Me knoweth with mine own fing'rs and palms
The wond'rful w'rds that describeth thee in all
Thy immaculate, sublime consummation,
Alloweth me abs'rb the text of thy curve'd f'rm,
And lighteth the darkness of mine own blind w'rld.
Transf'rm this beshrew into mine own blessing.
Alloweth me beholdeth thee as nay oth'r ev'r shall.
As a st'ry, biography, adventure, book, a tale ...
Without end.
Angry words have fear-mongering consequences,
said rhetorical behaviorist Hillary,
then Kamala, to Donald,
we would no more peacefully
and compassionately select a Donald Trump as President
than we would bipartisan co-invest to win Donald Duck for Empire Builder.
Words mean things,
said linguistic behaviorist Anat
to her fellow Economist Collective,
and the absence of kind words means something too.
We're not sure what
but I place my bet
on more discommunicating eco-political
ego-apartisanship.
FatherSun enlightenment led toward EarthMother liquidity.
We know this from our indigenous history
of Yang/Yin Win/Win
environmental science books
but this is difficult to see
how exactly this could be
without sufficient silence to recall
what dipolar co-arising energies lie in wait
within this shared bilateral brilliance.
Fire and water,
progenitors of stardust
eco-empowering,
sacred ecologizing
fertile organic planets
birthing health moisturized wealthy regenerations.
To paraphrase bodhisattva Joanna Macy,
Co-invested communing economics
is not more wishful monopolistic thinking
(or messianic ideation).
Active political gathering verbs
enlightening sacred habitats
do not wait for renowned
divisive
drowned-out
dis-organic trauma issues
to be reverently resurrected
and religiously re-membered
by monoculturing Donald Ducks
or by some Anti-Other quacking
self-serving colonization
of patriarchal monotheistic
discommunicating misbehavior.
Active Hope wakes up in love-life's ecological
EarthMother baptismal beauty
wonder
fertile light and flowing power sabbath
on who's silently communing behalf
we can act in sacred light
for animated
organic
polyamorous co-empowerment.
To the responsible Hillaries, and Kamalas:
Follow positively cooperative light,
not so much darkly threatening
reactively monolithic
swampy miscommunication.
To the authoritarian Donalds:
Follow your competitively brilliant
SunFather responsive truth
with EarthMother beauty
loves polyculturing liquidity,
not so much your prized
monopolistic
and monotheistic
anthro-patriarchal
discommunicating fear and anger
military-industrialized pathologies.
Cardboard box compassion,
canned love with a cadaver expiration date
Sub-contract the morgue delivery,
charge a mob fee that’s double the going vig rate
Profit from scapegoating the poor —
Brand X the Depression Era entitlement hate
Legislative death cargo transported,
collect a toll fee that’ll be triple the gouge rebate
Cubic Interstate road numbers
with a devil design ...
dark Transformer souls cast asunder
Route 66: a six-finger sign —
motorcade truck convoy plunder
Screaming eighteen wheelers
rolling over poverty pavement: cement blocks six-feet under
Shipping tax subsidies to the rich,
giving them nothing but the best of the best
Sending slashed welfare to the poor,
we receive only the worst of the crop rejects
Taste the tainted meat,
swallow the spoiled dairy
Dump down dignity deprived mouths
Gov’ment-approved dietary sewer —
rich grifter liquidity from piss poor stewards
Good Shepherd Jesus
fed the hungry poor faithful flock
with golden honey poured from the Rock
Bad Gov’ment hussy Jezebel
sour breast feed maggot milk
to bloated baby bodies that ghetto dwell
Being born Black Bottom dirt poor
in a harvest rich Egypt is so famine pyramid living dead
Federal Pharaoh money bow indoctrination says
it’s a raw propaganda feast for your malnourished head
Eat the putrid flesh,
drink the rancid dairy
Dump down dignity starved throats
Death-approved nutritional sewer —
rich excrement policies
from Capitol dunghill poor stewards
Time becomes liquid when I’m with U
an endless torrent, rushing river & I imbibe it greedily
sucking down hours like minutes.
It runs down our bodies &
sizzles our words
Like pungent hot oil.
It runs
Like mercury
smooth & easy
until it lands heavy in my conscience
a finite measure of our infinite joy.
Becomes wet concrete, slowing
Wishes words actions thoughts dreams
Solidifies into
duties, alarm clocks, books, responsibilities.
It hardens.
Creating the path that I tread upon, dragging my feet
until it again becomes
A liquid endless torrent . . . rushing river
when I’m with U.
Ode to the dew of morning’s youth:
Cling silently
to your fresh presence
in an iridescent world
absent of horizon’s
shadows.
Glowing amber reveals
your eager luminescence
as you await
her spotlight;
Yet her ardent rays
merely celebrate
absorption
to a lonely atmosphere...
Signify
pure liquidity;
bask in droplets
of
chromatic adventure.
Commemorate
your velvet green stage
and layered
petal curtains...
At maturity, we
float
in muddied complexities
and fallen blades;
Dutifully enrichening the soil,
taken too soon
by the g r a v i t y
of time.
A day spent at the stream
With Moondust
Infinities
And beyond
We will come back to the stream
To see a star
In its’ liquidity
In its’ depths
Of my heart
With Moondust
By the stream
Starry glimpses
Of futures’ laid
To travel
In many ways
Through streams
Through dreams
That can never fade
With the night….
The letters began to gleam
Upon the staff
What could it mean?
The way, home?
Could this be right?
I grasped the staff
Felt its’ mesmerizing power
And pointed to the stars
Numbers began to fall
In my heart
With startling rapidity
I remembered
When I launched an arrow
Of gold and brown
To the stars I felt its’ flight
The very same as on this night
High in the night sky
I saw
I felt
An eagle
With stars for wings
Such elation
That only I
Could see that constellation
The arc
To travel
In my heart
In a night sky
To see
My constellation
See it fly