Within my heart, I carry a gem
A compass that continually guides me
Through storms that rattle
My light doesn't dim
During stillness' healing,
I'm set free
At these times, I know
There is a gem hidden
Inside us all
Unless it isn't bidden
Does a spark linger there
A spiritual gem abiding
Waiting to be unearthed
To illuminate all dark paths
Both near and far away
In quiet or in noise
In every breath we take
The gem waits and waits
BitterSweet Kiss
Every Flower
On Display
Bidden,
Bitten...
Has It's Day.
-Gray Squirrel
06-13-2025
To fully imbibe God’s grace,
is to transcend time and space,
feeling within bliss beats spike,
shape shifting form as we like.
As eternal living light
and having garnered clear sight,
of our Self fully aware,
we behold God everywhere.
Though our soul is free from stains,
an earth challenge yet remains,
to do God’s will as bidden,
even when our light’s hidden.
With this impulse we descend,
that in time we may ascend,
first incomplete and then whole,
while playing our ordained role.
It’s not all laughter and fun,
as we slowly come undone,
indulging and releasing,
lust on earth we find pleasing.
Finally awake in form,
with God’s laws we then conform,
extending our helping hand,
to help the fallen to stand.
Glory is hidden
once again
She had bidden
And created a din
Glory is there
Ahead of me
Horribly fair
Says I made her free
Glory is gone
But not dead like me
The veil has been drawn
I didn’t know to flee
Ah, but what does it matter
Glory lied to me
Yet she caused blood to splatter
Creating a Red Sea
She told me I was great
And so I slew many
Told me it was my fate
And I would get plenty
But what can I do
I can’t tell the living to ignore her
To make the choice they’ll rue
For Glory is not worth murder
HIDE AND SEEK
Love can be discreet
Sometimes even neat
Feeling the heart beat
Often disguising
The passion rising
But there is more yet
By being adept
With a secret kept
The face is glowing
And all are knowing
When love is showing
Not always hidden
Nor overridden
When it is bidden
And recognising
It’s not surprising
We were born in the crack of an egg
fragile and empty
with a whip of thunder
and tongues of fire
tasting the earth.
We were born with a gram of cry
and several stretches,
wrapped in cloth like caterpillars
and waiting for our wings...
We keep our shells
as a reminder of
how far we have come
and how fragile our cradle is.
We were born in a crack and
a crack, we shall return.
They welcome us in cloth and
cloth we are bidden farewell.
Just one of us shall get their wings.
In Eden when Adam meet Eve
He said, “You are nude I perceive”
A bit of a madam,
She offered to Adam
A bite of a juicy James Grieve
He knew the fruit was forbidden
And said their bits should be hidden.
But she said, “I insist,”
And, too weak to resist,
Adam did what he was bidden
There’s a moral, you might have guessed,
For God really was not impressed.
So the moral for me,
And I’m sure you’ll agree,
Is women don’t always know best
How long have we known you, a lifetime it seems,
upon reflection, about ten years have passed.
The first thing one notices is your face that beams,
smiles leave an impression that will always last.
Always, and without effort, you flash your smile,
and we've never seen you when your face was dour.
It's who you are and it befits your profile,
Your smiling face will never portray glower.
I oft think your days can't all be just aglow,
do you lift others spirits with hurt hidden?
From your sunny disposition one won't know,
You're always found doing what God has bidden.
Your smile is an asset which God has endowed,
a blessing that has often helped me to mend.
You give them away always making God proud,
Thank you Sister Toni for being our friend.
outside, I usually I keep my stegosaurus Wild Willie hidden,
but if I shriek he comes at a gallop, feeling validated and bidden.
Police have come twice, called by my neighbor Sam, who is full of fright.
I laugh, asking who has ever seen a real dinosaur, right?
Willie cannot got to work with me, because I work at an elementary school.
They do not even allow pets, for fear they might sweat, potty, bite or drool.
He stays at home in his corner eating eggs and rice, watching Netflix.
His tail accidentally opens the curtains, which causes a real conflict.
I bring home eggs and rice, so Willie is totally content and clean.
He has a little poo pile out back, where his poos are used for flower sheen.
We have never had an argument or disagreed on anything remotely big.
Except he did have a hissy fit when I suggested adopting a pot-belly pig.
Call me Joe
I do not take pleasure in seeing the Joe Bidden
in the throes of senility, those who pushed him
into running, knew he was not sharp
he was always the company man
did their work
From what I know about this man
"Call Me Joe" was about a nasty man who
suffered low grades at school, but he had
the cunning of fools voting for those
who could make his life better
Tus he rise in power as a man to
be rusted
and we know what that entails
AI did trust him implicitly, owned them
many favors I blame Obama, who
who joined the have classes as soon as he could
with swimming pools and dubious sex
he also bears a unified hatred of the white
a shade lighter, damn it.
The elite of the USA are pushing America
into a war where working people will die
fighting perceived freedom while they
luxuriate in the Bahamas
We have a man, a Vulgarian, and as
Chas Freeman said about hi, the clock is
right, this might be his moment of truth
As for Joe Biden, only Israel might mourn
his passing
Spiritual Wickedness
(in high places is calling the shots)
Miracle Man
2/19/2024
I've never heard, a Christians life would be easy,
I haven't been immune to life’s unpleasant things.
Trials and problems have always made me feel queasy,
but I'm learning to adapt to what each day brings.
Many try serving God with worldly things hidden,
with Spiritual Wickedness setting the pace.
Then are found without power to do His bidden,
those in this condition, God will surely abase.
“If God isn’t the center, man will not enter”
Magic happened on the shore of the Montezuma horizon
Two genies appeared, Mondomay and Mighizeb
Dressed in gauzy dainty chiffon, carrying two cats and a swan
They were a corpulent two, one with brown eyes, the other blue.
What wishes did you have? A new goat, sheep, donkey or calf?
People pleasers all the way, their attention made my day.
Illustrious and lovely, they had suggestions, but kept them hidden.
We are not allowed to share our ideas, even if prompted and bidden.
I told them I would have to think and Mighizeb’s face turned pink.
We might run out of wishes, said Mondomay, as he washed my dishes.
For this had been my first wish, as I despise redundant dishrag swishes.
You wasted a wish! Said my husband Mouse who now lives in his mama’s
Made in God’s image, we’re light,
vibrant by day and by night,
veiled by cravings of ego,
which we are loathe to forgo.
Truth remains from us hidden,
until we do as bidden,
head-heart aligned, oozing love,
invoking grace from above.
To become love enabled,
ego must be disabled,
whereupon delusion shed,
we are by our conscience led.
All of us were born like this,
pure of heart and drenched with bliss
but then by desires bemused,
mind slowly became confused.
The truth that’s veiled may be seen,
being simply, our soul’s sheen;
if we but choose to be still,
voids within with bliss will fill.
Upon knowing who we are,
we cease to struggle and spar,
breath by breath, coming undone,
recognising all are one.
There’s nothing we need to do,
save letting love throbs renew.
We are, as we are, complete,
luminous soul, bliss replete.
‘Twas not a snake of the conventional type,
which I chanced to meet, at the base of my spine.
The kundalini, about which there’s much hype,
I saw clearly as Divine Mother’s love sign,
looking at me, judging if my heart was ripe,
to imbibe bliss magnetism for which all pine.
She asked me with kindness, if I was ready,
to which I truthfully said, ‘heart’s unsteady’.
Pointing out that Her spectre was strange to me,
I requested Her to tell me who She was,
to which She smiled and said, ‘let such questions be’.
‘It suffices’, She said, ‘to know I’m the cause
of movement enabling life, that soul may see,
by aligning with love, obeying God’s laws,
paving way for man to wake up in life’s dream,
where myriad thought forms do endlessly stream’.
Hearing this I stood transfixed in disbelief,
yet played along asking Her what I should do,
to which She said, ‘be still, to obtain relief’.
‘Simply allow’, She added, ‘bliss to renew’.
I did as bidden by turning a new leaf
and though it took time for me to fear subdue,
it was worth the wait, for in stillness sedate,
I was drenched in bliss waves that did not abate.
"What is life but a succession of preludes to unwritten words . . . "
- Constance La France
Life of a poet is a life of words
Some written, some unwritten
They flow out like a gentle cascade
Rhyme and rhythm and thoughtful verse
Come bidden or unbidden
Fluidity in motion is a poet's life
A prelude to words unsaid
Some formed, some unformed
Together they fuse and make it happen...
Poems come to life
Like magic and charm with flair and style
Some are born, some remain unborn
In the mind churning and turning
Till they are ready to be written...
A poem is a promise of new birth
Spoken or unspoken
Ruminating pen
Illuminating the world
Thoughts fiddle around
In her inner maze
Burning like a blaze
Until they are poured out...
And then she is free
Her life goes on
Another prelude to
Voiced or unvoiced...
Veiled or unveiled...
Life of words...
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