Undeva departe
Emo?iile ?i-au facut adapost
Afara ploua ?i e frig..
Ele, tremura, sperând la un anotimp mai bun
Înainte de pisc, au fost îndrumate de un calugar
El le-a urnit din loc ?i le-a dat direc?ia spre Vârful Exprimarii
Dar când au ajuns acolo, le-a parasit cum s-a înnoptat
Iar ele înca se întreaba daca e pentru ca a ajuns sa le cunoasca
Tremurând, î?i spun pove?tile lor personale
De la întâmplari fericite ?i pâna la trairi terifiante
?i în tot acest timp afara e bezna
Iar ploaia devine zapada
Diminea?a vine cu o întrebare:
"Ramânem pe Vârful Exprimarii sau coborâm în Valea Reprimarii?"
Acolo în vale este cald ?i tihna.
Nu e nicio durere, dar ?i nicio placere.
Oare cum e mai bine?
Aici sau acolo? Acum sau mai încolo?
Oare mai au o cale? O cale ?esuta din pove?tile pe care tocmai ?i le-au spus?
Dupa ce au fugit de Valea Reprimarii ?i au suferit pe Vârful Exprimarii, care e calea catre Marele Echilibru Interior?
A soul is a person who has a line
Similarities sticks together ties that bine
A willing to do good, compassionate things,
in alignment 'together with God'
3/3/2022
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
The Ash has died, bare-branched
Throughout this summer.
Odin's gallows, Dreamin' Tree,
Died back like every other.
Though autumn leaves begin their fall
Bare Ash stands like a Christmas tree
Embraced, entwined, adorned
With greening from another.
Wisteria's bine has jumped the gap
Between the gardens at the back
To cover Ash tree to its top
To all the world alive, but not.
Half way up this dreamin' tree
A pigeon mounts his mate
A fourth or fifth time in this day
Though autumn's love is late
And well before the Spring.
Corvid's watching blue-winged Jay
Sits low upon his gallow branch,
Planning how to rob their nest
To scalp its precious fledgling squabs
Before they're raised as offspring.
These clatter doves with life long
Mates make glimpse of love's display
But all of God's creation groans
Awaiting when that final day
Finds freedom from frustration
With birth pangs of a better way
And longed for last redemption.
Candva am stiut
exact de cate ori vreau
sau trebuie
sa-mi indoi hartia de impachetat
inainte sa trimit
un colet social.
Pe vremuri, hartia
era atat de importanta,
uneori la fel de importanta ca si continutul,
iar livrarea- momentul-
urmaream sa fie perfecta.
De-alungul anilor
am avut indoituri,
linii, urme, scris frumos si
chiar si rupture. Ce bine ca exista scotch!
Desene, mai rar…
Trecutul meu emotional
tot pe hartie
l-as asterne daca pachetul de azi
nu ar carboniza
insasi mainile care incearca
sa inghesuie Totul si Nimicul
intr-o cutie singulara.
Pentru fiecare intrebare
pe care am sters-o mai mult sau mai putin constient,
pentru fiecare umbra lasata de colturi ,,nota bene”,
pentru fiecare taietura incapatanata
ce-mi forta vindecarea din ore in zile,
pentru toate
vreau sa materializez acum,
inainte sa ma ridic cu picioarele de pe pamant,
un ultimatum:
"Let it burn!"
De dimineata si pana pe'nserate
Faci, duci, dregi sarcinile toate
Ajungi seara'n pijamale
Si esti gata de culcare
Dar la viata te gandesti
Si de ce te obosesti
Când afara'i vreme faina
Tot ce'ti trebe e o haina
Iei costumul de'alergat
Si pe usa te-ai scapat
Gandurile te primesc,
Relaxarea-o poticnesc
Fuga usurare nu-i,
Linistea n-o da oricui
Ce sa faci sa te destinzi
Cand nu poti sa te intinzi?
Pasarea mananca bine,
In colivie totu-i apartine
Dar cand fuge'n libertate
Ia mancarea de-unde poate
Pofta de viata ai
Libertate parca n-ai
Vrei mancare sau vrei bine?
Libertate-o poti obtine.
Si viteza parca prinzi,
Noapte luna o cuprinzi
Cu privirea lacrimand
De viata animand.
STALKER (I Got A Crush On Velvet) by James Edward Lee Sr.
Hush, don't talk;
Allow me too cross the line;
As I come to you I walk;
I cry, and yes I bine;
Hoping, developing;
Poking, enveloping;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
Trying to find the common ground;
Wandering and wondering the right time;
As I pray within the night;
You'll continue to come around;
This will be so right;
Don't be so blind;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
I come to you with open arms;
Oh, I'm confessing my love;
Please don't rebuke my charms;
I wish just to be only yours;
Allow me to continue to adore you;
Instead of me just viewing from afar, boo;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
And this love for you never shall regret;
I long for you;
I promise to be ever true;
I love you;
Honey hush;
I got a big old crush;
On you girl whose name is Velvet;
I'm not a stalker I got a crush on Velvet;
FOR CONTEST: Stalker
Sponsored by> Silent One
(Youth is Wasted on the Young)
Oh, to be young again,
and have your arms wrap me
in bear hug warmth,
in breath-stealing squeeze,
as I taste morning coffee and cream.
So cold the cup rim,
and how flat the flavor bine,
without the channel
of your steamy lips.
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
Apprenticed to enamoring aviary, Love's cerebral chords to refine
To interpret the alluring tones in each, captivating line
Overhead, a snow white dove in the pure light doth shine
Innocent libido's inhibitions to illumine
On silted ground, turtle doves in beautiful harmony fealty bine
Every silky neck strand in seamless congruence to twine
In enchanting Lilac tree, song birds in melodic chorus rhapsody pine
The titillating rhythms of amorous romance to define
On fibrous pulp, wood peckers their virile aspirations sign
Artfully tracing each groove on hull bared and supine
In golden pond, nubile swans in tantric dance align
With graceful movements gently stirring the foamy brine
Hovering , humming birds' wings vibrate o'er suckling vine
Then with salivating tongues on frothy nectar dine
At dusk, Nightingales' guttural groans in palpitating soliloquy whine
The moonbeam's enticing spell on unwitting lovers to assign
Ebony-caped crows bellow bewitching chants o'er listless ravine
Each ingratiated soul with lustful thoughts to incline
Stealthy hawk with piercing eyes each svelte fiber doth divine
Then with dexterous agility swoops down on silky ermine
Come on life , come
fill my heart
a drop of emotion...!
The black centered eye
i was arrested by put piece of shadow
spreading seven colors.
Relationship nailed in heart wall.
Bend the memory bine
Lage head down to a deep drop
birth to dry heart, spark the eye water
I step like river!
Shadow river run in the ocean heart
Almost hit by wave of wing struck the mind
Open your heart
I can drop half of my sorrow
Open up your life
I can drop tear sea ..!
If memories covered with aculeus
love to cuddle me tied shoulders
Crash the callus formed hollow bones
Give strength my rusty arms...!
On my slender face half of new moon shadow
Spread me half of your happiness
Let lough happiness line If have time
Let them flow wrinkle channels if have Location.
Griefed emotions inside the heart
this goes much deeper drop fence around
Let them again suffered days
Let the color buried dreams....!
-Ravi B.N.Murnad,INDIA
Dual fall of the brass.
From the bine,
from the bliss of flower strength.
An apparition
of infiniteness of agony.
Becoming one with failures.
It tends to stay
and enters the forbidden city
of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring
to remain poor of any treasure.
The mysterious pain
a trap cannot catch.
Oh,pass on a cloud
my eyes want to rain.
Satish Verma
A wife in each tent
My hearth a tenement
Fecund grove lofty sentiment
Cultivating each manicured accoutrement
Family tree planted in oasis of wine
Fertile sprouts a fruitful sign
Pristine shoots pure genetic thread to enshrine
Concubines to further seed family line
Pods proliferating in an ocean of brine
Hybrid progeny status will assign
Grafted branches of patriarchal vine
Strong arm, domesticated wings to align
Sinewy twine to encumber free-flowing bine
A delusory pleasure bristled the solitary abator
And the dusky night rides down the sky
An ethereal beauty demoed with her au naturel demeanor
The solitary abator bumps with illusions, thus far realisms high.
Elated with red-hot mysticisms the abator closed his eyes
And mildly felt the zephyr over the mum wispy time
She reposed in her bareness beside his devout envies
The abator fluffed up ca-cacing his limbs to ease with spirit and bine.
An awaited soul perked up with flavour of lust and zeal
And the midnight silence prolonged to be livening with insidiousness
She abreast herself over his frvid spirit of unreal
The abator matte-up bosoming her with barmy tenderness.
The ravenous abator intimated himself in the same state of bareness
And the dark moonless night beamed with perfect ecstacy and elan
She ooohed legalizing the demon-ridden enduringness
The abator held himself with an abrupt spasmodic movement of his organ.
The wonky estrus abator coaxed himself with the pleasure of onanism
And the gentle breeze was felt to soothe the pragmatism
Slowly her au naturel beauty faded, idling the eroticism
Bequeathing the abator's midnight oneirism.
Wreath underlaid with resin and pine
Overlaid with ribbon and twine
Spliced together, effervescent shine
Signifying the season of mirth and wine
Rustic emblem that we from nature's reservoir did mine
Artificial symbol of human ingenuity and design
Bridled garland that nature's bounty did re-assign
Monument to the preceding year's decline
Woody chalice in which new year's good will to enshrine
Decorative laurel that both hopes and memories bine
Resplendent crown that hearth's door doth refine
Glowing beacon that will holiday guest's illumine
Token of past year's blessings from which we hesitantly resign
Harbinger of coming year's favor which we so ardently pine
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
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