Wisdom revealed yet is concealed,
since we have not before God kneeled
and since dark desires yet hold sway,
we fail to make love our mainstay,
treating life as a battlefield.
Today I didn’t know
What I was going to write
I wracked brain for ages
But inspiration not in sight,
I feel my creativity
rising recently
Yet today my inner poet,
Has been a little hard to see.
I can see the irony
It's there upon the screen
To write the fact I can't write
Is a mystery to be seen.
BLOCKAGE
A flow of words might slow to a trickle
Especially as inspiration can be so fickle
Emotional bubbles may burst and explode
As phrases tumble from the mother lode
And rhymes and devices fall into place
It won’t take too long to fill that space
They say words flow from the heart
Yet the brain has a role at the start
The priority is to get it on the page
It’s a slower process at a certain age
But the well might one day run dry
And may mean no tears left to cry
It’s always the point to share meaning
Hiding messages should deny preening
If only every verse spoke out clearly
Maybe saying, I do love you dearly
Multiple stanzas is the usual convention
And like any good plot, it builds tension
Sometimes the right word just won’t play
Le mot juste, as the French would say
A verse might pivot on such a locus
As the writer struggles to maintain focus
Then, like placing a missing jigsaw piece
It fits the gap neatly to then bring peace
wish to see God
overawed mind
love’s nod rebuffed
28-January-2022
More than fifty ships go through the Suez Canal on any day.
However, a very large freighter has blocked the passageway.
The ship called the "Ever Given" comes from a company in Taiwan.
Unsuccessful efforts to move the vessel have been going on.
Tugboats and personnel are trying to get the big ship free.
Meanwhile, hundreds of other craft have been stalled on the sea.
This incident is having a negative impact on the world economy.
From a story found in the Los Angeles Times.
There was once a man who never had a for a year
He was fine other than a big fat belly full of crap
Myself its been three days since I dropped one
I wonder if I’ll be that man to last a year without ting
Make it a year and a day or even two years
Getting me a Guinness World Record
And place in the history books for not ting
Those barsterwads, who say Jimmy is full of, are right
But imagine when it pops out a truck load of crap
Dedicated all to you my demeanours and provocateurs
Till that grand time I’ll just keep eating and smiling :)
I’m sorry I should be berated
My trusty pen’s been constipated
But poetry Jan
Just sat on the can...
Great relief, it’s to be celebrated!
Been very busy recently and had a break away for a few days but also I've suffered from writer's block - I'm back now and hopefully the poop will flow again (from my pen I mean)and I will be more active on the site
9/18/18
Blockage dis-ease fix
Red of blood of Crimson hue,
Begone blockage don't want you,
Breathe deeply on this one,
Orange hue it grows again,
Fills your world a subtle flame,
Tell blockage to bugger off blue,
Yellow light of destinys child,
Growing larger running wild,
the blockage buggers off too,
Green of Hearts the Forrest Glen,
Everywhere is oxygen,
Breathe deeply on it do!
Blue of sky the words will come,
Fill your sky with just this one,
Depart old blockage Blue,
Purple fuzz all seeing eye,
Breathe it grow it bye an bye,
Till white light you break through,
Astral Traveller it is you.
Don Johnson
Ancient technology Chakras, I use the orange one below my navel as an accelator, right hand on it, left hand on bad back or left kidney to fix same, and it works. I fixed broken veterbrae over a few days of doing just that. My Left kidney complains sometimes, so it gets more treatment
I’d like to write a poem
But I don’t know what to say
I’m having yet another
Wordless, brain freeze day
Oh no, you just don’t get it
It’s not for you I write
But it’s usually something deep inside
That needs to come out right
My mind can be a maze of rhymes
Or besieged with death and doom
And that’s when I’m compelled to write
to ease that dreary gloom
Sometimes words just tumble out
Like a river from the heart
But today my flow is frozen
And I don’t know where to start
Perhaps it’s ‘cos I am content
My life is just too good
Happy verses aren’t my thing
I need misery and blood
But I ought to be ok with that
I shouldn’t really worry
One day the doldrums might return
To feed my fire with fury
too often i have ignored all that is right
which has caused me to miss out on my true and actual plight
alone i am now and one with webs and the dust
chapped and ashy i have become well on my way to rust
my mother once told me to loosen the noose of my shield
to late now do i see the world and the decorative grounds and fields
now i am an insomniac driven by a wayfaring loner's rage
i only have myself to blame for the rapidity in which i now age....
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