Infinatessimally scarsely realizable' the striving; reaching to describe that which is dawning. From infinitys sublime, in realitys
Alter. Or on? Or is it all in the mind? In the broadest sense of all reaches, how best can we?
Portray the pure attributes of true poetry
Divine'
Thoughts do not have a broad reach,
unless they are shared
Words can have a broad reach, if they
are shared and spread
Kindness can often have the broadest
reach of all, because it can be contagious
Faith has a broad reach, because
it is unseen and powerful
Hope can reach the highest highs and
lowest lows and seep into the tiniest cracks
They rise and sparkle and crackle,
Shaming the nakedness of the skies
And the city, with one frightful flame of
Youth,
Burning with the zest of
Seasonal lore.
At Christmas, they salute the days
Creamed by snow and sleet,
Thrusting in us the wisdom of
Global ceremonies.
They are the lightning of Yuletide —
Lightning unaccompanied by rain.
Shaped in balls and spears, and lean
Fragments of flagrant colours,
They are armed with their own thunder —
Thunder that speaks volumes and calms the rage in
Frenetic dogs.
They are coloured paints splashed lavishly across the broadest
Canvas ever —black and seamless
We see through their lens, the running dusts
Of sparks,
The dancing circus of sky-circuits
And the happy wars waged on the frontiers
Of seasons.
They strobe around the cold earth.
New Year’s Eve is riddled with conundrums,
Waking sleepy souls to sneeze up details of
A frazzled year.
The heavens are lit up lavishly,
Electrified to stupor,
Reminding us of choirs that chorus to the tunes
Of life everlasting.
Carousels ride through our minds, young now,
Old tomorrow,
With sparks that shine this moment
And dim the next.
Such is life.
In the shadow of death, his darkest secrets hide,
A devil’s bargain, where foul hidden dangers lie.
His vile whisper in the night, a most sinister plea,
Temptation’s dance calling, “Come waltz with me!”
His eyes as black as coal, with his sly, wicked grin,
The devil beckons you close; then he lures you in.
A Faustian deal to strike, with willing souls to sell,
For abundance of power, and untold riches as well.
O mortal hearts, O please heed all these warnings,
The devil’s deals are so hard, even for his darlings.
For momentary wealth, fleeting powers, and fame,
You trade your eternal soul, for perpetual flames.
The cost is too high, forever too long, fire too severe,
Weeping, gnashing of teeth, while you writhe in fear.
A devil’s bargain, the broadest primrose path of sin,
It will leave you with nothing, save darkness within.
So forbear the appeal, of the devil’s treacherous deeds,
But choose God’s light instead, if your soul is in need.
Take some advice, sage words from this wannabe poet,
A devil’s bargain lures assent, before you even know it.
Rose knows little about her country.
Far few women do from the pantry
And still fewer,when it gets wintry...
So,she begrudges not the gentry
And challenges not mounted sentry.
Doesn't know about Oprah Winfrey,
Concentrating on their church's Belfry;
Her broadest smiles for Vicar's entry.
It's an old heart for modern poultry,
Her birds leaving when heat is sultry
For her fondest film on Gallantry
Or,if she's loaned it out,Pageantry.
Eyes dancing for just the old pictures:
What would they do to modern cultures?
Rose knows little about her country.
Far few women do from the pantry
And still fewer,when it gets wintry...
So,she begrudges not the gentry
And challenges not mounted sentry.
Doesn't know about Oprah Winfrey,
Concentrating on their church's Belfry;
Her broadest smiles for Vicar's entry.
It's an old heart for modern poultry,
Her birds leaving when heat is sultry
For her fondest film on Gallantry
Or,if she's loaned it out,Pageantry.
Eyes dancing for just the old pictures:
What would they do to modern cultures?
The easily cured by the broadest of smiles
Of a cancer gone gross miles,
To life gingerly bouncing back
And beginning to not a lack!
The speedily healed by jocular doctors,
Worsening worries from one who hectors:
The time the keys to his coffin start jangling,
He between Heaven and Hell dangling!
The Hit-With-A-Spiteful-Elbow
Who soon recovers with a placebo:
The suspended-from-ground mistletoe,
Or several winks after stepping on her toe.
Yes, to whom it is excellent news,
That you’ve just paid for her juice.
Extremely excited and delighted
spotting the broadest smile,
I trashed what was unruled;
my tone is not rude and hostile!
An aura of intense gladness
enlivens mood and expresses
a spirit of reclaimed blissfulness:
euphoria is true cheerfulness!
Misery is the worst friend,
it wouldn't allow brightness
in that bleak sky of pastel red:
shouldn't it show liveliness?
I've traded animosity for pious forgiveness
realizing that anger led to useless conflicts;
hardships and sorrows were painful arrows
poking deep ignoring all pleads and screams!
the crescent moon grins
its broadest welcoming her...
pleasant company
Date written: 10/26/2020
We knowingly place our dreams,
beginning with our broadest extremes
to the narrowest needlepoint,
from the highest mountain
to the lowest cavern,
and from the deepest ocean
ending in the shallowest puddle,
for our imagination takes us to the never
and reality drops us in the ever,
so if you are awake, stay awake
and make the best of your new year,
and stay grounded
then sleep and drift away in your dreams
and smiles.
2020 January 02
But I Have Seen!
If I was told the water will boil fish,
I would hold the conveyer in a grip,
That would fear his breath before I retreat,
Dragging his wits to their territory.
I would take him to the broadest Aro*,
Where attention on madness is bestowed.
For how would say such; are you insane?
How would the torrent that gives life restrain?
How would the waves that give diving pleasures
Tune strange, commuting to death from leisure?
But I have seen myself; How water killed.
But twas annoying, absurd and betraying.
Who would imagine such: What should give life,
Gives death, Gives dearth, switching from Joy to strife.
If I was told politicians would change,
I would gift the conveyer to sea's rage.
18:11:2:13:14
Josh Berry. Ancestral pen. But I Have Seen!
Jumps at me
The love is immense
I could feel it in the smiles
The flash of 2 teeth & empty gums
Means more to me than
The broadest toothy smiles
I know you miss me
Maybe not as much as a brother you lost
I know you wanna shout it .rather,
Your jump at me makes it more pungent and nostalgic
Your pudgy hands raised high for a toss in the air
Is all the conviction I need
I look forward to seeing you
My mind travels 1000 miles every day
To connect with your innocent welcome smiles
Words are needed even if not voiced
The flash of 2 teeth & empty gums
Tells me all I need. You miss me as much as I do
He jumps at me
His smiles lit my world.
What secret do you hold in your crystal clear eyes?
That you would have been 2? doctors told us.
Yet one of you gives me the joy of 2
You met him/her, we never did.
He Jumps at me and the jump is all I need
I know you wanna tell the story. keep the story.
You make us whole
The wise one
The music
The Joy-Zamir
A photon wave, I lighten the broadest vista,
not a nook that has ever contained me,
unable to choose between two dark eyes
my ripples enter both simultaneously
striking but one heart, I'm free.
One light is all that can exist
and though I am but a fragment
the chance of you not surfing
my expanding disturbance of space-time
is infinitesimally small.
Let us rejoice then however many times
our reflected waves may interfere
and celebrate our massless voyage
that always reaches outward,
diffracted at times but determined.
To stay the course our heart's desire,
our memories will last as long as
God still looks to future days,
recognizing in our tiny spark,
the birth of universes He has yet to dream.
So, you and I live on in time,
how could one dream forget another,
what God has joined with, in His heart,
cannot be torn asunder,
for as He Is, I Am, and You Are - always mine.
Brian Johnston
May 28,2017
A Chicago Pearl
She put her dreams on hold but carries them up proudly
as she serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner, six days a week
to make ends meet; she’s a realist who doesn’t recoil from pain
or regrets; she faces them head on yet she likes the blues because
they soothe her bruised life that sometimes feels stagnant.
She awaits a new start and the rain in her head is held tight,
she will not be defined, nor resign herself to scattered dreams.
She hangs firm in her mind to these blooming flowers she saw in a terra cotta
pot on her way to work this morning; like them she’s growing stronger
in her voice and in her step. Tonight they’ll light candles
in the dark
“You’re a Chicago Pearl, Rondja!”
he said as she topped his coffee cup;
she briefly held his gaze, and then
let out the broadest of smiles.
I am a friend of the trees, the water, the plants, the grass.
I am a friend of the sky, the clouds, the rain, the thunder, the lightning.
I cried out to the stars, the shining stars on their black table, serving the moon.
I cried out to the moon, the moon in its throne, watching the happenings of the Earth and the heavens.
I cried out to the night, with silent wind, the never-ending darkness, the never-ending beauty.
I cried out to the black owl, with its heart shaped face and smooth, patterned feathers.
I cried out to the trees, the wisest of all beings.
I cried out to the mountains, the tallest and broadest of the world.
I cried out to the hidden sun, blazing somewhere else, somewhere I couldnot see.
I called to the world and the world called back to me, whispered that it knew I was there, that its servant, its protector, its child, dared to acknowledge it.
The black owl hooted. It screamed back with me, joining my voice.
I was a creature of the night.
I was Black Fang.
Learn more about from where this came from in my short stories!!!
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