The rising and setting
Of the sun…
The waxing and waning
Of the moon…
The orchestrated constellations
Of the beaming stars…
The staccato positionings
Of the planets…
The andante asteroids, comets,
And nebulae…
The soprano and baritone
Lighting and thunder…
All a beautiful canvasing
Galactic symphony…
Cosmic 24-hour live stream
Music to the eyes…
Harsh is the time of your birth
The bleaching sun, taking away all beauty of the earthly jade.
But out of this parched season,
You bring forth the passions of your ever living substance.
Whispers of the cool, dry winds
Wave your exquisiteness for all to see.
Canvasing the floor of the soft earth,
Beneath each towering tree.
The stately soft petal
Of your comeliness fall ever gracefully.
Like the rains, that you seemingly beckon
To come and drench the thirsting earth.
Your cries for the heavens
To bless the earth is without sound,
But great things occur in silence,
Just as the warm sun rises.
The God of the heavens
The great creator set you as a sign.
A herald of great tidings,
For the rain draweth nigh.
Not once, nor twice but as many as three times
Your passion is echoed.
Filling the land with hope,
That soon the watering of the earth will appear.
But alas, you are no more as the heavenly windows open,
And as the thirsty land drinks her fill,
Your passionate silent calls are needed no more.
We bid thee farewell till next mother nature calls.
Canvasing the world as we solder metal bandages to wooden wings
We attempt to cover pain by silencing what our scars sing
A noted tension with a vulnerable assist
Showcases hope and a life we refuse to resist
The porcelain skin that encompasses our ceramic hearts
Shatters with words, fragile from the start
We attempt to grow strong and bring misfortune to rest
Never acknowledging our torment in life’s daunting test
Powerful stances and barricaded walls
Provide the illusion of safety from the inevitable fall
We torture our minds with grace and self-worth
A future and freedom promised at birth
Together we provoke sanity and justifying results
But solely we fail due to committmentless faults
Pressure is applied for us all to do right
Causing the misery to show only at night
We lie restless, we toss, and we turn
Contemplating all failures and lessons we learn
Memories and dreams driven by desires and needs
Pose as the trough through which our fiction feeds
Obtaining the most out of life is what we all want
Hoping when we die it’s not viewed as a meaningless stunt
I suppose open ended flows of thought
represent Earth's holistic arts collective.
Poetic licenses and decomposingl life sentences
invested in prayer to fully incarnate,
cooperatively manage,
then master healthy performance arts
coarising social-political research sciences,
life through death ecotherapeutic punctuations
of rhythmic passions.
Co-empathic political art trusts
empowering truths with beauty bounty.
Poetry readings engaging sacred liturgies
of Earth-enlightened art therapy
deeply stretch-canvasing compassion.
Communicating arts
predicating and predicting love of resonant life
regenerating resiliently healing sciences
of and for healthy future co-investments
in perennially recircling performances
engaging deep listening octaves
of fully colored feelings.
head down, lost in time, hunched back
a punching bag sags and won't punch back
the pressure inverts compressing the sand within
stop in your tracks with the flash of the camera lens
trapped in a task fully canvasing
a spot unreachable by an ambulance
dangerous to fight the elements that made you sick
with pain you live the flaring wound gave you this
save you kid but it's only you that may do this
wade through risk and promise it won't make you quit
but at the time you truely focus in
you'll realize happiness is hopless man
cause you've worked so hard to reach the lowest place
now known as the lonely man who won't show his face
the man kept close afraid of any open space
the man showing courage that you know is fake
"Potent Pout"
lips are warm and toasty
waking to your eyes
canvasing my face
as afterglow of Sun
at twilight time
dancing to love's music
as your arms enfold my waist
lips pouting to taste
melting steps of stars
into perfect rhyme.
lips are sweet and sultry
singing to soft melodies
words of tenderness
emitting pure emotion
as waves cascading ocean
lips lament devotion
building dreams and desires
uplifting to inspire
in expressions of deepest love.
lips are moist and mellow
sleeping to the sound of breathing
love notes caressing my cheek
safe within the confines of your heart
content as fire smolders in passions peak
as embers burning forever
seedling for two turtledoves so unique.
lips are potent and pouty
*For Carol Brown's LIPS ...
*Written by: Linda-Marie The "Sweethearet" of P.S.
*July 14, 2012.
woe daylight
emptied out
into nights glare
canvasing mirth
beneath a wondering
phlight amid thought
that weathered thee
unforgiving soundless
panting we'd opened
an empty potrait
Stubborn smog;
creeping on my window sill;
billow, thicken, stay unclear.
Drip your lazy finger tips across the plain, cracked wood.
Dispense ever so slightly, your molding breath,
canvasing tenderness with your teasing mouth.
Harden as you try to pass through listless glass;
glass that has been viewed upon by so many others,
feeling like a whore without a single ounce of payment;
for she has been spread to be displayed without her authority.
Her only friend is the visiting salamander, that surprises her with a needed massage.
He speaks to her of his travel of the broken floor;
a floor that has been trampled on by other many travelers,
that do not bide their time by watching their heavy steps.
The smog tires of their conversation and let's himself obliterate slowly, but knowingly.
He speaks to the glass held by the window sill, on how she will never be free,
that she should be hopeful to see the many passing things.
Hopeful that many creatures crawl upon her face and rest upon her body,
hopeful that he will not come everyday to blur her visions of the world,
hopeful that one day, she will be graced with death;
from someone breaking her gaze...