As I rise from my slumber and from my dream
With my goals for the day, yet unforeseen
I’ll stretch and yawn
Like Grass on The Lawn
And say, “Good morning, Lord”
With a morning smile I can afford.
Start my morning with God in mind
Will certainly prove to be divine!
I’ll hum a tune or maybe two
For the Lord to brew.
Mid-day at work or school
It would be rather oh so cool
And definitely fair and square
If I whispered to God a little prayer
Even if just to say “Hello Up There!”
Before I stop to converse with my mom
What occurred today with Mary and Tom,
And what teacher said
That had me dread
The blue sky hue
Turn to gray debut
I shall run and hide in my secret room
And first tell God to weed and prune
The horrific occurrences of the day
That chastised the sun to go away!
And when the night is on the rise
And my eyes catch the twinkle of the stars on high
And the moon shines bright
As I lay myself down for the night
I’ll whisper a prayer to God above
To pardon and guard me with eternal love….
Haven 9-18-26
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Haven
The inferno cast by a sinful moon
Rises in the red breath of winter,
In neon flames and flares.
Faceless
Whimpering
In splinters of bare bone
Howling into grimacing spectrals
Deaf to the labor of compassion
The agony of maples turning scarlet
The sound of birthing stars.
In the debris of green apple afternoons
When tongues of flame
Speak the thesaurus
Of sanctity
Shards of purple glaciers tremble
Chastised
Chastened
By labors of the amber dawns,
As hallowed sweetness
Falls upon the thirsting tongue.
Then, in this arbor, beneath amazing wings,
Joy reclaims crystal blooms of grace.
never over your
white-washed smile
words watered
with vibrant fragrance
fables
which filled my ear
linger clearly
as if they were now
shortly spoken
fateful flesh
fallen into nettle
&
burdensome briars
that since settled
at this whole heart
how had you found me
was I a litter of scrabble tiles
first, you spelled me
further, misspelled me
later, dispelled me
bad homme
burying sunlight
in bridal lace
& hollow vows
which vassalized me
chastised me
minimized me
& unmasked you—
solitary white
rose that bloomed
between those teeth
tumbled
& withered swiftly
in the wayward wind
never over your
basilisk-breath
black velvet tongue
threatening my life
scrambling joints
ruining sweat & tears
as every pore runs
red
becoming a river of blood
-
a place I'd rather
not be
Christmas faerie asked if she could take break
the reindeers snorted, which was a mistake
Santa chastised them for being rude to this miss
They were not given cookies after this
She sat on presents beneath a tree
watched Santa distribute things that were free
He apologized for his reindeer’s actions too
She forgave them and brought them a donut, blue.
she could never decide on a familiar, little McLizzen.
you are a witch! She was chastised by her mother.
Choose a bat, owl, cat, something, said her brother.
He was a wizard and never had trouble making a decision.
Little McLizzen went out to the park to ponder.
She heard a teeny tiny teensy itsy bitsy purr.
Guess who came down and sat after a tiny wander?
She did not have to choose, the kitty chose her.
364.
My Fear of Purgatory
I fear physical death because I may just go…
To the garden of agony for unclean spirits
Where I will be chastised for all of my guilts
Like a lowly worm being fed with s!
To the garrison of misery for heavy souls
Where I will be tortured with burning coals
Like a war captive overwhelmed by troubles!
-03/20/2015
(Dumarao)
*My Fear of Death Collection
Barney a bawling baby bat always got his way
He wanted to choose his own jack-o-lantern Tuesday
He threw a baby fit, screeching and waving his wings a certain way.
His mother said no, but his father was pretty easy to sway.
Daddy hid his pumpkin in the boot of their car that day.
Sneaked it into the house and into Barney’s room so gray.
Mommy found it and chastised Daddy for giving a baby fit its way.
Would she cut it into shreds or give it away? No one would say.
Barney did not win that day, and Daddy was given a lecture by May.
His wife who did not reward bad baby behavior, was irritated until Thursday.
Barney and his Daddy knew this mood and stayed out of her way.
Moral of this story, give no credence to a baby fit, when you live with May.
THE ULTIMATE NATURE OF WAR
Sown love reaps world peace,
While sown hate will reap world war:
Power its sower:-
Sharers of love will sow peace:
Profiteers of war, sow hate:-
World peace uprooted,
War’s deforestation plows
World devastation:-
Armageddon coming:
God plowing us a new day:-
Be ever mindful,
War is a power monger’s
Child of destruction;
And will be chastised by God:
Its navel giver uprooted:-
If poetry channels our anger and sorrow
Who then will want to write it tomorrow
And will joy and contentment stifle its future?
And what will become of our stays and culture?
I say poetry has been victimized
Vilified, chastised, castigated and ostracized
Only perceived as a tool for struggle
Truths coded for smuggle
Yet poetry is just song void of tune
From the same rock hewn
For the lyrics that ride on the harmonies
Are sponsored by poetic abilities
Only poetry captures life’s odysseys
In whose form is crafted psalms and prophecies
If you want to know an expanse exceeding now
Poetry is the where and the how
Poetry in its recitation
May not cause rhythm and gyration
Care free melodies and chimes
That people seek in easy times
Until hard times force the weaning
Where people gain taste for meaning
A complementary aid for soul searching
To set the conscience forwardly marching
If poetry must fail in the market
Then it proves not to aim for your pocket
But a stinging dart to awaken your souls
When woes and lows purge all else from their roles
K. Muitherero
The mystic bay channels my
every emotion moving slowing
throughout tunnels and vessels
of my mind tampering with
my infamous glow my tangible
smile gathering mirth as i am
quite taken with self the heart
of my magnificent being tasting
the glamorous hues of heavenly
bliss coasting daintiness balanced
so well embracing thoughtful
interludes chastised mannerism
created just so as i continue
flowing between this galaxy of
stars twinkling magnitude offering
nothing an yet so glorified, fulfilled
with every inch of the fine wonders
of enduring this wide open grandeur
beyond a whisper blindly heard
bravely singing my own masterpieces
the notion a fine rapture of proses
carried out across the mystic bay
Her eyes filled up the way they do when she is predicting madness
We try not to take her words literally, for she is theatrically over-the-top
Armageddon, she told us, the armies are gathering now for end of times
Who to tell first? The father who abandoned her at eight.
She scoffed, thinking how strange it was that she thought of him first.
He was maybe her least favorite person in the world.
She almost picked up the phone to call her mother
When she realized that she would be pooh-poohed and chastised.
Who to tell? She wailed in a lamenting way to her kitchen clock.
The clock was no help, but her journal was.
She wrote a little note “I wailed in a lamenting way”.
She could use that someday.
Her sister would be going to bed about this time; she worked nights.
What about strangers? It would be fun to alert strangers.
She put on her most colorful outfit and left her home.
Running from house to house, she screamed and yelled and shrieked.
“Armageddon is here! Armageddon is here! Save yourselves!”
The neighbors were accustomed to her;
They did not open their doors or look out. They knew who it was.
A cacophonic silence,
A mere blanch of a catastrophic faliure,
A maroon in a sickening mirage,
'tis a shade one more,
As a ray one less,
Fairing smiles adiue,
Requiem of a chastised face,
Lay a bed,
O'er wond'rous, to waste.
Where'n freshen lie fast in his daze,
Merry may go his hour,
Time shroud.
However vivid,
a weary slumber ,
Is but man's sorry tire,
Weeping sore,
Once dreaded in languishment,
Once cowered behind the stars.
Not an eye unopened,
Nor a God that sleeps.
He hid his Draconian side from her
She was a Pollyanna, her heart pure
Her family disliked him immediately
His serpent-like qualities most of them could see
He whisked her away, out of town and state.
Chastised and chided her if she was missing or late
She had to give away her family and friends.
No one ever knew when or where her journey ends.
Hemmed in by space-time and captive in form,
senses externalised, everything sized,
in bondage to lust, by dark fears chastised,
what choice do we then have, but to conform?
We notice thoughts are cold but heart is warm
and in staid silence, we’re bliss magnetised,
whence ego recedes and truth realised,
breath by breath, in timeless time, we transform.
Mind-body ballon, at will can expand,
if heart be pure and we choose to be still,
wherein no longer by thought spirals bound,
entwined with oneness, we then understand,
that once we relinquish to God our will,
soul’s light that was veiled, within heart is found.
"Tom, Tom the piper's son
Stole a pig and away he run.
The pig was eat,
And Tom was beat,
And Tom went crying down the street."
Now, this rhyme,
For a reader,
Offers minimal relief
As to who ate the pig
Or who chastised the thief.
And why Tom was punished
When his dad wasn't able
To pipe well enough
To put food on the table?
I can only hope that the author
Wound up in the slammer
For promoting delinquency,
Child abuse…
And really bad grammar!
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