thr ones that were my own
are the ones that did disown
laying down a judgeful Hammer
but not understanding or reasonable
with the truth they were handed.
their lack of Faith in me and disregard
only gives them discredit
how they spit in my face and shame me
time after time..
yes i am one who is damaged
they threw the first stone
and they are not Without sin..
thought they would learn this parable i landed
but instead, by it, got backhanded
tired of being oppressed and accused
Faithless asses are they that gave my heart a bruise
keep tune and now see what God will do
as wrath pours out and im the one ständing amused
stupidity companied by hypocrisy
they never knew me to begin with
yet they fire off at me
about to explode in my anger
so i keep them far from me
until i see them on the true judgement day
let us hope and pray
i am merciful in my wake
and im sure nobody likes to swim in a burning lake
IT REMINDS ME THAT WE ARE TOGETHER
AND IT IS BEST THAT WE STAY THAT WAY
IT GOES TO SHOW, OUR LOVE FOR EACH
OTHER, IT STANDS TO LET THE WHOLE
WORLD KNOW.
IT GROWS ENCUMBANT, TO SHINE ABOVE
THE REST
TO SPEAK IN WORDS TO ALLOW A WORLD
TO KNOW
IT'S REAL FOR THOUGHT
AND RIGHT IN TIME
IT SPEAKS TO THE COMPETION
BEYOND THE SHOW
THE RIGHFUL TOGETHERNESS
MAKE RYTHMN IN REASON
BEYOND, " THE DO OU LOVE ME STILL"
CREATED IN IT'S GREATNESS
CHAMPIONED IN WREST
THAT HIS CONTENTION
GOES TO SHOW
BEST BY DESIGN
THE HARDWORKING MAN
FACE TO FACE
THE PEOPLE STAND TO SEE
THEY APPLAUD FROM BELEIF
THE MAN'S GIFT FOR GAB
UNTIL THERE SUPRISED EYE'S
COME TO SEE
WHICH IS BEST
THE COMPANIED IN VERSE
BEYOND THE SCOPE OF THOUGHT
THE STAGE IS SET
THE BELTS HAVE BEEN BOUGHT
WREST CHAMPIONS WREST !
the conjurer
his fingers dive like seagulls
swooping in mid air
a voice half gravel
half creme caramel
soothes and goads
like granny with a rough cloth
he washes faces in life
strain the ears incredulity
with incantations
rough and unpoetic voices
speak through floating horns
companied by sea swells
pungent curses rain as fire
upon a gapemouthed audience
all invisible worlds
shunned for niceties sake
pass before reluctant eyes
as his truth is painted over
by mechanics still
the beguiled wait
for the next sign
Oh! You’ll be caught
up in despair,
Tiring impurity,
appalling aloneness.
The mechanical
world’s
Swarming cities,
smelling towns,
urban’d country.
The world of haste
and hurry,
Sootheless sit
and restless recline.
Then nights won’t
contrast days.
Yes, people will
wake long nights,
nevertheless
Not in love!
And or attend
the starry skies or
Full moon.
And, albeit sun
will new day newer
rise
Yet, always set
unseen.
So, on a summer’s
sunny day
Hunt pro that distant
dale
Still be hid from
man’s mean eye,
Where howbeit
the grasses be
green, thick and
bathed of dew,
The roving birds
nest,
The shepherds dwell.
By the bank of the
thunderous
stream
Stroll around, and
later loll
Against the old
mossy giant rock.
Cross-legged light
a flowery-cigar,
and gaze
The fir-forests,
the snow summits,
the cloudy horizons.
Listen, the sparrows
tweeting on the
wild willows,
Dogs barking,
rooster neighing—
somewhere down
the vale.
How sweet be it
beside a small fire
And with a bowl
of warm tea!
Or oh sweeter be!
If ‘companied by
sweetie.
narrative
Precious novelties, rare and unimpaired
reminder of events I'd love to share.
Recalling special trinkets in a hutch
for display only, labeled "Do Not Touch".
Awaiting finding of a misplaced key,
a new piece tempted curiosity.
Too precious to ignore, my small grandson
maneuvered carefully, warned by his mum.
Rejecting caution, which kids oft ignore
forgetful child just left it on the floor.
The next day, sister found it with her foot.
One piece, now three pieces, ruined, kaput.
Comes precious moment, happ'ning on my watch.
The brother faults his sister for the botch
who then returns accusatory blame.
Routine occurrence, 'companied by shame.
The moment builds, we search the house for glue.
Some chips still gone? Hurrah! we find a few.
Together, we three, talking as we work,
accountable, not acting like a jerk.
A precious moment in our history
when that collectible met surgery.
Four years later, standing tall, gath'ring dust
a priceless symbol, joint endeavor, plus.
written Jan. 2, 2013, revised June 29, 2017
This day I stand misplace, as she
Lost in a world not of my own,
No longer as free
And soon is night too soon, to befall
Is she in thoughts of her own,
Of once to be I recall
A glass of guinness at hand, to her glass
A companied wine if she own,
Of us to know will outlast
In burden of thoughts, yet to embrace
Of sorrows shared with her own,
In return to chase…
With without words, and I knew
Is she to feel in her own,
Of words we have so few
Do you see what I see?
Am you to feel what I feel?
Is this to be what couldn’t be?
When its too real to be as real
I long to belong to be along
What’s gone to begone to be gone
And I long to be gone to be begone
When begone I have gone along to belong
And this night, in my mind you remain
Yet this night, will we wish for again?
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