Snowy chilly;
But snowy fair.
The compensatory factor
Pluck out this air.
This scourge of life
As numb leaves us
Through what relieves, warm-hearted
Weeps, pitious
By that sort of
Soft, pure appeal
Woman, more than made up for!
For real; for real!
The seed has been planted for all to see
a bitter tasting fruit grows without light
this rotten sense of security justifies the lie
the mortal coil in wrongdoing sparks this bulb
Fused articles spiritually burning every orthodox word
all that is fake becomes the prepared menu on show
reality when it eventually surfaces will be condemned as not right
Two paths to choose from one goes up and the other down
snakes and ladders the dice when it rolls with deceit
the truth will be the shadow questioning each and every step
Game is over when a heart looses all sense of morality and human respect
Arthur Henry King said
as the world becomes less and less Christian
the compensations the world seeks against misery and despair
become more and more satanic
Compensations
Compensations for
those spat on or
were bullied: glow in
the dark expressions, grasshopper identity (for
one day only), free tickets to
the birth of bees at
The Big Bee Hive tourist attraction in
Elmwood, and
become an
Activity Manager of the
low-lying clouds.
Earthquake broke out
Disaster came
No prevention but salvation
Fate is to be blamed or
God is to be blamed
Loss of properties
Deaths
Destructions to landscape
Countless and unpredictable
Where compensations won't work
Salvation will be
The most important part
They do their parts and
God will do the rest
People will come back when it's over
And life will start all over again
They have the courage to come back
But not the courage to leave the place vacant
Why
Just as puzzling as
Why should they suffer from an earthquake
For centuries
COMPENSATIONS
unusual times
were to inspire
a response
& suspend
confidence
a triptych
space
sound bites
informed views
inspired
& realised
a
conflicted
mix
in rotation
of points
of reference
transparent
revolving
elements
'til
outwardly
conceived
into
reality
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
We need to organize, demand the right to be mindless.
Deserve we compensations,
restorations for the witless who riot.
Compassion and pardon for all moronic mobs.
The right to choose death for others, free booze.
The freedom to abuse, shut down, condemn,
and censor.
We fight for the right to chant
every meaningless slogan,
pledge allegiance to double-speak & gobbledygook,
and of course,
the unalienable sanctity of the male womb,
all gender-fluid birthing, the freedom to groom.
To boldly march on, arm in arm, in tune
toward another dumb-downed.
doltish dawn.
What doesn't thrills me,
it doesn't conquer me...
which doesn't lift me up,
vaccinates me against...
What makes me feel fine,
feeds me...
what harms me,
I leave it behind,
and throw it away... !
From Falling Light
David J Walker
In the fading light of evening
Falling stars come calling
As we seek the compensations
of quiet companionship
in the garden growing
in gracious surroundings
where sitting and saying nothing
is a treasured conversation
of a lavish silence between the Us
that is our understanding
of the forever of our
lives together
when you turn to say
It’s time to come in darling
And I follow you
For some, things in heaven more real,
nothing from earth granted to conceal.
Comrade of the wandering heaven,
scares characters and their impression.
Desires of someone that must be,
compensations tragic here not to see.
Misty morning by prayers waken,
visions of solution gently taken.
Earth circumferential constellation,
Aries rising and fire energies relation.
The spirit tameless, swift and proud,
to the egos will all needs to be bowed.
Spirit fierce and impetuous,
the adrenalin that’s called dangerous.
Will take form from deepest tone,
releasing energies thereon.
Day moon in serene grace disposition,
gentle natures clock submission.
Lack of patience takes virtue to pieces,
giving destiny no real releases.
Golden Years
Golden Years who’s kidding who
It’s a farce It’s just not true
Try us old folks to deceive
More like rust I do believe.
Take ARTHRITIS when your old
OH how we suffer in rain and cold
Next is OSTEOPAROSIS settling in
Meaning your bones are getting thin.
ACHES and PAINS seem to be
The ones sent to cause us misery
Then you start taking lots of pills
To help you get through all your ills.
But there are compensations too
By all the seniors discounts for you
Places that offer savings galore
Darn it who could ask for more.
But At least we manage to survive
And think how lucky were still alive
And still with family we are able to share
All the love that’s always there.
All our friends are still there too
Supporting us the whole day through
So now we can forget the pain and all
FOR WHICH WE RUSTY GOLDENAGERS THANK YOU ALL.
R. Taub
Uncommon Sense
Uncommon sense comes to the fore,
Secretly telling us what lies in store.
Memory can be misplaced;
Destiny must surely be faced.
Fame vanishes into thin air;
Undue longing leads to despair.
Live, but never regret;
Forgive, but never forget.
Repent, but have no remorse;
Guilt sets the mind off course.
Loneliness right down to the bone;
Silence echoes the sound of stone.
Suspicion has very little trust;
Curiosity is considered a must.
Love often fragile emotions tear;
Sorrow never tender emotions spare.
Mystery contains a diaphanous veil;
Revelations tell a luminous tale.
Stupidity often inspires reproach;
Arrogance always dares approach.
False hopes linger as a taunting;
False desires linger as a haunting.
Restraint breathes without complaint;
Respect glows brightly like a saint.
Challenges at times can be bold;
Fulfillment comes in out of the cold.
Infancy bubbles like a fountain;
Adulthood like climbing a mountain.
Raw youth enjoys its fiery sensations;
Old age has its cold compensations.
This poem never seems to end;
Its uncommon sense desires to be penned.
He comes like the tide
warm sunset eyes, gather stars.
On the sands I wait for miracles,
my mind leaves those lofty spires
Love has no compensations,
needs no diminished returns,
pure ivory dreams kiss me,
Heaven in deep agreement of my soul.
Verdant hills of mystical spring,
Music like the joy of birth,
His voice speaks in satin whispers,
his poetry like winds caress pines,
fire of the elves and songs
with kiss of dawn and dappled bliss.
We are entangled,
symbiotic night tides refresh.
Reward
To live in the misery of the past unable to let go
of childhood’s unhappiness but let it fester and
grow till adult life becomes unbearable, demands
of recognitions and compensations, because their
suffering must be taken up polished and with time
a jewel to show the world. This you owe us and we
deserve what you give us, although it will never be
enough even when the gem drowns in blood by those
who got in the way of the righteous path.
Never forgive or forget, let hatred be your leading star.
I sometimes forget advancing years
Then a reminder blindsides me
Senior discounts, free Tuesdays
Sad eyes in my mirror
Daily aches and pains
Compensations?
Little voice
Love you
Nana
The Young and the Still 22/7-2011
Walk softly now
on the green lawn of sorrow.
Too many tears shed
may turn it into a maudlin
Hollywood quagmire;
and make grief a way of life.
Open wounds fester and turn
into an anger against oneself.
First the blame game,
then demand for compensations.
But there is not enough
money in the world which
can heal broken hearts
So let go now and let millions
of roses celebrate survivors
as we remember the dead fondly.
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