PERFECT PERSONIFICATION-:-
eagerly
pursued
commitments
conferring
emotion
in an OPEN INVITATION
lyrical
tones
prompt
accessible
auras
of a SENSE OF IDENTITY
particularly
inviting
favourable
bespoke
blessing
ESTABLISHED PIETY -:-
simplified
images
tempt
prospective
observances
in PERFECT PERSONIFICATIONS
eagerly
pursuing
conferring
emotional
responses
but BEARING IN MIND
customary
moods
earnestly
sensed
commitments
"Heart sets up vibration echoing wordless intent, mind translates in symbols
the flight of our soul’s ascent ! "
Where does the wind blow through when the soul is having its drink?
Intent on learning, living, giving, receiving, how does it come to glow?
If the stirrings of the soul are mayhap God's way of conferring, lets sink
into the abysses of His love agape and sip from the fountain of His know!
Does ascension of the soul happen while on earth or does it begin up there?
Are we aiming to grow like wild weeds, between the cracks of a sidewalk?
If the waterwheel of life is being turned by an invisible hand from thin air,
then we must be Kenetic energy, just like the water that falls by the clock.
Oh how our lives glow when we choose to take one single step for mankind
Oh how our hearts grow wise as we choose to live through Avian connection
Where does the wind blow through each time we are being loving and kind?
If stirrings of the soul mean ascension then we better give it good direction !
Whether the Indigenous People,
robed in leathers, head dressed in feathers,
who had their own sovereign nations,
wanted it or not,
June 2nd 1924,
U.S. President Calvin Coolidge
condescendingly signed the Snyder Act,
a.k.a., the Indian Citizenship Act, into law,
thereby conferring American citizenship
on American Indians.
He had it backwards,
it was no more than an affront
as, whether the Indigenous People
wanted them or not,
it was American Indians who,
altho' they made no claim to own Mother Earth,
should have conferred American citizenship
on the Paleface People,
who were mere trespassers on tribal territory.
And Woody Guthrie
(1912 – 1967),
another white man,
was not referring
to Native Americans
when he wrote,
'This land is your land.'
Secrets of The Breeze
A breeze, a playful inquisitive breeze,
Drifting over slippery slated roof tops,
Teasing the silent secretive trees.
Hearing murmurings in wind-blown corn crops
And rhythms of the pattering rain drops.
Communing with the chattering birds,
Remembering the chorused words.
Conferring with restless, careless bees -
The attentive township, listening, heard
Passing secrets of the gossiping breeze.
Barry Stebbings
Feb 2025
You say your room is a confinement
where you’re forced to have tea parties with your greatest enemy; your thoughts
But looking through your window from the overgrown path,
You room looks like a palace to me
And as far as I can see, there’s no crusade out to take your land back
The only force driving the dichotomy of nirvana vs. under siege, is you
So do yourself a favor and lay your swords to rest until the final cue
Fall back into bed and thank your posters hanging over head
That your innocence has worked for and not against you
Conferring with coffins to abstain at any cost
Only for me to realize
That I didn't find you
‘cause you were never lost
Countering-protesting the coroner
Tracking my lucky stars like an astronomer
Only for me to suffer through stuttering speech
Of how I never really found you
cause you were never really lost
Look into the center of my black circles growing wider
And see the portal to hell I’ve absorbed inside
I’ve never had so much hate in my heart
I’m grappling with the absence of you more than ever
But I never really found you
cause you were never really lost
I will be free.. free like the wind
to kiss the sun and burn in sunshine
Cherish my eternal peace
but the pain is also mine.
Pure like a pulsating heart
all the sufferings included
this bind will end soon
like we never took a part.
A part of me in a wander
Another ready to surrender
In motion or immobile emotions
Conferring to triumph over.
Looking up,there is a hued sky
And down to feet above ground
Who mapped the freedom
And made it a soothing sound.
If the answer finds none
but I'm still in a chase
breathlessly bonded
in an endless maze,
Sky feels short and
the ground ablaze .
Then liberate everything
that pulls you back
Liberate the memory
that remembers your track
And liberate the love
To make everything blank
Liberate the love and never turn back.
Jubilation of my triumph, comfort soothing sorrow,
Aspirations of my passions, today and tomorrow,
Reveling reveries-elysian that love brought to fore;
You are the gift I adore, smiling through my yore,
As tenor of forever-love reverberates in your sphere
When extolling you, dear, heartbeats-ardent cheer.
My dear, when I am with you, how fervid souls coo,
Lauding promise of love, mirthful impulses renew,
For you are my musings, my esoteric zealous dream,
My sensuous sassy dawn, hosting romantic theme,
Unfolding treasured albums endearing vibes reveal,
My precious gem of life, sparkling amorous appeal.
Rhythms of my heart, how within your heart attune,
While rejoicing gift of love endearing spirits croon
Vowing pledges eternal, reaffirming bonds anew,
Conferring in lyrics of love, streaming just for you,
For you are my melody, strumming love’s encore~
My verse and sweet chorus: I love you ever more.
April 9, 2023
Placed 10th: I Only Live To Love You Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
The moon is orange with the roundness of Halloween.
The witch sits close by and is truthfully easily seen.
They are conferring, plotting, planning something mean.
It is the moon’s first chance to be evil. His name is Dean.
They are dragging the funeral
And conferring their itch
With dreams to fade foe
These are the lion-hearted heroes of mother earth
They are walking on the roads of thrones
Where entry and exit is to god
With ardent desire to protect each and every soul
This is the uniform of our real heroes
Their fight is trackless
Their enemy is reckless
Their effort are countless
May this valarous fate recives the stoke of luck
They are platting mortal for humankind
These are the real protagonists
May they receive the strength to ushere
The mankind to the robust world
NAYAN SHRIMAL
[Exasperation! who can love as this poet?
A host to the heavens and bleeding life?
Conferring words as exchange between God -
angels and mankind?"\]
How his body will end up in dark spaces
and small places -- Palid, stiff, naked!
Yes, jokes! I do make them! Ah! When I
hear these angels speak! Ha! The ones
who left divine dwellings for this rock
called Earth! My fallen 'friends' upon
this clay! Becoming nothing at all!
How they dared! Leaving the brilliant
living light for darker regions.
To what unknown region borne, wilt thou now
wing thy distant flight?
Anguished and empty but can hear and see
humanity grow -- they: pale, cheerless,
and forlon!
:: 09.15.2021 ::
What a way to grow Aparajita..!
By Lord Narayan’s Archana
The holy flora in ivy form
Will bestow all sacred norm
Blue prevailing here and there
Conferring peace everywhere
Lord Shiva’s favorite flower
And Operator Lord’s flavor
An invincible blossom with
Color of space I say herewith
You being my Lord Goddess
Keep me blessed in a way ace
So that I traverse all terrains
In seasons sunny or rains..!!
A genuine word bouquet~ the gift I give you today
Embroidered in chapters of benevolent language
Bound in book of life, memories fondly resonate,
Ornate in blossoms of passion heartbeats convey,
This gift I give you today, a genuine word bouquet,
Serenading our union says: I will love you always;
As candles of your affection within my heart glow
Worshipping life’s covenants we wrote long ago
Affirming those bonds still remain true and strong
Where bells of compassion in rhythms of love toll,
Wrapped in this uxorious gift are promises forever
Beaming glint of contentment in blessings eternal
Conferring everlasting upon goodness of evermore
Invoking feelings grandeur from halo of my soul
Strumming eloquence in oratory of requited love
Enamored in its presence, cajoling at its behest,
This gift I give you today, a genuine word bouquet,
Serenading our union says: I will love you always.
July 2, 2021
The gift that I give you poetry contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
They are dragging the funeral,
And conferring their itch
With dreams to fade foe.
These are the lion hearted heroes
Of mother earth.
They are walking on the roads of thrones,
Where entry and exit is to God
With ardent desire to protect
each and every soul,
This is the uniform of our real heroes.
Their fight is trackless,
Their enemy is reckless,
Their efforts are countless,
May this valarous fate
receives the stroke of luck
They are platting mortal for humankind
These are the real protagonist,
May they receive the strength to usher
the mankind to the robust world.
:-Nayan Chetankumar Shrimal
So at the nook of the broadway alley
Stood there was an old defaced stall
With an outdated dark outworn wall
Coverd with the fetching portrayals of Scotland valley
At the upfront shelf was a young lady
Bearing a sweet grin on her baby face
Having the semblance full of grace
Working at that space that seems to be shady
Conferring her was not that hard
As she had a heart open for all
Engaging in talks that were small
Was the best segmet in her regard
Rushing every now and then to her
And savouring the sun down nattering
But all those moments paused in a fling
As those vivid dreams happened to blur
Our hours of gossip ceased to occur
As she moved to a place beyond our grasp
Unhanding herself from the mankind's clasp
On a divine evening as she would prefer
As another year close in on me
Once again I was at the nook of the alley
Gazing at the shop and those depicts of valley
Reminding of the person who was now free
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