I didn’t heed her words,
I thought they were unnecessary,
The atmosphere was friendly,
and there was no hint of anything strange,
I was surrounded by light.
Suddenly, it struck like a deluge,
Monsters stared through the window,
The eerie opened the door to my chamber,
Inviting dark elements into my slumber,
I found myself in a world of the unknown.
It was a journey through the mire,
A sail across turbulent water,
I fought and struggled
Against the recalcitrant tendrils of darkness,
Walking through the deep sea of the night.
This encounter is etched in my memory,
An ordeal that has revealed mysteries to me.
I still journey this path,
And I have learned from my experiences,
That the eyes of the wise often see what is veiled.
February 6, 2025.
Form: Free verse
My fire snorted and all is still,
Chaos does come; lull in the hills.
My mother weeps & daddy cries,
Not peace nor love seen in the skies.
Looking on stirred, with jaws agape,
As blood does stain my flowing cape.
A laugh echoes around & around,
A serpent’s grin, with malice crowned.
‘Come! There is place for us now,
Where Chaos can rule and avow.’
Scanning left, right, left and down,
There was none a soul around!
I search within and find us there,
The architects of this despair.
Form: Rhyme
It can get a bit chaotic…
deciding which Glenn Hughes album
to listen to next
With over fifty years of music
he has so many different flavors to choose from
funk, blues, heavy to name a few
I try to ease the chaos
by listening to a single set list on YouTube
or my vinyl record player
But sometimes it gets overwhelming
to decide which album and songs to play
as they are all so eloquently superb
So as I construct my own chaos
I get the experience of a lifetime
as I get to listen to Glenn Hughes day and night
I come to ask you now…
will you construct your own chaos
and listen to Glenn Hughes as I do?
Yes, it is entropy we seek…
organized chaos
as only Glenn can lead us through
Form: Free verse
CHAOS
Chaos is the absence of all order
As is now with me, totally adrift
Supposedly I was the constructor
But who was really the architect
I assume blaming me was correct
Not some pretentious conductor
Yet, this was never seen as a gift
As if insanity crossed the border
Like a wall built up of dry bricks
That now is a mere scattered pile
I sense when the harmony ceases
And has that uneven odd rhythm
All due to some unknown schism
Just as my life that’s all in pieces
Rebuilding could take a long while
As disorder has learned new tricks
Form: Rhyme
At the coffee shop, a chap walked in,
Ordered a latte, wore a sly grin.
With a carrot, he stirred, no spoon in sight,
Perplexed, I stared, as my thoughts took flight.
The buzzing barista continued her work,
Same as the patrons, did not notice the quirk.
In loud sounds of chat, my mind left to wander,
A carrot in coffee? A concept to ponder!
No others had noticed by time he had gone,
And I said, "WTFWT, on this very dawn?"
The insanity of sighting a veggie conductor,
Beta carotene coffee? A caffeine constructor!
Alas, I sipped my drink, a secret to declare,
Not java but whiskey, the truth now laid bare.
A twist in my brew, a profound virtuoso,
Special ingredient that gives coffee its mojo.
The buzz in the shop matched the buzz in my cup,
Unraveled the mystery of the orange root foul-up.
At end, the coffee shop's great unsurprise,
Was due to my whiskey, not his carrot supplies!
Form: Free verse
so easy to talk to
rarely do i hear from her
so sad it is always the ones that are the most enjoyable
he put you down via verbal abuse
now you are protective of your heart and the way you openly give
so sad it is always that version that i always end up meeting
so fun to forget about life for a while with you
tomorrow the usual and the norm will return
so sad that i will never get to know or experience The Real You in person
he broke your heart and her confidence
he was the main constructor of your unexpected inferiority complex
so sad to read the hidden codes underneath the smiling tonalities of your replies
so grateful to know that i have you as a friend
so proud for the privilege to experience the benevolent side of you
so good to know that i always make your day better by making you smile
Form: Free verse
I discern I am
mill owner
of mine
own
pain...
but I realize
and I'm
constructor
of my
happiness...
The story
mine and
mine and i
am
its
historian...!
The joy
also
is mine and I'm
clown
of my joy
yes...
if I'm satisfied
so,?
oui...!
Form: Free verse
The reflection of what you see
To me, it deflects the purities that my spectral lenses catch
Matching with every insecurity of
Impurities overflowing as water through a gutter
Cluttering me from seeing my self-worth
Birthed from times of weakness down the road most of us have treaded
Yet,
a worn path others have made it down.
The thing about a mirror
Is it’s easy to break
It’s the shattered pieces we’re afraid to pick up
Those individual shards made to make up what’s left of your reflection
Your identity
The sharp fractures of what’s left from the whole cheval
Though it now reflects a peculiar perspective.
The intricate things that were once overlooked.
Crafted and handpicked by your own hands and not of that of another constructor.
Cuts and nicks
Pains and pricks will cut deep as you assemble your speculum
A Curriculum self taught to teach you your worth
Birthed from pain to be made whole.
liberté retrouvée
Form: Free verse
Administrator and A Legislator
We like an administrator and legislator;
Can be a constructor as well as creator,
And in our mind,
To fact rescinded;
Positive results will produce a celebrator.
Jim Horn
Form: Limerick
oooo ah, This man called Peter?
It is I, did he not hear the Master?
He doesn't need to prove any point
but he was with Him on the mount
At Tabor a while ago, him a fisher
Suddenly applied to be a constructor
Imagine, building without a plan
He was not even afraid of harmattan.
Because his mouth was in astir
he asked to move on sea expecting no stir
'if it is you,' a statement similar to mockers
Particularly Jesus' enemies
We heard it in his 1st temptation (mt 4:3)
Among those for his condemnation (mt 26:63)
Same d thief at the left hand echoes in confusion
No wonder Peter began to sink
his impetuosity took him to death's brink.
He should have remained in d boat
The master was walking towards d boat
The rabbi had to return him to d boat
And d wind died not until they enter the boat
Pls, don't be lost in wander
because you seek signs&wonders
remain in the boat the Church
Don't jump to avoid a crunch
God will meet you at ur point of needs.
Form: Dramatic Monologue
The Passing
There is always a bridge a San Luis Ray we have to cross on
the fateful day when it collapses, but we are not alone many
others some quite young will also be on that bridge.
We can blame the constructor of the bridge – Haliburton – or
blame the state for lack of upkeep, heavy truckloads or shoddy
workmanship. And like the friar in the novel by Thornton Wilder
go looking for an answer; there is none, and there should not be
any because it is irrelevant on that day whether you use
a rowing boat or use a bridge on your way to Hades; the solace
is as in the song “you will never walk alone.” Sung by Liverpool
football supporters
Form: Blank verse
One eye seen in the way,
Starring into the direction to stay.
The plant has a seed,
About the size of a bead.
Far to follow;; but so slow in the light,
For one who sees dreams; so far out of sight.
The planet as a star flying in; distance,
Viewing sights in consistance.
Viewing lanes of signs reading the journey,
I grow my new wing with lead;play; sing.
A for the alignment made for hope,
B for the braveness learned to soak,
The next step; I connect to another,
Masking the figures; a model; a brother.
Pick up on two I stand tall,
Each step and crack; I trip; I fall.
Kind words, tender; firm,
Went from a back bone to a worm.
The city shines;
I step back with lines.
For I'm the constructor of destiny,
Teaching those needed not to flee.
The mind progresses with indulgement,
Each word each spoken; always meant.
The story writes as the song plays out,
Directions and ways to learn about.
Hearts given by hand;
Briging laughter to stand.
Flying by go the pictures and minutes,
The money and any debts.
The mind goes to ease,
Stepping into the breeze.
Life is a time,
To live in the rhyme.
Form: Free verse
Enveloped by the fire of Love, I must give forth my blazing heat.
Expansion burns within as I am tempted to retreat.
My availability as a transcendent soul
is pertinent for the good of the whole.
Flinch I will not
in this initiation process.
I stand strong with valor and courage
as I complete the bridge
between experience and purpose.
I am the guard and constructor,
sealing division in my divine structure.
I arise as the flame,
destroyer and creator,
one and the same.
Form: Rhyme