Longevity
What endures in this material world?
What escapes the creeping hand of rust
Motheaten, our memories unfurl
The beauty of the rose lost in rose dust.
Hard gemstones splinter beneath time’s pressure
Mold invades the gowns sown of silver
The artist’s paint crazes, past their endeavor
Even the sun burns towards it’s fiery end.
For such a time as this each day comes
Facing wrinkles of time, starlight’s frailty,
Under the wind whipped, battered, labarum
The withering heart knows one true reality.
Only love never rusts, never ages,
Eternal, the dancing soul on Heaven’s stage.
Cry for Help
Winnowing time for recollection
In life’s moments of satisfaction
Without artificial stimulation
Or the blunder of the situation.
Stuck in an era unresponsive
In the guttural dungeons of despair,
Begrudging a knee-jerk reaction,
Mechanical friends become repulsive.
The beleaguered mind crazes
For a one-directional mission
Of taking life to the limits
To achieve perverse relevance.
A call is put out (an S.O.S.),
Like a message on the Internet,
“Light is flickering: Save me!”
And by chance, someone will notice.
Longing for the days gone by
When cares were soon forgotten
Which now linger oppressively
Odorous, like fruit turned rotten.
Carefree were those bygone days
Random notions came and went
Imagination rambling like crazes
I was not afraid to experiment.
Days passed swiftly into years
Encumbrances kept piling atop
My eyes often filled up with tears
Memories became my only sop.
Now, time has come with aging
I remember those by-gone days
My mind will often go foraging
Now I have grown set in my ways.
written June 29, 2021
Most of us fear getting old nowadays,
we try everything to help stay healthy;
thinking immortality might be fun,
we eat well, exercise, consult doctors.
But, aging is just a part of living,
we started the moment of our birth;
yet some of us were born with an old soul,
and that's exactly what happened to me.
Since a little girl I have just seemed old,
well, at least had a beautiful old soul;
that's what all my family always said,
oh yes, they said that girl has an old soul.
My skin is not baby smooth anymore,
and bones creak a little now and again;
my hair is not that of a young woman,
yet, my physical beauty seems frozen.
For there is inner beauty shining bright,
with deep inner knowledge beyond my years;
I have old ears for slow nostalgic tunes,
appreciating quiet, mindful time.
Oh, I am the epitome of calm,
I have no interest in the fashion crazes;
loving vintage and interesting instead,
because my grandma said- I was born old.
_______________________
June 4, 2019
Poetry/Verse/A Beautiful Old Soul
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1149-953-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
we're trapped, and,
inherently speaking
those of us here don't want us to escape : )
what a : )
........
life is time
time is life
it is mine
like a wife
there is no contradiction
(that is not how) it seems
we live in an abstract
(multi-dimensional) the means
ah, the mazes
the phases
the faces
of time
when will it end
these crazes of mine
when
will it end
these hazes of line
....
i see,
said the ban-she,
you are of the hinge
...me!?...am of the cringe,
the lock and the key...so please
allow me to flee...not flea...
oh gawd...it's all up to me...
it's enough to make one screee
...mmm...i've got a thought...a short time out,
try some p_t : )
......hmmm....a bit better....
now for meaning and force of letter,
..........
...need some supper.
A fad when I was younger
Was a bleeding madras shirt.
The colors, after washing it,
Would somehow then convert.
If often had a vibrant plaid
To start with, but when wet,
The dyes would start to run;
You’d never know what you would get.
Of course, you had to hand-wash
For if tossed in a machine,
The other clothes would color-change
While they were getting clean.
As crazes go, it didn’t last
Too long and I would guess,
Not many liked to hand-wash
And the sink was left a mess!
every night and day
with smiles plastered on
"it will be okay"
is all i think of
then here comes the waves
"can i go away"
emotional crazes
efforts gone astray
as i light a mint
"how can i not show"
late night sufferings
with a tear stained pillow
agony amidst
"can i just concede"
every night i wished
as i cry to sleep
when will come the day
real smiles plastered on
"she's really okay"
is all you think of
O! Sunnier than the sun is my love’s shine,
Her radiance gives birth to jocund mirth.
More lunatic in prowess fixed to pine,
Her aspect crazes more than pale moon’s dearth.
More martial in her count’nanced iron will,
Her courage braves the fields of warring doubts.
More swift, mercurial quick my thoughts are still,
Her face in them has ruling cardinal clout.
More jovial crowned, in manners utmost royal,
Her seat of influence has kingly stead.
More saturnine are those whose love’s most loyal,
Her absence grave as weighted bullet’s lead.
My love does bend the thieving gods’ weak knees,
Devoted strongly with venereal ease.
I see faces,
sober races-
covalent bases,
upon crazes,
upon laces.
I say hi that I know her,
get by on some glow worms,
grow guys in the sojourns-
holy as the phone burns...
High tech would have a job,
but the buying neck would have a slob,
so why get robbed at the kabob
when the higher rent is only as true as a mob?
'Cause there is no escaping the jobs-
slamming of doors or weighing of the stops,
you've gotta be a bob,
make sure you've got friends to cast off.
THE FUEL
Powered by anger
That’s what drives me
Waking up early
To pick at my brain
Growing the store
The investor’s grain.
Powered by Anger
That’s what keeps me
Focusing on the prizes
Keeping me off the crazes
That one day ‘twill be worth
Every single drop of sweat
Powered by anger
That’s what binds me
Keep up with the contracts
Avoid all idle contacts
Save up the few coins
Pull myself from this toils
Powered by anger
That’s what builds me
So my kids will have a clutch
The ground they won’t have to scratch
Exploring all their ideas
Not living with all this fears
She sings,
The dumb mouth,
But she sings.
There is, beyond the deads,
The time's continuity,
It continues in silence,
As crazes the stone
... And have no more eyes to cry,
Does not means, so far,
Close his eyes on the future.
-----------
Elle chante,
La bouche muette,
Mais elle chante .
Il y a , bien au-delà des morts,
La continuité du temps,
Il se poursuit en silence,
Comme se fendille la pierre,
... et n'avoir plus d'yeux pour pleurer,
Ne dit pas, pour autant,
Fermer son regard sur l'avenir.
-
RC
- jan 2015
( in memory of the Charlie Hebdo's victims )
Gold with shining yellow blaze
As if born out of golden sun rays
Precious, prestigious since ages
Gives to the hearts boiling crazes
Glitters in the crown of the kings
Gives the needy powerful wings
Looks so blameless and winning
But makes crazy hearts cunning
Its force of influence is stunning
It makes every stability running
It is so handsome and masculine
That it is loved by every feminine
But its real cost is in its character
It down casts every other factor
It’s capable of changing the world
Its way through is never hurdled
May God grant all heart like gold
Shining with the thoughts bold
Pure, long lasting and faithful
Rich by heart and ever cheerful
LOVE AND THE PRUDENT MIND
How can passion nab a prudent mind
Heartless and unrelenting sorrow
Passion which
Haunts across seas
Crazes uncharted through widow making mountains
Shadows its prey
day by day from scent of soap to toothpaste caps
Sleepless nights in strangers beds—The vows once took cannot be shed
How can love annex a prudent mind
Diligently plodding through piles of work
Jump between the lines and ink
like a rapist scare
to catch the victim unaware
Heartless and relentless sorrow
Years refine the passion fire
Body aches for vanished scorching touches
Heartless and relentless sorrow
Like a bird she fled the skies
But longs in secret for the midnight flight return
Walking with you all the way, because I missed you night and day.
Holding your hand to help guide the way, in the light of the moon?
Sunshine brightening our lives whispering ways, hold my hand,
I want to be with you, up lift your soul in oh so many crazes.
Hold you in my arms and remembering when our lives took us,
Each to two separate places, what am I to do now? Eyes so clear,
Pull your likeness...
Closer to me now and cling to you at closed in spaces?
Whisper in your ear that I have no grievances to spare, so come to me,
Come to me now, I want you to be here, love me now, I have a life to share.
The effects are rollin over our bodies, like it can’t decide,
Caught in between here and taking you out to be the ride of your life.
Turning pages
Blaspheming churches
Crucifying sages
Causing rages
Turning pages
Wandering mazes
Furthering crazes
Nullifying searches
Turning pages
Erasing phrases
Controlling phases
Dazzling praises
Turning pages
Relenting urges
Escaping cages
Paging ages
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