You are such a tool go back to school
they yelled at him without hindsight
You got nothing between your ears
pack it up Joe, walk only by night
He took his thermos and left for Rome
feeling like a dumbass, quite stupid
When he got there, two arms alone
greeted him, " dad your home!"
You would have thought the King arrived
together they made Osso in Buco ...
Drinking in the elixir of life his child derived
happiness, for his dad was really in the know!
Joe gave his resignation and became a chef
no, they didn't ask him for a passport.
He worked with a nice old man named Jeff
together they served Portuguese red port;
No one ever made him feel like a dum-dum again
as he poured the wine he asked, ... " say when?"
Salud to who we don’t have to perform for,
wiping off makeup and the masquerade.
The joy’s quality time and nothing more,
a picnic lunch by the sea the day’s made.
Maybe all we do is just talk and talk
laughing endlessly into the sunset.
Our casual shoes were made for this dock.
That random hooky day’s a clever ploy,
a simple moment fills me with such joy.
Happiness derived from a day at shore
making memories that will never fade.
The unexpected is always in store,
wild are the moments I would never trade.
Caught inside the hustle of the boardwalk,
or on the shore lying back on a blanket.
We don’t ever pause to look at the clock.
Work hard play harder for the sweetest toy,
sharing with your friends all that you enjoy.
Many a place that time leaves behind
Hold memories that never rust
Like the now broken swing where skyward you'd climb
It now creaks as it sways in a windy gust
The old wooden house where you once lived
Held memories of laughter and fun
With beauty from nature derived
Playing where the rivers run
The rustling leaves of the old oak tree
is remembered by those who explored its branches
Now it plays a sentimental melody
As recollections flow without stanches
Impressions may come and go
But in some forgotten corridor of the mind
An image will suddenly show
"By the squeaky old gate that tomorrow will find"
I am the universe
Before I was, did my "I" exist?
Atoms danced in cosmic streams,
Born in stars, billions of years past,
Nuclei forged in supernova blasts.
In my parents’ cells, DNA entwined.
A code of life, billions of years refined.
Then, in my mother’s womb, I formed,
Cells dividing, channeling a form
No thought, what’s to come unknown,
A spark of life, a parasite with cords,
I ceased to be that embryonic core,
Born to this Earth, a womb yet bigger,
A world of senses, mind’s new light,
Neurons firing, 'I' getting charged
Each stage evolves—new faculties unfold.
From single cells to tales retold.
Here, too, I’ll fade, my atoms free,
Recycled through Earth’s chemistry.
To a greater womb? Will I know,
Perhaps the stars,whence It all began,
Energy derived from cosmic pool,
From Big Bang’s pulse to life’s last breath,
Forms transform, energy never dies.
Evolution Not just species, but life’s design,
Evolving through time’s endless line.
From unknown voids to known’s existence,
I am the universe, seeking its face.
Our life as
c
r
e
a
t
u
r
e
s
of the land
belies the lie,
that we land-blubbers be.
For the blood and fluids
within our bodies
are derived from the
primordial ocean that
we carried with us as we
c
r
a
w
l
e
d
up the land
on our bellies.
Life originated in the sea, which still bathes all our cells.
For water is the hub of life, its our mother, matrix,
sustainer and maintainer, here on Planet Water.........
Deprived of your love
All the lights would wink out
In darkness I'd wander
Direction in doubt
The fear would creep up
And breath on my neck
Deprived of your love
I'd soon be a wreck
Deprived of your love
All music would cease
Melodies will not comfort
Nor offer release
All sound except anguish
My ears will not hear
Deprived of your love
I'd go deaf my dear
Derived of your love
Wine is not sweet
The sour bite of vinegar
When my tongue it meets
My pallet forgets
The taste of your lips
Deprived of your love
Bitterness in each sip
Deprived of your love
This tender skin you adore
Would harden to touch
And I'd feel it no more
The soft warmth of you
Gone from my numb hands
Deprived of your love
never feel warm again
Deprived of your love
Wild flowers would fade
The sweet scent of cedar
That upon you pervades
Forever I would seek it
That fragrance of us
I'll Lose all good sense
If Deprived of your love
A yearning heart longs for love everytime
Malice it receives time without a dime
Shadowed with the belief of being solo
Trust in hope but always been the one to follow
When certain uncertainties just dont make a difference
Holding on too tight to a loose end
Caged by a yelling heart wanting to be mended
But is pricked to the point where it can't bear no more
Wishing to be the heartfelt one and let go
Bringing out that zeal to prove its worth before the world
Saying"You can make things right, Go on and throw those unprocessed lemons into these turning blades and make your tasty lemonade pampered with ice cubes"
It lets go of the past memories bruising
Hoping to creat a fresh start and new beginnings
Patches up what's broken and lost
Breaking through thy blackened shadow at all cost
Forever remembering to cool up after the days of exhaustion
Cause at the end all that was derived from those prickly thorns were sterilized into my account
The mole of a substance
Avogadro Constant
Molar mass
borax and colemanite
boron is derived
from these bornite
minerals
volcanic springs
orthoboric acid
the most important of these is
rasorite
naturally occurrence
from the weathering of
rock material
sourced from
air, soil and water
mass number of 11
and containing 5 protons
and 6 neutrons.
full-scale fusion
B-111
I AM ABIHAIL. Abilhail Adamilo Katarma-My Father Daughter
I am Abihail
I am Abihail
A daughter of the most high
I am the daughter of the most high
I am daughter of the most high
I conceal myself openly
In the presents of this world
All hail Father
My Father is strong
My Father is strong
He named me "Ablhail"
My Father is strong
My Father is strong
My name is... My people full of grace
I've derived from earthen man
My spirit encased in a vessel
As I endure life's long lessons
I am Abihail
Tha! Beloved Beautiful
Daughter of Elohim
I am Abihail
Strong and mighty my strength my resolve
You Are My All I acknowledge and honor you
I do I am Father's Joy His precious beloved girl
I am wisdom I am courage I am of I am
My Father enjoys My Father rejoices sing praises
And heavenly voices my Father is strong my people full of grace derived from humanity I am...
Of I am
I am Abihail Adamilo Katarma
4/6/25
Written words by
James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
I will constantly try to raise the bar.
Strive for greatness; that's certainly in me.
Destined to be a noble superstar.
Break through rusted chains that will set me free.
My gateway is Christ, it's all biblical.
Feelings trap me within endless struggles.
All the pain I've endured is minimal.
He gives me my strength, all of my muscles.
Dispense my hope to those who are deprived.
As I'm not on this battlefield alone.
My compassionate solace they derived.
Attacks turn from immense boulders to stones.
The fear of losing hope invades my mind.
But still, a spark of faith keeps me aligned.
Fear a distressed emotion brought on by the belief that something dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat will occur. It only gains strength when you feed it faith. Growing into an outrageous ember, igniting every corner of hope it’s flames chase. It’s the unconscious decision to give up and for lack of better words, screw faith. But it’s in those moments we need to lock in, steady our ground, to again mount the horse of life before, untrue lies pull us back down. Using lessons as tools, from past trials that were fear derived. Turning them into hope as our hope is what keeps our faith alive. Some tracks are rocky, not always smooth.. If it was just flat, there would be no need for hope or faith within this life for flesh covered fools. It’s the hardships and heartaches that germinate our seeds, for faith, to bloom. I always lean harder into mine, when every other turn I manage to take, leads me to a dead-end, where fear and anger ruminate. It’s in those moments I beg for the spirit of uncertainty to relinquish my lack of faith, replace it with trust that everything, even on our worst days, will be ok just don’t invite fear to play.
To be truly, fully present
Of consciousness and
answering why we are here,
These studies are a promising field of research
Yet by powerful backlash
research has halted
For severe depression and PTSD
Universities use micro-doses of psylocibin
Derived from mushrooms
It lowers stress and doesn’t
cause hallucinations
Follow up studies show dramatic improvement
of conditions not previously responsive
to conventional medications and therapies
This chemical is still widely banned
Except for a few controlled studies
Underway at accredited, renowned medical
and psychiatric departments
at major universities
When popular conventional
therapies prove ineffective
the 60’s and 70’s proved a fertile ground
for those seeking help
New age treatment called Primal Therapy,
When religious cults such as love Guru’s
Hare`Krishna mantras, Buddhist chants
of Nam-Myoho-renge-kio or being shakabukued
or Hollywood fix its— for anxiety’s
mental illness failed,
Came the psychotherapists
and the latest Primal Scream Therapy
new and experimental, so-called Hollywood therapists
took it to levels unimaginable and a bit too far
and should have never been licensed!
Written: March 21, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Quote": The bliss derived from the splendor of nature, adorned with a stunning variety of flowers is a delight for all the creatures that occupy this earth. By Poet
****************
A crimson tulip basks in the sun-drenched meadow
Luring a dancer dressed in a jewel state of ecstasy
Tender, an array of wings glides across Kismet Gate
Pirouettes with delight mutter on velvety petals
Sipping aromatic ambrosia amid the bloom
Soaring across the air, seeking honeyed nectar
Butterflies flutter over radiant flower shadow!
They, the idols who have the right given by you to dispose of your own soul, offer to admire their wise reflections, but do not offer to share their wisdom with them. They don't want you to be on the same level of insight. This is the real culture, derived from the word "cult" - you are allowed to admire, but you cannot touch it, or even come too close. It's a temple value, and it's not for everyone. Only for initiates who know the unwritten rules and rituals. Protected by the state, this plug is invisibly nailed to every object of worship, be it music or painting. But the state is not the best custodian, so only the maniac collectors can provide genuine guarantees of safety that last as long as they are alive. When there are no passionate lovers, both passion and its once adored objects disappear.
Leaves a fall in rain
And pile one on another,
Rain as if beats rain.
….
Two hands do when clap,
Silence overlaps with one,
Peaceful in the lap.
….
Parents give a face
And body to the faceless,
To soul still where’s face?
….
We parted long ere,
Eons have passed ever since,
We’re still together,
And not a moment
Separated us ever,
Not a stray instant.
All day long sans let,
Facing are we each other,
Yet, we’ve never met.
_____________
Haiku |19.02.2025| irony, poetry, spiritual
Note: ‘Rain as if beat rain’ sounds quite paradoxical. But on deep thinking it is not. Two hands can clap. One hand in the lap, peace overlaps. One’s pre-birth face, and others. But this is how Zen Buddhists (the word Zen derived from Sanskrit Dhyan) used to express their mystical experience in riddles called koan (from Kena Upanishad). Later on, these were derived as poetic expressions that reached perfection as haiku.
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