Old Man
(for Pema)
The older I get the more I feel I fade away.
It’s not a bad thing it’s just what is
As old friends die off one by one
While others just drift away
And the passions I once knew
Become nothing more than a lingering scent.
Maybe it takes too much effort
To do or feel anything more,
Maybe it’s simply having done that
And been there so many times before.
Eventually even the joyous play
Of dogs or children
Only remind me how tired I am,
Tired but still happy
With an inward glow
Of appreciation for the Life that flows
Within me and without me.
(9/8/25)
The not so silent,
Frantics on the march.
Hovering over,
Waiting to pounce.
Because we forgot what life is all about.
Sending force full screams,
Too move people out.
Makes room for many more,
Who pay too land on our greener shores.
Not enough room?
Not enough work?
Not enough,
To share with everyone?
Who chooses,
Which will be the lucky ones?
Only the same,
As what we see.
Too much money,
Addicted to power.
Continues to look.
For people that are the same color.
Views their persecutions,
Are better than honey.
The bees don't agree,
Continue to die off.
At least they are free!
What is the shore without the sea
Aimlessly wondering watery dreams
Deferred desolate depressed empty
Is how I am without love in me
That one true love for which one is blind
Without it there is darkness blackest of times
Is like a blue bird without a heart song
No white wind of romance to carry it on
Without love there is nothing to fight for
No reason to desire life would be a bore
Amethyst art would starve forever more
No apple of the eye to amber adore
Without love music would be dead
The humming of machinery could be heard instead
Humanity would die off no kids born
Feelings would be liability and scorned
Without love I am an empty cocoa shell
With no inspiration no wishing well
No dedication or passion that bleeds
That is what lack of love does to me
Seeds sprout to become trees
Trees with ample green leaves
Leaves fully growing yellow
Yellow to dry under a hot sun
Sun causing the leaves to die off
Off the tree they hastily tumble
Tumbling silently wraths mother tree
Tree dismayed for losing her leaves
Leaves now lying at her foot inactive
Inactive and leaving nude the branches
Branches of mother tree cause her shame
Shame for the birds’ frantically watch
Watching powerlessly their home gone
Gone at sunset but waiting for another day
Day for seeking a new comfy home
Home of joy to host everyone joyfully
Poem by N. Mugisho
When roots wither
All parts dries up
the vines die off.
Facing global warming and climate change;
many species will vanish from the Earth.
Most don't seem concerned, and I find that strange;
being tethered to this planet from birth.
Whales might never swim our oceans again;
reefs are dying and may never return.
And we will lose vital links in life's chain
when the glaciers melt and the forests burn.
Tigers, jaguars, panthers, and leopards,
all the endangered cats, will disappear.
They'll die off, killed by ranchers and shepherds,
and their numbers are decreasing each year.
In seas where bottom trawlers aren't banished;
like a magician, Nature has vanished.
The rock stood
silent above the ocean's fray
gray speckled and chitted by time, sea-salted air, and shells airdropped by
gulls
Winds swept over it
rains drenched it
the sun beat kindly…and unkindly upon it
Families visited and rested on it
…their voices filling the spaces and then leaving it again
Ants would come and ants would go
spritely green grass would grow up beside it, bleach in the summer sun to blond and die off again... in the chill of fall
The rock remained
never coming and never going
but always there to be found
the rapture
Each story fell to the ground
feathers were collected
in the die-off different colours
prismed in the silver dust
of moon eclipsing sun
the in-between time
where the sky parted
like torn curtains
the Grimoire words
flew off the page
into the aether
black keys fed
to speak golden spells
bringing life back screaming
from the black open caverns
of the banished and repelled
bit-by-bit the brimstone cracks
and sparks from the depths of death
the mortal substance skerrick,
near to invisible but heard
for what it is now, seraphim
3 sets of wings, rolls off the emptiness
in echoing tears the becoming breaks
through waves rapturefarious
collecting immortal strength
from the deep ink pockets of dark
mined mind firmly set concrete
and contracted in the fires of hell
the phoenix rises like a raptor
its beating heart lit
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Casshern” / Ursine Vulpine
https://youtu.be/nRY5pcA4jk8
"Oxygene 8 Megamix" / Jean Michel Jarre
https://youtu.be/LfkqJOAEsFM
rapturefarious
rapturefurious
https://www.britannica.com/topic/seraph
Winter Baby, Blues
Oh baby you left your boots in Asheville where you
didn’t even get to hike the Blue Ridges before the new
year turned over hittin the drafty door just Iike
all the resolutions that come the same every January
for the frigid air that has to last two weeks straight
or the fleas won’t die off so let the wind’s chilling throes
of cold tear your eyes winking at sparkling on all
the icicles hanging from the house with some becoming
quite massive as each noon’s sun allowed
a thawed drop or two to roll down though never drop
to the earth just as the angels keep our dreams from
being crushed under the mounds of drifting
snow so don’t groan baby because you left your
puffer coat at the airport when you ran to get on the plane
where your mittens now remain under your
seat waiting to warm another’s fingers so
then let me wrap your scarf all around you with our plans
for hot cocoa and quilts to stop sweet baby winter’s blues
It is always comforting to know,
As you grow
That your childhood heroes,
As fixed stars in the firmament,
,
Remain for stability
In the changing aging of life
But as they die off
As, well, they should
In the course of life
Like the passing of your parents
Which raises you to the next rung,
Of being a parent yourself
You must come into your own
And become a star to someone else.
John Thomas Tansey
Not the beer, of course!
Death to you, Covid-19
Mass-murderer
Coward in hiding, festering,
attacking surreptitiously
Sucker-punching
Men and women,
young and old.
Babies and animals, too.
I bet you hate puppies!
Shame on you
throwing poison darts
at people in the dark!
Come into the light,
you monster you!
Is it because you know
your ugly mug
is good enough
for decking?
Die off soon, evil one.
Date written: 05/05/2020
Everything changes
Places and faces
Time marches on
I try to embrace it
People come and fade away
Life is full of relationships
Some move on, others die off
All in search of happiness
The population is out of control
Intelligence is in short supply
Dumb people are very dangerous
Don’t let ignorance be why you die
Everything grows
The people and plants
Throughout the whole universe
An evolutionary romance
It’s all mixed in melancholy
Madness within a dream
We are all simply one
Nothing is as it seems
Life is a dance
Let good vibes be your music
Use your life to spread positivity
Find your voice and use it
Find the person you love
Sing them to sleep
After all, everything changes
Cherish the love you get to keep
D.R.L.
Bombarding the bong like oxygen is wrong
drinking alcohol like you’re a bottomless hole,
The speed the base the MDMA
the pace of life wastes you away
cocaine and ecstasy
next day looking wrecked to me
Ketamine replaces vitamins
face changes, unrecognisably
Why buy more supplies
When supplies die off
and you die slow
Unhappy unless under the influence,
life caught up in the drug undertow
You hear how he is training.
But you never know for what.
You see he isn't easily distracted.
You hear how he has a gift,
You learned how he endorses bud,
Getting higher than expected.
How can the sun sing a tune?
Well when you see where he lays,
It's a beautiful understanding.
This life we all share is just a start,
One day we will all be empty,
Lifeless cells will die off.
And a higher power apparently takes over.
You see how he over comes adversity.
He is quick to his feet,
He stands ready for action.
How can one man still learning have any impact on his life?
The sun sings a different tune,
It bathes us in life, warmth and love,
But the moon is just the opposite.
He has a powerful force behind him,
He digs deep into his own mind.
Feeling the metamorphosis cleanse his soul.
He has a whole new way of living,
No longer dead he finds his light.
Even the sun sings a different tune.
As i sit alone, with a cigarette, The stale smoke stings
my eye. It starts to water, like the tears of losing a loved one. sitting there, imagining: What kind soul would love an angry man?
The smell of burnt wood, maybe Oak mixed with Pine. Probably a fire that was exhausted by a neighbor who lives near.A grey spotted dog lays dreaming, wondering maybe if he's running from me, as well. Maybe I should stop this kind soul, from my hurtful self. As the feelings can be replaced. The black and blue that's worn on her, can't hide. She mustn't cry over this guy. He is only misunderstood, that's not fair to her. He Burns and Mask's himself, to weaken her to a burnt ash on the ground. Exhaling the last of your breath, just to look up, and wonder why you are not around. You know why you sit alone, only to realize that the cigarette was done. So was your soul. So he knows why he wants to die off, but never too bold as to why I sit alone.
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