I choose to dwell in frothy clouds…
with a mindset unfixed
Random instincts spaced out
In the cumulus mix
An expansive effusion
Far out and beyond my temporal shackles
Free are my thoughts without prompt
Closed minds shallow and
desolate debacles
dissipate in this airy romp
On wispy clouds I dwell in…
high above I’ve risen
Here no need to reason
nor the blends of interpretation
Far away, so far from you, ascended
From the fiery pit below
which awaits my return
Where blazing saddles shame my name
where gross gossip lives and
bloody rumors stain,
Ablaze are the blame games
I dwell in cirrus pillows…
The scoped hemispheric
veils, bands and billows
Musings— using me
I chose to dwell in halo clouds
My mind with no refrains
Nothing to lose nothing to gain
A spirit free from hate
Soley my mind
Opens heaven’s gate
Time and tide flit so fast,
Forgetting how mellow memo faded.
So long pain and pining last,
Getting missing mood brocaded.
Strings in both hearts, rent by retrospective rift,
Amid murky mopes, melody of yore adrift.
Ring on single finger, fretted by foreshadowing frost,
Unto wild wind, faith for future tossed.
Elvani, if your charm did forsake my flattened rhyme,
Let my word salad flounder to fetch the past of your prime.
Elvani, if my flavor did flee your muffled fife,
Let your unvented sighs fill and figure the rest of my life.
Subtle, very subtle, yet the promise whispers in the trees.
The zinnias struggle with a push one last bud to sky unfurl,
While the neighbor's cat goes on the prowl for one more kill to squeeze.
Late September days will end and the unprepared imperil.
The strident cries heard in the sky are the sounds of birds going south.
Though crammed and touching wings at times, they fly with great effusion.
A squirrel hordes some nuts he's found by stuffing them in his mouth,
While looking for a ready den, the mice run in confusion.
The slowly, shortening days are the sun's bowing to appease
The tired flora/fauna pact that's desperate for a long rest,
But a softened whisper in the wind has changed to a cold breeze,
And ice and snow begin to form on the tallest mountain crest.
The emerald field of magnificent alps.
variety of colours radiating with brilliant effusion.
infinite beauties melting to the admiration of one.
depth overreaching all the boundaries of fickle fin.
pleasant jewels knotted by the Master of all knowledge.
A vast sphere mapping out discordant planes of time and eternity.
all the paths in concurrent course pointing to The Way,
with its pillars firmly grounded on the Truth,
come see the winding rivers with unalterable course to The Ligh.
A mine without a bottom, a sea without a shore.
inexhaustible depth beyond the pretenses of all tinsel
the well of eternal realities incomparable with earth's shadows
break your ego to grasp this golden pearl
let not jewels gather dust in the shelve,
Take and read to know thyself and thy God
and like the ox, drink it down to find Peace.
Spiderwebbed folds hang from each arm
as moss will from an aged cypress.
He sometimes raises haggard hands
as if he dreams of rising again,
or to cover bleary eyes.
The world is his mind.
Daylight a brief fluttering against closed lids.
Night floats above him,
he feels a light-headed immunity
from the gravity of death.
Outside in the hard-wired clamor
buses and trucks growl up droning hills.
Order and chaos are ushered in and out
of pallid pools of sunshine
and the wheezing colostrum’s
of a cloudy effusion.
Most who travel are asylum workers,
the old brick systems of sanity
must be maintained,
the matrix clipped, then the disused
swept under crumbling foundations.
The infrastructure, the fabric
the kapok and pith,
the nuts and bolts of an older age -
it all needs workers.
The dying man hitchhikes under a hand,
feels the warmth of flesh in full-bloom.
He sighs,
the nurse hears only a gurgle,
she is monitoring,
the winking machines are monitoring
while camara’s monitor everything.
He remains in his world,
always sinking upwards
toward what he knows not,
but it’s not here so he does not care.
BROKEN
I can’t say how it feels,
But surely know where it hurts.
I’m not a twister of fate,
Only drained by the flakes of emotions.
I’m not a twister of words,
But find solace in my ink
Poured on white, dividing my thoughts into:
Sharing its pains and relief.
I’m not a lover of man,
But I do know an immortal
Dressed in flair skin.
Effusion of overflowing wisdom
Expands in my lungs
Out of watery tongue
At a trivia sight
I’m really not a twister of words,
But twisting is my favorite way
Of which my cognition is told.
Prevent Instance
What we will need is a preclusion,
Which will always prevent effusion,
And left out,
Without a doubt,
So we can avoid all the confusion.
Jim Horn
'Tis no collusion in the collision
or delusion in the decision
But the effusion of elision
in the intrusion of the incision
Accents the protrusion of provisions
in the suffusion of supervision
By which diffusion of division
in the exclusion of excision --
All goes to show
the profusion of confusion
~ in this here revision!
Paroxysm of pain inflicts this pen,
tears cry poetic allusion.
When petal hearts are misunderstood,
life is full of confusion.
Distasteful thoughts set camp in my mind,
an unwelcome intrusion.
Virgin pages innocent in white,
yearn to wear this mind's effusion.
Too many deep unanswered questions,
lead to a false conclusion.
When judgement lacks honest intellect,
darkness defeats diffusion.
Sun is cautious to cast my shadow,
intolerant in inclusion.
Forever immersed in freezing rain,
victim to their collusion.
When metaphorical daggers scar,
they say it's an illusion.
Melancholic lacerations scream,
ignored by deaf delusion.
I'm bleeding, but you ignore this blood,
it's too late for a transfusion.
Silently sad soul seeks solitude,
far from sound in seclusion.
Silent One
Simple Musings
1 February 2018
The River
The river sings its sweet lament
in ancient voice softly lowing,
vibrant melodies subtly meant
to plumb the depths of our knowing.
Around each bend it curves, flowing
onward toward its fated reunion
with unkempt sea, wild and blowing;
embracing briney communion.
Its serpentine course scars the land
in undulant brown profusion;
shimmering gold in twilight's hand,
a gift of nature's effusion.
Pregnant spring plies it, unleashing
tempest's turgid downpour to slake
the lusty spate's thirst unceasing,
leaving ravaged marl in its wake.
Torrid summer's breath chars the soil
and saps the river of its strength,
but cool and sweet, the river's toil
paints a green ribbon down its length.
Demon winter glazes the earth,
garbs the river in frigid gown,
draws a pane of ice over its girth
but fails to stay its flowing down.
Since time out of mind, the river
has carved canyons from stubborn stone
and sought naught but to deliver
its lifeblood back to heaven's home.
TENDER MERCIES
Tender mercies on us shower
From The Supreme ’s sacred tower
Hungry get a sumptuous meal
Angry get a soothing heal
Barren blessed with lovely child
Lost absolved from scary wild
True confession granted pardon
Buds fresh bloom in wilted garden
Homeless get a safe shelter
A fireplace in chilling winter
Drowning rescued in someone’s guise
Distraught guided through friend wise
Marital bliss, trustworthy mate for lonely
Door opens for one who knocks sincerely
His love and grace for us is in profusion
Counting blessings lets submit grateful effusion
17th October 2016
Hidden beneath the hoard,
These instruments stowed and forgotten,
Keys to the reminiscence and rewards,
Too precious to ever be abandoned,
Each unlocks a distinct Portal,
Echoes frozen in time,
Discover a glimpse of the immortal,
Through such a temporal design,
Seeking...
A parchment found with magical effusion.
Repeated in breath, propelling me above,
Reliving...
Revealing comprehension, relieving disillusion,
A remembrance of moments in love.
26th July 2016
The French expression is exquisite,
fat succulent globes glowing darkly,
but if you're looking for length look
to the East, although they lack girth.
Yet the Greeks do it best
sleek glossy orbs, rubbed with
olive oil then laid in their bed and
immersed in an effusion of
ripe succulent Roma slowly
simmered with garlic, oregano
and perhaps a few chilies, if you like it
hot and then covered with a thick
white sauce béchamel and lasciviously
savoured with a mature rich red.
woe the effusion of soft petals
pouring out from your eyes
the current of endearment surging from your heart
your kindness embraces my essence
your love my constance in the dimming realm
you need a hand to hold
you feel so restless and old
spread your wings and be so bold
we will fly together in the streets of gold
new stories will be told
never again you will be cold
love together we will unfold
darling I’m here for you to be consoled
rivers flow through us row by row
together we will turn the tide
its you whom i will confide
your touch and loving graces
yours is one through many faces
together we will turn many pages
consumed by your affection
beauty is your complexion
your filled wth perfection
in you i can see my reflection
your the one true thing from heaven above
my one and true love
Genial to avoid confrontation
Baseborn kind, complaisant character
A spurious recital, a cheap imitation
Apocryphal mind, and comical creations
Counterfeited Christ
An unholy effusion
Sons of Belial
Clutch arcane knowledge
Esoteric information
Delve into oracular verse.
Deadened faith
Recondite belief denuded denials
Portentous and abstruse
Divested of the truth
Desolate road
Traveled day after day
Seriatim in miles
Strangled in hyperbole
Hypothetical noose
Cheaply loose
Tightening
methodically
Suicidal salvation
Covertly clandestine
Do what art wilt
Deliver the chosen
indoctrinate guilt
Derision to the destined
To learn love over hate
Adoration to inculcate
Imbue their sick lessons.
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