Welcome to: Hard on Yourself Prison,
Where sentencing is added to every decision.
Driven into vexatious thoughts,
A cycle of emotions, accusations wrought.
Caught in wordy why’s and wherefores,
Redundant objectives only multiplying more.
Questioning the inquisitioner:
Are they a good fibber or an ambiguous listener?
The harshest judge lives within..
To start afresh—where do I begin.
Let’s pack the critical encumbrances that weigh us down..
And loosen every tether that keeps us bound.
My life was good without love
Free of all encumbrances
I was a happy man…
Or, so I thought.
Love had always played dirty with me
It gave me nothing but heartache and pain.
I turned my back to the world,
gave cold shoulder to my kith and kin
turned away from my loved ones.
But then, I was also very lonely,
all the time--- days and nights,
like landing in a calaboose
I had made myself incarcerated.
So I made peace with love
and thought
why not give love a second chance?
~Contest: Love or Bust
~Sponsor: Karen Jones.
You have your own apartment? So far, good.
You also own a yacht? That’s so much better!
No children and no ‘ex’s – understood?
Just follow my requirements to the letter.
You’re free of all encumbrances, like pets:
you mentioned stocks and shares in that last note:
this match-up looks as good as first-love gets:
so send a recent photo – of the boat.
to wend through golden grasses of my past
with chill winds at my back from o'er the hill
oh how I wish the glow of spring would last
thus far behind me stands that boy, miscast
while just a jester, much too bright and shrill
to wend through golden grasses of my past
the latter lad, thus pressed to love too fast
so saved his heart to burnish, soft and still
oh how I wish the glow of spring would last
he stumbled into manhood, loves amassed
with wisdom gained from tragedy and thrill
to wend through golden grasses of my past
encumbrances and burdens grew too vast
while finding warmth in darkness and a pill
oh how I wish the glow of spring would last
so now I cross the fields of time, steadfast
renewed with all the love one heart can will
to wend through golden grasses of my past
oh how I wish the glow of spring would last.
Written a ton of poems
Many of them silly, many about love
Have decades of experience
But the love I'm feeling now
Surpasses any I have ever experienced before
In my whole entire life
Free of encumbrances or prejudices
Finally able to just let the love flow
And where it stops, is where it stops
My heart explodes with excitement
The thought that after all these many years
I have finally found the one
That special someone with the heart of an angel
The soul of the most precious being
I have ever had the pleasure to know
I call her my love, my absolute treasure
I'm on top of love's mountain
Way up high feeling the fresh waves of love
Engulf me with a rapture sublime
Writing poetry brings out my deepest feelings
Feelings I have never ever felt before
Even after all these many years
At 89, I'm still learning how to love
“The mind is an auto-camera. Its pictures are the window to our personality.”
-Quote by Poet
If only you knew the power of the mind,
You would daily activate its use,
You would paint a picture and see it jump out of the portrait,
You would visualize something and see it materialize.
If only you could open the door of the mind,
Allow a free flow of its scripts,
Push beyond its encumbrances,
Then you would understand the mystery of the mind,
You would know the strength of its depth.
Though the night comes to mind,
Though gloom comes to its room,
It can arise from the ashes,
It can reach for the light,
It can soar to great heights.
If only you knew how far the mind can travel in a serene ambience,
If only you knew the potency of the mind in tranquillity,
Then you would seek for such a place,
Then you would strive for such a moment.
May 15, 2024.
Written a ton of poems
Many of them silly, many about love
Have decades of experience
But the love I'm feeling now
Surpasses any I have ever experienced before
In my whole entire life
Free of encumbrances or prejudices
Finally able to just let the love flow
And where it stops, is where it stops
My heart explodes with excitement
The thought that after all these many years
I have finally found the one
That special someone with the heart of an angel
The soul of the most precious being
I have ever had the exquisite pleasure to know
I call her my love, my absolute treasure
I'm on top of love's mountain
Way up high feeling the fresh waves of love
Engulf me with a rapture sublime
Writing poetry brings out my deepest feelings
Feelings I have never ever felt before
Even after all these many years
I am still learning how to love
whims may become a blessing or a curse
pushing one toward certain ruin or worse
drinking from the deep well of evasion
well versed in dark practices of persuasion
fixating on dreams of what ought to be
avoiding what mirrors reality
totally free of social encumbrances
in spite of what the best assumption is
wandering through this life oblivious
hiding from anything too obvious
urge to be free of all expectation
jumped right into without hesitation
do not question need to swallow it whole
subtle art of self-induced mind control
I see the inequities
and the disdainful disparities
I see your struggles
and the testy tussles
I see your falls
and the slow crawls
I see your steady climb
through all the slimy grime
I see your perseverance
through all the encumbrances
I see your calm
through the storms
I'm omnipresent
I'm omnipotent
I'm omniscient
I'm everywhere
I'm all-powerful
I'm all-knowing
I see, so have no fear
my faithful servant, I am here
I've been preparing you,
so remain steadfast and get
ready for anew
He was a gentle gentleman.
Quiet and refined,
Patient and kind.
He lived alone
In a small house
Made of bluestone
Without a spouse.
No encumbrances at all
He had no wish for a wife,
To complicate his life
He could never fall
In love.
He could not bear,
To start an affair.
She might make demands,
Or command him
To do something
He did not wish to do
He could already feel the string
Tightening around his throat
He felt he was going to choke
His face was turning blue.
Responsible for a wife
Not on your life,
Thought this gentle gentleman,
Rising from his chair
Looking debonair
He said I'll stay just as I am
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
I wish I could fly
I would fly into the inner recesses
Of wicked men's hearts
And plant tenderly flowers of love
I wish I could fly
I would fly from boredom to freedom
And from life's encumbrances
But they are the stuff life is made of
I wish I could fly
I would fly to all troubled spots in the world
And sow seeds of peace and harmony
Thereby enthroning equity and Justice
I wish I could fly
I would fly into the heart of Dictator Trump
And replace stupidity with wisdom
To acknowledge that election has been lost and won
I Am (IS..!)
These two simple words
Mark the nexus between
East and West..
This is the universal gospel
Burdened sometimes with
Too much commentary..
This gospel is available
To everyone everywhere
At all times..
Just sitting quietly.. proceed
Directly to recognition of
The vastness of..I Am
Without all of the
Encumbrances which usually
Attend...
Resurrection
The experience of
"I Am" ..alone
Without encumbrances
Indeed is.. the
Resurrection..our
Encumbrances are shed
In the experience of
Crucifixion..wherein
An eternal flame
Consumes all beliefs
In separation..
Allowing our walking
Walking Free today
And in all our days...
Words That Inspire Me
By Miracle Man
3/7/2020
Obstacles were not intended to be stop signs,
but encumbrances to induce thought
Character, is displayed by continuance beyond
where others thought we’d finish
Think of words as arrows;
Once a poison arrow has left its quiver, there remains time,
but once released from the bowstring,
there remains only remorse.
Our legacy will be measured by what we brought to the table,
not in what we carried away.
Don’t let pride hinder help,
A solitary spoke won’t hold up a wheel!
And a lonely life is a kissing cousin
To a fisherman’s empty creel.
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