carnal deviance
piercing sensuality
erecting smiles
My two eyes view the prize,
As atoms materialize,
Wise to my emotions,
They perform the chosen perspective.
Respective of my beliefs,
They achieve their directive,
Working with the collective,
Erecting a reality.
Gravity the force,
Keeping us on course,
We share it all with the source.
Intercourse with energy,
Is building the entity,
Created to be felt physically,
Viscerally experiencing what you see.
Learning about eternity,
And infinite possibilities,
Feeling everything intensely,
We start creating memories,
Imprinting them in galaxies,
And parallel realities.
The legacy of a timeline,
Intertwines with the Divine,
Yours mixes with mine.
All eyes shining on the prize,
We're seeing a new life rise,
The surprise on the horizon,
A rising son,
Shining light on another one,
Open your eyes and have some fun,
Because the journey is never done,
This prize is for everyone.
On the precipice of the fort you built,
and then abandoned,
stands this castle another is erecting.
So away with the pain you brought,
welcome the joy my new lover brings.
You defended all that makes love wilt,
you erased the warmth once in my heart, bit by bit,
till you erased everything with the joy you stole,
you left my vases with wilted roses—
the ones you gave when the last world war was fought.
In this castle built by my new lover,
love is watered now by peace of mind;
each room is filled with sweet fragrance
from freshly plucked roses and sunflowers—
it’s as if my garden can never wilt again.
So love thrives best within a castle, not behind a fort;
where pleasure swims like an eel without a boat,
no threat of fired shots begging for a shield.
How do you beg for a rehash of protection
meant for bullets, not for displeasure?
Gods of Men
Uniquely crafted
with the world in focus
Altered scripts
broken-off ancients scrolls
Erecting structures
in a malleable world
Setting hearts on fire
testing souls with trials
Romancing the sundial
allotting time, as we
usher in a new era
With each revolving door
usurping gods as men
Selling lives for less
Beloved, how sad you tread into the mist of lost dreams,
Wandering in the cold blue, befriending the forces that are your foes.
Beloved, how sad, born of magic, a soul crowned with whirlwinds of ecstasy,
Yet you claim your fate is the dark spirit, eternal and ill-fated.
Beloved, how sad, and yet, how human,
To cling to the thinnest hope with all the strength you can muster,
Erecting an altar in memory of shadows, calling it the only one that will matter.
In the flow of your consciousness, you entwine with fleeting phantoms and illusions,
Seeking solace in the crying wind, in the rain that hurts.
But deep within your soul, you know the magic is not lost, just hidden beneath a veil,
In every step through the darkness, there is a ray of light, a corner of ideal.
Beloved, how sad to see only shadows and sharp edges in destiny,
But how human to hope, to believe in the light that secretly beckons you.
Perhaps in this magical sadness lies the answer sought,
For even in the deepest night, you have kept a glimmer of hope.
Break my heart again and again,
Thoughtless words you speak at me,
What you think I want to hear,
Just proving what you fail to see.
Choices you make, love you take,
Spin the words, my fault you say,
Self-destruction, for whose sake?
In the end we all have to pay.
I gave you all I had to give,
Happiness it did not create,
I can see you, I can understand,
It's you that you hate.
You blame this, you blame that,
Nothing can ease your pain,
Lashing out, erecting walls,
Driving me away, in vein.
I will always cherish the life we had,
The time we spent when you were free,
Something changed, for the bad,
I just wish you could see.
If this is what you truly want,
Consider it done,
Enjoy yourself, find that thing,
Go and have some fun.
All I hope is that you remember,
That last embrace under the midnight sun.
Shut in this place
In close, closer, the walls move
Waning light as darkness grows
Ebbing joy and mounting woes
Claustrophobia erecting and waiving its sullen hand
Continually the mercury drops
This place is getting colder
A prisoner locked in a cell
The weary heart longs to bail
Out
Precatory eyes long to see outside
Outside of this place
Away from the cold, dark, moldy dampness
Nigh to warmth, radiance, and light
Out
Out of this place
ENJOY LIFE
I keep going on being strong and optimistic.
I meet morals melting mind in modesty
I admit that Life is reflection of a game
Rare chance to win or fair chance to lose.
Ready for conflict to confront at each front
being cool, energetic, or aggressive.
I approach running, rippling
in symmetry or asymmetry
leaving rhythmic charming patterns.
I respect ruthless truth,
morals on journey of life,
at ease or at strife.
In drama of life I play role
of dauntless warrior.
I keep going on erecting my head.
04/08/22
'What keeps me going on'
Contest by Cecelia Hopkins Drewer
Burning yearning for connecting
Bubbling in God’s embrace
Bliss pillar in form erecting
Blessings of divine grace
Love in love with God thus
In trust, boards the bliss bus
Going where He takes us
Soul consuming
Burning yearning
15-February-2022
Quietus
that is, the irregular wave breaks into parts,
discontinuous liquid mass of uneven foam.
I have these tiny scars on my hands,
but no trouble hearing the cosmos.
I was just looking at the sky,
the lack of a comet.
I cut off another piece of horizon,
erecting conceptual walls like shields,
something to help with the deficiencies, I thought,
a rough plan of mental protection.
this should be colored,
pleasant resorts containing the hits,
but I don't read this world clearly,
the tiny letters are shuffled around the corners,
they whisper among themselves, disperse, regroup.
so what I don't understand attacks me in phalanges,
misshapen group with a thousand edges
small deaths to mount.
As we approach a New Year’s dawning
It’s time to reflect on another year passed
What did we achieve in 2021?
Did we accomplish anything that will last?
Can we say the year was, basically, a good one?
We made the most of the time we were given,
Were we prudent about the way we lived?
Or, did we feel like we were perpetually riven?
I hope, in ’22, we can peacefully, come together
And learn to live with our differences,
Sharing the good from all our diverse experiences
Erecting new bridges and seldom building fences.
written December 27, 2021
The dark, darkest night
Oh crescent moonlight
A trace or slight glimmer
Divine stars abating all tremors
A dark night of the soul
Travailing darkness new and old
Singlely erecting from nothingness
Now, standing in divine abundance
Oh, beautiful bennu lifting its wings
From lowly ashes up, and up the bird sings
Super soul path sailing
Oh divine light, no more wailing
Lonely might be the lot
But alone, not alone, not
Cellphone monologue
I’ve been driving, you know the road is no highway,
how taxing, skirting potholes, cajoling the new jalopy
will be there for a candle lit supper, come what may.
Out of the glare, jacarandas form a fragrant canopy
into the glow of passion driving down Love Boulevard
Oh my, your texts been erecting toll gates between us!
I need money to get through to you, road is barred.
Do you honestly believe I deserve to be treated thus?
Sometimes a man has to make do with his love ration.
But the once-sweet ferments, then love loses a mate
when the woman darts in and out for material fashion
though she knows full well her lover is no Bill Gates.
Hard to believe we used to be such a rhyming couple
my said inadequacy has made me reel under the rubble.
Poetry is not for
erecting the concrete of the world,
but to realize the abstract ...
It’s not making material,
but densification of the ethereal ...
Poetry is elegy for a
dead feeling,
or consecration of
living
thinking..
Poetry does not come
from common place,
comes from the bowels
of Dreams... !
And you poet that of hers
if it serves ... what do you come for?
To hunt laurels
or to sow
raptures in this
life... !?
I fear Hatred has deepened
the thickets surrounding us,
erecting thorns where there
should be blooms.
I fear that we have defined fire
as the Condemnation of Chaos
rather than believing in the heat
of its pure, creative essences.
If there are fires to be spread,
may we be scorched with Love.
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