(“Anagogical Moments Merit Badge”, 2011, original oil)
“God, God, I see God”
Everywhere in everything
Not because God is something
But because IT is nothing
And so reflected in everything
The world is a chimera, a play, a mirage
And illusion of our own making
A trap we put ourselves in
For comfort and security
But God is always there to shake it up,
The one constant to guide us.
What else is there worth seeing
Worth thinking and talking about?
What else really is there?
(4/19/26)
He measures mornings in miles,
each breath a promise to begin again.
The mirror doesn’t judge,
it waits—
silent witness to the burn
that makes him feel alive.
He counts not calories but control,
a kind of devotion the body demands,
each rep a small confession
to the god of effort.
Others pray for ease;
he prays for the ache to stay—
a steady reminder
that the heart, too,
is a muscle made holy by use.
There was a day set aside for the wedding
but the groom was very much dreading
it would be the same day
his grand final would play
and that’s where it looked it was heading
Alas his worst fears came true
So what was he s’posed to do?
Change the date
he’d marry his mate
or send a substitute to say “I do”?
Of course, that could be done covertly
The team had done it before with Curtley
but if the bride found out
she’d give him a clout
and the next month he’d spend inertly
So I hope we have the real groom today –
shame on his mates for staying away
but he stayed away too
when best man for Stew
and the ladies can still throw the bouquet
The bride is also very fond of her sport
loving a good tussle on field and on court
It’s clear and plain
she knows Glen’s pain
and she’s the kind and compassionate sort
This wedding’s been the perfect storm
The bride’s team’s in awesome form
Today’s their final too
So what’s Jane s'posed to do?
Miss it, or follow the wedding norm?
I’m sorry the groom’s grumpy and pre-occupied
but the final’s on now and he’s not in the side
but Jane empathizes
with his sacrifices
having hired a substitute bride!
My brows, unwittingly.
It had all the earmarks of being light.
An evildoer made of white.
I'll reply by chance that he calls.
For my deep heart scares.
Alike he was joined by a sidekick.
Furthermore, replied the phone.
I'm a tremendous fire fan.
Her fuming shouting was thundering.
I'm a chump for cheeks.
It isn't easy.
What has happened to the cores?
Except for my skeleton.
As though the mountains had infringed.
My heart was shattered.
Written: September 8, 2021
Fortunately, this family friendly function,
finds me festive and not feisty in my fifties.
Forgive me if I am not the first
and you may have figured out,
that the fact-finding letter "F"
is my favorite letter
of the alphabet.
There are three thousand words
that start with the letter "F"
to which one hundred and ninety-one
are four letter words.
And like most of us,
coming from a foul mouth family,
I'm pretty sure we used
every one of them.
Now this is not football,
you must be full of fiber and feces
if you think I'm going to fumble.
Now! When it comes to women.
My fantastic fantasies and fascination
of the fine figures of the female form.
My favorite fun-loving fiancée
who I met at a Fountain?
was the final finish of a fetish.
Where I use to
find'em fix'em and forget'em.
a lover of things
which are next to godliness. . .
she cleans with gusto
Jan. 6, 2019
for the Senryu on Mother Contest of Jenish Somadas
(although our interests are very different in many way, I think I got from her my nature of being fanatical about all the things I love!)
His spectacles were fanatic,
The way his cool sea - blue eyes peered through them.
The way even they couldn’t help but gleam when he smiled.
The black frames brought more mystery to his beautiful façade.
Oh, how I would fall for his charismatic verses over and over again.
Oh, how his rhymes, like roaring ocean waves, could both exhilarate me and horrify me.
Like his catfish hanging helplessly on a fishing wire,
His eye beaming through the frames of his glasses
Joyous of his catch,
So I would bite the bait over and over again
Just to gaze on the man with the fanatic spectacles.
I’m a fan of fans, I am,
In any shape or form,
From window box to ceiling-hung
Or those beyond the norm.
They gently stir a breeze around
To keep the heat at bay
And when the sweat starts dripping down,
They help it dry away.
On days when it is brutal out,
A.C.’s the better choice,
Yet fans don’t get the dues they’re owed
So let me be their voice.
Remember folding paper fans
When you were just a kid?
I always felt so grateful
For the cooling that they did.
And in my first apartment
When I couldn’t pay for air,
A box fan in my window
Made it comfy to be there.
So become a fan fanatic
And acknowledge this device
Which won’t cool us off completely,
But enough to feel quite nice.
white & black these are some of its color..
square, sphere, heart shape and more..
bitter, sweet and bittersweet..
with nuts, almonds and mallows..
local up to a patisserie made..
they are all a delight..
I love it when i put in my mouth..
slowly and slowly it will melt..
noting and savoring it's taste..
it's said an anti-oxidant
Also an aphrodisiac..
Rich in Calcium and minerals..
Releases happy hormones called endorphins..
I am a certified lover of chocolates..
by: olive_eloi
10:12pm
04/11/2013
IS THERE A FANATIC IN THE ATTIC?
There sat they, satisfied
satiated knowing hundreds of souls had died
there sat they midst flat bread and Allah's wine
making plans that would send shivers up my spine
missals, mortars, murder and mayhem
we, always vigilant and leery of them
a man walks into a large train station
and for this he gains whores in Heaven and fascination
face the west for that's whereupon their eyes remain
never certain if, under their turbans, there's a brain
the youthful, the elderly, the old and the new
one must consider that which a fanatic extremest will do
Mrs. Jones in America fears Mrs. Al Newasrah' Muslim son
because each one is fearful because each one has a gun
and so they face each other on an arid land each grimace a sign
because both have plans that would send shivers up my spine
© 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Fly little seagull, fly with your oily wings
Or have some tasty dead oily fish
It will slip down the throat with ease
We humans call it a Gulf oil spill dish
We humans all love to go to the beach
Lay there all oiled up and tan
Why cannot the birds and fish
The Gulf oil will help it really can
The governments allow us to chop the trees
Destroying the rain forests with axes
Why not a little oil spill
They’ll cover it by raising taxes
So don’t pay any attention to the Gulf
And the life destroyed by the oil spill
Just lay back relax and enjoy
We’ll mop it up later just chill
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