O gossamer, thy needles.
They shine like suns at play.
Bands of fate in full? She pulls!
Faster grow, O hay!
Erosion, art thou harbinger?
Kingdom gone? Returned?
Battlefield, thy prey! O cur!
How my heart has burned!
Tremendous time, thy measure.
Each minute to work out.
Poisoner, thy pleasure!
Dismay, decay, doubt!
Fine flickering in free fall?
Plight of a far-flung hope?
Funeral, thy darkest pall!
Invincible rope!
Creek trickling down the cliff?
Cold the water gets.
Faster, peasant! Pole that skiff!
He who shirks regrets!
Thistle in an empty field?
Spartan on the shield.
Wound in side that never healed.
Heart-blood a-congealed.
O xylophone, thy plaintive note.
Balloons love to float.
O ye travelers, pack thy tote!
Red the riddle rote...
earth star chakra my killick, subliminal subpersonal connects me to core of planet’s centre, spinning yet rooted in quiet mirth
absorbing misaligned energy in sturdy girth
intuits heartfelt frequency exchanges
across planetary consciousness gauges
below Gaia’s benign surfaces it modulates
where own wisdomed faith undulates
steady Will humming stable solid secure
no other anchor would I endure
awareness finely tuned filamented fibres
reaches far flung corners shadowed or
light, without single flinch fight or flight
authority with divine responsibility dear
centring my substance as an emperor does
holding disciplined foresight unseen safe
signals settled velocities where I am to walk
intentions sure of next waiting chorded port
underground star exuding strength, cohort
of ages, missioning goals it never aborts
"Having grown up in an idyllic village, I consider myself as blessed. I was rid of all rigid formalities of urban living. Enjoyed the artless innocence of countryfolks, breathed fresh air, occasionally pranced through wilderness, talking to wildflowers and butterflies" - By Poet
There’s nothing like the lovely rustic charm,
Sent out by far flung lush green country farm.
Where trees in glee sweep heaven with their crown,
And songbirds, the surrounding valley drown.
There the air, fresh and sweet like forest glade,
And Heaven blesses rich, the country wide.
Where the rural folk in their toil and pride,
With their artless and modest life reside.
To such idyllic bliss, I long to go,
Where life like a silent river shall flow.
Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
Looking Never Found.
When did the searching start ?
Perhaps at the very first beat,
of an innocent, uncorrupted, heart.
Perhaps a dark nights lullaby rhyme?
When the seekers eyes, were unblinded,
or in that soothing voice counting time.
Maybe in that sunlights far flung view?
Looking for vague external questions,
to quench a thirst, raw and bitter to you.
Maybe waves of goodbye clenched in fists?
That well hidden dwell, deep in your soul,
you persist to bind chains, just can't resist.
These angels born of restlessness
Soliloquies of dreams and lace
Dance among the gilded tears
Upon the pages of thy face
Yet from thy lips my heart devours
Rising from that hallowed well
Each and every far flung flower
Tis said from where all passions dwell
No greater glory for my ears
No fonder words are ever spoken
Than these three words for all the years
From a heart but newly woken
Development should be inclusive:
From far flung to the urban
From countryside to cityside
From the least to the greatest
From local to international arena
It's like a road, a railway
A blueprint, an organizational chart
A system or a scheme that everyone passed
Together hand in hand will improve, no one is left behind
A leader has short and long term solution
Crafting ideas and laws that benefit people up
Up in livelihood development consumption
Up in financial status development
Up in educational system development
Up in science and technology development
Up in research and development initiative
Up in marine and agricultural sustenance
Up in natural disaster mitigation and prevention
Up in government infrastructures and good governance
Up in digitalization process and innovation
Up in job placement and poverty reduction
Up in communication and in frequency
Excellent leaders think One Hundred Years ahead of his time.
1985. We looked for signs
not so much had changed
Wars in far-flung parts –
the same-O-blame-O.
An acceptable amount of body bag counts.
Was Orwell too early to be this late?
1996. Upheavals are restricted to
marginalized mobs. Heads are talking more,
there is a nameless fear and it's getting near.
Fewer western countries are smoking, though
many simmer silently.
There was this elongated period,
decades drained away
leaving only a vague residue,
a smear of narcissistic self-indulgence
begat a numbness.
Then we began to crave more.
2024. Now we see it.
its head is a swollen tumor,
it talks in tooth bites,
monstrous cover-ups go unchallenged,
its control is iron clad.
The monster is now global,
it gobbles up dissident thought,
it re-imagines the nature of
Jello.
The only way forward now, is through
the monster's ever narrowing ********,
besides,
most now consider
the nature of the beast
to be the same that it ever was.
He had pals once, he had mates,
he once, twice and many times after
had women.
He had a hat but he lost that.
Lost the girls, lost pals, lost mates.
He had to admit
that all he once knew were disappearing,
he himself, was disappearing,
bits of him
had already been cut out
to be burnt up in Hospital incinerators.
The details of those many far flung places,
(all his peripatetic wanderings),
were disappearing one by one,
one temple,
one hotel, one mountain at a time.
One day he will awake
get himself ready to go out to walk his dog,
then remember to late,
that his dog had disappeared
about the same time
they both got throat cancer.
For now, he instinctively checks his pockets
for whatever is left.
I am being here I exist all around
Omnipresent in the flare of heaven
Far and beyond the beyond! My
Destiny is everywhere all at once
Contrived concealed in the PRIME
of TRIUMPHS and blistering efforts
Of try and trying merciless labor!
Where ARE THE FAVORED?
They must taste this flavor! First
For fortunate ones though they are
Far flung?! I AM BEING! The favored
WILL BE THE TOWER OF MY POWER!
Four they have known. Want for EONS
THESE can NOT any a JUST while
Be denied. They only GROW stronger
I am BEING in PERSISTENCE I DWELL
and do SPELL this EARTH with
Eeeze. This IS INSATIABLE meaning
I AM BEING. Continual resistance
And shall always ETERNALLY BEING
WE BE WE WILL EXISTENCE being
We BE WE BEING! WE! I AM BEING.
Like nomad soul, he flew away
Looking for a fine place to stay
A deck of cards, full of aces
He searched gold in far flung places
His great nickname means "rattan bag"
He's a packer, moved like fierce slug
He hiked on mountains, walked on plains
In search for bountiful fountains
Served his folks as barrio captain
On valley of Sierra Mountain
For many years, he lit the flame
That brought his bright spark into fame
Oh! Bagsangi, as he was known
Many hearts and souls, he has blown
On the mountains of Sandelain
His memory was left to dine
In memory of my grandfather
Mariano "Bagsangi" Balbalin
Pioneer of traditional gold mining in the highlands of Palayan City
November 20, 2023, 7:08 AM, PST
APC
Every tourist's dream, a fun expedition to
Xenial vacation spots like Hawaii by water.
Pina colada in hand on a Caribbean Island
Enjoying the beach. Sometimes I envision
Destinations to warmer, far-flung places
I've never visited before to eschew
The inevitable wrath of winter!
I wish I could roam free like a nomad
On a camel's back across the vast Sahara.
Now, that's the adventure of a lifetime!
From the far-flung reaches of the Sahel,
Where the sun kisses the earth and sets,
The land of Zulu, Opobo, Musa, and Mandela,
Home to Cleopatra and Ramses,
I bathe in the dunes of the Sahara,
Walking the path of the Masai Mara,
Climbing Kilimanjaro, swimming Oya and Osun,
All the way to the banks of the Nile.
I’m an Oba , a lost one in the wilderness of monumental slayer
I’m a man, a lion in the scorching Savannah
I’m a liar, living in Denial
In denial,
I rise, as the sun rises,
To live, as the lion lives,
To roar, as the earth roars,
To be free, as the Sahara is free.
Once envoys carried messages, betwixt those Royal thrones of Kings.
Scrolls of vellum parchments, all bearing wax insignia, impressed with signet rings.
These symbols of authenticity, made safe passage, through far flung foreign fields.
Where chivalry of gallant knights gave sanctuary, armed with swords and shields.
While Kings and Queens spoke of those deeds, by proclamation, made them law.
Preventing bloodshed needlessly, upon battlefields of war.
Once, candle flames on red wax, and signet rings, were used in days gone by.
Now those documents of state are stamped, by die and counter die.
Where independance from the past, the President holds sway.
This National Symbol of the United States, hangs proudly on display.
Appreciate some time out for annual holidays.
Unify with friends, or bask in warm sun rays.
Go and visit attractions, or a far flung beach.
Unfamiliar places you must travel to reach.
Summer days shorten, soon it will be fall.
The most colorful season of them all!
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