E-ach
L-ife
E-xpresses
C-hoice
T-oday
I-n
O-ne
N-ation's
D-evelopment
A-ll
Y-ear
©bfa051225
Monocrostic
If we could look into the seeds of time,
and say which grain will grow and which will not,
we would arrange our affairs defiantly
in the face of current opposition.
If a thought should geminate and flourish
in the barren soil of the status quo,
it would likely be by sheer providence
that ideas would come to fruition.
Our dreams, our very imagination,
are what keep our momentum in this world.
Sans the prospect of incremental feats,
we would not strive to attain excellence.
If the portent of riches entices us,
would we forsake every value system
to attain the pinnacle of success?
No one could portend the foreordained path.
Everything is foreordained
Yet free will is given
Can it really be so
Skeptics say No ...
... Put it this way
He knows when you'll die, the very day ~
But that does not stop you
From seeking Life when you pray
______________________________
The first two lines are a translation
from the Hebrew Mishna (Teaching) in
Pirkey Avos (Chapters of the Fathers)
It is attributed to Rabbi Akiva, who
lived around the time of the Fall of
the Second Temple in Jerusalem
until the first third of the Second
Century, C.E.
Men fly The War-Plane of Mutiny
By querying their Destiny
And fly The Very Flag of Mutiny
When Destiny they mock with scrutiny
Vowing to no more drink Martini
Nor in other coolers harbor any tinny
Just like Britain can’t erase her felony
When Nigeria was her colony
One can’t A World of Monotony
Through ceaseless appearance in a ceremony!
Into it I read a mutiny
And a rebellion against Destiny
A Can-Never-Stop Glutton
Checking quarrels with his shirt button
Or a Decreed life of Celibacy
Fighting this with Ecstasy
Or even with The Slowest Immediacy …
Against Foreordained Destiny
We unwisely mutiny
With our Wise Scrutiny.
I know she loved me
not because she told me
but because she showed me.
Silky fingers through my hair
nibbled kisses everywhere
pleasure nigh too much to bear.
Wordless whispers in breath soul deep
foreordained our fusion to keep
thus I know she loved me 'ere I sleep.
The Pale Rider
Astride an ashen horse,
a raven perched on his shoulder,
and a melancholy moon
beaming down gray shadows,
He held a gleaming scythe
in one hand, and in his other,
a damning edict from Hades,
the Lord of the underworld.
He was spurring on across
some god-forsaken terrain
leaving the winds wailing in his wake.
He was racing against time
to ensnare one more good soul
before the rise of the sun,
to knock on one more door
before a sliver of sunbeam
shine upon the morning dew.
He had his eyes ablaze
set upon the doomed soul
and his errand foreordained.
But the entire universe works
toward salvaging a righteous soul
who repents his past wrongdoings
The sun rose over the eastern horizon
and warded off the onslaught of
the condemnation to Hadean eternity…
as death dissipates with the mist of dawn.
~Contest: A Brian Strand July 22
With Presidents Day coming up this Monday, I submit my tribute to the president born Feb. 12, 1809:
Ode to My Hero: Dear Abe
At many things, Abe Lincoln was the best.
From boyhood to manhood, how he shone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
I picture him a farm lad poorly dressed -
kind soul and working so hard all alone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Entertaining, Lincoln liked to jest.
Tall and strong was he when fully grown.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Great intellect and talents he possessed.
Many things he learned all on his own!
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
He led a nation facing great unrest,
for slavery dear Abe could not condone.
Foreordained to lead, dear Abe was blessed.
Feb. 15, 2020 for Sheri Fresonke Harper's
Ode To A President Or Politician Or Leader Past Or Present Poetry Contest
the fragility of a flower
quavering in autumn's draft
infallibly will succumb
to the rime of night
the capability to shield it
prevails in your hands
if only to prolong its life
from the foreordained path
imagine your own life
retained in your hands
your trembling fingers
grasping the tips of needles
wary of each droplet
perceptive to the fortuity
that each could mean
extended life or inevitable death
SHE shines with joy, like one in love
with love itself and all that’s lush;
and when the Grecian gods above
perceive her from the underbrush,
she takes wing like a fearsome dove
with the shrill of a mighty thrush.
With yellow locks, and fairest hair,
and limpid, liquid eyes true blue,
none are like her or can compare
to her likeness of pearly hue,
which gives light to the brave who dare
beseech her for her grace anew.
And foreordained as goddess Muse,
and well-revered as though a saint,
whom none can spurn nor can refuse
or with vile words corrupt or taint,
let therefore all beings freely choose
to worship her without constraint.
The time I will leave behind, to me does not belong-
nor the time before God placed me here.
The only time that is mine to claim is that
by God fore-ordained.
I know not my time allowed but I know
who holds it in his hand-
a resource, more precious than wealth
or worldly acclaim, non-renewable and fleeting as
the lightning’s flash.
To foolishly waste that time in trivial pursuit,
would truly be a sin most grave-
for I pass this way but once, never to return again.
If I do not strive to leave behind a better place-
then what value do I serve;
either to my fellow man
or to my God on high?
The time I will leave behind, to me does not belong-
nor does the time before God placed me here.
The only time that is mine to claim is that
by God fore-ordained.
I know not my time allowed but I know
who holds it in his hand-
a resource, more precious than wealth
or worldly acclaim, non-renewable and fleeting as
the lightning’s flash.
To waste that time foolishly in trivial pursuits,
would truly be a sin most grave-
for I pass this way but once, never to return again.
If I do not strive to leave behind a better place-
then what value do I serve;
either to my fellow man
or to my God on high?
An ethereal essence suspended sublime;
A most beautiful image never to be mine.
A reluctant suitor in the heat of God's time,
Clinging to a shadow made of my own design.
I had searched my life for a face in the crowds, and
Been scorned and rebuked on every occasion.
Some say our destinies are foreordained - preplanned;
I prayed somehow I could write my own equation.
Yet, when I came to that final moment I saw
That fate would have taken me to a loftier plane.
My reality offered no time to withdraw;
I could do naught but surrender my heart and my brain.
My search is not over, I've envisioned her face;
Surrendering to love and the one I'll embrace.
August 1, 2016
Upon the songbird’s inception
A young breath of air, its lungs did make
For the fledgling knew not of any deception
A prominent flight, the songbird did take
Unknown to the bird, there were exigencies in store
In the event that a hawk should loom
Presumably, fear did strike the bird’s core
Lest the songbird could escape this foreordained doom
As surely as the sun rises, the songbird is caught
And in it went, to the clenched jaws of finality
Assuredly leaving the bird’s mother distraught
For the songbird was known for its vast vitality
By this one can learn, not a thing is guaranteed
And by the wise one’s words, one should surely take heed
I don't need an astrologer
To find what's written in the stars.
I don't need an astronomer
To see that you're my guiding star.
I don't need no fortune teller--
I've known for years that you're 'the one'.
Seeing you, I see forever,
Even more clearly than the Sun.
There must be some explanation
For all the sentiments I feel.
Maybe like reincarnation,
Our love keeps cycling like a wheel.
Did we make promises before,
In some eternal spirit plane?
Exiting the Well of Souls' door,
Hoping to find us once again.
Whether we've loved a thousand lives,
Or forgotten endless desire,
There's something in my soul that drives
Me to you, like a moth to fire.
Our love is unavoidable,
Like destiny, kismet, or fate.
Since our love's inevitable,
Let's embrace it before too late!
The oracles and the prophets
Would certainly foresee:
It's foreordained and predestined
For you to be with me.
I think our love could be the love
That spans both ends of time.
That's why I'll always think of you
As my 'Forever Valentine'.
In the strange land of mother earth
Where the creatures there dwell in
obscurity
While some rear the eagerness to
break open the veil
Some rare the solicitousness of the
fate of the unknownness
Where we find ourselves
A foreordained deed of mother
nature
Feels shunned by the ignorant hearts
of men
But learning nature's ways is open to
the one
Who puts his heart in the
unidentified
And his brain in the island of
knowledge
I am strange, you are strange
Surely not to mother nature
But to who?
To even the unsung feelings we
nurse
In our innocent minds and hearts
Towards each other
Even though our hearts
Have been connected by nature
Which birth us
Mother nature has done a great deed
Birthing and connecting us
But our hearts have been kept away
From the hidden fact of nature's
deeds
No matter how long we estrange
nature's deeds
Realizing the truth of the unknown is
failsafe
And nature can never be cheated
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