All men marked by a Redeemer risen
gain the King’s key to living life now with purpose.
Not doomed, nor driven, but by chance, choice…
rogues repent, generate goodwill day by day,
finding forgiveness through God's grace.
Previous lives lost to selfish struggling
hold heaven as their future hope’s harbor.
I lay resting in a bed of dreams,
as time slipped away.
Heavy with the world's grief,
weakness awaits me—
laziness settles in my skin,
while all around, the spirit falls still.
About this poem
Ke go amogela ka lethabo
I embrace you with joy
Go gwerana le wena my spouse
Ke go gokarela le go amogela
Ka go dumediša le go go amogela
Ke ipšina ka go kgahlwa ke lerato la gago
I delight in being enchanted
Ka go rata wena By loving you
Monya wa pelo ya ka The dew of my heart
Ke a go reta, ke a go dumediša I praise you, I greet you
Ka go tšea le go amogela By taking and accepting you
Ke go kgetha godimo ga tše dingwe
I choose you above all others
Ke go amogela ka lepotlapotla
I welcome you eagerly
Ke amogela lerato la gago
I accept your love
Ke kgetha wena o kaone fela
I choose only you, thebest of you
You still my soul
Morning Routines KOTABA KOKORO
2/6/7/6/8
coffee
drinking first thing in the morning
while watching the daily news show
the news depressing me
turning it off, drinking coffee
Far simpler to pray the older one gets,
the awareness of little time left wraps your mind
and thoughts and regrets flood your inner being.
How sad that I cannot relate this age-old wisdom,
this depth of tranquility, to those that have years to squander.
I wonder if the feeling of remorse and the worth of a prayer
is only revealed to us when we can almost touch
the gates of the great here after.
Flowing river, pooling puddles, sloppy drip.
Hold me warm
until I’m nothing but water.
Caress me, and I will give life to your earth.
Seeping blood into your veins
and rejuvenating your soul.
Then leave.
Because one day I will wake
without you beside me,
and the world will be so cold.
My rains will hail,
my lakes will freeze.
I will be ice
just to survive.
My winter will kill the life sowed.
I am only hard for so long,
until Spring springs,
as she does.
Her sweet charm
breaks me, soothing me back.
I will be a flowing river again.
Tien a Christian Couplet Version
Where to go from here, when Truth is so near?
We all,may find the Son ,to light our way!
Kulmann Linked Form variation
(First posted 2009,)
From Dark
angst.shame.
comes Pain
From Light
warmth.peace.
with Joy
From Night
sleep.relax.
in Ease
From Day
pluck.praise.
to Please
From God
faith.love
with Grace
To the heart of the matter
windblown
by gusty amazements
a richness and complexity
fine and delicate
the beauty of verse
speech by ‘ear’
and reason tested
not in arrogance
but humility
and subtlety of form
Questions
alluring in novelty
foreshadowed
by conscious perception
Far and leisured
discerned by prosody
A Future Form
A calm night shelters us after the day's chime.
Left its glow, an incandescence of faded remnants.
That's its counterpart reflected onto our beautiful world.
Creating a continuous awakening of shimmering light.
Just over Denmark, the whooshing rhythmic sounds
of windmills recycling electricity, the first new color
In eons, in leap years.breeze, like a dream in the future
Form. Becomes tomorrow’s shadow.
But for now, this is a day in sketches.
A blueprint of a delicate dance, with gratitude for
a new day. Someday, if someday comes?
When we shape our future form in a bond of truth.
Clarity is born as we dissolve and drift
through the momentary, of beginning again.
With unbound devotion, where artistic creativity is born.
This is the future form.
Laser light, your laboratory of life.
Try to take a moment, sit down, and play.
The whole ensemble: in time, you're back at it.
In time. A future is now formed.
BITTERSWEET (A PARADELLE FOR AUTUMN)
Gone is the bird song that once filled the sky
Gone is the bird song that once filled the sky
Now the wind moans low like lovers in need
Now the wind moans low like lovers in need
In need like a lover, that once filled the sky
Gone is the bird now like a low moan of wind
We have gleaned from the earth its bountiful fruit
We have gleaned from the earth its bountiful fruit
The fields are empty, the harvest is in
The fields are empty, the harvest is in
In the harvest gleaned of its bountiful fruit
From the earth we have empty fields
The leaves are beautiful in their dying
The leaves are beautiful in their dying
This is the swan song of earth
This is the swan song of earth
In their swan song dying
the leaves of earth are beautiful
The sky we have gleaned, empty as bird song
fields the leaves beautifully, in the harvest
dying, bountiful fruit gone, once
of earth in need like a lover’s swan song
filled by the low moans of wind
O short-snouted slouth
with your quivering stamp-fangs,
you thud-thump my soul with procedural sludge;
the cosmos groans in beige.
By decree of Sub-Section
Twelve-and-a-Half-Point-Nine,
I must submit my shoelaces in quadruplicate,
signed by three witnesses and a mildly confused turnip.
O mighty Desk of Doom,
why must your flobber-forms that
cling to my sanity like damp bureaucratic algae?
The fair was filled with pies of every sort,
And Simon longed to taste a single slice.
Approaching the pie baker with a snort,
And begged for food without proper price.
The baker sneered, "Your coin must first suffice,
Before you bite this golden, flaky crust."
But Simon smiled and gave some odd advice:
"True wealth is found in starlight, not in dust!"
The crowded marketplace began to trust
The penniless philosopher’s strange scheme.
They threw away their wallets in disgust,
To chase after a wild, pastry baked dream.
Thus Simon ate for free while others prayed,
By selling nonsense, all his debts were paid.
PURITY OF FORM-:-
achieving
complementary
verifiable
experimental
approaches
true TO PHENOMENA
autonomous
representational
synthesis
personal
perspectives
to CLOTHE IDEAS
sensitively
subordinated
elaborate
allusive
adornments
Mogogi wa mogodu —
The guide has led us to ntwa ya tsogo.
Moferefere ya sesole!
Popomfsa… go kwa khutso?
No.
Kgotso is here.
Boemo bjo bo sa suthego:
It will not move.
It cannot break.
Thlokego ya merusu —
That is the goal.
Poloko ya ntwa must be the end.
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