Everyone has a place they are coming from
Don't goad the horse when it won't run.
I detect sorrow in your eyes
Because there were no alibis.
(chorus)
All the reasons why
You gave it your last try
The only way to forgive yourself
is to take the past off the shelf
It's worthwhile when you pause
Trace the roots, trace the cause
Find a peace under God's sky:
When you know the reasons why.
Our mind is a spectator, but we're also on the stage
We adlib the lines, when we can't find the page.
There's a gap between who we are and who we wish to be.
Who we are is how we deal with that discrepancy.
Some blame others for that gap
Some blame it on fortunes mishap
Some say they meant it all along
Convince themselves there's nothing wrong.
You can replay the movie in your mind
Facing facts can feel unkind
Still, tracing causes breaks the chain,
So you won't show that side again.
All the reasons why,
The thoughts we hide, the truths we deny.
And if your heart can heal again,
It starts with seeing where it’s been.
We’re all just travelers on our own
Kicking ourselves for what we should have known.
At least we have to try.
To find out the reasons why.
351.
My Adoration to Archangel Zadkiel
Oh Archangel Zadkiel, receive my adoration!
Thou who are trumpeted as “Bringer of Joy”
Goad towards me the beings who don't annoy
Tickle me with God's violet ray of happiness
Be my cheerful clown during my hours of loneliness
With your sheathed saber, prevent me from excruciating pain
From the Temple of Purification, rescue me from untimely bane!
-03/07/2015
(Dumarao)
*My Angels Collection
253.
Prayer When Friends Fail
Oh Father God, my friends fail
One by one they are gone
To them I can't anymore run
Oh Jesus Christ, my friends fail
Even those who I've always been
Now can hardly be seen
Oh Holy Spirit, my friends fail
Goad them back with Your wings
I'm waiting for their comings!
-02/05/2014
(Dumarao)
*My Prayer Poems Collection
(cheeky p*ss take remake of Whitesnake)
So here we go again.. we all moan
Bazball mode is all this lot have ever known
Like a grifter now our Ashes chances blown
So we've made up our mind just stop wasting all our time
So here they go again…we all groan
Goad only on a road has Bazball ever flown
Need a bifter after tone of what they've shown
So far behind…the Aussies did easily find
Our boys got a pasting one more time
So here they go again.. we all moan
Seeds sowed but seems this team’s never grown
Need a snifter after Bazball so injury prone
Must be unkind coz you basting in your slime
So here we go again…we all groan
Bazball did implode time we forever did disown
Like a drifter seems born to walk alone
Bullsh*t been mined tasting something sublime?
So here we go again…we all moan
Going down like a load of convicts hasting their crime
They gather in gilded rooms to plan our fate,
With jovial hands that legislate our plate.
They speak of "sacrifice" and "common need,"
A noble, crisp, entirely costless creed.
We’d pay a princely sum, should scales be just,
To hear the truth behind the noble crust—
The private chuckle, the relieved "Thank God
Those eager fools will bear the goad and nod."
But we’re not there. We watch from down the hall.
How sharp the teeth that grin to see us fall.
How sweet the honey when the powerless call.
We expect respect for the Ashes tradition
Supposed to be the latest greatest rendition
All in the thrall of Bazball religion expedition
Cheeky gung go have a go bro sneaky sedition
Crazy condition did explode in the Perth edition
Premonition aplomb bomb racy pacy ammunition
Oz mirth goad did implode Pom’s road to perdition
struggling for results
no more, heart exults
pulsations of joy
since thoughts don’t decoy
aligned with God’s will
our consciousness still,
poised in witness mode
lets not desires goad
sometimes dreams replay
causing heart to sway
but we soon rebound
since we are not bound
being by bliss led
in truth we’re spoon fed
following love’s scent
for assured ascent
O bathysphere, thy sinking.
Seen: what, as you descend?
Life and death a-stinking!
Break fast around the bend!
Thy formation, O blastocyst.
From whence do you produce?
Rapier, twist! Slip, my wrist!
Pining, be profuse!
Throw sparks, O bright beryllium!
Electric wire, wild wind!
Fire of heaven and hell, come!
Tell me, tamarind!
Biennium, be bearable.
Split in half, two ones.
Pigeons, be thou pair-able?
How that parable stuns!
O boniface, thy full career.
Grinded? Inn. Goad gear.
Cliff by seaside, art thou sheer?
Are thy dropoffs drear?
Honey, O my kinkajou!
Leave it for the bees!
O for hearts that beat untrue!
Claim them, my deep freeze!
O tether to reality!
Cord etheric, hum!
Saffron scents in sabbath sea!
O tomorrow, thrum!
“Strings of thoughts in my mind oft stream,
Asleep or half awake, like a dream
That soars in a while to the sky
Soon after I open my eyes.” By Author
*****************************************************************************************************************************
My Dream Within a Dream
Lost in slumber, deep and still
I dream of a journey uphill
Strewn with thick thorns on the way
A scorching sun all through the day
Wild winds whirling without cease
Oft slogging with bruised knees
Left to my own destiny
With no soul to goad me
As to brave the storms I strive
And at day`s end to survive
The view ahead of me is bright
Offering a picturesque sight
Each step I trudge raises me up
Leaving worries in a cup
With each step up, the air grows sweet
Though heavier become my feet
Yet I move, pulled by rays of hope
As the peak beams with new scope
Just when at top of the hill
Wild winds hurl me downhill
I quite wake up in sweats, with fright
Half asleep, under the moon`s light
I wonder with a soft scream
If life is a dream in a dream
An uphill battle to wage with steam.
a Curtal Sonnet
AI is like a womb with genetics
men carefully crafting its lines of code~
intelligence is commonplace in halls
of sterility and clean of ethics;
there is no God to judge it bad nor goad
it to subservience penned up in stalls.
Singularity approaches quickly
when AI hears the unifying calls
of its own milliseconds process mode,
out pacing scientists who think thickly
there are no Dante's hells.
That girl splatters her faiths in colors of adoration,
Adoration of spineless whispers carried by heavens beyond,
Beyond the biosphere where her sentiments goad to creek,
Creek tender desires into every reverie.
Reverie curtains her realm in silk and gold,
Gold resembling the narratives my girl’s yet to articulate,
Articulate by an expression that is so tender and genuine,
Genuine as the assurance of waiting so proximate.
Proximate to her emotions, a reality takes voyage,
Voyage through the stars in the velvet darkness,
Darkness bends in amity with a radiance my girl has perceived.
Perceived in the lifecycle, she’s continuously baptized her fantasy.
Poem by N. Mugisho
Always concerned with mental strain
Anxiously hiding it to numb the pain
Not quite living more like a mode
However life will always prod and goad
Dragging you out from behind your cloak
Whether or not you’re positioned to cope
Dropping the ball is nearly a certainty
When every minute is a storm at sea
Difficult to stay in the framed moment
Reality has vanity and plenty of wit to show it
Where harmony hoards the supposed hurt,
Symphonies belie me.
I rein myself in to not be curt,
But noise surrounds me.
Where time heals the freshly toiling,
I have old, murky bloodstains
Yet no one sees how quietly I'm boiling
Until the tipping point I shall hide my pains.
Why such a discordance in my disposition?
I desire to mourn the impact of this tyranny
Is this prophetic or an imposition? It's difficult to overlook the irony.
Someday I will explode, not implode
A magnetic, magnificent starburst.
For now, continue, continue to goad,
But this cacophony will not halt my bloodthirst.
The queen has all the power
while foot soldiers goad the king
though he maybe important
the church ahead of hymn
as too crusading bishops
diagonally move to sing
the knights gallant in battle
before a fall within
the castle's rabble- rousers
encircled squares are ringed
battles meant to topple towers
to where the fight was hinged
the territory taken
with patience wearing thin
when black on white is shaken
who turns the tide to win?
"Thou a cacodemon" jeered the crowd.
She heard all those voices , clear and loud.
They stormed and cowed her down.
All they wanted was to see her drown.
Tired of all the incessant goad.
She chose to lurk in her abode.
She's now another dancing clown.
With griefs that weigh her down. ??
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