Gone amiss is the tight white moon
whose withheld breath owned a night
of penitent voices cast to its homely face.
Its passage assures a slumbering world
the fading calm bares weight enough that a
sole butterfly carry effortlessly to silence.
Awake by the faithful whose life restorations
into joys embrace with psalms and hymns
welcome dawn's golden chariots cheery
cherubs championed charioteers, arise,
this is the day that the Lord has made.
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord and
to your fellow workers for by its plain
pleasure and delight of all exchange
gratitudes denies the devil's stay.
Perpetuate God's glory and share His
story--err history, and proclaim to all
of His only begotten Son, His Holy of
Holy's, His Grace, Jesus Christ, Amen
Categories:
gratitudes, beautiful, bible, blessing, inspirational,
Form: Free verse
In the frozen grip of winter's chaperone,
Cinderella gets walzted in like a dirty faced hussy.
As light and darkness stand side by side
in a battle for her supremacy.
Godmother has the ground vermin rousted up
from their hidden abodes.
Busy fashioning her apparels and pearly things.
But kissing in their modes.
Dreams that have lied dormant promise the moon,
meets with sunbeams fresh advances, with golden threads of dress-up in swoon.
New pickup lines and peer reviews
to peak at her pinnacle lines.
Fresh new light clings to the hem of misty morn,
sown at her delicate feat, like diadems.
Promised in consecrated dew-drops newly born.
The fowl caress the air in synchronized swim,
in salvos of savoir faire,
bannering rehearsal,
the reversal of Death's Nadir.
Much work to do in presenting.
Gonna have a good show.
Godmother tends to her proper dress.
Tries to tone down her exude of amoress.
Winter looks tacitly, concerned-
from the cold distance,
but is lit up by the way Spring looks back
in her gratitudes,
when she turns,
bows and curtseys at her complicit,
Majesty.
Categories:
gratitudes, art,
Form: Ode
The petrichor of fallen leaves
and coldness of the sun that grieves.
The lovers’ laughter in the wind.
Their purity shows they haven’t sinned.
Their faces pinched and full of life,
no thought of making her his wife.
Trees they groan, especially pine,
wild with shivers, right up their spine.
Prickly cones, a harbinger of,
a coming season fraught with love.
For now their gratitudes in place —
not cut down, brought to human’s space.
Wild turkeys, without guns, on run.
The hunters’ bullets, hide their sun,
unashamed of their livelihood.
Wasted and basted, butt’ry good.
Strung up on platter, good and puffed,
End of dinner, man and child stuffed.
10/29/2020
Contest: Lay November
Sponsor: William Kekaula
8 syllables each line - HMS
aabbcc - Rhymezone
Categories:
gratitudes, bird, holiday, humor, love,
Form: Lay
Whispered Spirals of lucid feelings ‘ jest and mock within as morning shakes me gently from my slumber .
My thoughts bleed away from that invisible country of dreams ‘
their importance and meaningfulness
‘fades quickly into the dark pool of the forgotten.
A new day of living has come ‘
And from that stillness I now begin a new cycle of existence within this world of men , the obligatory ,
and Subsequent twenty four hours of perception and required lucidity .
A tide of realisation begins to float my priorities and fears from that sleeping ocean’s floor .
Positive Self talk and gratitudes are spoken softly to abate and ground My mood for this coming new day.
Knowing If I was to Foolishly jump straight into the time of waken without care ,
Then This realisation would shock me painfully and lead to panicked floundering’s.
I remind myself with factual neutrality’ and disciplined optimism
that I’ve never lived this date
‘ though it looks similar , ‘
today is new
‘today anything could happen,
and probably will .
Categories:
gratitudes, age, allegory, allusion,
Form: Blank verse
The holding, the hiding one's self inside oneself. No one to see the scars behind the smile. Words of platitudes and gratitudes.
Keep it all hidden, the silently cracking heart. Let all believe it was what is was when in fact, inside one's self it still is.
Let the ice come in and numb the pain so no one will know the heart's suffering.
No hope left but still there is hope inside one's self. To say hope breeds suffering is true. But by any other name, waiting, wanting, holding space, is, still, hope. So one plays with words in folly to cover the suffering. But one's self still silently suffers inside oneself.
Categories:
gratitudes, heartbreak, heartbroken, lost love,
Form: Free verse
Fascism has grown cancerous maturity
to pathologically enforce
what mere nationalistic military-industrialized supremacy
would patriotically endorse.
Supremacists of race or gender
or metaphysical systems of personal as political investment,
mistake allegiance to icons and idols and pledges
of national privilege
for personal passion and investment in gratitudes of love
for EarthTribe's WinWin Lands with blessing waters,
Gaian Principles
of Organic Health Co-Governing Procedures.
Against fascist growing cancers
degeneratively erasing
what EarthTribe optimal regenerators
are more matriotically embracing.
Categories:
gratitudes, culture, earth, gender, health,
Form: Political Verse
Waste not her love in all it's tender exhibits
Nor take for granted the look in her eyes
Lest her softness be calloused fictitious
Or her trust in your heart be despised
The strength of a man lies not in his stature
Nor the kingdoms he's built in his name
It's not in the dreams defeated or captured
Or heroically owning some blame
The love of a lady discerns what is true
The child's heart that dwells in her man
His need to be nurtured vulnerabilities debut
Entrance to an unguarded land
There's a bravery more gallant
Than the absence of fear
When in loves sweet embrace transparent
Gratitudes strength displayed by way of unbridled tears
Ah so few things in life so precious
As the slow dance between woman and man
Fewer still are the moments that leave you breathless
When love finds it's way past adversities plan
I say... Waste not the love of a lady
Your rugged stance will have its due
Lavish her with pure surrender
Her last breath will whisper... "My love is true"
Categories:
gratitudes, courage, dance, devotion, heart,
Form: Quatrain
Unseen, unheard, unmentioned,
man of the street,
a lone cry,
'Big Issue' but no-one stops to buy.
Cardboard cities come alive each night
while riches sit back watching HD TV.
*
Invisble families saying grace,
giving gratitudes over grey crusts of yesterday's bread,
not a dime to spare for a pair of shoes
and Nikes adorn the riches feet
while on their plate a salad of virtue.
*
Empty promises from nations before their bombs
and another child grasps the hand of his mother;
the lifeless hand, his only hope in the rubble.
Invisible child destined to be
another unseen man.
Categories:
gratitudes, socialchild,
Form: Free verse
From the quite memories of my mind; through the distance of time;
The past has touched me.
And I marvel at the realities of time and distance;
I was a careless man back then; wouldn’t take the time to notice;
A devoted friend chose to share life with me.
And I cringe at this fellow who thought he worked all angles.
And gazing back in retro-spec I have to feel love;
Good people are not to be treated so lightly;
And in the end I wasn’t cool; but much more the fool
God bless my one time friend who;
Probably would have been better off never meeting me.
I thank her for caring; though most of the time I was blinded.
Categories:
gratitudes, friendshiptime, friend, time,
Form: I do not know?