Ease is something that we roll our teeth at.
Dizziness.
We gravitate toward sweat.
Sometimes.
Slightly out of breath.
Then not so much.
Climbing up, up!
Distress is like combing through the cremations.
Ease is at the top of stairs, at the top of tops.
Bustling.
Ease is this zipped up feeling that burns.
And we fall asleep like that.
Dizzy, horrible, twisted sweat.
The blackouts started earlier than I thought.
The hammock slammed shut.
Maybe, not meant to be the Life Partner.
Though, that's all I ever dreamed to be.
Maybe, I'm meant to gravitate and hold hands for a small time,
Though lifetimes together I see.
Certainly, the moments are beautiful,
Lighting sparks in Godly men,
Who've forgotten themselves,
Built a hard shell,
And who can now only be a friend.
Maybe, it's okay for me to let go of this dream,
No longer tangible and I've been heard,
Though to fruition, it never came.
Endless letters to divinity, manifestation of who to hold,
Faces touching, energy radiating through our hands,
God sends me tests, disguised as friends.
Maybe, I'm not meant to be the wife,
Though it's all I ever dreamed.
I'll feel empowered in this one day, though my heart breaks at the seams.
Fleeting moments aren't my partnership,
Though for others they can fulfil.
I can love with immensity, for lifetimes,
And have before God chose this loneliness for me, still.
When we are young, we do not know
Exactly how our lives will go.
The answers dangle out of reach,
A barrier we cannot breach.
Yet as we grow, we grasp at clues
Enticing us to avenues
Which might just lead us to unwind
The skills by which we’ll be defined.
It might be music, sports or art
To set a spark to help us start,
Or maybe books or food or math
To lure us down a certain path.
Perhaps it’s just the urge to care
For those in need that takes us where
Our nurturing can make a dent
In those whose lacks are evident.
Some gravitate to entertain
Or build or mend or drive a train,
While others search but are resigned
To leave their unformed dreams behind.
Still, there is always hope that we,
At least to just a small degree,
Will match what DNA’s supplied
To something we can own with pride.
As I hide from you in the dark,
I extinguish my little spark.
Your dog looks to the moon to bark,
but my place is not lunar -
ditch your radio tuner.
I'm in the distant universe,
ain't red-shifted - quite the reverse.
I have no photons to disperse.
You wanna ask, "Where you been?"
Why not ask Vera Rubin?
Na na na na na, can't find me,
no matter how you try to see,
with yer telescope, hee hee hee.
Wanna try using Hubble?
g'head, get on the double!
To scientists, I fascinate
and positively captivate.
My hobby is to gravitate
from the place I'm residing
in space where I am hiding.
Are you still wond'ring who I am?
If, 'scuse my French, you give a dam*,
without this guy, dear sir or ma'am,
the galaxies would splatter,
Sincerely Yours, Dark Matter.
Ollie ollie oxen free!
GRANTED, GARGANTUAN GOURDS
GRACE GARGANTUAN EGOS.
THEY GRACIOUSLY AND GRADUALLY
GRAVITATE, (THROUGH GRAVITY),
TO GIANT GROUND BASED GARAGES.
GUARANTEEING THAT GREAT BIG,
GIANT, GARGANTUAN GOURDS,
GETS GOOD GROUND ROOTS
GROWTH POTENTIAL...GRADUALLY!
Today might be a stressful day
tomorrow could be swell
next week might be a challenge
next month you’ll conquer hell
Next year could be different
to where you are today
the point of this being
don’t throw your life away
Why do you question things
why worry every day
everyone has a story
don’t let it cause delay
emerge from your cocoon
let your wings dry
see life in a new light
spread your wings and fly
When one cycle ends
another one begins
when one day you lose
another there could be wins
if todays a struggle
tomorrow could be great
So just take a breath
time to recalibrate
Take a walk in nature
feel the healing vibes
frequencies will gravitate
to your soulful tribes
Be grateful for the life
the magic that is there
soak up all the wisdom
and know the spirit’s care
Bags under my eyes.
Are a horrible nothing.
Coffee for me right now…
Would help the globs of pasta sauce clear.
Under my eyelids.
The puffiness everlasts.
Jagged underneath.
One eye is sagging more.
One eye is worse.
That’s how they know it’s horrible.
That the eyes are uneven.
Coffee for me would be like dark matter clearing.
Bugs in my eyelids.
Not surprised, it’s just crawling.
My pulse sends out a message.
About evergreen trees up north.
Bags under my eyes.
Can’t surprise me.
The mirror just caves in.
Like globs of alien slime.
Coffee might be my only choice.
As I gravitate toward this mug.
Heavy as if it’s filled with metal shards.
But it’s empty again.
The young tend to nudge love away
gravitate toward a pale blue loneliness
then quietly slip into the grate.
Maybe they're just preparing for old age
the age where anything you've ever loved
bumbles away-like a tumbleweed
looking for a sliver of shade.
When you're very old
the sheets run yellow-gray
and so very- very cold.
Even plastic flowers wither
as crawlers and weeds gain foothold...
into the fading gem...called dying hope.
Like a thinning glass ceiling spider
awaiting the nourishment of companionship
never to arrive.
observing the thought construct coordinate
towards which we tend to gravitate
we look on at it in witness mode
the ego horse we once rode
Gloria Dubbins - not much of a name,
but trust me on my judgment, gentle reader;
in terms of Beauty, she was Hall of Fame.
We’re talking – let’s see – nineteen seventy-two,
but I’m the keeper of the Gloria Flame,
and still to me she’s better, and more true,
than all your Taylor Swifts or Amber Heards.
She did the things that gorgeous women do -
in essence, nothing. Gloria had no words.
Intelligence? Commitment? Are you kidding?
For babes, that stuff is strictly for the birds.
She sat immobile and observed the bidding.
I’ll tell you this, but won’t apportion blame.
You, too, would be as motionless as cedar
if you’d been dealt her hand, to play The Game.
She’s not the kind you wound up talking to.
Her presence smote you with a sort of shame:
she struck you dumb: the words would not come through.
And Gloria didn’t gravitate to herds.
Perforce, she rowed her own sublime canoe.
Her beauty left her friendless, like the Kurds.
What was her view of Comus? Little Gidding?
I don’t have – no, I never had – a clue.
Enigma fits her. Easily two-thirds
of all the girls acknowledged her as leader,
but oddly she was Nothing Like A Dame.
The seed of a flower can be good or bad.
Don't think too much about life, and be sad.
Understand that the compound will pressure you a lot.
Fight through the feeling and land in a perfect spot.
Gravitate off the ground, rise through the air.
Make the best out of life with an unbreakable stare.
Have the strength of a lion and always stay focused,
Not letting a peak of darkness come without notice.
Stay fearless and conquer the world by storm.
Stay true to your mind and keep your light on.
Darkness will try to interfere with your light.
Stay off the past and look toward the sunlight.
Mountains will form with pain and suffering.
Never let depression win; call on your mother.
So let this day be about opportunity and values.
Have a great "Graduation" and ride off like a stallion.
A flower can bloom just like your life.
You just open up and make the sacrifice.
Don't ever feel like you want to quit,
Because in life, you will start to reminisce.
Always be patient; let your life start to revolve.
Never settle for the unknown; always stay involved.
Be quick to listen, not quick to anger.
Don't go down that road if you sense the danger.
Let your life hover, and let it gravitate.
Take a step to the ground and start to meditate.
Get familiar with yourself and love who you are,
Because that blooming flower in your life will take you so far.
Be proud of yourself and let your light shine.
Remember, the world is yours, but it's only a matter of time.
In a world where seductive whispers find echo in ears seeking solace,
People gravitate towards sweet illusions, like moths drawn to a burning flame,
The wicked cling to this earth like an anchor in a troubled sea,
Placing their hopes in leaders and ideologies, in movements that seem to promise salvation,
But the world collapses, rotting under the weight of vain dreams and petty ambitions.
True believers, like solitary stars in the night sky, break away,
Prepared for a Kingdom that knows no boundaries of this fleeting world,
A Kingdom where peace and light reign, where storms do not trouble the sky,
His Kingdom come, a realm of hope and eternity that will never end,
And its glory knows no bounds, like an endless ocean in the morning light.
For the majesty and power of the King of this Kingdom have been revealed to those who see,
And their souls sing in harmony with the silence, feeling eternity in every moment,
In this stream of consciousness, where reality and faith intertwine like a mirage,
We wander with open hearts, seeking the truth that will free us from the chains of time,
As the sky opens, revealing a universe of love and pure light.
The world inside of me
Is huge.
There are trees with twisted, open branches,
Like a thousand mom's,
Reaching for a hug.
There is music, and art, and
A tsunami of words,
Sent down stream,
To be plucked and absorbed
Like the most fulfilling
Breath of air.
The world inside of me
Is huge.
There is a tender heart,
And a healing soul
That wishes he could
Raise the dead.
There is also a secret place
Where a million dreams come to rest.
(A dream never fully dies...)
These dreams spin around
Our conscience
Like the earth,
Spinning on its axis,
Rotating around the sun.
We rotate and
Gravitate towards
Each other too.
Like the thousand prayers
That are grafted from
Person to person.
All of them have a purpose.
But somehow it means more
When I can pray
For my sis.
A road to nowhere is all they construct
He who blindly follows will self-destruct
We awaken at dawn just to suffer
For many, life couldn’t be any tougher
Their dark cunning plans brought to light
The road to dystopia now glaringly bright
No real care for our sons and daughters
The evidence is in the poisoned waters
Treasured values slowly erode away
Degrading further day after day
People are just sacrificial pawns
To the maniacal of societies higher echelons
Billions spent to find that cancer cure
Trillions more needed, my good sir
A doctor’s visit may set you right
Treat your symptoms for the next fortnight
To a violent world they gravitate
The hidden hand doesn’t hesitate,
The deceived are marched off to war
To adorn their brothers in blood and gore
This digital age is one big prison cell
No more coins to drop in the wishing well
Just another languishing, unanswered dream
That, unfortunately, one cannot redeem
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