Thoughts rest as we float into our soul’s nest,
toroidal heart, where throbs soundless thunder,
bliss magnetism humming, deep in our chest,
leaving our presence awestruck in wonder.
At heaven’s gate, all nodes collaborate,
attuned to the pulse of the universe,
the music God makes, which then shapes our fate,
which we sing as a melodious verse.
Spine a harp, on which Divine Mother plays,
illumining our central vein with light,
rapture unbound, that by day and night stays,
inducing spasms borne by bliss beat’s delight.
God’s play divine sublime has but one aim ~
That in timeless time, we become the flame
being in a May-December relationship
could test the boundaries of patience
like the football socks under a teenager’s bed
it does not age well
these relationships have unique challenges
the rehashed stories of ‘the good old days’
smell of figments of their imagination
as it contradicts with history lessons taught
they harp on about ‘songs with words’
ones people could dance to
with their cheesy renditions of songs
accompanying conga lines of yesteryear
unlike today’s noisy club music
and the ability to twerk
will score you a Grammy Award
the mobility challenged can’t compete
they’ve bequeathed us an unhabitable world
where we all are now in a pickle
forming conga lines at border posts
as we try to dance out of harm’s way
Soul of love and soul of peace
Somewhere on heavens interwine
With grief, on earth their lips were freeze
In heart of sky they breathe and shine
They gaze on thy scars? They may be!
They smile but not for thee and me
On Earth love falls on thorns and bleeds
And dove of Peace in blood doth float
O mournful eyes which icy weeds?
Which tears of blood are in thy boat?
O souls of love and peace for Thine !
I vow to give these breathes of mine
My mortal friends wherest thou go?
Thou needles of the clock of life?
O harken! Harken ! Come and row
My sinking sinking Arc of life!
In thousand rhymes in thousand ways
I called and called these souls of thine
O come from yonder sky with fays!
My heart will breath with breathes of Thine
Love sang on harp, on palm peace perched
The tunes of both there intertwined
In awe and magic I them searched
All anthems float on gusts of wind
On heavens urn, love painted hue
In morning they will come with dew
This mortal world is made for us
But not for it are me and you
You're in love-plight and sing for me each night,
As though abandoned by the savage world;
On the kingsize bed, here, we spouses fight,
In whirlpools of nightmares, I'm, often, hurled...!
Insomniac and sleepwalking; I sing,
Mindlessly over roofs with broken tiles;
And hear from a far-off church, my knells ring,
Faded from our faces are those soft smiles...!
In the furnace of the cast we get burned,
Religions stand far and harp on morals;
When, lo, to ashes, our physiques get turned,
Will zeitgeists glorify us with laurels...?
Could clutches of cultures, yet, long hold back?
Yeah, at last, breaking the caves of our graves,
Our nightingales, within, will make crypts crack,
Sweet songs will soar over soundless sea waves...!!!
10 April 2023
SIMPLY POETRY 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
I've grown quite weary of negative poems full of sarcasms
It's true we're separated on many issues by deep chasms
We see things differently; shades of gray, black and white
but please stop demeaning others when critically some write
about government and vaccines as if you're having spasms?
Stop accusing people of wanting to live in an ivory tower
What are you hungry for? Do you seek recognition or power?
Freedom still exists in America, but if you don't agree
say goodbye to her shores and come face to face with reality.
Negativity breeds doom and gloom from voices that are sour.
Write of the beauty of Nature, or the good things people do
There's no need to harp on and on. It's redundant to boo hoo.
If writing about politics and religion ruffles feathers of peers,
focus on something else. All you have to do is change gears.
Writing positive poetry is a goal I ardently hope we will pursue.
Don't like to harp on the subject of sex
But it sure gets my libido a-going by heck
Ladies in bikinis are fine
But they're a dollar a dime
Need a statuesque blonde with a stunning rear deck
Mother Superior
and Father Supine
Needed to chat
But did it online
Sensuous sentences
Were not allowed
Too many ears
Can harp on the cloud!
Adjust to change right here and now,
New dawn to grace with a bold face;
Note new glimpse strange that cast endow,
Intent moves space in swift rat race;
Voice a new way to get ahead,
Etch profound poise most pragmatic;
Rouse feel to stay and not to dread,
Set sanguine choice more realistic;
Ample the tasks each moment hurls,
Read well each page to exceed worth;
Yes change old masks to greet the world.
Live well each stage from precious birth,
Keep focus sharp to gain true edge,
Yield what you harp on poignant ledge.
Leon Enriquez
22 March 2016
Singapore
Bernadette, ex-midinette,
now leaving Paris:
shop-girl day before.
Paris takes long time to leave,
with all the arrondissements...
Bernadette, ex-midinette
swaps shop-girl airs
for country air.
Paris now seen distantly:
the Eiffel Tower.
Perfect future lies in front
near Lille, or similar.
Shop-girl the day before.
Tells me not to harp on this
and holds up middle finger.
***************************
A midinette is a Parisian shop-girl.
5/1/2015
I tend to harp on the happy life
That I've been so lucky to have had
One of the fortunate ones that's for sure
Since I was just a wee lad
Why me, at times I've wondered
But really don't want a reason
Content to accept my very good fortune
My love is one for all seasons
Must have performed a special good deed
To deserve such a life so glorious
Guess I could classify my role up till now
As purely phantasmagorias
As I sail on forth to my golden years
Giving thanks for a life of love
Feel more fortunate than one man deserves
As the love light shines from above
I tend to harp on my happy life
That I've been so lucky to have had
Won't question the reason I've been chosen
To live this life filled with glad
© Jack Ellison 2015
Yes I am white, and yes I can write
From the DM and V so you think
I can not spill my guts or MC
I am dumb if I choose to believe
That I got any skill to convey
So much pain I have felt in my chest
From my dad smacking me in the head
Cause an F on a test and I guess
That's enough to put hands in the cuffs
And arrest the big pest that's oppressed
And has left me a mess and completely distressed!
I will no longer be so depressed
Or this pressed to suppress all this hate I possess
So no rest till I break these two chains
That have plagued all my veins, its insane,
When we don't have an answer!
Bruce Banners, the standard,
We lose all our manners
And start with the slander
Then harp on the "pampered"
With heart crushing banter
So dark is my candor
Were used to being used
and tossed in the hamper
I'll wash my lacoste but it only gets damper
And that's when I got get up, its enough
Cant let Russ, just adjust, my outcome
Or who I become!
This poem I wrote. I call it " Let Him Go "
Sweetheart don't cry
Don't let him make you feel like your nothing
You do have family even though we are not close by
I know your heart is crushing
Don't harp on the past
Don't let him play with your head
You need to get over him fast
His feelings for you are dead
Over 2 years and you still don't have a ring
Your not the one he calls his wifey to be no more
Take a seat and listen up girl here is the thing
He's playing with your feelings and using you like a two dollar whore
I know you were smart once and can be again
He has you so brain washed it's not funny
I know hearing all this is a strain
Think of the example your setting for you little ones honey
Hold your head high and walk away from that loser mama's boy
Show him that your the one that is too good for his sorry ass
Hell he's such a mama's boy you can find better pleasure in a toy
Your related to me so come on show your sass
Let go of the past and look to a new future
Let go of the pain and the control freak
Say bye bye Looser
It will get easier one step at a time week by week......
I hung my harp on a willow tree,
No longer could I sing,of what was me,
The tunes of yesterday,of no appeal,
That day,I found,life so real;
I sing today an inspired refrain,
Not of myself,yet simple and plain,
To tell of what has happened to me
Since I hung that harp on a willow tree
inspired by Psalm 137:1/2
I know of a guy, who just can’t sit up straight,
Anytime you look at him he’s in an inclined state.
It seems he always has to lean to one side or the other,
I’d tell him to sit up straight, but then again I’m not his mother.
Whatever’s wrong with him, he’s not a very sturdy fellow,
There’s always the possibility that his spine’s made out of Jell-O.
He might have a syndrome that always makes him lean,
To harp on his posture then might be kind of mean.
I think that it’s plain to see that it’s energy that he lacks,
That’s why, when he sits, he looks like melted candle wax.
It certainly says a thing or two about his lack of ambition,
When into the Earth’s gravity he reclines in full submission.
I know that in Italy they have a leaning tower,
Probably built by a guy like him working at half power.
An old rusty razor, to shave my head bald
My forearms your ashtray, my eyes your pin cushion
A bleach, ammonia bath twice a day, in scalding hot water
You may ask why I harp on my youth in such a fashion
The answer : Statistics, 83.4% of abused children : Abuse;
When they become adults does that hidden untold story :Live again?
Did My LORD JESUS, take Lenore to Save a generations' : “ Psyche “ ?
If so I am Pleased
Author’s Note : I’m not sure if I have set this in the right Form, Please Advise
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