The Unforetold Truth
The Truce unclaimed is yearning
The Halo surrounded is hatful
The treasure unfound is slothful
The ink unused is fading
The forces unchallenged are daring
The stakes untaken are dilapidating
The cross unbeard is rightful
The characteristics unfeatured are deriding
The Chances non-formed are regretful
What do all these culminate to produce?
The Unforetold Truth
The knowledge present in everyday felicitations and adventures reborn
The Unforetold truce present in the lie conquered and disseminated
Where there is strength in bold and overridden fear
With success in the wind.
‘Life is a beach and sometimes you fry’
Sun-crested waves meander towards castles in sand from our high hopes of flow
teasing our scorched driftwood channelling waters caressing high tides and low
sun burn riptides and undertow rally trust in the life guards’ experience of sinking
request a hatful of hope and emotion a sunscreen of love and reorganised thinking
4th September 2016
Crazy as a dream, I'm workin as a team
and my soul lays in sorrow as I bathe
in the moon beam.
Stuck in such a devilish scheme
and sadly this background beholds a
hatful theme.
This motion, this potion has me
floating in the ocean, I wish I were
a boat so my head could keep a float.
Dead in a bed, head full of med, wouldn't you
say thats enough said?
A chuckle and a laugh, as rare as acing math,
wish I just knew the first steps of my path as the
universe comes crashing upon my thoughts, left in knots,
will I reside with the rest of the forgotten plots?
Will I fail to connect the dots?
Surely I do fear to stear my thoughts beneth the
horses trots. Recollect what you've read, I'm a mess
its been said, but I grin from cheek to cheek because I'll
fight until I'm dead.
So when the stream flows by, and
you fail to spot reflection, resist to give in for
within love hides affection, your heart is your protection.
Know that love is your glove of hope, let love be the slant to your slope.
I hope that love renders you clean, I hope that love sews your seam.
I hope that love flows in your stream.
-JLG
Wicked
Young minds
They delude innocence
Forever they act sovereign
Ameer
Childish
Their behavior
Often they clamor
Wail their emotions behemoth
Dour
Play
With gesture
Time befriend rejoice
Busied with oneirisms foretold
Pollyannaish
Cozened
Hatful alibis
Bebop their paroles
Disputes often looked battles
Liberty
Bored
By pages
Books limned cartoons
Brains mattered to creations
Jejune
Love
Yet teemed
Maneuvered by care
Parents seek for smile
Charismatic
------------x----------------
Out of the dark clouds
I would like to paint a clear blue sky
Birds flocked and cotton clouds clustered
And autumnal daytime rays of light
Mirrored over the wheatish farm.
Out of the flooded land
I would like to paint a cropped season
Two sparrows chirping over the jutting out branches
And the boggy field of monsoon
Seeded for the winter harvest.
Out of the caged houses
I would like to paint children playing around
Two teens making out and hatful shopping around
And the inactive citizenry of the August
Grooming for the awaited festival to come.
Out of the canopy
I would like to paint an ablaze realism
Women in solitaries and classy men
And the kid who exacted
Blessed by the divine soul.
Fourteen horsemen are riding together
With pistols, and rifles, holstered in leather.
Bank robbery is the reason; it's me they chase,
Eager men of all sizes and different race.
The sheriff and his posse are hot on my trail,
Determined to hang me in front of the jail.
There’ s a five thousand dollar reward on my head,
Makes no difference if I'm live or dead.
My horse has gone lame and my canteen is dry,
I'm sucking on cactus so of thirst I don’t die.
It's a five-mile walk to the Rio Grand,
Where I can drink my fill by hatful or hand.
I've already hidden the money and gold,
Inside a cottonwood, by it's size, is old.
Someday I'll return and my treasure I'll take,
Then build me a castle by a pristine lake.
Presently my choice is to run for my life,
Cause I can't fight fourteen with a gun and knife.
If I reach the river I'll grab me a log,
Swim for the current and get lost in the fog.
Lord, if you're willing, please save me "one more time,"
And I'll never rob again, I'll just write rhyme.
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