A quick study
fast learner
knowledge gainer
page-turner
info. retainer
midnight lube burner
all at sea
in a world of turmoil
choosing my words carefully
pouring oil on turbulent waters
a salve to soothe the sorry soul
picking only those
which carry weight
reset the balance
and the sentiment I wish to state
losing myself in the still point
of my poetry
it's there where I find
sweet sanctuary
feet tracing ruts
softened by the weight of others
the path was worn
polished
not by insight
but by generations
unquestioning the same direction
a weed split the sidewalk
where my foot hesitated
they handed us maps
already marked, folded
creased at the routes
they wanted us to traverse
walls hung with heirlooms
no one claimed
shadows
longer than the rooms
classrooms’ chalkboards of certainty
offices pressed flat with protocol
we learned the art
of veiling the eye behind the eye
we drank from vessels
lips like waiting mouths
etched with forgotten crests
believing the shape of the cup
taught us thirst
air rehearsed its return
like a tethered animal pacing
the same invisible circle
inscribed with grace
shaped like a cage
narrowing the limit
of knowledge
of wisdom
altars made from repetition
shaped our days
to fit the mold
filed down the splinters of doubt
until only smooth compliance remained
tell me—
what is awakening
if not the moment
your hand reaches
for a handle
no one told you was there
and the quiet moment after waking
my heart
uncertain
unshod
hesitates…
In vanity, we inquire into the empty heavens
And witness only birds hunting
In vanity, we dive into the sea and the earth
And discover just bones rotting
In vanity, we read the writings of the learned
And find their footsteps decaying
Within you, behind all the clothing of words
Look, and behold the eternal tree of knowledge
Whose fruits are mankind's untainted ideas
And rests within our hand's reach, beyond the world's edge
Inspired by a passage from "The Principles of Human Knowledge" by the Irish philosopher George Berkeley, near the end of the work's introduction.
She is Well Versed, Abundant and Blessed
by Sara Teasdale
She speaks in tones the stars would keep,
Soft syllables of hidden seas,
Her laughter wakes the buds from sleep,
And scatters warmth through autumn trees.
The world is richer for her gaze,
Where light bends close to kiss her face.
Each step she takes is spun with praise,
And lilies bloom to scent the air.
Her hands hold rain, her eyes the skies,
Her heart a deep, untroubled well,
She gathers dreams the dawn supplies,
And guards the truths she will not hide.
Through all she gives, she knows her worth—
In love’s wide garden, she has rest;
She walks the shining fields of earth,
Well versed, abundant, wholly blessed.
In the black throat of space, words spiral,
Charred syllables drifting like moths to no flame.
Every book, every prayer, every curse
Finds its way into the bone-dust of stars.
I dream of archives stitched into the dark,
Veins of memory pulsing through nebulae—
All our hands, bloody or tender,
Catalogued in the frost of dead moons,
And liquid methane.
The universe hums like a nuclear engine,
Its shelves sagging with unsaid apologies,
Maps drawn by trembling conquerors,
The taste of fruit extinct for a thousand years.
We vanish, but the sentences remain,
Tattooed in light, spinning past the last horizon,
A chorus of vanished throats still singing,
Though no ear will ever hear them again made whole.
a peaceful heart
with
its recurring visions
of
a bright light
at
the end
of
a long tunnel
AP: 3rd place 2025
What’s happening is clearly understood.
Apollo has one hand around her waist,
one predator, one quarry, interlaced.
He’s coming up behind her (which is good),
but she’s a tree (two lovers, getting wood!)
She’d rather change her state than be disgraced,
preferring to be chaste than to be chased.
She’s choosing abstinence, above life's blood.
Is love a trauma, to be undergone?
Arousal something ugly, to be faced?
Should Nature’s process be looked down upon?
The carnal act, a tactless lapse of taste?
Or might the thing be ardently embraced?
We, formless fragments, merging in The One?
Animals may live in bliss,
yet as such it is remiss
on our part not to explore,
the way to God through heart’s door.
Since mind has limitation,
peace as our meditation,
positions us in the void,
where we’re not by thoughts decoyed.
In time stretched calm, ego’s shorn,
whereupon we’re reborn,
feeling bliss ignition start,
deep in the cave of our heart.
As we come into our own,
with wisdom of sages known,
our bleeding heart is then healed,
when light of Self is revealed.
Thirst does not have to remain suppressed
A continuous flow of fulfilling hydration
Faithful concrete promises
"For My thoughts are not your thoughts"
Reminder for days where my mind attacks
However, what is true is that I was made by You
Detailed in creation, carpentry beyond worldly comprehension
Empathy combines with intention
Realizing the similarities the Father places within us
Spirit flows and speaks freely
Jesus also has empathy
When I think about you my heart flutters,
A hush like wind through evening shutters—
Soft and sudden, tender-sweet,
The pulse beneath my thoughts and feet.
Beauty and books, how close they lie,
Like stars that lean in to kiss the sky.
Wisdom and knowledge, gently sewn
From seeds the same wild tree has grown.
I’ve seen your gaze in candlelight,
Like dawn that steals the strength of night.
In quiet halls your name appears
Between the lines of ancient words.
Pink oysters bloom within my dreams,
Drifting down soft silver streams—
So strange, so bright, their ghostly hue,
As if the sea were dreaming too.
You are the hush in whispered pages,
The calm that stills the storm of ages.
Your words are dew on morning’s face,
A quiet truth, a kind of grace.
Though time may scatter what we knew,
Each thought of you begins anew.
And in my breast a sparrow sings—
A flutter born on hidden wings.
So when I think of you, I go
Where petals fall and moonlight flows—
Where beauty, books, and dreams combine
To make the fleeting moment mine.
Immersed in this matrix of space and time,
bemused by desires, we’ve drifted afar
but if we listen, we’ll hear God’s bliss chime,
revealing to us who we truly are.
Made in God’s image, we are living light,
eternal, at peace and feeling complete,
awareness self-aware, vibrant and bright,
standing erect, mirroring God’s heartbeat.
Sin stems from ignorance but when truth’s known
we then see clearly that we all are one,
repaying debts of love owed, we atone,
our aura luminous, like yonder sun.
Ego exhumed, we become the vast sky,
as light eternal that can never die.
As I sat thinking the other day,
A flow of thoughts brought these words to say.
Some were fleeting, some longer lasting,
Like the evening shadows the sun was casting.
Quenching my thirst for knowledge to be known,
Neither rightness nor wrongness had a need to be shown.
Titles and labels were thrown to the floor,
As aspects and insights began to soar.
How can the beginnings and endings be understood?
If we look inside, then they could.
It’s looking inside, to determine the intention,
That reveals a truth that fuels comprehension.
It’s the essence of Truth that we must perceive,
To see its value so we can believe.
Through perception to conception, we begin to relish,
The connection to perfection, we then can embellish.
Seek Knowledge
People are hungry for spiritual nourishment.
Need rest from all of the chaos.
Your vision is blurry.
With heavy burdens, always worried.
With gossip, always complaining.
Never open minded.
Castings stones at others.
A path of the unrighteous.
Never open to change.
It has to be always your way.
Separate yourself from the world.
Greedy but unfulfilled.
Only focus on wants and needs.
Never giving. Always receiving.
Blaming someone else.
Never take accountability.
Aggressive and always with anger yelling.
Never slow to anger.
Takes time to mature.
A new road, follow the cross.
Barry, your old ways.
Rise up and be humble.
This is the new me.
I stand here gazing at stars in the sky,
Wondering what happens when I die?
It’s harder to see with my own eye,
The purpose of life as it passes by.
First, I’ll consider the where, when, and why?
Who or what it was, that caused my goodbye?
What was important, whether girl or guy?
A purposeful life, or is that a lie?
Was it important, the people I knew?
Or all the things I did or didn’t do?
Was it what I learned as my knowledge grew?
Or what I passed on, at least to a few?
To many questions I could clearly see,
My purpose in life was I became me.
W-isdom
I-ntelligently
L-ets
M-inds
A-pprehend
P-hilosophy
A-nd
S-cience
A-lways
L-earning
O-nward
©bfa061425
Monocrostic (Birthday of Wilma Pasalo)
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