a kite
with a severed string...
is what I am;
the wind's useful idiot,
d r i f t i n g
erratically
across the tempestuous sky,
losing all control...
make no mistake about that!
should I rise
with the morning sun
one day
and not see you
lying right next to me....
gee, I can't even imagine!
v u l g a r
just the thought of it!
you see,
you, my anchor
are the tethered string,
that gently reels me
d
o
w
n
from the evil winds that blow
in the loftiest of skies.
should I no longer have
your hand to hold,
no matter how you leave,
i'd be everything
to the gust of wind
and nothing
to myself.
i'd be however it wants me,
so please,
never do.
Everest brave Queen
As the whispering pines murmur your name,
The freezing air congeals your breath, and eve's
Misty veil shrouds your rosy visage. Then,
My dream appears, suffused with a mysterious smile:
'Holy Mother Peak, the summons is for you alone.'
When snow slumbers in the darkest, most remote paths,
The glacier's thunderous roar and the starlit firmament
Beneath your feet converge to beckon you, like the sonorous
Tolling of a temple bell that resounds through the stillness.
The enchanted, desolate beauty of the Loneliness Queen
Echoes with the ferocity of a tempest, where death
Looms as a constant companion with every tentative step.
Yet courage unfurls like fragrant grass, imbued with resolve.
One day, I shall vanquish you, O Peak, to behold
The most breathtaking spectacle: time suspended,
The Earth's rotation arrested, as if mesmerized by the scene—
Every moment frozen in awe as I stand on the loftiest
Pinnacle of the world. Beneath my feet, the world appears
Diminutive, for at last, the Queen is subdued,
Having fought the most arduous battle, and I, the victor,
Don the crown of snow with unyielding glory and pride.
Beneath the silver moon’s celestial glow,
A rose awakes where midnight breezes sigh,
Its crimson petals softly bend and bow,
Like whispered love beneath the weeping sky.
Each dewdrop gleams as if the stars had wept
Their diamonds on its velvet folds of flame,
While through the dark the dreaming forest kept
A hush that trembled at its secret name.
O gentle bloom, thou child of earth and light,
How dost thou mock the pride of sculptured stone,
For all man builds must perish in the night,
Yet beauty breathes where thou dost bloom alone.
I gaze on thee, and in thy fragrant grace
My restless heart forgets the wounds of time;
For nature writes upon thy tender face
A truth more pure than reason’s loftiest rhyme.
And though thy petals fade with morning’s breath,
And fall like crimson tears upon the sod,
Thy fleeting life proclaims through gentle death
The sacred hand of wonder—and of God.
A dollup
A trollup
A mole and a troll
Free spring it and wing it
…reach for the loftiest goals
A habit-ish hobbit
with a knob and grommet
is wearing a rakish sneer
All grasping and gobble
foam and fobble
Listen!
and you can hear
A rabbit…"Gosh nabbitt!"
A frog and a log
…all frolic, bucolic in the wondrous bog
All foggy and noggy
And wet noodle woggy
…The Farmaduke start to caw
If I had wings I'd outdo unfortunate Icarus
and soar up to the highest stratosphere.
Buoyant, I'd defy gravity and glide
over the loftiest snow tipped mountains,
or slide headfirst towards some deep vale
where iridescent meadows stretch into verdant pastures
where myriads of healthy cattle graze, placidly, alone.
If I had wings I'd play with high white clouds,
or scatter misty fluffy cumulus from over the fields
or cause precipitation to make our produce grow
in our windswept lush and fertile heartland.
Should I forget the poorer drought struck lands?
You know that I would not, not me.
If I had wings I would delight in competing
with all the various winds, and fly quiescent
savoring the multitudinous scents that emanate
from all the lovely flowers and all the well kept lakes.
But alas I have no wings and as I look up
and see the birds flying free, I feel it would have been
a better deal, if God had given me a pair of wings.
Raising children
Is the loftiest and bravest of human endeavors
For
It requires a life filled with:
Constant battles,
Ceaseless agonies, and
Perpetual sacrifices,
Without knowing, if the efforts made, will be
Crowned with success or not!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
01 July 2022
You are a gal of rarest graces
That no seraph can ever repel,
And albeit my ranks loftiest be,
Your glows highest angels fell.
Though past stars my domicile
Sits above ethereal sunlit patch,
Upon low Earth's mundane soil
Must this high-born ogler perch.
Thus do not feel too low I pray,
Since even celestial heros extol
Your flawless bedazzling sway;
And stars of heaven doting fall.
Hollyhocks blossom in shades white to black,
And a myriad of dramatic colors in between,
With a colossal height other beauties lack,
Long drowsy days charm all my garden green!
Cannas bloom in red, orange, yellow or pink,
And the loftiest ones can reach twelve feet,
Spreading joy for miles like sunset's blink,
Among lilies there waits a blissful retreat!
Delphiniums can grow as tall as seven feet,
So admired by flitting rose red butterflies,
Advancing skyward like cobalt blue parakeets,
When deep-colored summer is just on the rise.
If my choice for the presidency should lose
And I see how devalued my vote was worth
If I suffer great disappointment at the news
Still, never will I forsake the land of my birth.
I am a proud American!
I shall defend to my last dying gasp for clean air
The Constitutional rights we, the people, hold dear
I shall stand up to the ragtag anarchists who dare
To drag our country into a raging cesspool of fear.
I am a proud American!
I do not know what one man alone can accomplish,
But together, if we strive to achieve our loftiest goals,
The greatness that is America will not diminish
With freedom, honor, and virtue at the controls.
I am a proud American!
The night of anguish and wakefulness
Bewildered me like a lost sailor in the endless
Vast sea, yet the agonies I embrace as I find
The kernel becomes edible when
I scrape off the rind,
I could not reach the yonder
Light of the loftiest star,
Still to see its gleam I have a desire.
Only divine destiny can cure my destiny,
Only the sun that shines with generosity
Can make my sea of life bountiful, wondrous
Things I have seen arising from my sea that create
Huge waves— appear to me rumbling, unpredictable
Sometime, that taunt me to regard my humble
Pool with tiny ripples!
Every now and then, when love catches me unawares
I struggle to break free
To sneak free of unbidden glares
From a pesky glee
When love grows fickle
Taking my breath away
Dwindling its attention to a trickle
Whose feet of clay
Make me plane rough edges
Love displays in the behavior
Monitored and featured on pages
Where love’s savior
Longs to enable a smooth ride
Love bestows on lovers
Once I get matters in my stride
Assuming the status of prime movers
To chart a new course in which love thrives
In optimal conditions of pressure and temperature
As the concept of love arrives
On the scene to grant my lover and I a future
We deserve to blossom
In theory and in practice
As our twosome
Who does our love justice
With flying colours
For my lover and I to breathe a sigh of relief
As my love vectors and scalars
Soar to the loftiest height without any further beef.
Sacrificing oneself for others is the loftiest demonstration of loving God!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
29 March 2018
* Dedicated to the late French Lt. Col. Arnaud Beltrame who last week sacrificed himself to save others during a terrorist attack in Paris! R.I.P. you hero of God.
* Arnaud Beltrame, was declared a national hero by the French president, Macron and he had a hero's state funeral!
Yesterday is an empty vessel
That has sailed; forever lost at sea.
While tomorrow is on it's way
Why not live today now?
Make the best of it. It's a day of renewal.
The sun is shining through marshmallow clouds!
A chorus of birds are singing in the trees!
Flowers of spring are colorfully blooming!
The world is beautifully dressed in green.
When you open up the window of tomorrow,
Today, you'll see the garden of possibilities.
You'll see it blooming before your eyes.K
When you wake up at dawn, shut the door
To yesterday. You'll feel inspired
To take chances over being smothered
By fear of failure, or the unknown
Today, give hostages to fortune,
Regardless of consequences. Start looking
For a blueprint to build the loftiest
Of dreams, and the ladder to climb it.
Date: 04/13/2020
Written and posted: 03/28/2018
When the old man was a sailor
When food was served, before cleaning pots and pans
the old man when young, went out on deck to see the sunset.
A dreamy that is if a tempest wasn`t blowing,
gale in the mighty Pacific reduced the bravest to shivering gnat.
The old man was a cook not the loftiest type of work, whoever
wrote a book titled:” The adventure of a ship`s cook.”
The old man, when he was young, got up early to see the sunrise
before frying eggs and bacon, not forget baking bread; and receive
the insults by frustrated, womenless seamen.
But he was there in all the oceans, their tranquilities and fury,
what was left was serene evenings alone in his cabin read great
novels about audacious voyagers.
A dollup…a trollup
A mole and a troll
Free spring it
we wing it …while reaching for toffee-est loftiest goals
A habit-ish hobbit
with a knob and gromet
is wearing a rakish sneer
All grasping and gobble... foam and fobble - listen and you will hear!
A rabbit…Gosh nabbitt
A frog and a log…all frolic bucolic in the wondrous bog
but get foggy and noggy
and wet noodle woggy…
when the Farmadukes start to ...caw ...caw ...caw
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