Long Amply Poems
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We file on through scheming life's snaring wiles,
Unlearning bitter lessons sad yesterdays taught;
Biting humble pies for blunders repeatedly made,
Yet unheeding despite like fights erstwhile fought.
Our one-way treks through world's tasking routes
Are at best rehearsals for imagined second walks,
Which infeasible rematch with sad selfsame bouts,
Fleeting breath rightly nips with her cunning clocks.
We thus ought to vastly more steadfastly move,
And with every strengthened stride amply prove
The truth that living pops but once for each man;
And we simply die if we do not live while we can.
Smiling turns occur to usher in impatient others,
And hence no round retarding backward unfurls;
Our feet still unseen episodes constantly beckon
Into new climes wherein time's shadow smothers.
We must seize our fresh hour in its shiniest hue,
While rawest pep throbs in each vein and sinew.
Is there a purpose for struggling,
enduring trails that could be been avoided?
What motivates an individual to surpass
any conceivable limit to build a concept?
A normal person has less cares than a genius;
no passion for art or interest in science,
so aimless is that existence
resembling a shadow passing.
A philosopher once said that,
" All legends are made by dreams,
in which their heroes are immortalized,
but their inner voices are as faint
and distant as raging waterfalls
descending steeply to splash in rivers below;
and to hear them, you must get closer enough,
until their loud sound can deafen
the ears and astonish the eyes. "
Oh, I have contemplated them in sheer surprise!
Nobody ever sees a thinker's curved back
laying on the water-splashed, cracked rock;
if civilization has betrayed his idealistic thoughts,
accusing him of insanity and prejudice:
how can dark minds be lucid enough to discern
what he sees in images of true perfection?
And he will be another outcast detested by society
for having demonstrated a superior mentality?
Go to the highest hill, amid the rugged mountains
and find him in the same spot meditating
over a glorious view that only the believers admire;
go and comfort him with a friendly hand-shake,
and amply confirm that his action wasn't a mistake,
but a challenge and a cause worth-taking.
And his testimony, that all legends are made by dreams,
is found in his prophetic and exquisite writings.
Natural hairs capture soul;
holds to grow affection whole,
promotes cultural value-
what its heritage ensue.
Girl and mother are within,
each tale of the new bumpkin,
on their own to tell children,
how they started using pen
In place of popular quill,
not considering its bill,
so far it is good to eyes
than trying to improvise...
In usage to pen's trouble:
is refill its ink- double
portion quill's pot left fully-
wet, dark and cool yet amply!
Oh women! women! women!
why not natural like men?
rarely would you ever be.
don't you admire been so free?
How time tempts patience to fix:
nails, eyes lashes, hair depicts
urge for fashion cum beauty,
more to neglect home duty.
Yet fades in no time better
the worth of being stress petter,
before subsequent one calls,
while the current one's point falls¡
To waste more time than usual,
which should build individual
to selfless service like Ruth,
during the days of her youth.
Though, fashion no doubt is cool,
but much fondly of jewel
can bring wastage to time than
money, cum choice to have plan.
Just to look so beautiful,
shouldn't take that much amble
to show the aesthetic wealth,
rather invest more on health.
Walk for everyday workout,
better than fashion hangout:
solely on compliment's tale,
which hurts when drunk of its ale.
For its high expectation,
continuous admiration-
fades in no time with epoch,
accounting enough havoc!
He knew the river bend, both sides
Curbs and crannies, hits and hides
Bluffs and burrows the land abides
That is why they paid him ...
Amply, the cartel paid him
His childhood spent upon the creek
Fishing, games - like hide-and-seek
Now he earned, thru just one week
His father's yearly wage ...
That, two times his age
Indeed, there was great risk to him
Guiding migrants while light was dim
Tho' other chances for income, slim
For any mixed-race kid ...
No matter what he did
So he'd taken the job as coyote
Hiding folks to the Land of Free
Now, not worth what he'd never be
In the river, floats face-down ...
And no ... he didn't drown.
Wearing her zippered jumpsuit of lime
My queen loves to survey the valley's field.
She dreams of finding a perfect place and time
She can make her dream city something real.
Megiddo was an ancient and famous city
Where starting at Solomon's gate then entering in,
Delight, pleasance and joy showed no pity,
And t'was no comfort not to be found within.
This proud city of great power and zeal--
The glory of some rare ancient engineer--
Has seen dust fly from many a chariot wheel,
When victorious kings came to holiday here.
Perhaps ancient Israel's most splendid city,
It soon captured every kingdoms' eye.
A diadem of the Jezreel Valley so pretty,
It invoked the kiss of the Assyrian sky.
Surrounded by its high double-thick stone walls,
Megiddo’s palaces did lavishly and amply abide,
Containing their ornamentally furnished halls,
With towers, storehouses, and courtyards alongside.
And then there are temples—believed to be three,
With vestibules for believers to enter in.
Then of course the altar for only the holy to see,
Where doctrines are given a positive spin.
Where’er perfect foundation might lay,
My queen shall find a delightful field.
And there to be in full domain and array,
The promise of Eden most
empyreal.
Along the ambrosial garden alleyway
of assorted colors, it appeared we ambled together
for ages, until an atrocious angst of afflicting storm
blew away all the flowers abloom for us.
As apathy rent asunder my dreams gone awry
the embrace of the empty amorous arms
avidly amassed the splinters of my shattered heart.
In the pull-apart arcane aperture of anguish
my ardent ardor dissipated away in thin arid air.
After all these agonizing years adrift alone,
a dazzling day dawned above the debris of hope.
With auspicious aura of attractive future fascinating
my appetency arose afresh as the dust of my dream.
The allure of the affable smile on your face aglow,
I once adored, amply assured me I could assuage
my acrid feeling and absolve myself of
the abysmal attribution of abject remorse.
When I accessed your aromatic ambiance
in abandoned garden with vestige assembled again,
I became an aspirant butterfly afloat
with the tapestry of winged ecstasy
on the adornment of your amazing beauty.
October 12, 2019
Endless ribbon of tattered poetry in pavement,
Trail of tears for wandering vagabonds,
Seek yourself from this time forth betwixt sunrise and senility,
For the tides of the seasons grow weary with long-suffering,
To the hopes thou clingeth unto, by breadth and bound, unwavering still,
To where have thy troubadours vanished my heartland?
Into the unforgiving sea of nights, long past beneath God's eyes,
Tell me, oh mother, who wring thine hands in the terrible simplicity of despair,
Where have thine young sojourned unto, beyond your grieving sight,
Far across the smoking hills of sin and smoldering ash, to find beauty amongst anguish,
Listen not to the cries of death that smite the heart with wild and evil abandon,
And do you not hear the song of the mourning dove, low and yet with hope,
And tell me, Mr. Kerouac, whither hast thou been these few milion moons before,
Among the snow of the peaked mountains, hushed with the silent iron hand of winter
Drifting amply with the loneliness of the four winds of the Swanee, and the mighty
Mississippi
So roll tides, roll, to take you back to the streets of long-lived, and still loved Lowell,
There are ghosts in the alleys, but thou art no specter in the darkness,
Let us focus, with unwavering desire and redemption, to life and death, body and soul,
To you, the wanderer with pen and parchment, who told the nations of life on the
road
And the majestic unyielding awe of every eye and stillness fixed on every tounge,
from the picture thou hast set before the whole of old America,
For you had me at "Praised be man" in the senseless throes of unbridled youth,
And left to dream of moonlit vigils, as can be seen from the pilot seat of a battered
beetle,
Following the footsteps and felt pen, driving across '66, to Seligman and Flagstaff,
To loll and roll, with the unreal unfurling of your manuscript reels, to give freely your
confusion
For a timeless, aimless quote by thee, picturesque and wanting with gusto
"Whether goest thou America, in thy shiny car in the night?"
Blessings from the heartland, Mr. Kerouac.
See you in Big Sur.
Though these old gates
My mentor waits,
To help cast fate
Where dream now dates.
A sanguine man
Who knows the way,
Tells me I can
Live well each day.
Each question tells
My vivid tale,
A bright sparks dwells
In hidden veil.
Each answer lifts
My heart to know,
To seize the gift
That ever shows.
Seek deeper then
The way of flow,
Know the right when
To amply grow.
I seek to feel
The pulse of zest,
Watch as jazz thrills
Vain foible jest.
I ask for more
That I may know,
A deeper core
That now must show.
I learn to learn
A secret well,
Yearn more to earn
To cast fond spells.
I come to be
The truth I speak,
Yes now I see
How passion peaks.
Leon Enriquez
01 October 2017
Singapore
Try these tips from Scripture to add more joy to your life.
Give three compliments every day
“Like golden apples in silver settings are words spoken at the proper time” (Proverbs 25:11).
Look for the silver lining in every dark cloud. “Even
though you meant harm to me, Eternal God meant it for good,
to achieve his present end, the survival of many people”
(Genesis 50:20)
Make the best of any situation. “We know all things
work for good for those who love God
Who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Tip generously, give freely to beggars. “He who
confers benefits will be amply enriched, and he who
refreshes others will himself be refreshed” (Proverbs
11:25).
Say, “thank you,” often. “In all circumstances give
thanks, for this is the will of God for you in [Father] Christ
Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Sing in the shower. “But I shall sing of your
strength, extol your love at dawn, for you are my
fortress, my refuge in time of trouble’ (Psalm 59:17).
After rounding up some cattle
I headed to the saloon
To have a drink or two
And hear a bawdy tune
Cowpokes were gambling
And guzzling up their beer
The women were upstairs
Their bosoms amply filled
Waiting to give us all a thrill
After a couple shots of whiskey
A poker game I did seek
Hoping I'd soon be on a winning streak
My luck was going good and
The cowpokes I was beating
Until big Jim accused me of cheating
A fight broke out and turned into a brawl
Big Jim got hit, and took a mighty fall
When it was all over I was still standing tall....
The cattle would be rounded up tomorrow once again
And I would be right there, ridin' on the plains
1-26-2021
Cowboy Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier