Long Bound up Poems

Translation of Eric Mottram’s Courbet: Elegy 8 by T. Wignesan

Blanches oeuvres ouvertes
résident dans les jours
la surface du banc de travail est noire
les géraniums-lierres
les fougères et les adragans
accumulent leurs oeuvres et jours:
La toile noire de Courbet
un...

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We are human being with a soul
We were taken from the North and South Pole
And left in a basket at the flagpole
If all the relics in history were unfold
You would discover that the real threshold
Is...

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The True Story

A Poem of the time, when as a 16 year old young fellow, and fresh from Blighty I spent 7 years as a Ringer in North Queensland, Australia. A Ringer is the Queensland...

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The white race has a point
But that doesn't mean
They should treat us improper
The white race has a point
Nature is repeating it over and over
White snow, white moon
white Jesus, white angels
white robes, white clouds
White pedestrian crossing
White...

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Everybody love to say they’re number one,
but it takes two
to make beautiful music, 
so we’re told
Pitch perfect
That one favorite song two lovers have,
it never gets old
After ninety nine repeats, 
it sounds one zero zero multiple...

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It is with tears in my eyes that I write these verses of hope, it is with tears in my eyes I climb the mountain of joy  and stands on top of it and...

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I'm writing on the first page.
I love the concord and quiet at my age.
The morning came from a genius mage.
In my spirit, I am searching for the truth stage.
To understand things to resist this upsurge.
It...

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Memories And Melanie .
My youngest  Daughter

Taking a stroll, this day, through the pages of time.
Time that has passed into history, a history that is yours and mine.
That history, my Dear, are the memories, and...

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I have been writing this verse since last night
But my heart was so heavy, my tongue cleaved  
To the roof of my mouth and it felt as though 
Something has fallen through the roof
I...

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All the yesterdays,
With their shadows, haunting 
Feeding my heart with melancholic
Memories, floating on seas 
Of silence, still as the moments
Falling. Like leaves or dandelion seeds,
Alive, dancing, blowing…

All the yesterdays,
In prayers, erasing the darkness,
Silly moments stored...

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The little stall stands behind the black dilapidated wall whose bricks have been showing years of stained motion welled up inside the folly of man. The destiny of the wall speaks to the nature of...

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Unquotable quotes: Addictions: Smokes, Drugs, Sex, Films and Sleep – XL

Where the hand leads, the eyes close.
When the eyes shut, imagination is on fire.
What you don’t really see is what you feel.
When you feel at...

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I can feel the heat raging inside me and sweat purging out of my flesh, it is a sudden sensation that comes upon me that leaves me grasping for breath. The sun has just risen...

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In the secret places
Of my heart, 
Little breaths erase the whispers,
Lingering like softest inspirations,
Listening to my beating, rhythmic 
Echoes, freedoms
Moments just like dewlike dreams,
Falling softly on the edges
Of shadows,
Where there live silhouettes
Confiding in the mysteries,
Reasons...

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What is a life when you’re constrained,
your words bound up within your brain,
from fear of punishment without,
from tyrants or folks without doubt?
So all that matters can’t be said,
it makes the soul and spirit dead,
when men...

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Icicles hang on the edges
Silence creeping into the conversation
Revealing the boredom of this skirt
Tendrils of frozen water suspended
On hearts, hopes and dreams

Moonlight flickers on the night
Ebony haven of owl and coyote
Animals wild and warmed by...

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...He laughed at memes, he watched podcasts,
rolled digital eyes at the news,
saw endless reams of adult stuff,
why they liked it, he never knew…

But in this searching he came on
a fact he’d never realized:
A.I.s lasted just...

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Albert Nolan
"Abtract Gospel"
God in
"Picture" out
current problems
shoved aside
preach good
Feel good
do apartheid

II - Part 2
In his book, God in South Africa The Challenge of the Gospel," Albert Nolan ends his work quoting passages from Isaiah that convict...

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This body I’m in is bound up in countless chains
This body I’m in is so captive to all sorts of pains
My soul is broken spiritually and I need some relief
My heart is refusing to pound...

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...With that he went to a small chest, retrieved a bound-up scroll,
and her eyes went quite wide with shock when the thing was unrolled,
’twas her emancipation, and he’d signed it with his name,
“It’s all that...

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She lay on the sofa,
Two arthritis pain pills nearby, 
Holding a thin romance book
With a thin plot involving
An empty heroine, an empty hero,
Explicitly but tastefully making love.

I’ve heard, she said, closing the book,
Marking her place...

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I woke up this morning
with a strange heat blazing under my feet
I was pacing up on down the floor 
like a heifer on heat beating down the door

Sweat drips like leaking pipes from my face
as...

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Time is indifferent to our words
And Time does not heal wounds
Made by the careless lash of sound
In fury - or by corrupted Law.
Set heart deep in Purpose without direction
Stretching on without surcease
   ...

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I.
When he was born he was named Reid Gibson,
and his parents weren’t the richest of folk,
didn’t have money to buy land back east,
so off to the great frontier they did go.

This was way back in...

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a woman who had been crippled and infirm for eighteen years long
had a chance encounter with Jesus who healed and made her strong
that woman had been in bondage she was bound up in her life
now...

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