Long Bountiful Poems
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5/21/11-5/22/11
I rule over the night
undaunted with all my might
I have time to spare all I can bare
Watching the hand chime
tugging…pushing…shoving
through whirling toil
that feed the spoil
Perplexing strife
refusing to give up
Power and torment
We are too caught up in our own power
and ruling over each passing moment
each passing night…destroying the twin towers
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?
I’m tossed…shifting around with uncontrolled anguish
Zipping…tripping over rambling bolts
spiraling into a mad house
Don’t enchant your intolerable voice
I see no love dwelling in this household
Do you seek for your power…
you insufferable traitor?
Seeking our upcoming doom
brewing strife in the heap of ruins
brewing strife while we still leave room
to obey and remain under power
You are assuming the worst
father…mother…
rule over the passing anguish…circling around
stumbling around…not aware
Hey you! play fair
Behave and stay awhile
before you feed the fire that holds sheer vile
Allow love to not be thrown away
into another pile
I grasp no love engrained
In our giving garden
that plants ceaseless approval
Pardon my faults
I was far from comforting sleep
Dread is driven mysteriously
Through an endless night
Moving on the tracks
Forming into an alarming train
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?
Who did the labor suitably?
worthwhile father…pleasure-seeking mother
Don’t enchant your intolerable voices
and expect us to listen sensibly
Demanding us to do labor
and assist our displeased neighbor
Why do you melt the delight away?
Throwing away a flavor of ecstasy
and put us to glove-less labor
without putting our favor and opinion
into the overlooked pile
Burning agony
dries the buried glee
Saved for a grieving moment
Playing like a warped tune… unable to express
solitude that develops in the heart
raped by the ragged uncertainties
without taking heed of our pleas
These desirable moments
Cherished in the deplorable journey
They weren’t acknowledged by power
Love in those days were brand new
Do you have a clue?
they were cherished...
Bountiful…
stranded in a deserted past
in merciful beauty…caught under the spell
Where did that come to pass?
Where’s the love?
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?
(1.)
Alas! So Shoot Me, I Grieve What Was Lost
Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost
Not just youth, but those things Time took away
Within aching heart comes an icy frost
Covering epic pains of such decay!
One may ask, how dare I so complain?
Does Nature cry about hard falling rain?
Yet does not this world its ills promote well?
Oft with sorrows borne from depths of Hell?
Dare I choose to such dark verses to write?
Have I not truly joined in the fight?
Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost
Not just youth, but those things Time took away
Within aching heart comes an icy frost
Covering epic pains of such decay!
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet, repeat stanza ( with triple couplets )
******
(2.)
Those Lush And Tender, Soft Welcoming Lips
Those flowing curls, glowing luscious mane
Sexy smile, flowering as desert rain
Bountiful beauty, sent to ease heart's pain
Lovely blessing sent for this soul to gain.
Ravishing essence with sweet touch to match
My hesitation, thinking what is the catch
That such a beauty would now my way pass
A goddess, sweet speaking to this poor lass.
Those lush and tender, soft welcoming lips
With true beauty, grace, and curvaceous hips
Yes beauty, as could launch a thousand ships
And greatest king's treasure surely eclipse.
Those tender kisses that were sent both ways.
May we forever - remember that day!
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet,
( And Life, Its Journey Ever Sped Onward )
******
(3.)
Does Basking Moon Ask Strolling Stars For More
Of beauty, earth, wind and soft glowing sky
Dares this artist to weep tears asking why
Heart and soul must pay such a heavy price
And shed blood for it to ever suffice?
Does basking moon ask strolling stars for more
Space and time to heavenly night explore
And cast upon earth a much deeper hue
To inspire such in poets such as you?
Does dawn its resplendent new rays withhold
That gift, that gleaming beauty to be sold
Or Mother Nature fail to gift new birth
Or poets fail to cast beauty's true worth?
Do such quizzing queries set well in verse
Or fail as being dated and quite terse?
Robert J. Lindley,
Sonnet,
( And what of life, love and this thing we call earth ? )
Infallible
I fall into the rain, beneath me;
My sky a glittery dust to thee,
Calling the joy I hath not met,
Thou cometh sweetly, but late.
I fall into the cold, and just me;
Only I understand the clouds,
Oh! I cannot seek that ‘tis so loud,
Too much noise, sickly around me!
Those fallen tears around my head;
The soundlessness of one’s fate,
And hark, in such quietness,
The decrepit being of hotness!
Those ragged stars about my hair;
Closing in on me, and my air,
With hues dyed in drowned sunshine,
But proud still, in its dried signs.
For such heat hath closed me;
Hath sifted me away from you.
For such guilt hath haunted me;
Hath kept me away anew.
For such a love, that thou felt;
But not yet felt again, today,
The gaze that I once beheld,
The words my heart cannot say.
Wherefore art thou, my beloved;
For t’is passion is tainted but pure,
To behold, to instill, to demure,
The meaning of this first love.
Wherefore art thou, my paint;
These poems hath not been said,
I see chaos, and not a flesh of fate,
I hath been loving in vain.
Wherefore art thou, my gaze;
Why cannot I see you through my face,
To hear such a bountiful voice,
To be about thee, in this bliss.
Wherefore art thou, my voyage;
I cannot stay this sober longer,
And hysteria, turning into sobs,
Like death, as my heart throbs.
Wherefore art thou, my colour;
Bestowed on thee my honour,
And age, with my fleeting skin,
Waiting in haste, to be seen.
Wherefore art thou, my winter;
Having too many doubts in summer,
Awaiting a lover that lasts,
By the moonlight and stardust.
Wherefore art thou, my rain;
And the sung that sings again,
To release my midnight, its pain—
To be my beloved, then.
Wherefore art thou, my kiss;
I can see your solemnity,
A thousand unsung melodies,
To bless, to make love to me;
Wherefore art thou, my art;
Too much of me is in my heart,
But none with a charm like thee,
Like the poet in fire, that in me.
Wherefore art thou, my sword;
I am bland now, and unheard,
Unheard as the rain that falls,
Amongst the sheltered walls.
Wherefore art thou, my piano;
The sound that arriveth late,
But not late to be my memento—
To remove all conscious hate.
Wherefore art thou, my word;
Improvised but reckless, my Lord,
Ah! Calm but poisonous, like me,
A fastidious silver, like thee.
The land is soaked with blood
The sand is soaked with tears
Oh
How many barrels of blood must be spilled
to know that so many souls are gone?
How many basins of tears does it take
to have more than enough tears?
.
I am the voice of the little child
crying in the wilderness
I want to caress the flowers that spring
out of the ground of my homeland
I want to watch the ripples when rain falls
I want to play with my mates on the sand
along Chu Ngoke street
I want to sit at home and watch my parents returning from a bountiful yam harvest
I want to stand at the playground and watch the traditional wrestling
I want to hear the sounds of Egelege and Egoni talking drums reminding me of yesterday and a great future ahead
I want to chase away goats from eating the maize in my mother's garden
I want to open my mother's pot
and pick a meat out of the soup
I want to see my homeland
Sweet little home of ours
Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
I am the voice of a man
Whose hope lies in shackles
Whose homeland lies in broken images
A town deserted and forgotten
I am tired of being a stranger
in another man's land
I am tired of begging for crumbs
When my barn is filled with yam
Mudskippers can still be found in our swamps
Please take me back to Alode
I don't want to die in another man's land
I want to die in Alode, somewhere in Eleme
I want to be buried near the grave of my father and see my ancestors usher
me home with a shinning crown
Take me back home
Take me back home
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me see the beautiful women that
toss about the streets
Let me admire their buttocks
Let me stare at their breasts,
those two round objects protruding out
of their clothes, breasts that could make me feel like a child again
Let me kiss Nyime Owa Eleme, that beautiful lady of my dream
Let me lay her down on my bedside and
make life worthwhile
I want to go back home and see
the sunshine with it's illuminous rays
and the tender droplets of the rain
Oh Please take me back to Alode
Please take me back to Alode
.
Take me back to Alode
Let me touch your borders
From Alesa to Ogale
From Echieta to Onne and
From Ebubu to the Onu Nmu where they say the hands cannot reach
I want to touch the land of Alode
I want to touch the Eleme soil
I want to touch the soft green grasses of home
.......
Our God is bountiful because, His love is so very great. Giving to us everyday, many blessings both small and great. Everywhere we turn we can see, the bountiful God meeting our every need. From birth to death He is there, watching over each one of us. He loves us all so very much, Our God is bountiful because.......
Date Written: 11/13/2020
What Holds More Resplendent Gifts Of The Great And Vast Beyond
Seas of poetry orations, I once took my swims
being strong in spirit, stouter in heart and lithe of limbs
What dread had I of illness or passage of Father Time
when great beauty of verse sang so deep, dancing in its rhyme
Waves of its amber grains, its sandy beach, its great pleasures
stirred heart, pleading soul in immeasurable measures!
If tired, I cast myself upon lands flowing true and fair
seeing magnificence in Earth, Life, Nature- everywhere
Before dawn, before slumber flees this soul's poetry dreams
of paradise shores, poetic thoughts, soft cast golden beams
Winds of change and sublime words to describe and thus to match
castles of hope, beauty's grace and golden eggs- set to hatch!
Fearing not of, high flying fancies and heavenly flights
of lost romantic desires, cast adrift on stormy nights
Or that of abandoned ships left behind in gleaming seas
for poetry gifts its love and blessings of granted pleas
Bountiful harvests of word-seeds so pleasurably sown
are but summer days sending cool winds so gratefully blown!
What holds more resplendent gifts of the great and vast beyond
than poetry, its powers, which poets are so very fond
How its paintings, colors memories one sweetly recalls
of life, living and flames of hot-romance youth often falls
Beyond poetic seas of white-cropped waves and foaming foam
may this old poet's soul, in death, forever gaily roam!
Robert J. Lindley, 12-03-2018
Rhyme, (Inspired verse) (Poetry is Life and Treasure too)
Note- I dedicate this poem to my very good friend Susan Ashley and her wondrously inspiring new poem that inspired me to write this today.
Her new poem titled, The Red Leaf- set me to thinking of its beautiful poetry
and life. And how much poetry means to so many dedicated and in love with poetry poets!
I sat down and this flowed right on out, early this morn.
Note: Use in my poem of "white-cropped" = "white" for good, "cropped" for "appearing unexpectedly".
Thus translated- beyond poetic seas of = unexpectedly good waves and foaming foam.
Definition of “crop up” - English Dictionary
American
English
“crop up” in American English
See all translations
crop up
-pp-
— phrasal verb with crop US ? /kr?p/ verb [ T ] -pp-
?to happen or appear unexpectedly:
I am a Sanctified beautiful ebony woman
created from God made for man
Bountiful beautiful creation
molded from clay just the right way
I'm so honored to be part of the creative gift you say
I am sanctified beautiful ebony woman
For God doesn't make anything imperfect
Men say i'm beautiful and through the message
I must confess this
i am a beautiful nest
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
Bound for Glory For I am Holy and yes i passed God's test
sanctified beautiful brown eyes radiant bronze brown black and skin
with a mouth so open wide you can see the ocean
and in your faith you contemplate doing the natural thing but temptation
with sin nature
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
No fornication nor adultery will complete its mission for I am a woman of God being bronze black or brown having to turn it around for I can wait
Intercourse is good sometimes maybe great
but it's much better in marriage
As God has ordained and planned it
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
So man if you still think you want me
come join me first in a relationship with GOD
He' s my first groom and He only has room
To give me away to a Godly earthy man
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
Whether you're sinner or saved you can come
My bodies not yours until you do what right what God says
I am in it to win it
So I am hoping you're finished
Even Beyonce says " put a ring on it"
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
But I will not let my spirit fall to burn in hell
Just because my body says yes but the spirit says no
My heart says yes but the spirit says no
We may caress maybe even kiss but be careful mister the body's not yours
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
Be careful might trip and if you fall or if I fall it may be a long way down to hell
Quicker path to Hell's not only going to burn the body but your spirits so too
Not I am releasing this I am a witness the body is good this is true but I rather Have to be a sanctified whole woman who spiritually aroused in truth so my play
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
To any man out there today who
who thinks they want to court me come to God First
because I am married to the spiritual man
the Holy One the almighty creator I'm a bride of God
I am a sanctified beautiful ebony woman
June 6 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 78-82
Key Verse – Psalm 78:7 That they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY HOPE UPHOLDER
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
valuing my words of supplication
Thank You for vitalizing me with Your might to vanquish sin and temptation
Very powerful are Your commands for my commission…
Voluntarily, I submit to You, the Author of my salvation.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
vindicating my soul from hell’s devouring
Thank You for leading me with Your guidance along Your caring
Very loving is Your pardon that cleanses me with Your nurturing…
Vocally, I praise You, my Saviour of deliverance-bearing.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
validating my satisfaction in Your fullness
Thank You for pouring unto me Your blessings of goodness
Very bountiful are Your provisions for my wellness…
Visibly, I come to You, enjoying Your compassion’s greatness.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
verifying my motives against fleshly defilements
Thank You for forgiving me of my confessed sin-entanglements
Very strong is Your might that braces me against iniquity-engagements…
Victoriously, I cling to You as You enable my accomplishments.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
varying my challenges for my stirred-up trials
Thank You for fortifying me to overcome hardships of personal denials
Very timely are Your answers I can’t measure in several vials…
Vigilantly, I beseech You to empower me for my faith-portrayals.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
vouching my integrity by Your redemption-glow
Thank You for imparting to me Your wisdom along instructions I must follow
Very lawful is Your justice in defending me from deceits’ blow…
Valiantly, I serve You, my Almighty Sovereign from where my supplies flow.
Lord God, You are my hope Upholder,
visiting my heart for my pleasant testimony
Thank You for teaching me to walk along Your truth, whether sunny or rainy
Very assertive are Your counsels that brace me up despite troubles so many…
Vibrantly, I seek You, meditating Your Word, sweeter than honey.
June 6, 2023
Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing
Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.
Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch
survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.
Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating
mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.
Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness
upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.
Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook
ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business
swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook
cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.
Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged
top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige
vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere
heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.
I am promenading in the woods
Whistling at the birds
The rays of the sun
Now and again interrupting my vision
Then something moves
Something- like a woman
Her glamour- what say?
I halt- the power attending
How very smashing
She moves, actually peacocks
Towards me; closer, closer
Now I am all smiles
All smiles and tears
Her arms outstretched
Mine, too, outstretched
We are now drawing closer
we are moving
Like we were on the moon
With a spring, bouncing
Slowly towards an embrace
Eyes, ears, arms and smiles
The whole machine feeling for company
Full of nothing but joy
As the distance between us narrows
I hear small bells tolling
I hear small babies pattering
I hear the laughter of maidens
And as we lock our arms together
In a violent embrace
There in the woods
I see beautiful nymphs
All around our embrace
Holding their parasols high
Dancing to the reggae
In the tropical sun
All this I see, and more…
I notice that while locked we stood
With my bountiful beloved
A thousand maidens emerge
All in white and with roses
And yellow scarves
In each hand a bouquet
Of the best assortment of flowers
On their lips stands a song
Which I know to one
Composed by a great poet
To all that trade in marriage
I smile at my beloved
The queen of my soul
And as we walk in state
I see gold in her finger
And more on mine
I kiss her brow and lo!
The perfume!
The diamonds surrounding!
Then the doors of the cathedral
Open in front of us
At the pulpit- the bishop
His eyes raised above us
The Holy Book in place
And on either side
The attendants:
All practitioners of the faith!
We step inside the edifice
The congregation stands
And sings a welcome;
The train behind us
The bishops and attendants
The tolling of the bells
The bride and maids
And I the Prince.
All these I see, and more…
As we seal the pact
And vow to God
To be, now and always
Till death do us part
And set our hands
To ‘these presents’
I see twins at the brook
By our country home
Playing hide and seek
And mother and father
Standing hand in hand
Watching them, bemused
And I see a house
Happy and prosperous
Where dwell two pretty maidens
And three handsome lads
And the greatest promise
Sealed in the woods
Is kept.
And I wake up
To the ticking of the clock
After the hour of eight
And all the sorrows of bachelorhood
Come knocking at my door!