Long Conceivably Poems
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The fabric to the maker’s touch The wine flowing to the vintner The paint leaving the artist’s brush Silently falling snow to the winter It is the unfurling blossom that blooms An individual drop to a rushing cascade It is no longer a worm emerging from cocoon The unveiling of a mask at a masquerade First steps that are joyously amplified The cold instrument now playing hot The mean that is wholly justified As touching nothing conceivably not for there is masterpiece within the rock
STRIKE! "STRUCK" A COVER IS BLOWN...
GAME UP!~
WHAT'S UP???
MY AWARENESS... MY ENLIGHTENING...
BEING IN THE DARK IS FRIGHTENING, WOULDN'T YOU SAY, "I'LL SAY!" WHEN IN THE COMPANY OF MASKED PRETENDERS, WHO INITIALLY EXPRESS, TO IMPRESS...
OH SO TENDER AND WARM,
(A CALM BEFORE THE STORM) LURKING, LURING, BELIEVING THEY ARE SECURING, "WHO YOU ARE"
YES, A COMPLETE READ....
"MUST BE ALL IN THE STARS" AND NEXT,
GRADUALLY, STEADILY...*REAL INTENT*
PRESENTS: HERE'S THE HIDDEN GEM OF THE DAY, DID YOU CATCH THAT, "QUICK!" SUDDEN "HIT" THAT MAY HAVE OTHERWISE BEEN MISSED FROM...
BLOATED CONVEY!
NOT TODAY...
IT'S WAS NOTICED, (NOTED)
YOU SEE, HIDDEN GEMS ARE ALL AROUND US, PAY ATTENTION, LISTEN AND LISTEN CLOSELY..."THE BEAUTY OF SILENCE" IT'S DUTY TO SHINE, DIVINE BRILLIANTLY AND RECEIVINGLY, MOST IMPORTANTLY CONCEIVABLY...NO MATTER HOW MUCH ILL PREPARED OF INITIAL AUDACITY, VERY LITTLE IT WAS KNOWN...OF ANOTHER'S "BLESSED CAPACITY" TO SEE THE FLAWS...
WHAT A SHAME IT REMAINS HIDDEN TO "THEM" BUT NEVER TO ME, YOU SEE!
I SO APPRECIATE "A VALUE RECEIVED" IN PRICELESS CLARITY...
A DIAMOND DROPPED, LOOK AT ALL THE FACETS, IT'S ALSO BEEN "WORN"...
"SO OBLITERATINGLY WORN"
BUT...
JUST NOT FOR ME,
IT'S NOW A TRANSFERRED *NEW*
RADIANT RED RUBY!~ SUCH DEPTH IN HUE! "IT'S FLAWLESS!!!"
THIS ARRIVAL WAS MEANT FOR ME TO HAVE...
THIS "SPECIAL DELIVERY" read fine print, NEATLY PACKAGED, WRAPPED IN CELLOPHANE.
AS LIFE UNFOLDS...
I'VE ADDED IT TO MY CROWN OF GOLD!
EMERALDS, PEARLS, OPALS...
AND A SLOT FOR BLOOD RED RUBIES!
"PERCEPTIVELY, IT'S A WEIGHTED MEASURE...
SPIRITUALLY, IT'S LIGHT AS A FEATHER!~"
"WHAT A TREASURE TROVE" {UNHIDDEN}
RED CLAY ROCKS...FORBIDDEN.
Renee D. Gross {GHPPR} May 20, 2023#
THE NUTCRACKER…SWEET
In my 69 years I had never seen the Nutcracker Suite…never experienced the ballet….never heard Tchaikovsky’s entire score…that is…until yesterday.
As I sat captivated by the music…by the dancing and the fact there were no words to any song…I had to wonder to myself…what in heaven’s name has taken me so long!
I watched the performance mesmerized…thanking the Gods for creating people who can move in such a delicately beautiful way…while at the same time thanking whatever person or persons created the ballet.
As the music thundered through the air and the dancers floated off the floor…I was hit by the realization…this is what our bodies were created for.
Our legs were made strong yet elegant allowing us to leap up to the sky…our arms were created to be as graceful as wings making it appear that we can fly.
When the Gods created us non-dancers…they left not one part up to chance…our ears were created to hear the music…our eyes to enjoy the dance.
As I watched the arabesques…the pirouettes…the magic happening on the floor…I thought how our mouths were meant to stay closed more often…so our eyes can see and our ears can listen…perhaps a little more.
Which also made me wonder with our eyes closed…our eyes and ears open to the beauty on display…is it possible to hate at all…while attending the ballet.
Perhaps the Gods were subtly trying to tell us…conceivably…perchance
the solution to some of life’s problems…can be found within the dance.
Perhaps that’s why these dancers were created to be so nimble…
so graceful on their feet….
To simply remind us there is beauty and love in the world…
as and to make the Nutcracker sweet.
For Didds
Four tankards found at the foot of the hill
Bet someone got w*nkered, and now they feel ill
Bet it went down so easy that no one resisted
And now they’ve forgotten the tankards existed
But down at the pub there are rumours of scandals
Of boisterousness, and the theft of four candles
And a gap on the shelf where the tankards once sat
And out on the roof someone’s comedy hat
Maybe barred from the pub and a walk out of town?
With enough beer in tow to conceivably drown
As they woke up the town with their loud shouty glee
And blessed all the hedges with vomit and pee
“Here’s bashin’ yer metal” and “Cheers, me old china”
Drinking alfresco, well, what could be finer
Well, ale, I suppose, for it goes down a treat
Not that one cares when one’s drunk on the street
The next day the tankards just sat by the road
All hopeful and waiting, but nobody showed
Until round the corner a giant appeared
Wearing a rugby shirt, smile and beard
“I’ll tell you what, lads, all back to mine”
Four trusting tankards all followed in line
Expressing their heartfelt and infinite thanks
With tinkles, and clatters, and resonant clanks
There followed a search, and some transient glory
And some vain attempt to uncover their story
So brightly they shone in their moment of fame
Then they just disappeared, in the way that they came
‘Tis said, down in Rowde, that the veil is thin
That mischievous fairies throw stuff in the bin
That strange things do happen, when folk have been drinking
All myth mixed with moonshine and magical thinking
Whatever, wherever, they’re not coming back
So; whose were the tankards, and what was the crack?
by Gail
Composing harp melodies as a musical score,
Sounds that seem to have been frozen in time,
In reverse metamorphosis, crystals melt more,
Snoring in lattice husks, a willow moth sublime.
Sounds that seem to have been frozen in time,
In a dismal dungeon, dragonflies utterly scatter,
Snoring in lattice husks, a willow moth sublime,
Blood-storm charms fall in a tungsten disaster.
In a dismal dungeon, dragonflies utterly scatter,
If these models don't assist you to sleep tonight,
Blood-storm charms fall in a tungsten disaster,
Or educate the demons who entice your insight.
If these models don't assist you to sleep tonight,
Conceivably that our ambitions will deceive,
Or educate the demons who entice your insight,
Maybe you'll opine everything is crystal naive.
Conceivably that our ambitions will deceive,
Warm lime hues permeated the air with honesty,
Maybe you'll opine everything is crystal naive,
You'll notice how I've stated times of ambiguity.
Warm lime hues permeated the air with honesty,
with timeless topaz and a ticking sapphire burst,
You'll notice how I've stated times of ambiguity,
For the time being, I'd yearn to exhibit my worst.
With timeless topaz and a ticking sapphire burst,
In reverse metamorphosis, crystals melt more,
For the time being, I'd yearn to exhibit my worst,
Composing harp melodies as a musical score.
Written: January 14, 2023
How utterly intriguing is the kernel of light?
Worn stars and signs of ebbing orbs seal the site.
A mystery lurks in the chasm of celestial hope.
and a baffling charm that belies its sheer scope.
Shining in the serenity of the fragrant night.
Emerald on the leaves in the morning dew
And the silence welcomed the cool sunlight.
Once the sky is hysterical, the trees are too.
I instantly glimpsed your celestial threshold.
The edge is no longer struck by the slant hold.
My caring soars at the peak of my anxiety.
Toward the aloofness of the soul's satiety
The line between vitality and virulence is blurred.
Euphoria leads to a rising sense of enthusiasm.
When two systems collide, my life is slurred.
You and I quickly climb out of the chasm.
My tract is in respite and away from prying eyes.
a place where ideas are born and emotions rise.
A place that nobody can conceivably reach.
a remote dwelling that is impossible to breach.
It is a safe haven for all my deepest feelings.
It shields me from the dangers of dealings.
It makes no sense to anyone but me.
It is the spot where I can feel truly happy.
I value the time I spent on this divine barge.
in which all is feasible and I am in charge.
The realm I'm depicting is just what it seems.
It's a gorgeous area that I refer to as "dreams."
Written: March 19, 2023
Today is a new spring’s first day
Today is the birth of a new season
Today is another blessed birthday
Today is a special and memorable Sunday
Indeed, it’s a novel or a new creation
The sky is adorned, decorated with white and blue
And the same colors mirrored in the dormant ocean
The sun is charmingly shining. What a pristine view
To notice, observe and admire in the firmament anew
Oh! Very far a few constellations gleefully welcome the season
Where countless trees bloom with baby buds and colorful
Petals and sepals. Spring arrives timely; it’s wonderful
To contemplate the returns of myriads of exotic birds
That are chirping and singing songs of hope and joy
Oh! It’s fabulous to be part of such a décor and decoy
To act as young lovers in a pool of never seen colored muds
Oh! Today is the birth of a new and lustrous season
Oh! Indeed, today is the anniversary of a new person
As the adage goes, as we get older, we get more mature
We get better every day like timeless and marvelous Mother Nature
Like the forgotten wine barrels in the rustic and idyllic cellar
The new spring will conceivably bring highlights and wishes of happiness
Improved health, love, peace, laughter and more smiles of kindness.
Copyright@ March 2022, Hébert Logerie, All Right Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
I will leave this world kicking –
(the Reaper would have it easier elsewhere);
I will not leave without sticking~like glue,
to the places I love and to those for whom
I care – believing that only a life poorly lived
would just let go, give-up without a fight – counting
all the sweaty brows it took as I earned every
hard-fought, eked-out share.
But if, perhaps, to make room for someone brighter?
I could conceivably be persuaded to hold-on less
tighter – though a bit of arm wrestling would yet respectively
be required, when from this world, I served, without fame,
I am summarily fired –
Oh, I have known, like many of my fine sisters and brothers, the tragedies
of wars and untrue lovers; blood both at my feet and seeming above~fiery,
red skies as if Heaven turned angrily from its man, for not following
their God's Perfect Plan – though longing for reunion with my dear
ones departed, with whom this life I had blessedly started, and others with whom I have
shared victories and failures, joys though sometimes left brokenhearted...still, I
will leave this world feistily kicking! The Grim Reaper to know, despite how
much my pain and suffering, the size of my enemy, or the greater
their numbers, I was never some Easy-picking!
Earthen songs! from handsome angel throngs, opsoletus
Intervals and spells of the scope of temporal rondure,
A surging of the populus in singulari confluentia
So the book does diagram guthan, guð, and god,
Khute gaia, of poured earth, where legend sleeps
The burial dunes of Zeus, Aether, Erebus, and Chaos
Seasons advance with a tempering of wind’s instruments,
Sweltering bloom to hyperborean calm of frozen seed
Daughters and sons! from cildhama, fruit of the womb
Roaming deeds, of sin and samaritan, per omne spatium
Space of continental breadth or old borough border rings
Century to century in continuo, each end to seamless end
non vigilemus et dormimus in aeternum, of briefest history,
We do not speak of ages dissolved in lights of admiration
Stygian time cannot lie, and there will be other Dark Ages
We now originate and architect machines from the earth
Greater eyes and senses than what natura dedit nobis
What have we committed that we can conceivably survive?
nihil est quod in dulcedinem originis non evanescatin,
There is nothing that does not fade into the sweetness of its origin.
I SPOT a lofty black cross
Standing conceitedly on a rock-strewn mount,
Where nothing akin to a tree can be seen,
Murky clouds hovering over it,
It is on this cross that she will
Sacrifice me for the sake of love
I OBSERVE dry as a bone grass,
That left chasing precious emerald existence
Because the master of life-rain
Could not depart the lucrative comfort of cloud nine
To reprieve underprivileged earthlings;
As the sunburned grass sever to shreds,
I perceive her love for me fading
Radically till nothing of it remains,
She tramples upon me unfeelingly
WHEN I raise my eyes to meet up hers,
Tears COURSE down my cheerless cheeks,
In her face I discern weariness, withdrawal.
She appears dull and outrageously sorrowful-
Conceivably I am a great irk to her,
She cannot let me feel her lips once more.
NOW alone I contemplate smoke rising,
I bathe myself in the glee of solitude,
Shrewd that hours of night must go a way
Paving way for hours of dawn that must also go a way;
That the putrid soul of mine
Possibly will one day be rapt and inspired
Though she has departed from me