Long Enhances Poems
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Written: December 02, 2023
Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts
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“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”
I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.
Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.
I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.
When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.
There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.
Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.
Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!
A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
Love is an ocean never-ending
Drink from it
You will be delirious
When the fever of love engulfs
You will be frenzied
Coherently incoherent
At times
Love is an ocean , drink from it
It is not salty but
Luksweet
Half sweet like a peach
An apple an avocado
I think of you
When the sun peeps and yellow.ascends
I feel you your kindness and compassion
Your love your passion your tenderness
Your idiosyncrasies your temperament
Patterns your composite intricacies
I know
I think of you when the sun touches
The dews on the sleeping leaves
Photosynthesis for my soul
You
Drink from it
You will be ecstatic euphoric
Elated I promise
Love is an ocean
Love is a synonym for god
It is every where omnipresent
It is in the air
I feel it
I am in the inferno
Love is rain
Colorless odourless tasteless
It is a catalyst
Neither looses nor gain but enhances
It is given
Most complain some understands
A few enjoy
That is their
destiny.
I think of you when the sun it at its peak
When every pour in my skin secrete
The aroma of your innocence
I breathe
You swirl around like a funnel cloud
Sucking into its lure your exquisite
Touch I am at peace
Love blossoms in the winter too
Breaks the thread of your silent t beads
Love is not a mirage
Opens the locks of your camouflaged
longings
Love is cool love is blue
Yellow green pink violet purple
Love is red like blood
Excuse me but lady you needs glasses.
And so does mrs justice over there
Both you broads are blind as bats
Stumbling through the system
Justice bumped into bulbous and
Tripping on republic of plato
But stepped right over a
Killed little black ant
,I am moving to a new abode
Abode, ? what is that”
It is to dwell reside
In a particular condition attitude
Relationships frequencies
To endure to sustain in a different
Realm of infinite possibilities
“ I don’t understand
“ No comprendo,por favour
Habla des pacio,please
Speak slowly
Her eyes were brimming with
Blue tears about to fall
Down
Form:
DANCE, DANCE, DANCE
What’s that?... You have two left feet.
We heard that many times.
Why just sit there and watch?
How can we change your mind?
Of course, nobody has two left feet.
What is so hard in moving your feet?
Left, right, left, right for the men,
right, left, right, left for the women.
Come on, it just like marching.
You should be dancing, yes!
If you have not done so, start now.
Dancing is the best exercise, it’s fun.
It involves body and mind.
Dancing moves your body.
It challenges your mind to learn
movements, steps or patterns.
It also encourages you to socialize
for it connects you to others.
Dancing makes you sweat
and helps you reduce weight
for it’s similar to cardio exercise;
but a more subtle form of exercise.
Dancing is gentle to your body,
yet, it enhances your motor fitness or mobility,
improves your balance, increases your flexibility
and you develop agility.
Dancing promotes stronger bones,
tones and strengthens your muscles,
aids your blood flow and circulation,
raises your endurance.
Dancing is good for your coordination,
your lungs, your heart, your emotion.
It gives you vibrancy and energy
as well as a better memory.
Dancing increases your cognitive performance
for you gain mental alertness.
It uplifts you and inspires you
to develop friendships.
Wouldn’t you rather be having fun dancing
than put your body through a rigorous exercise?
You attain the same physical benefits;
you also acquire cognitive benefits.
You should be dancing, dancing, yeah…
for it’s easier on your body and better for your mind.
11/1/20 Hm's And Na's October 2020 Constance La France
Impress Me With An Old Poem (002) Judged 10/16/20 Received: NA
There were seven Indian Government schools. All built alike. The
one I'm writing about is Spring Creek. He Dog, Soldier Creek and White River,
Grass Mountain, Two Kettle, and Black Pipe were the other schools. The
Headquarters for these schools was at Rosebud, South Dakota.
On some summer evenings we were able to talk our mothers into
hiking to the lookout tower. We followed the ankle deep sandy trail road to the
cliff north of the school., A canyon lay at the foot of the tower but we climbed the
bluff. I don't know why we didn't explore the canyon unless it seemed dark and
sinister. The footing was better once we reached the summit. The closer we got
to the tower the taller it grew and standing at the foot of the steps looking up was
easier than getting to the top and looking down. My mother didn't usually make it
to the top because she didn't like heights. But she didn't mind being left behind
this time. We never could get into the building at the top because it was locked,
but we could climb the steps to the very last one. Even my little sister managed
to elude mom and followed us to the top.
From the bluff we could look down on the garden. My aunt grew a
huge garden and canned the produce for the hot meals served the school
children. We kids didn't work in the garden very often, but we looked for the arrow
heads and fossils. Which, I suspect the adults probably considered the best
place for us.
At the end of the road, living in shack, was Old Lady Grease. I have a
vague recollection of seeing her. Tiny, frail, wrinkled and gray headed is all I can
remember.
In spring and fall we were in school in Kansas.
It's Christmas now. Cold and usually snowy. We were in a winter
wonder land.
I'm standing at the fire escape window. The ghostly pale full moon is
illuminating the naked arms of the trees as they shiver in the wind, swaying to
and fro as if dancers in a ballet. I listen to the winter sounds. The frigid air
enhances their sharpness. The ax's thud echoes up the canyon as one of the
Indians across the river chops another supply of wood. One of his peers beats
on the drum. It is one-thirty a. m. but the thin walls of the tents do not keep the
cold out. Day or night this chore must be attended to for survival.
I left California a week ago Sunday.
Alone with my map, I found the way.
Initial trepidation gave way to wonder.
Beauty of the land enhances the spell I'm under.
From Novato to Tahoe, the drive was slow.
Allowing the remembrance of freeway driving to grow.
Expecting Nevada to be a long, boring drive.
The high desert vistas permitted my juices to thrive.
The interplay of clear blue sky and the light
Creating wondrous hues and vistas of pure delight.
Drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds,
A wide-mouth frog carved in the mountainside winked at me.
A ribbon of highway stretched across the Salt Flats.
Looking more like the desert I expected awhile back.
The Great Salt Lake out of nowhere appears
Glistening in the sun like a clear, shiny mirror.
Turning south in Salt Lake City, a planned detour
The Utah rock stars I wanted to explore.
The landscape changed as ever higher I climbed.
Mesas in the distance of color sublime.
Zion and Bryce Canyons... magnificent to behold
Paled in significance as Route 12's glories unfold.
Each bend and curve created a new scene.
From pure, sheer red rock to pine mountains of green.
Land of the Anasazi, the Ancient Ones.
Lived in Boulder, Utah; an oasis in the sun.
The Escalante Grand Staircase is dedicated to them.
Feeling their energy as I traveled the rim.
Torrey to Moab and Arches Monument Park
The formations of red rocks truly touched my heart.
Guardians, gatekeepers, animals, angels and more
Chiseled in stone that was once the ocean floor.
Petrified sand dunes spread before my eyes.
A white rolling desert of rock under clear blue skies.
Opening again to wondrous chiseled formations.
Natural arches and windows of the mountain nations.
Treated myself to lunch in the “Eklektica Cafe”
Met a young man there who made my day.
He gave me the perfect response to "Why Boulder?”
Tell them, he said, “I'll let you know when it's over.”
Touring now behind me. I'm ready to roll
Heading full-steam to Colorado; pine and aspen to behold.
As I cross the border, I am greeted by a sign.
“Welcome to Colorful Colorado. The Trail Through Time.”
I have come full circle somehow I knew
Driving along, I remembered each view.
While there is no ocean; rivers and lakes abound.
It feels very much like I'm homeward bound.
"Thoughts of a Sexual Nature"
Vivid thoughts of you,
in your birthday suit.
Sprawled on my living room floor,
anxiously you wait
for what you came here for.
Long toned legs,
a rippled mid-section.
I want to hear you beg,
you caused this ********.
Incense burn!!
Sex on the Beach
heightens the mood.
I allude,
to a massage.
A mental mirage,
a dream.
Vivid thoughts accrue,
as I knead your birthday suit.
skin like a rare passion fruit,
and I'm working for your nectar.
You're my aperitif,
and I have a sweet tooth
for your vermouth.
_________________________________________________________
Strumming your neck,
my tongue is the pick.
Hearing you moan lightly, "Oh your so thick."
So eager was the lass,
for me to.... hose down her fire.
You see, the blaze I intensified.
I knew her desires.
Slow down I pleaded,
hasten your pace!
We have all night baby,
and first base is my face.
I had overdosed on her Vermouth.
She poured without a care!
Enveloped in lusts rapture,
it was, to soon to conclude.
Ambiance is important, so I'll set the mood.
Red lights, mirrored headboard
& playing softly in the background,
a love songs
interlude!!!
_________________________________________________________
Soft moist lips lick you're ear
whispering words of delight
pursuing my plight for your might,
my tongue rolls down your neck
peck on peck,
as my goal unfolds
kissing chest nipples
your dimples of gold
tanned bronze like a god,
excitement,
ecstasy
extension to explode,
the ride enhances as liftoff begins
tastier than sins,
searing flesh on flesh emotions
enmesh juices of love in thrombosis,
in oceanic osmosis,
as we fall...
spent ...
content ...
in orgasmic opulence.....
"This is a collaboration written by three different poets... Starting with Me...
Samuel Brooks has the middle section, and Linda Marie Bariana concludes...
This turned out well and I am sure all of you will agree..
Jared Pickett---Asavvy1
Samuel Brooks----ChocolateWoW-------------------------1/27/2010
Linda Marie Bariana------Sweetheart
February 5 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Leviticus 16-18
Key Verse– Leviticus 17:5 To the end that the children of Israel may bring their sacrifices, which they offer in the open field, even that they may bring them unto the LORD…
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY OFFERINGS’ BLESSER
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You accept me before Your mercy seat
Thank You for forgiving my sins that cause my spiritual defeat
As I repent from vain pursuits of futile treat…
Help me present my life before You, and receive Your divine revival heat.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You smell my prayer’s sweet incense
Thank You for reproving my bad testimony that disregards Your presence
As I repent from remaining in evil influence-essence…
Help me saturate my soul in Your holiness-effervescence.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You cleanse me fully
Thank You for dealing with my confessed iniquities I admit honestly
As I repent from wandering in the wilderness of selfishness vainly…
Help me put on my service-garments of Your righteousness daily.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You speak unto me Your commandment
Thank You for sanctifying my heart from worldly defilement
As I repent from sojourning in discontentment…
Help me bring my desires into Your favour toward my fulfillment.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You approve me by Your compassion-filled sacrifice
Thank You for checking my thoughts of imagination’s device
As I repent from not meditating Your truth of great price…
Help me submit my mind to Your guiding advice.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You instruct me to walk in Your ordinances
Thank You for rebuking my proud performances
As I repent from compromising with humanistic glances…
Help me value my inheritance that Your wisdom enhances.
Lord God, You are the Blesser of my offerings
While You guard me against confusion
Thank You for leading me to Your will for my sincere devotion
As I repent from committing displeasing action and reaction…
Help me keep my faith to do my part in Your great commission.
February 5, 2023
Looking through frosted glass of windows' sorrowed pain I who
Reflects upon the frozen condensation in the shelter of my mind
Delight that there are crystals on the panel which refract the joy
On the grace bestowed upon me by hindsight observation glare
I do not always have to see what takes place behind the screen of
Time and reason well beyond my grasp and am contained within
The wind brushes against the frame outside and yet holds firm
Its paint has flaked but still reveals the layers of abundant paint
Where coats of varnish cover ageing primers glossing over fissures
Hinges are in need of rust converter and some lubricant although
A bit of grinding jambs on closure reminds me that I hear the sound
That reaches feelings and emotions when my moods begin to jar
I marvel at the crack that gives a certain kind of resilient contours
Which shaped my seasoned soul and tested skills and renovation
So far eluded the need for triple glazing double vision and repair
A spider though renewed its work and spun a web from musky curtains
To shutters up and down and weaved a fragile net quite unperturbed
Flies have lost their battle and I am grateful that I have not been caught
There was temptation to wipe the slate and surface clean and polish
Instead I take crayons out of the box and scribble on adjoining walls
I watch the canvass unfold and listen to the sound of scripted passion
Very soon what is called graffiti or artistic pleasure gives an easy glimpse
Into my heart soul and innermost desires careful not to hold my breath
Keeps some distance though because my exhalation could disturb the scene
Dusk settles quickly and I pull up my socks and wrap up in a knitted blanket
Put another log on the fire to kindle warmth and thoughts among the cold
The candle on the mantlepiece flickers kindly and grants a soft glow evermore
Looking through a frosted glass enhances rather than obscures all of my senses
Gives me the precious freedom to decide which side I'm on when evening falls
Now I can smell the crispy touch and taste of verglas and look out for silence
31st March 2020
Often after the fallen snow is swept, glory
Is found when the treading surface is clear.
A light dusting is a breeze to remove. For heavy slush I trade
My broom for a shovel. It is foolhardy to pretend
That things with bristles can glide
Between and expand the substrate/snow interface.
Between the air and my skin there is no interface
Even my coon skin cap only provides small glory
Reminding me that menthol shaving cream enhances the glide
Of my razor and the sting of the cold air, but also makes clear
My ambition to clear the snow away and not pretend
To scatter dandruff from the icy landscape. It seems I must trade
My alter ego of a cosmetologist for that of a cosmologist. Such a trade
Will enable me to outgrow this climate. Then my interface
Communication skills will improve so I won’t use silence to pretend
I am a solid, deep thinking woodsman and I can just enjoy the glory
Of making small talk about the weather, thus allowing me to clear
My conscience about past regrets and glide
Through interpersonal interactions moment by moment. Ah! To glide
Like snow from the blade of a shovel, I wouldn’t trade
That social grace for 10,000 driveways clear
Of snow or ice or volcanic ash. Interface--
That common boundary, the transition from disgrace to glory
As I become a cosmologist and no longer pretend
That people are stupid zoo animals and hopefully not pretend
That I am a stupid zoo animal. Seasons of the year glide
Together and glide apart. Midwinter ice in all its glory
Is dangerous and fun. Will you trade
Your cramp-ons for ice skates? The seasonal interface
From spring to summer is never clear.
The same is true for the other seasons, let’s be clear
About that. I have stressed this before and will again; to pretend
Is to deny. Everything solitary has an interface
With something else and therefore is not solitary. To glide
Is to not experience friction. At some point you may want to trade
Slip for grip. Never bask in glory
Unearned. The web interface has clear
Flaws, don’t be ignorant. Glory may never pretend
To glide toward despair, but neither of those would I be willing to trade.
My opinions are changed,
My heart lacks fervour,
For you lunched the war,
Purposeless,
To liberate who are already free,
To enrich who are already rich,
To make the fierce, more ferocious.
When will the time intrude you,
Make you see the brilliant aspect of the affair,
And humanity will sing the song of peace?
When will you peep into your inner-self
To see the reflected image of you own?
When will you obey the divine commands
And make out them that God forbids pollution
Smog and fumes of turmoil wrapping His fair Earth?
Now open your eyes
The shores are red;
The lands are coated with blood,
The skulls are scattered like stones,
For the sake of oil or the reserves of gold,
Be aware a single drop of human blood
Possesses more worth than all treasures
That the earth contains.
Now stop killing; enough, enough,
You neither surrender, nor do deprive others
Of the rights which the divine commands allow,
Go through the lanes with moderate bearing.
Live like a benefactor among the nations,
Share with them your victuals,
Stock of knowledge and skills,
And snatch them not of their own.
Return fathers to the orphans,
Husbands to the widows,
Brothers to the waiting damsels,
And sons to the aged mothers,
If not then compensate them all,
For the broken hearts, shattered dreams.
Hatred against you thrives,
Magma against you grows,
Let the volcano sleep,
Beneath the layers deep,
And only once apply,
The strategy of the weapon of love
Discarding the old devices of uranium.
The amount you spent on the arsenal
Would have been enough to feed the world
Though ten times bigger;
If you had ruled the hearts,
The world might have been a different place
Of love, peace and harmony.
Through force your aims will never be gained,
So amend the ways and stroll on the route
That enhances you in respect and esteem;
Review and revise the modes of actions,
Follow not the path that leads the world
To the chaos, and on the point of no return,
For there will be a dark dungeon of curse,
O! America, for the sake of humanity reverse.