Long Instants Poems

Swept up into piles; everywhere 
Abouts; in collected heaps all 
Around.               
It is almost as if the drab 
Streets were strewn...

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It's styles of a nameless brand pristine day
an exclusive star-sheathed shadow after 
overwhelming luminous glare fainted
a somewhat true-to-life footpath in
a back of structured quaintness

Encountering myself at a passionate spring
oozing its life gliding o'er its rocky...

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The weeds have sheathed the garden from its care as more nails than wood appear of a house lacking adjectives. A sun liberated from scathing entrapment amongst an overburdened forest whose boughs are heavily laden...

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I had a long argument today...
Whilst sitting by the 
surcharging charging airport port,
shouldertoshoulder with this pastor.

Delayed flight and low juice
kept us there, squared off;
shoulder to shoulder.

He with his Righteousness,
me with my Right View.
He with all...

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into the depths of the bell jar

In quiet solitude
    on an autumn night
    i drifted through
    a quotidian quagmire.

fleeting thoughts of stillness
    sparked...

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There once was an Instant named Now
who wanted to stop Time.
He was tired of having Seconds, Minutes, and Hours pass him by.

In a world of endless Instants,
a new one always arriving. 
He grew tired and...

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doesn't matter if we sing along;
                      or read a poem we are all God's...

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the    m  u  s  i  c    took   CONTROL
our heartbeats replaced by   B   A   S   S
breathing...

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That was a great moment
When my house was filled fully
With relatives, friends and new guests around.

Dad keeping busy, mom arranging,
Friends amusing, cousins entertaining,
I was immersed  within relishable tension.

Relaxing myself and taking a deep breath,
I...

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*Image of January 14, 2023, by WinCal.

An Existential Curiosity

~0~

Ambitious existent presence to yield,
Hostage that's well endured of a pre-life,
Handcuffed fallible praying to be healed,
Labyrinth attributes drudgery strife.

Redeeming shrilling lob gratis to air,
Longings bounded dreamt outpours...

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(following on figurative heals 
   sans, l'amour, 
i.e.,and that bastard conception 
   of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant 
   ting, and Bing Frank.)

Expectant motherhood...

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in the language of personal amplification
you'd think it was all a scam
to make you drop your guard
and play patty cakes with Evil
job 3 was to rearrange your molecules
into an actual you
capable of withstanding
the outcomes you...

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The blue hour takes root ...

There is the dark wing of the steamer,
Which takes the open sea, and carries away its regrets,
Tiny passengers, waving handkerchiefs
And the seagulls passing and passing again.
Heavy rusty chains, in heaps...

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*"A tribute to "Pops" (Joe), (04/23/31-01/20/24) though what pans below mirrored life in the States for me, not Pops, but for two years at The Home before he passed, I'd drank tea cause he's unable...

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*Image of Blues by Google.com.

Blue In Centerstage
Fondly, instants our measure of blue ... a boost or flat bring on,
Promptly, sea and sky are limelight ... point of view as quite concise,
Nonchalantly, unconcern and clamminess ......

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After the Occupational Therapist told me I’d never walk again (see my poem “What She Said”); I was in shock, but my being turned to my ballet days to recall when my legs were strong...

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expectant motherhood 
   doth generate aurorean
glowing halo, inducing 
   jubilant kickstarter lil bean, 

administering capitalone 
   earthlinked joyful lyft, 
   natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrow, venerated x2c gleam
zinging...

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Analogue Dialogue

When one experiences the Past looking forward
          And views the Future through a long-gone lens
          ...

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*Image of Education by UY.

A Cog in The Machine

Life advances their kind of entrusting stays,
origin of roots possessing foundation,
flung to care sprouts variable promises,
~~executes each seed.

The great void advents the id of emptiness;
launched needs, yet...

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We, 
with the geometry and evening 
balance of our midcentury hands—gently 
lower the cloche over the day between us. It is a 
nightly ritual, gravity-driven, habit built over time, the glass 
encasement marred by scars,...

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Sun-soaked
spectral topography
sculpts with lattice 
of longing
                luminescent, 
the veering valley 
of my lucent life
undulating briskly
in plains of passion
with the cadence...

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Disarrayed sands
dislodged from timeless domain,
dropped by chaotic instants,
settle ceaseless,
                   bemused
on stratified shelf 
of languid life,
  ...

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When the opaque nights were starless, 
and the depressing days desolately cloudy,
the journey through the tortuous valley of life 
wasn’t easy as it was meant to be.

When the wilted flowers turned pallid, 
and the defoliated...

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"Can you feel the soul of an abandoned house;
        can you hear the whispering? " 
            ...

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