Long Insurmountable Poems

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Premium Member A Little Philosophy

Where does it lead, this path I follow?
I look back. So many twists and turns,
Such a long, way, some parts smooth as sand, 
others strewn with pebbles and rocks,
even seemingly insurmountable boulders.
Yet, here I am, the hurdles in every case
somehow in the past, somehow overcome.
The path ahead of me is much shorter,
and where it is going I cannot know.
It bends away from me, beyond my sight, 
each day a gift for which to be grateful,
as time is fleeting and who knows the length
of this phase of existence called life
or what is to become of us after that?
Surely there are no mansions in the sky 
to accommodate all of the souls passed on.
Does the soul go on into some existence, 
the nature of which we, as humans, are
completely incapable of comprehending?
Does the soul, at the instant of death,
pass into a baby just being conceived, 
thus living an endless round of human lives?
Or, as some think, is death simply the end.
That answer is untenable for me.
Exactly what is beyond, I do not know,
but I feel strongly that the soul does live on,
and, for some reason, it does matter
what kind of life we have led here on earth.


Jump Starting Jabez

when Jabez was born 
for his mom, it was a difficult birth
so she gave his a name which means
to make sorrowful here on earth
he was born in pain
but prayed to become an honorable man
he jump started his life
so with God's blessings he could righteously stand

just don't get it twisted
there will be some pain in life
be in circumstantial, opportunistic
or simply coming from strife
now in order to be honorable 
and live life authentically 
you can't let your pain define you
nor control your destiny

so will you fall prey to dysfunctional
habits and attitudes?
will you let your pain cause you 
to dismiss Jesus' Beatitudes?
or will you come to comprehend
that in the midst of your pain
God is at work
giving you the ability to sustain

as life isn't about happiness
its about spiritual transformation
its about letting God work in you
with a divine application
so jump start your life
and allow your pain to be made known
now able to redefine your trauma
and step out of hurtful zones

jump start your blessings 
by redirecting your pain
no longer holding onto hurt
now elevated to a higher plane
jump starting Jabez
by abolishing sorrow and stress
walking in the spirit 
now righteous and blessed

yes, life will be difficult
and yes there will be pain
just don't let it define you
nor give you insurmountable strain
jump starting Jabez
by allowing God to increase
its matters not what you've gone through
but the hurt you now release

Discernment bass Ensemble

Tristanism and Isoldetation
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Written By:Piegato Al Suo Volere
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Sculped by the happens I stood frozen
a statue on a pedestal
to which occurrences the creator speaks
each asseveration a new script to follow
Often he'd  cite others looking at her
or some smiling and gaining her attention
he di it so often until I just
started cheating on him she told a friend.
to which had been found untrue.
 She had meet him while
having a relationship a half hearted relationship
another guy she said it seems we meet those
who love  us most within days of each.
One relationship faded and another sprung up 
insurmountable trust issues open doors to
new loves she said.
              
  Oh than are we loved
  might the nights keep
  us lonely
  only to find love and
   be disappointed
   an ode to understanding
   that I might determine
   my unavoidible fortune

String of Evening: Bassoons  Night
percussive rhythmictation
all is right
Form: Ballad

Ars Poetica

Ars Poética (Life’s Ingénue)

I always wanted to die like a hero, but I was never helpful enough. 
So I switched to being a genius,
but my time ticked away with the infinite scroll. 
I developed a talent for acting and so you casted me
as your life’s ingénue. 
Now I’ll be remembered for my endless stream of verses about feeling unmoored. 
To live like a poet means to hide the insurmountable 
behind shades of gray, 
so behind every anaphora, assonance, and ballad 
there’s a little bit of you, the pièce de résistance. 
And did you know poets weren’t merely entertainers 
in the olden days?
If I were a man in Anglo-Saxon times, 
I wouldn’t be your royal buffoon. 
Instead of being a court jester, I would be tied to the oracle. 
So while i dream of dying like a martyr, 
my biggest concern shouldn’t be to amuse. 
Unlikely to think that you’d suffer upon my departure, my lover, 
my owner, my muse. 
And when I run out of illusory verses and come to my senses,
lover, you’re on your own…

This Thing, Love

Due to popular belief. I believe that certain things are due to happen naturally.
Like all other things it's bound to grow. This thing, love.
We are due to become obese to this organic, homegrown feeling.

The initial look that begins as taste. Naturally we are starved.

Aroused by the scent that lures us close. This thing, love.

One thing we must learn is self control. To not over indulge in the primary reason it exists.

To selfishly take because it's there. This thing, love.

Effort exudes as it becomes habit. Being placed at a table readily available for what portion comes next.

This need becomes confused with want.

To please others before our need in unselfish manner. A straight forward response to habit.

The rising availability of also being taken for granted. The insurmountable outline that defines lust.

Our intake becomes higher attempting to justify the difference. Thus we become lazy.

Reacting in ways we normally wouldn't. This thing, love.

This scent acts as incentive,  instantly attracted by which we over indulge.

Searching for this thing, love.

It's a reasonable thing. Knowing when to reach. When to pull. When to give and sacrifice.

Almost always all of these happen, learning self control, vocalizing when we've had our fill.

Else we will continue to eat until there is nothing left.
Grown obese. This thing, love


Premium Member Radicalizing Our Young

Radicalizing Our Young
Miracle Man
5/1/2024

The college protest problem,
isn’t insurmountable.
But a good first step to take,
is holding activist accountable.

They travel throughout the country,
Their aim, stirring up trouble.
Today it’s long past time,
someone bursting their bubble.

But we just slap their wrists,
and its back to business as usual.
We must show more force,
when dealing with the delusional.

Attitudes might change,
after a week spent in jail. 
Where there’s no choice of food
or opportunity for bail.

But they get on their soapbox,
and yell about public speech.
But destroying those unlike themselves,
is a sermon they shouldn’t preach.

Any students involved,
should immediately be expelled.
Or perhaps thought given,
to diplomas being withheld.

I pray that I see peace,
once more in my lifetime.
But I see the answer to this problem,
is in making the time fit the crime.

We can’t negotiate with those,
intent on radicalizing our young.
We must look to God for our strength,
until. the last verse of song is sung.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Before the Gates of Alahsar - Version - 2 - 27

The spearheads are keeping a tight formation,
pride keeping the body upright,
raking claws are sometimes raking home,
they find their way past sagging shields.
What deep wounds these claws do cause,
yet bloodied these spearheads do stand,
needle-sharp pain ne'er dulled by tiredness,
stand in honour, battle weary.
Still hold, you red of Alahsar,
Steadfast to your bloody duty,
humanity must live or die,
forever soldiers of the red.
stay cocooned in glories wonder,
you warriors of golden Alahsar.

Weary each one may have been,
yet still they stood as monoliths,
holding strong against insurmountable odds,
only pride keeping them upright.
They knew they had to stand, 
all depended on these moments,
their mission to move forward,
come what may, live or die.
How terrible the scene on Badicha,
dead and dying everywhere,
The stench of death attacks the nostrils,
the sickness wants to come.
Long remembered the screams of the living,
never forget the moans of those dying.

Oh, children of Alahsar,
never forget the horror,
keep your spearheads moving forward, 
pushing slowly on and on.
Against this wall of hatred, push,
slay the demons of the dark,
slay the enemies of the light,
death's dance before us is displayed.
Oh, Dark Man,
strike home with all your power,
strike with hatred Utamol,
sword of glory now covered black.
Lead your spearhead on beloved,
the glory of the mighty storm,
fight on for golden Alahsar,
beloved of Heaven's grace.

Chapter ..... 3 ..... Part ..... 2.

Now, let us look upon the main regiment of foot,
they fight on with the glory of the red,
fight on men of Alahsar,
staunch and brave stand before death.
Your banners are so proudly flying,
as they fly Alahsar does live,
proudly they fly in the breeze,
the men of Alahsar still stand.
They say that Alahsar still lives,
men still stand in battle line,
Warriors battle to the end,
honour to those who die and live.
Still the outcome is unknown,
for many men do bravely stand,
A final push may end this terror,
come on red, do battle on.
Form: Epic

Premium Member My Response To Rumi

"If you desire healing,
let yourself fall ill
let yourself fall ill."

Jalaluddin Rumi


Why, life is such, made of tricks and twisted ways
Life is such, made of sunny warmth and rainy days
Life is such
A blotch on our minds
A mystery
Waiting for the one to demystify it
A puzzle
Waiting for the one who would solve it!

However much ignorant am I of life and its ways
I can, though, fully ascertain
That life is meant not to be lived as if it were a ride
A ride down the river of sooth
A ride down there where love and peace thrives
Pray
Life is meant to be a torment
Life is meant to hassle us
Life is a disease and should we  
Want to be freed from its poisonous grip
Why, we should only follow its course
Indulge in it
Allow ourselves to be touched
To fall ill
To fall even more ill
So that, when faced with our insurmountable misery
Life shall itself open up
And allow us to be healed!
Yes,
Life shall itself open up its gates of wonder
And allow us to walk through them to the other worlds
Those worlds said to be made of eternal bliss!

Love, Peace & Tranquility

L is for Laughter, we share Lavishly.
O is for the fights that explode Occasionally
V is for the insurmountable Vastness of us.
E is love Eternity that is so much more than lust
+
+
+
+
P is for Pacifism, to settle without a fight.
E is Everlasting peace, wouldn't that be a sight.
A is for Amnesty, to forgive an opposing threat.
C is for our troops, waiting for this war to Cease.
E is for Everyone, I wish all world peace.
+
+
+
+
T is for the way she Tastes, and her Tantalizing ways.
R is for our late night Rendezvous after work each day.
A is our Attraction, Absolute for all our lives
N is for the Nifty way I asked her to be my wife.
Q is for her Quintessential fashion
U is for our Unadulterated passion
I is her deep blue, Indigo eyes
L is for her Loud teasing cries. 
I is not just I, but for both of us
T is for her undisputed Trust in me
Y is meant for her, my gorgeous Yuppie queen...


Jared Pickett
10/24/09
Asavvy1
Form: Acrostic

Just Say Cheerio Goodbye

Maybe the cocaine was the bridge over the insurmountable ridge, the remaining light in the mist that forever flickering uplift, which helped me escape the barren landscape and guided me from a deadened fate
As the eyeballs were rolling 
I saw rivals gloating 
realising their hopes 
to sink what floats 
my boat 
sailing the open overboard under and ghosting wet 
while they are dry and toasting vexed 
they grapple grip and motion strap 
out to strip away my showmen clap 
force their laughter lift their vitals, 
the core of my life in survival 
friends of mine I’d fight or die for 
ditching me for their own revival, 
pointing out how I’m imperfect, 
critically proclaim the verdict, 
predictably derailed the circuit, 
taking my place on the perches, 
always talking making sound 
always walking the same ground 
going nowhere nothing found 
always smiling upside frown
when I fall they better me 
when I’m tall they lesser me 
equal ground their messing me 
let ‘em go and let it be 
leave them and their misery 
always seeking victory 
nasty cruel and viciously 
when friends feel beat 
they must compete 
as they feel weak 
and strength they seek 
wont celebrate what you’ve achieved 
they sit they hate they feel aggrieved 
as they wholeheartedly believed 
you are someone down beneath 
but the twisted plot in the tale 
is you succeed and they just fail 
it cannot be and won’t prevail 
they’ll knock you down aiming for Hell 
because that’s what friends are all about 
don’t do the things come out their mouth 
their place is north looking down on south 
with their knowledge while you have doubt 
but now you’ve shown what you can do 
their only move is destroy you 
revealing colours oh so true 
not so pleasant from this view 
and now because they’ve caught your eye 
you can see they lie and lie 
persistently they try and try 
just say cheerio goodbye
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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