Long Richly Poems
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I am in all a moderate man, a noted country gentleman'
with all the accoutrements, a house, a farm and gout.
My politics are not extreme, I'm reasonably devout.
I have my peccadillos but they barely warrant mention.
To hide my light beneath a bushel I've never felt an urge.
In one particular virtue I feel a measure of pride.
Judge after I have put my case if I'm not justified.
Temperance is my virtue. I draw back from the verge.
Excess I shun as ‘twere the pox. Revels I'll have none,
for eating much and drinking much are folly's requisite.
At the vicarage and the manor I am noted for my wit.
No local scandals I invite. London's there for fun.
Here on my farm, my little world, there reigns a blissful peace.
Bumpkins and commoners alike still hail me as the Squire.
Come end of day, I'll sip my port, roast chestnuts by the fire.
Was that the braying of an ass or the cackle of my geese?
When Walpole steered the ship of state how happily we plied!
No foreign broils or riotous mobs then then sapped the nation's wealth.
Complacent Whigs and good King George sustained our common heath,
but now dark clouds have gathered and adverse is the tide.
I thank my Maker day by day for being richly blessed,
yet feel no little pang and twinge when I think upon the poor.
Much more could be done for them, of that I am quite sure.
To help me get to sleep at night a jug of stout is best.
In days done by I did aspire to turn men's hearts to good.
So great the world and I so small, unequal to the task.
Should risking all have aught effect? respectfully I ask
and thereby serve the greater world ? I don't see how it could.
Love is a phoenix,
Barbarously burning,
Longing and yearning,
Mysterious mystics.
To love is to die
And rise once more
From the ashes to sing the lore
Of love, until the blood gets dry.
Love is velvety and richly red,
Its silky stains stay sincere,
Tragic turmoil it may appear,
Miraculously Maroon love's words bled
Just like the wings that phoenix shed.
Love is moral and immoral,
It is autumnal and floral,
It is right and it is wrong,
As sweet as a phoenix song.
Flames of love are so sacred,
Smouldering and smoking,
Until its victims are utterly choking,
Isn't it enriched and intoxicated!
Love is a phoenix,
Beautiful and basking,
Only giving and never asking.
His tears faded away
with the most concerning
image of tommorrow ever
seen
modern usage of a Jollux
man. Spearing to victory
or so he seemed
as he speared up
meat and cabbages
for the supper he
had planned.
It would exclude his wife
who wished him
to look to something more
healthy
as he would only smile
at the sight of fat and richly
savoring treats.
He used the term
Beef-witted to decribe her
as she only liked to
shame him
might she find support against him
with snoutflairs
aannd consorted people
"those who wished us apart:
mind you they seek tresure
and lack the concern for your
well being"
he told his wife as she
looked lustinhly at the folk
on the hot busy beach.
" might a need to be apart
from me find you with the studs
here watching you
My Darling?"
She frowned and spoke of his
wonderings as trival and him
as crazy: knowing that he
only wished her to
trusted and true to him
When fall’s chill fingers clasp the edge of dawn
to peel hot summer’s languid days away
the call of harvest beckons, whereupon
it yields rich crops in bountiful array.
A pageantry of richly colored trees
grace quiet landscapes on a country road
as pungent scents of spice and apples breeze
through sleepy fields where autumn’s spell unfolds.
Enchanted magic comes at crest of night
as jack o lantern’s wink and goblins laugh
where solemn graveyard spirits cause great fright
that chase away the living in its path.
With wonderment, embracing every part
the thrill of autumn’s richness warms the heart.
Written on 11/10/2019
He has gone forth
and traversed the paths of the world
and sought out those things
the desires of his soul
to see the majesty of the land
the work of those who labor
in their daily struggles
who walk in flame and in pain
and to preserve those things
in song and moving pictures
so that others might
see as he sees
who can turn his course
his feet are firm set
his focus is fixed
and he has stayed true to his path
who can move his heart
He understands himself
can another see him
His fire smolders It is in his control
His power is his own
a richly landscaped mind
the possibilities are endless
the depth and breath of him
is ceasless and endearing
My heart aches to explore him
and mine the vastness of his mind
its expanse is awesome a lifetime to reach into
all his nooks and crannies
May the sun rise
and shine upon all you do that is true
May you know that you
have brought beauty into my soul
and touched my heart
tenderness fills it
the only man who has moved me
from myself my own circumspection
to look upon his
no scriptures for this as its simply reflections
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
He leaves his silent signature on every piece of art
Not seeking worldly profit or acclaim,
Yet touches of perfection often set his work apart
And witness to his honourable name.
He moves his painter’s palette from the east unto the west
From north to south he coats the sweeping land.
His artistry is limitless and stunningly expressed
With every brushstroke marvellously planned.
Assorted textures bring to life the panoramic scenes
Resplendent in their richly varied hues,
From pastel pink to persimmon and dazzling emerald greens
Warm russet browns and iridescent blues.
A masterpiece can sometimes be neglected it is true
And counterfeits delude us at first sight,
So let us keep this perfect canvas in our field of view
And in the artist's workmanship delight.
06/10/18
(British spellings)
N/A :‘The paint mover poetry contest’ : Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
I awoke to find silver rays streaming in
In half awake state I lay dreaming
I glide on the silky moonbeams
In radiant moon's soft glow
While sweet breeze sing
Melody of music as they gently blow.
Floating on soft delicate
Wisps of pink clouds sailing
Dancing gaily on rainbow across
The sapphire blue sky.
The splendid golden sun paints
The sky pale pink and crimson gold
Purple colored lofty mountains
Waving to me I behold.
Sparkling brooks gurgling and babbling
In sweet ecstasy and glee
Blooming evergreen sheltering trees
Beckon me with wide open arms
Richly fragrant spring flowers
And scented blossoms delight.
Soon the sky turns a purple tinted hue
Golden stars glitter like diamonds
Embedded in a soft velvet sky
Casting an exquisite golden, celestial glow
The moon and stars dance in joyful harmony
Delightful dream filling me with heavenly bliss.
I have loved my individual self always,
With my physique, psyche, flesh, blood, grace, and glaze;
Midst my gender and cast, and creed and sex, and sect,
How uniquely Nature has formed me beauty decked...!
When I go within and find the treasures concealed,
Like secrets of fertile land that does richly yield;
Virtues and values, venture victoriously,
Like angels ascend the heavens gloriously...!
Above all, the uniqueness I applaud most is:
Compassion and honesty make me a true wiz...!
These, like lamps in darkness, lighten my avenues,
And brighten my mind and heart with celestial views...!!!
03 March 2023
Writing Challenge - I Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Theme: Identity
What would you do
if I walked out on you?
Would you stand up
and sing out of key?
I'm really quite sure
if you did this to me
I would sit down
or stand up
and dream how to be.
Do we need everybody?
We sure need sometime to be.
Could it be anybody?
As long as that someone's not me.
What would I do
if you came home from school?
Would I ask what
you learned out of key?
You're not really sure
when they thought they might teach
Me is being
what We might become.
Do you hear anybody?
I just need someplace to be.
Could you be anybody?
As long as they don't act like me.
What would Yang do
to fill out his vast form?
Would Yin win
to flow and fill in?
How light might we get
to know empathy?
Could time's nature
unfold us again?
Do we need to feel better?
We all need some EarthTime to love.
Could we be anybody?
No, We Occupy CoPresence Today,
we re-occupy EcoPresent ToNight
Earth's ReGenerate Crown-Rooting Rite
to appreciate
even more therapeutic
co-arising
political with economic
ego/eco-logical compassion.
TransParent
CoPresence of Time's
Folding
Unfolding
Refolding
PreFold Prime
CoRelational (0)-Soul EcoSpiritNature
time to rhyme.
I think it is true
but I'll leave it to you,
we could gain a better therapeutic high
sustained through future regenerations
with a little more help
from our more ecotherapeutically self-governing
friends
and cooperative health optimization policy writers,
and investors
of both time and
that stuff we use to get high
off ego-competition
consumer games,
when we could richly
warmly invest in eco-cooperation
present co-presence
Win/Win transforming games
people play.
yet too seldom say.
Martin Luther King,
and other gospel reared nonviolent communications leaders,
advocated for "Beloved Communities."
An important difference between Beloved and Opulent may have to do with integrity,
intimacy,
interior grace of sacred loved place
in opulent EarthTribe enriching space.
I hope that any ego-centering and re-centering relationship of love may become embraced by warmly interdependent ecosystemic surroundings, supporting bioregionally polycultural opulence,
resonance,
expanding out into sacred green and red and blue and yellow and orange and purple and turquoise non-violent resilience.
Opulent polyculturing communities learn to minimize win/lose competitive health risks by optimizing wealthy, resilient win/win opportunities.
Intent and planning and budgeting and cooperative design work
play mini-retreats to richly engage compassionate communication, verbal narratives, as residents feel safe in mutual transparency,
rooted in nonverbal beloved feelings, co-empathically polytheistic,
for and from wildly green wiki win/win womanist allies.
Emerging from chronically stressed, opulent pearls of indigenous wisdom, ancient sacred overwhelming waves of ecstatic emotions inspire today's interdependent opulent spell-binding synergetic experiences.
Jesus's Holy Spirit openly, quietly, shadow GoldenRules again.
Sacred experiences range from
middling win/lose images of stressed humane/divine relationships of passive mistrust;
then down through traumatic monoculturing, monotheistic, monopolistic stressed despairing lack of relationship;
and then soaring to heights of win/win beloved ego core soul centers and ecosystemic healthy and safe multicultural opulence.
An illusion of Beloved EgoPrivilege becomes mountainously hierarchical Yang from above, peak patriarchal-capitalist engorgement experience.
Meanwhile Opulent EcoParadise engages ecologically enthymematic regenerative tissues
with degenerative issues
unresolved by bipolar illusions against Yang's privileged autonomy, dominance,
like right handedness
and logical verbal mindedness
and not self-abandoned nakedness
cooperative pleasure
copassionate joy.