The Paiute tribes, before they fell*,
were known to use, masterfully well,
copious pumice and obsidian,
found on the alpine meridian,
where the Long Valley Caldera blew to hell.
* "fell" might not be the right word. A little Internet research tells me that one of the Paiute tribes, the "Bishop Paiute Tribe" has a reservation near Bishop California, near the Mammoth Lakes area, where I collected pumice and obsidian as a child.
You came for me and I am still flourishing
Obstacles were once on my path now they they are destroyed in my favor
How funny it is to be a golden alchemist
cycles of depression and suffering I transmute so quickly and masterfully
into more of my blessings, I keep on growing and I keep on flourishing
how funny it is to be, a golden alchemist.
Dream Master dream ...
Dream me a dream
Dream me the most wonderful dream
As I let go and relax
From this world for a while
Let me remember to remember
That pondering place
After the slumber takes hold
There’s still life within that inner space
Full of wonders where only dreamers behold
Dream Master dream ...
Dream me a dream
Dream me the most wonderful of dreams
While I lie and regenerate
Lay low and masterfully debate
Is it time now to let loose the mystic to orate
Singing dream songs in my sleep
Streaming live from the Deep
Dream Master dream ...
Dream me a dream
Dream me the most wonderful dream
Hit them where it hurts
President Trump said “Ukraine has no cards to play to end war with Russia”. Yet deep inside Russia, Ukraine masterfully destroys over 40 warplanes that could carry nuclear weapons, using smuggled drones; simultaneously attacks multiple air fields. Russia loses an estimated $7,000,000,000 dollars in one day. This is the one for the history books
It’s what you call “the art of war”
Unseen, unheard, not done before
Hit in the balls, the chin and mug
Ukraine plants hurtful wartime slug
The “Trojan Horse” of modern times
Payback for vicious bloody crimes
Can’t puff your cheeks, the air’s gone
Deprives the evil of its brawn
No one can tell them what to do
Defeating goons is peace, that’s true
As heavy blow, as ever been
Support the noble fight, to win
Burned planes launched heaviest attacks
Could threaten world with N-word axe
And now they’re gone, ain’t that a shame?
We watch. Hey, “Slava to Ukraine”!
June 2, 2025
I love the way your tears
Meander through the secret seams
Etched by time upon my face.
I love the way your sundry eyes
Light up
When my world turns dark.
I treasure your novel designs,
Masterfully brushed against a sun-kissed sky.
I relish in the cool, tender cradle
Of heaven’s clouds upon the earth,
Where I rest in an angel’s quiet embrace.
I love your steadfast stability,
Your unwavering consistency,
And the dazzling diversity
That breathes life anew.
I reverence your constancy amid ceaseless change.
Your love -
Inscribed in the fabric of time -
Visible to the world each day,
Yet discernible only in the silent
Whispers of its most sacred moments.
Best seller
“Gone Girl” a novel by Gillian Flynn
Riddles, my wife loved games of amusement
I never found out the clue of why
she had gone missing, accuse me?
I was spent on our anniversary
Under mysterious circumstances
Nothing is what it seems
Nick and Amy’s duality
Identity, masculinity
For once I didn’t feel like I was struggling
Iconic cool girl persona
The girl men like Nick want
Never get angry, party girl, let men do what they do
Women’s issues, an essay Amy would write
Molding herself into that girl reinventing herself
Image and alter-ego are everything!
Appearance verses reality
Genuine pleasure to read
Oh, she has the last word
A classic Who done it? distinct subgenre
Surprising and masterfully done
Amy is smart, self-aware with a vindictive psyche
Warning authors of their marriage
Nick’s side or Amy’s?
Two very different humans
They both prove to be unreliable
Awry, a thriller of unease
Truth is,
The soul's nuptial gown,
Masterfully embroidered,
By
Virtue and justice,
Under
The guidance of the divine!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 December 2024
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL
When Mort
is kind the weakened levy
breaks the sound releases
solace abound the masters
of the game fallen to soon
left over gripes payoffs bribes
threatening the poet beckoning
the brilliant mind to covenant
haste the meaningful lessons
of truth how a poet spends a
lifetime in solitude of the mind
witnessing giving birth to true
poetry that can’t be taught poetry
is profound letters between
the poets own soul to the poets
own heart it can never ever be
extorted my assassins gathered
in my midst to retrieve my poetry
for fraudulent means masterfully
sending hitmen to Mort me
trust as I kneel over
my own killers mercy and Grace
provides redemption of the mind
poetically Mort is kind
Hanging on the parlor wall,
over paper the color of leaves in fall,
is a magnificent painting.
Full of hopes and dreams,
and all those things,
full of life and love and color.
It is masterfully done
(and "masterfully" hung).
From my plush chair, I admire it.
Tilting my head from side to side,
and closing one eye,
examining the brush strokes.
It is unique in every way.
The best I’ve seen this day,
but there is one thing I can’t ignore.
One thing that should never be said,
a haunting group of words that bring dread.
“It is... off center.”
Without a bachelor's, master's, or PhD to think of,
No need, as this architect is adept and has credentials from above.
With its pristine vision, it takes twigs and all sorts of organic things,
And with an industrious spirit, it masterfully builds with its beak, digits, and wings.
Soon, there's the completion of a winsome design,
A naturally fortified rendering by the penduline.
After numerous delays
and many instances of going astray,
You finally put them on.
Now, they are snug and comfortably fastened.
These blinders are securely fitted and strapped, masterfully shutting out all distractions.
Your field of vision is directly ahead,
with nothing to the left or right.
You are focused on the glorious light ahead,
running diligently toward that bale of golden hay,
away from the distractions of yesterday.
You hurt, poverty, but i don't hate you
You have mental illness, and misery and pain are your diagnosis
You're an issue in life! unbearable in a world of abundance
You're the biggest prison in the world, which is uncomfortable,
but you also give me methods to console myself.
You're a transient state, a situation to others, but you often pose challenge.
you keep finding enjoyment in crime scenes, and the only thing that makes you beautiful is you give us the will to work hard to overcome poverty
You're not intractable ache
though the effects of the are felt,
you are a masterfully designed creation of God
Though the economic pain is felt
Poverty you not just a word.
Onyx beauty
By Michelle Morris
27/07/2020
He was a magnificent
creature of onyx beauty;
Tossing his mane,
and lifting his hooves...
A stallion so proud,
wild and free;
Masterfully powerful
for all to see...
© Michelle Morris, 2020
Up and down, back and forth, left and right,
Before and after; which way to go?
Does this describe a needed direction,
That space and time seem to flow?
The scales of these concepts, extend
Well beyond what any can see.
In a universe that remains untethered,
Like wild dogs running amuck, & we're the fleas!
Within limits, our rhetoric uses reference arrows,
Such as, parallel and phase, to point the way.
While adding confusion to the chaos;
Is God shuffling cards for the next play?
This exploration allows many pathways,
Seeking a place we might understand.
Yet as dimensions come and go, our imaginations
Will keep pace, as if masterfully planned.
let hearts build bridges
idyllic streams and water ~
masterfully done
~~~
02/02/2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
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