All England, blinking nervously, is out!
A little mild spell, much to our surprise,
has brightened frowsy February skies.
We sniff the air with nostrils schooled in doubt.
Baffled by balm, the fruit trees have misfired.
Like foolish virgins, hurrying on their scarves,
They've pushed out blooms half-petaled and half-starved.
The coming frosts will slice them like cheese-wire.
And I have loved you far too eagerly.
My half-cocked hopes have withered on the bough.
I should have doled my sweets more meagerly -
then, had I granted space, and time, and light,
your hobbled feelings might have taken flight,
in any time or place - but England. Now.
Alphabet soup
. for public domain
A freshly polished silver spoon easily whirls
warm pasta letters in a China bowl,
while Poetry struggles meagerly
to stir his spirit, enrich his soul.
He rather would want for food than words,
a rhyme, a sweet line, or a symbolic enthymeme,
while Language recedes from this aging mind,
with little to forage, little to find.
Muses are eternal souls, fit for better
than tired, aging flesh bent over soup bowls.
So the Spirits fly the coop, so to say,
and leave him on his own to droop
over mysterious letters in his alphabet soup
stay, oh glory —
dwindling at night,
stay — and go,
as such does the light.
the silence within, the deafening talk,
all meagerly wait as you two come forth.
your mind and your soul, united at last;
you’ve spoken too soft, you’ve seen it run past.
it just disappeared, the moment it came;
as such is its fate, and you felt the same.
Even good persons will be judged for their character
for not having done enough when they could have,
ah, the judgment of the condemned will be harsher;
some believe it's a bluff, and they continue to misbehave.
There are different ways of giving,
it depends on how a heart is feeling,
the most generous give abundantly
and those less kind give meagerly.
Then who should be judged harshly?
The ones who give out of their kindness,
and are motived by the eagerness,
or those who are cold and show no mercy?
In the eyes of God generosity is delightful
when a hungry mouth devours a meal and is full;
be generous and give away some of your riches...
if abundance has blessed you beyond expectations.
Even good people will be judged for their character,
they might be humble, but their joy is undeniable;
everybody doubts that opening hearts has its rewards...
won't they feel a tenderness that is louder than cheer?
Even good persons will be judged for their character,
for not having done enough when they could have;
ah, the judgment of the condemned will be harsher...
some believe it's a bluff, and they continue to misbehave!
There are different ways of giving,
it depends on how a heart is feeling;
the most generous give abundantly
and those less kind give meagerly!
Then who should be judged harshly?
The ones who hesitate to demonstrate kindness,
and are motived by their eagerness,
or those who are cold and refuse to show mercy?
In the eyes of God generosity is very delightful
when a hungry mouth devours a meal and is full;
be generous and give away some of your riches...
if abundance has blessed you beyond expectations!
Even good people will be judged for their character,
they might be humble, but their joy is undeniable;
everybody doubts that opening hearts has its rewards...
won't they feel a tenderness that is louder than cheer?
Two sons had equal
shares, younger squandered and lived
a lowly life, he returned
and begged forgiveness
father rejoiced with a feast
asked irked eldest, discernment
*As scriptured.
The younger son lived a flamboyant and wicked life and when he had lost all he had, he lived meagerly under a task masters whip, a pig's life. He knew he had wronged his father and went to him to beg forgiveness, but the father rejoiceth for he is alive and well. He ordered a big feast, much to the chagrin of the eldest brother who stayed and slaved under the father, irked that such a feast was never given him. His father begged the elder son to understand that his younger brother was lost to the world, but he was given back to us whole. Rejoice for your younger brother liveth.
Date: 06/23/2019
Content in my reason, I indulge my future distress
Feckless friends and fiends lie...together
Our homemade misery surmounts
Indeed, we do have a habit of making habits
This Intention for contention is our invention
A fleet of reckless daggers flow from my mouth
I decimate past and present alike
Thus, the future flees from my nearsighted discourse
My dreams vehemently elude themselves far from my sight
Devoid of ambition, I fall from the sky with Lucifer and all of his friends
These means will never be justified
Choleric, we are vexed by our sugar-coated ends
This silence overtakes us
We are lucid metaphors of our former-selves
I lie awake and wake to lie
My half-empty bottle is never fulfilled, and never content
My heart is a home of chaos
A passionate portrait of selfishness
I am a kin to fruitless endeavors
Forgetting sense, I meagerly float throughout this wretched discourse...
And who am I?
Am just another man with another name
With dreams bigger than his height
Hopping for the best
Trying harder to keep the faith
But fire rains on him
The man who prays for refuge
Come tomorrow, lions still have craws
Earth, doomed
Humanity, cursed
Sin, forbidden
Peace, compromised
Order, reversed
Wealth, defiant
Should I do the right thing?
The world doesn’t favor the good
I will still wake up armed
Tighten my gear, set for the dream
Meagerly, a foot ahead of the other
I will be chasing hopes though in turmoil
I will kiss the face of the sun
If that’s what it takes
Whilst under your feet,
In the drifting scums,
I will honor the man with the master plan?
All England, blinking nervously, is out!
A little mild spell, much to our surprise,
has brightened frowsy February skies.
We sniff the air with nostrils schooled in doubt.
Baffled by balm, the fruit trees have misfired.
Like foolish virgins, hurrying on their scarves,
They've pushed out blooms half-petaled and half-starved.
The coming frosts will slice them like cheese-wire.
And I have loved you far too eagerly.
My half-cocked hopes have withered on the bough.
I should have doled my sweets more meagerly -
then, had I granted space, and time, and light,
your hobbled feelings might have taken flight,
in any time or place ... but England. Now.
My air conditioner goans
In the noon day summer’s heat
While unseen… except to me
I watch winter running about
Seeking shelter
In the far shady left corner
Of my meagerly furnished living room
Occasionally
During the cooler nights
When the north wind blows
It has popped its head out
With fingers crossed
While dark eyes stare
At the bright moon and stars
And cloudless skies
Fearless
Except for the light of dawn
Or a power failure
Or air conditioner malfunction
Hopeful
That summer won’t last
And the cold winter wind
Will blow
Into that far left corner
Confident
That someday soon
It will once again be
Winter
The elements of the heavens above
Where the birds go swaying and dipping down
And the clouds mist their way along the sky
There the dark sky shrouds the moon with a gown
In awe I spread my arms just to accept
The nature of the clouds and the cool air
Beams of white light coming out from the moon
Adds to the serenity that’s out there
I hold out my hand to receive a drop
A drop of dew from the heavens above
Tenderly I kiss it and fill my soul
Makes me want to fly with the birds I love
The highest point of the sky before space
Is where I end up, looking at the stars
No other beauty compares to this trip
I slowly fall back amongst the briars
I live meagerly here on this vast Earth
Then I fly again amongst the great clouds
I often go see with the birds up high
Joyously live my days with all that’s proud
Russell Sivey
I don’t know what you might have heard,
But I love God because He is the word.
Through His words the world was created,
And if only meagerly here’s how we’re related.
I use words to create each and every day,
And I feel that I’m closer to God in this way.
The words that I choose whenever I write,
He sends to me to deliver His light.
It’s words I’ll use to praise His name,
And words he’ll send to play this game.
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome[a] it.
In this place I passed today
Were the many faces unknown to me
From the corner of my eye I spied
A man of strangest seemingly so out of place
He walked with his head drawn down as though he meagerly disgraced
Out of smiles sternly wearing a frown
He wears a long black coat with a candy cane scarf
A dark cowboy hat with a destination amongst the breezes
With his hands in his pocket hunting for keys
Plumes of dried street salt sailed into the air
All over the buildings and cars, all over his hair
Late winter days pass so slowly
Waiting for the endless borage of last minute snow
Cars coated with dirty city street grime
The harshness of this winter victims of time
And time as such will pass over this season
Bringing along the vernal equinox with a view far more pleasing
Worn and withered
Are his eyes
A lonely old soul, pale at heart and meagerly
Driven
Brought down so low
Worn to emptiness
Aside the sadness
He lives in his mind
A hard place to climb
Amongst the webs of his defenseless history
His lips breathe that of silence
A disease has taught him
To be unforgiving to himself
He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders
Where he smolders
In the corner of deception
Lashing out a melancholy tune
On the instruments of his soul
Should he reach out a hand?
To take command of this
Tattered life
For he knows no other way
But to find God and pray
And ask for another day
For strength
And a guiding light
That he may love again
First for himself
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