away from the unconscious bias in the world
i escape my comfort zone and open up my mind and my heart
new ways of doing introduce themselves to me
new worlds worth seeing welcomes me with unexpected open arms
new people with interesting personalities meaningfully school me as well as own me with the best intent
tears flow rather freely because i am experiencing and discovering beyond complicated, constipated fear
i am totally and completely inspired to find out about and experiment with More
away from the unconscious bias of the world
The recent, decent, authorised remaster -
now deeper, fuller, meaningfully vaster,
it’s done its fifty years – this one’s a laster!
I don’t care if you’re reggaeton or Rasta,
you worship Satan, Seti, Zoroaster -
just play this baby for your priest or pastor –
it’s early Fleetwood Mac, but cooler, faster –
so get it grooving on your ghetto blaster!
Abandon Grand Theft Auto, drop your Dune,
and scrap your Patti Smith and Patti Boone:
just get more Gilmour (boy, that boy can croon!)
and Roger Waters, nicely out of tune:
the rest is paltry. Daltrey’s picayune.
I’ll meet you on the Dark Side of the Moon!
All I need is inspiration,
To write poetry every morning
As the sun is dawning.
All is I need is dedication,
To write poetry every evening,
And even when I’m sleeping.
All I need is my heart beating,
To write poetry with a passion,
In any style or fashion,
I write a poem on just a whim,
And go out on a limb,
I the beholder see beauty in everything.
I can write alliteration,
And careful of misinformation,
I write love poems with flirtation,
With careful deliberation,
Striving towards fair direction,
Love our poetic generation.
My muse eager to co-operate,
As we generate and contemplate,
And meaningfully corroborate.
Should I not be happy with my poem,
With its title, content, or a name,
I move to a process of elimination,
Poetry my passion and intoxication.
I see us smoking what we've grown from our seedlings.
I see us singing songs of our harmonizings.
I see us growing from our pains.
I see us sharing all of our gains.
I see us dancing slowly to our favourite melodies.
I see us consuming our newest remedies.
I see us sleeping again in each other's arms.
I see us showing off each other's charms.
I see us swimming together in the sea.
I see us travelling together, feeling so free.
I see us kissing each other so deeply.
I see us conversing again so meaningfully.
I see us living in our home.
I see us holding hands wherever we roam.
I see us finally being together forever.
I see us taking care of each other when under the weather.
February 20 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Numbers 21-22
Key Verse– Numbers 21:3 And the LORD hearkened to the voice of Israel, and delivered up the Canaanites; and they utterly destroyed them and their cities: and he called the name of the place Hormah.
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO HEARKENS TO OUR PRAYER VOICE
Praise be to God for hearkening to our prayer voice:
Delivering us mightily
Dealing with us mercifully
Defending us majestically
Driving us meaningfully
Directing us manageably
Numbers 21:34 Praise be to the Lord for delivering us by His:
Guarding hands toward triumphant servanthood
Guiding holiness of true sanctification
Girding hope along tenacious standards
Goading help with trustworthy strength
Gripping hoisting up against terrible selfishness
Numbers 22:38 Praise be to the Saviour Who puts
in our mouth what we must speak about, which is His:
Word upon prevailing truth
Ways midst powerful teaching
Will along profitable testimony
Work of perfect task
Worth so peaceful against trials. Amen.
February 20, 2024
STRUCTURES
intrigue
resonates
in
informal
voice
depend
upon
the unusual
begetting
emotion
in
reflected
detachment
&
figures
of speech
authentic
particulars
meaningfully
compressed
6
transmitted
*Image of Renascence Album by SPOT.
Renascence
Dilapidated bulges bore in vain,
Counterproductive methods confirmed risk,
Drawing boards experienced once again,
Twilight oils burn onward past midnight's brisk.
The regeneration of the dormant,
The sedentary rejuvenated,
Characters clash excellent performant,
Old guards revised and emancipated.
The abandoned surrender willingly,
Causation of being its impetus,
The change serves its purpose meaningfully,
Portal outbreaks fictions of stimulus.
Energies perform on high Pegasus,
Directives laid down eyes regenesis.
2022 November 08
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 14
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 November 11
My words in sonnets, haiku, or "fences"
Only for you my endearing true love
Worry about voice, rhymes, and tenses
Only for you my prettiest pet dove
Carefully I slip each word on your string
Meaningfully picked and perfectly placed
To split your heart open and hear you sing
Sweet, sultry nothings from bosom unlaced
Light in your eyes dispels all my darkness
From your lips honey slips, drips, and oozes
Coats my sorrow and swallows my starkest
Hardest lumps, and my ugliest bruises
I'll write you a sonnet, a song, or haiku
My wild words, I tame only for you ;)
I
Remember Rahab "the harlot"
Gentile gone to God of Jewry
Jericho? She saw the light
I, too, iterate: God is Good
Choose correctly, pray patiently
Daily devotions, by people, prophets
II
Trust true Savior, Yeshua hameshiach
Don't delay: don't dally: pray
Patiently, faithfully, trustingly
Why go to men? Men may mend
Some things; God mends meaningfully
Go to Him, don't move a micro-millimeter
Spirit help me stay close; I move away
When I feel forlorn; He is still There
Apparently- adopted at birth, I
was timely told this when I turned twelve.
Though always adoring adoptive parents-
so oft turned thoughts to my mom's long-lost love.
My birth mother, most meaningfully would
rebuild roots and resolve rumors which I
diligently dismissed and dared dreamed false-
tried telling thoughts- she is genuinely good.
Youth yielded to adulthood; pursuance passed.
Then, one distinct day a caller came crashing
in my life; lost love loomed- luckily to be found!
My birth mom, brilliantly beaming- found me!
Lost love- now forever found! Puzzles perceived!
We soon connected, comingled, caught up.
The "why, when, where" my sacred start began;
the sharing, saying- from which womb I came.
So oft turned thoughts to my mom's long-lost love;
My birth mom, brilliantly beaming- found me!
The stars
Looking like my mother's eyes
Blinking meaningfully
Shining with warmth
Sparkling with love
Clear and soothing
Bright are the stars tonight
And so once, those of my mother's eyes
When I suddenly thought of
The happy days together
The only pain you make me feel,
Is the pain from smiling so much, so often…
The only pain for me, that is truly real,
Is the pain within me, as I see you in deep sadness…
The only pain you make me feel,
Is the pain of the conditioning of my heart and soul…
The only pain for me, that seems real,
Is the pain that is all your own, but I long to endure for ye.
Although love is painful in many ways,
You truly are the one I love very meaningfully.
The only pain you make me feel,
Is the pain of being away from you, for a whole season…
The only pain you make me feel,
Is the pain of not knowing how long we’ll be together…
The only pain this love causes me,
Is the pain of deeply feeling so many emotions.
The only pain for me, that is real,
Is the pain of our tight embrace when we reunite.
Although love is painful in such ways,
I know deep down, our love is truly very real.
Once upon a long time,
The silence blanketed my world
Like snow covering an arctic forest.
The nooks and crannies of my days
Were filled with the wispy webs of quietude
Worked by whispering limbs
Mine was a vast tundra
Of silence
Across which great unheard herds
Of thoughts could roam
Freely, gambol and graze
Encountering nothing to disturb them
Rivulets of words
Gathered and trickled
Over the schisty shingles
Of my mind
Eons passed
But one cold, silent, snow flaked January morning
A pioneer strode manfully, meaningfully
Into my wilderness without warning.
Falling in love with all that he saw
He began to sharpen his axe.
Now the hordes of herds have all but disappeared
And the rivulets have been dammed and channelled
Into a thousand subterranean pipes
And there is TV and MTV and DVD and MP3
And my world
Is rich with sound.
Once upon a long time,
The silence blanketed my world
Like snow covering an arctic forest.
The nooks and crannies of my days
Were filled with the wispy webs of quietude
Worked by whispering limbs
Mine was a vast tundra
Of silence
Across which great unheard herds
Of thoughts could roam
Freely, gambol and graze
Encountering nothing to disturb them
Rivulets of words
Gathered and trickled
Over the schisty shingles
Of my mind
Eons passed
But one cold, silent, snow flaked January morning
A pioneer strode manfully, meaningfully
Into my wilderness without warning.
Falling in love with all that he saw
He began to sharpen his axe.
Now the hordes of herds have all but disappeared
And the rivulets have been dammed and channelled
Into a thousand subterranean pipes
And there is TV and MTV and DVD and MP3
And my world
Is rich with sound.
© Barry Freeman – April 1984
come to me dear friends
I am at the sunset beach
sunset colours are
meaningfully eclectic
orange gray red blue and green
seated by their side
I can look back at
summers winters and autumns
I have left behind
grinning from ear to ear now
while the setting sun
paints the canvas with pleasure
a viewer in her or his dusk may also
guide the blue pattern
of his thought waves in dim light
on further reflection in this direction
it also seems that
the starlight is still more a
mirror than orange
twilight
I am now poised to pull myself in the milky way
look at me diffusing from one star to another
becoming ultimately
a microscopic sequence
of the universal corporality
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January 25, 2021
syllables: how many syllables. com : 2, 5, 7, 11 and 13
Suzette Prime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
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