The mind borders on the sublime,
related to the divine source,
a powerful force pervading the universe.
I can write verse after verse,
but there is nothing worse
than reading someone's thoughts,
sounding like reports,
going on and on.
Know the difference between right and wrong,
where did you get your information from?
Pause before you speak,
your premise may sound weak.
What is it that you seek?
Curiosity leads to learning,
the lack of insight is concerning.
One must not digress, I just wanted to address
the current situation,
let's get back to the topic of creation.
It has come to my attention
that if you lack intention,
fall short of enough motivation,
you will be in suspended animation.
Stay with me as I continue this story,
take you on a journey inside my consciousness,
hold on while I clear up the mess,
I must confess I do assess
each moment, absorbed in the present.
I was traveling on a road
A road with no diverging
A road expected to be smooth
A road texture of which can be trusted
I encountered many jerks
The ride was becoming unpleasant
I still continued
In hope of leaving the jerks
I encountered potholes now
The ride was now impossible
Yet I had some fraction of hope inside
I kept on travelling
I kept in mind
If potholes return
I will change my medium
Or will change the road
We travel on roads to get a smooth ride
Jerks can be tolerated
Even sometimes only
Potholes are impossible
If one continues their ride
Even on potholes
They either hope for a smooth path
Or are stubborn fools to drive
I walked into a fire
that wasn’t made of flame,
a blaze of doubt and longing
that called me by my name.
It rose from buried questions,
from truths I tried to hide,
from all the dreams I’d quieted
to keep the peace inside.
Its heat was forged of choices,
of paths I didn’t take,
of moments when my courage
fell silent for my sake.
The sparks were old assumptions,
the smoke was worn-out fear,
and every crackling ember
said, You’re meant to stand right here.
I felt it burn around me,
yet nothing turned to ash;
instead the fire revealed me
in one bright, searing flash.
It stripped away the shadows,
the stories I outgrew,
and left me with a fierceness
I never knew I knew.
For metaphorical fire
does not arrive to break~
it comes to heal, to melt the boundaries
we never meant to make.
And when its heat has softened
the walls we built in vain,
with faith we step out of the furnace
more whole than we remain.
We all
Got angels and demons
On our insides.
And ain't it nice
When the angels get out,
And we does good?
So easier to be proud.
Easier to be humble to.
Those demons, they wreck us;
You know it is true.
We taught the silence to wear our name,
called it tomorrow, a fragile frame,
hung every heartbeat on a melting seam.
hours sag like sleep from a wounded tree,
minutes forget who they’re meant to be,
the past hums heavy in the ribs of me.
then two lost clocks began to align,
your breath finding time inside of mine,
as if our souls had rehearsed this climb.
I followed my shadow through folded air,
measured my worth by the depth of care,
until your presence answered the prayer.
meaning arrives when the chase stands still,
when love interrupts the force of will,
and yet here we are.
A beggar grabbed my hand and cried for some spare change.
At first, I offered him a sweet memory of food or a tasteless sip of divine water, but he asked for money.
I had a heavy coin and gave it to him.
I wondered why he took only the money, and when he saw it, he immediately placed it in a different spot.
I asked why.
I offered you food and water—you rejected both, and now you hide the coin.
He said it was the most different one, and if he didn’t hide it, other people would start accusing him that the coin was wrong, that it shouldn’t be used—because its print was different, because its color didn’t match theirs.
You may rain on my parade,
But I will never end my crusade
As long as you let me try to persuade,
Just know my romance is no charade.
You may doubt you can reciprocrate
But I will still show you what I can create:
Unconditional love means I can never hate
While you may continue to leave me in wait.
You showed maybe there's something inside
You made me put aside my guard and pride
You made me feel so alive with such stride
Your lovemaking brought forth a new tide
You may be unsure and questioning,
But I am ready to be the one listening
To all of what you are willing
To freely express even if it is unfeeling.
Letting all the liquid courage
Fuel my will through searching of forage.
In the pure bright wake, I went fishing’ for calm and all I caught was tumblin’ time.
The hours were soppin’wet with pond scum and the seconds kept getting’ away as soon as I thought I had them hooked.
The minutes peered up at me from the crepuscular waters and told a lie. “Be patient, those seconds can’t escape forever! You can get them, we just know it!”
They spoke with bubbles in their mouths, then those minutes were gone.
I struggled with my fishin’ pole, the line hopelessly tangled with some phantasmic bugbear, my nightmares come alive! Probably a log, though.
The hours in my bucket (catch of the day!) pulled me from my musing with weepin’ and howlin’, it was all so unlovely. What were they cryin’ about?
“Our beloved minutes! Precious seconds! We are in ruin without them, can’t exist without them,” the poor things whimpered.
I kicked the bucket over and the dark water inside spilled the trapped hours onto the dock and over the edge. Sploosh! Plop!
The hours proclaimed a love that is by far the only great love there is. Flawless. Desperate. Irrevocable. This paramour is unheard of! I heard the whispers on the bubbles.
Where there is war,
There can be no peace;
No matter who or where you are,
We must, as one, tame this vicious beast:-
Where there is war,
There can be no peace;
No matter who are where you are
Chanting "War For Peace", must cease:-
It's like a shark with an octopus' head in its jaw,
Changing to t it prey, "Thanks for this killing tasty piece;
And thanks to the gods of water, be floodedor this blood of ocean war":-
Oh, let the rumors of war be tabooed and forbidden:
Let peace on Earth and good will to all be as has been written:-
May the thunder of hope and elighten spirit sky our ways,
And may God's precious clouds of joy blacken with coveted love;
That in the coming remaining time in our lives' coming days,
Our blessed Earth will be flooded with raining peace from above;
And may that oxymonic warring chant be forever shoved:-
I yearn for a quiet life,
Its really hard though
When all your life has been noise.
I constantly pondered on
what it must be like,
But my brain finds it hard to fathom such a concept
I yearn for a quiet life.
The noise becomes so loud that
It being quiet is outlandish
Something beyond comprehension
When all your life has been noise.
Even when the quiet,
Makes the occasional visit, its shocking every time
When all your life has been noise.
My words intertwined with the deepest emotions
Dreams, goals and sometimes sorrow deeper than an ocean,
My words are like waves that wash over each reader in different ways
Sometimes crashing down and others just simply sways
And like the tide it moves each reader in a different way
Casting them far off or bringing them closer to the shore or safely in a bay,
I am a poem and my words are like waves Washing over readers to cast them away
she could not handle the truth
easier to live a lie
just the truth the whole truth nothing but the truth
does it still exist
when none believe reality its still truth
if all believe lies they are still falsehoods
authenticity captures facts that exist
cold hard facts metaphorically speaking
how do I substantiate its actual
is there a magic formular to follow
do I trust my instinct can it be misled
if its verisimilitude can I trust
being lifelike cannot be the whole answer
fakes can seem more actual than authentic
verifying requires a masters degree
some anomalies are true world or true life
says true fruit would they put fake fruit in the can
corporeality surely must exist
a physical body a truthful being
must be believed actual
The Donkey of Destiny
The party was set, the guests were invited,
The adults were happy, the kids all excited.
All going to plan; the hosts were delighted,
Then the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
The Board of Directors set forth their campaign,
To conquer their industry, supremely reign,
To guarantee ultimate financial gain,
Til the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
Military leaders made their decision,
Troops were deployed with painstaking precision.
Soon they would realise their tactical vision,
Then the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
To amuse the young children, a day out was planned,
Buckets and spades and sunshine and sand.
Ice-cream and fish-and-chips; seaside brass band,
But the Donkey of Destiny brayed – he-haw!
The Donkey of Destiny brayed.
There’s nothing as fickle as Destiny’s Donkey,
Capricious as weather, and sly as a monkey,
Be certain that everyone’s hopes will turn funky,
When the Donkey of Destiny brays – he-haw!
When the Donkey of Destiny brays.
My metaphorical life
I serve it on a platter, and
grace...
youth is a
visible comet that further
that quickly passes....
And life only exists
for those who live it
and feel... with grace!
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