(“Nonbinary”, 2023, original encaustic)
Who Are The Good Guys?
It’s a simple question and obvious assumption
But the “good guys” are always “us”
And not them.
And yet all around us, all the time
We see people changing sides
Growing up, becoming wiser, or more corrupt
But making a change, a conversion, a choice
To be themselves in new ways, or sometimes
Just their same old ways as others change.
But the assumption that we are always right
Yet in need of more skill in being right
Is what holds us back from something more.
And that something more
Is what awaits when all distinctions
Of us and them dissolve.
The ultimate OBE, not just out-of-body
But out of mind
And so, Samsara as well.
And when we are so delivered, what do we find?
Peace and spaciousness
And the face of the sacred, in everyone we see.
(11/23/24)
Disturbed over what she had planned
for tomorrow. Often times she refused to
me as included with her plans.
What sweet sonnets sing ye
the sound of togetherness
tangled with romance
an evening of love
a night to dance
Yes you my darling might obe
take part
in the clearest exception
where two promise never
to part
Love in the possibility of loving
where is tomorrow
that we shall love
the night away
each promise
each promise
Poem who shall write me
that you seem so inspired
promise who shall write me
Promise who shall write me
in titled to perfection
with each and every word
Poem who shall write me
Poem who shall write me.
then are they evil that they reherst
poem who shall write me
Sample the sweet sounds of
moring the feast upon the fruit
Poem who shall write me
Poem who shall write me
Then have we tonight
might the day was strange with
with sungsters
many words sung
some evasive of love
who shall sing the need
of our togetherness
nature sings in
the night might her
song be as sweet
Crepes for dessert
Air wafts with spring scent
Petals burst colors of buds
Robe of dew drapes grass
I feel joy free from frost freeze
Lie on lured butterfly wings.
YOUR DAY WILL COME
Wherever you go, where er may roam,
wherever your gift will obe day make room,
There you’ll be, for those who’ll see,
you’re going to get your bloom.
However long it takes, your day will come,
It may not arrive when you think it should,
but just as sure as His will, be done.
You’ll get where you had faitg that you would.
Sure as night and day, the rising sun and moon,
Just as surely as you’re born,
You’re going to dance to a different tune,
your night will break free in the faithful morn.
Those who suffered with you, with you will reign,
those who left, will be left behind,
You’ll be restored, all lost and more,
when it’s your now, your season to shine.
And when they’ll see, you lifted high,
they’ll know His love is true,
Because the love that’s loving them,
is living inside of you.
You’ll bless not curse, though last, now first,
and those who’s love you pursued.
They’ll return to the Lord anew, and all loss will be renewed. .
I write Letters
Letters in
Letters to you
Letters in the bin
Letters written sin
Letters for your thoughts
Letters once read
Letters by the bed
Letters in
Letters best said ..
Basildon Bond
Letters after me name
Letters so fond
Letters to an OBE
Letters to you belong
Letters in
Letters be
Letters of Love from you
To me
Every letter I write is deserving of every tree , so as to be heard, its for you just as much as it is for me ....
I m not perfect , flawed is true , stitched together with a little golden thread of love , integrity, compassion and common sense..I write Letters, that's me and I send to you ..
Kindest Regards
Daisy
Maria, oh Maria, wherefore art thou
Be sworn my love, my passion sores(?) like a swallow
Very poetic eh?
Amazing you say?
Received the OBE, sent is back coz in awards I wallow
Brexit Sonnet No.20
‘No More Hell-Broth’
Our Brexit bringers are cross with their leader ‘tis said,
Confidence lost with their gabardine dream of last year.
The model’s moved on, but distress on how they are led
Is causing them angst, with some pain; even fear.
Kindness is due to the man in the eye of the storm,
Well served his country with arms; OBE from our Queen.
Unseated by hurdle in midst of one’s life is the norm,
For a man who selects, or elects, a questionable team.
Now confidence escapes our Brexit bearers,
As wobbly Brexit cauldron boils and bakes,
It’s toxic mix of economic errors.
We suffer, whilst fools of all, it makes.
So eye of newt and toe of frog be gone!
We’ll drink no more hell-broth to Brexit’s song.
©Keith Murphy
Losing my seat
To explain regarding my train,
I left my seat seeking tea,
Up on my feet, out of my seat,
Asking a near neighbour to keep,
A close eye on my bag,
Not a difficult feat,
So after my sojourn,
I swayed my return,
To find a disabled man,
Had taken both my place,
But also thrown my bag,
Across the floor,
Politely I asked, if I could request,
That he move, just a little,
Something he did with a smile,
His blind eyes turned upwards,
In a shrivelled, crippled way,
And in between his sudden screams,
I learnt of his birthday, 33 today,
And his friend Obe, who guided his way,
A dreadlocked black angel,
Seeing the glory of God's creation,
In my humble acceptance,
Of circumstances survived,
And I was grateful he stole my place!
@Andrew Carnegie, Twixt Reading and Swindon,
Jan 7th 2017.
If you would like to know a bit about me and my poetry please click this link below:
https://youtu.be/Ic_V7aX4xbk
Sascha Kindred OBE was born in 1997,
And is married to swimmer Nyree Lewis,
Another gold-winning Paralympian, and,
They’re known as the “golden-couple”.
Sascha’s CP solely affects his right side,
And he was born in Münster, Germany,
He’s so far won thirteen Para medals,
And swims in class S6, SM6 and SB7.
He began in the Atlanta Paras, 1996,
Where he won silver for breaststroke,
And then in Sydney in the year 2000,
He struck 2 golds, 1 silver, 1 bronze.
In 2004 and in Athens at the Paras,
Feisty, he struck gold twice again,
And also won a bronze medal roar,
In the 4x50 metres freestyle event.
Then came 2000 in Beijing in China,
And Sascha won gold for the fifth time,
To race a time of 2:49.19, a top WR,
And also another gold and a bronze.
In London he claimed a silver spot,
With a time of 2:41.50 in the 200m,
And then in Rio he took hold of gold,
With a time of 2:38.47, 200m medley.
Lee Pearson is a para-equestrian athlete,
Because in horse jumping he does compete,
And has arlthrogryposis multiplex congenita,
Which he was born with in 1974, not bitter.
He’s a ten-times paralympic gold medalist,
‘Cos since Sydney 2000 he’s a perfectionist;
He won three gold in the 2000, 2004, 2008,
In the dressage, freestyle and team gate.
Lee was awarded an Honorary Doctorate,
From Staffordshire University in 2005 rate,
And got the MBE in 2001, the OBE in 2005,
Then was given a CBE in 2009 for his drive.
Sarah Storey was the first disabled athlete,
In the Commonwealth Games to compete,
As an English competitor, and she’s thrice,
Able-bodied national track champion of ice.
She was born without a left hand, entangled,
But she was firstly a swimmer, she jangled,
Then she became a cyclist on road and track,
And is still pedalling strong, not to look back.
She swam in Barcelona in 1992 and won,
Two golds, three silvers and a bronzed one,
Then in 2008, again at the Paras her fifth,
She won the individual pursuit with much pith.
Sarah Storey won Britain’s first gold in the C5,
In the women’s individual pursuit she’d thrive,
And in the C4-5 5000m, C4-5, and on road,
She won each one with a gold that was owed.
In 2014 she founded a sports cycling team,
Which supports a breast cancer charity keen,
And she became a MBE in 1998, OBE in 2009,
Then she was made a dame in 2013, long line.
She married Barney her coach and duel pilot,
For the tandem duel ride, which could be a riot,
And was on the 2012 Celebrity Mastermind IQ,
With Sex & The City, and also has a girl to coo.
Born in Walsall but growing up in Aldridge,
Ellie was born with achondroplasia to bridge,
She ended up at Olchfa School in Swansea,
With a larger swimming pool, destiny to see.
She was born on the 11th of November 1994,
At an age of 5 she opened the swimming door,
Her coach for her young life was Ashley Cox,
Who made her into a phenomenon that rocks.
When just 13, she won two sparkling golds,
For the 100m and the 400m freestyle folds,
At Beijing in 2008 where the Paras occurred,
And so was picked for the 2012’s, referred.
In those vibrant Paralympics of London city,
Ellie did win the S6 category with great ability,
Because she got gold for the 400m yet again,
And also won the 200 Individual Medley pen.
She’s an OBE since 2013 in the Honours List,
Was the Young Sports Personality 2008, gist,
She also won a silver and a bronze in London,
And has two gold postboxes to proudly spawn.
The darling of my heartling
Could do no better acting
With a bouquet,
Like a valet,
He turned me all scarlet!
Armed with his old pen, he hid in his den
And wrote for me, love verses, just like a man!
Then, beneath my balcony
He sang of his longing matrimony
Oh what a blissful symphony!
Stars could not not shine brighter
Angels who could not be happier
Everywhere, I could sense joy
His eyes made me so coy
And upon hearing his words, I danced like a toy!
Braving the laws, I decided one night
To set his love on loving light
Dressed in a rosy robe
I got hold of his ear lobe
And sang of my love, till we felt an obe!
My darling knight, my darling Lord
Let us fly on thy magic carpet out of our own accord
So that eternal shall be our story
Rhyming with pious sincerity
For each of our blessed glory!
12 October 2012
I brush the moor top
with curser on Google earth,
or an obe.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
As setting sun trails off behind a peak,
I lie in utter lone tranquility
here tethered to my earthly home. I seek
a sundering. . . A new mobility.
I focus on the hidden, inner me,
forgetting awkward limbs and hands and toes.
My body must entirely flaccid be,
so placidly I keep a still repose
that soul might elsewhere go past mountain tops.
Then suddenly, I feel my spirit pitch.
It spins; I’m on the brink. . . and then it stops!
I think this failure’s more than just a glitch.
I open up my eyes and see afar,
now twinkling with amusement, night’s first star.
(true story about my one attempt long ago for an OBE.)
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