Straining, yearning for a glimpse
of the magnificent personage
when shoved forward by the crowd’s energy
he found himself face-to-face
with the object of the crowd’s adoration
What else could the ten-year-old lad do
but kiss Mr. Kennedy on the cheek
~ for which he earned a standing ovation
__________________________________________
On the campaign trail, c. October, 1960.
So its three out of three.' From Tolstoy
i see, though I cannot meet him.'
My estimations
Already greet him, he questions the vehicle? Of shakespears position in a the Literal strastophere' he probes at what; why.? To me its clear.' Well clearer than the
Authenticity, of many writes and plays that
Be? Credited to this personage, a pen for hire..I Must here see' encouraged by the king, and others he espoused, crossdress and also sordid scenes.' All true not work of my pen.' Much such; from his quill did stream.? Or maybe less.? He was' or is not? Though Oxmoronically rendered' to history, and students, as universally ubiquitous extended; quite as can be,
the effect of many a smeared ink blot.)
Today is the feast of St. Claire
A favourite personage of mine.
She defeated Saracens with her faith.
Of all fond thoughts held deep within the heart
Like strings lightly strummed fly with agile wings
Take flight yet never from my mind depart
Soar as wandering clouds where angels sing
Thrilling depths unknown and conscious thriving
Meant for few who’ve neutered malice thinking
Free of hate and void of carnal striving
Loosed from the pull of gravity’s sinking
Launched to heights reserved near omnipotence
God is there, since love is His personage
Displayed, arrayed in great magnificence
Building a home of divine parsonage
Forever to reign in heaven’s glory
Love is the wind and might of the story
Balance one's composure continues
to remain poised for life's cards
dealt, Sometimes unaware of its
personage full of riddles. Balance
Balance of one's individuality, disposition
reserved, outgoing all sorts of
frequencies, One's initiation and
vibrancy are polarities. Balance
Yet Feminine energy, Masculine energy
up to this point eventually becomes
harmoniously balanced.
calligraphic
cycles
in
phased
personage
gestures
within
a trance
emptiness
calm
austere
alternating
nervousness
in
dynamic
reactions
Here comes the dawn
of a thoughtful Mourn.
Month of the desecrated demise
of a Monumental personage.
Unpleasant feels beclouds the air
I consume,
My structure reconciles itself
to the dreadful wake of the dawn.
Hushed his grief within,
As though He counts it less.
Burdened the hearts become.
For the weight tears apart within.
Boundary with her,
Was the sweetness of existence.
In a tick of misery
Hard to lug
Uneasy to let slip
Oh Death where’s thy sting
So fresh is the love of the parted soul
Mourning till an afterlife
In her two gems he rejoices.
As life gives succor.
Though Growth he beckons
For an extended home, before night falls.
Life’s unplayed cards
Relinquishes-daunts my being
Fathoming its depth
Again and again
Glum yet Grateful
For the Supreme One
Alone knows all and the why
We seem still within ourselves.
Three Decades plus Six
Yet I breathe
To make proud
This Monumental Personage.
A troll
A startling encounter
With a mysterious
Personage merged in
A natural setting..
You as a troll merged
With rocks and sky
And a slight smile
A knowing smile
Of the unknowing of
What seems coming
And going...
She slipped into the ballroom
Shimmied across the floor
Bobbed a graceful curtsy
Slid quickly through the door
Leaving some mixed reactions
From all those gathered there
First time they’d seen a tango
With the artiste totally bare
And it’s not the sort of thing
One ever ever expects to be seen
At an Official Civic Reception
For Her Majesty the Queen
And certainly not in Bolton
Not even as a merry jest
Especially when entertaining
Hordes of other Royal Guests
Though some few unkind people
Thought the Duke wanted more
Insisting they heard that personage
Murmuring encore encore encore
The palace issued a strong denial
An apology came from Tony Blair
Seen as rather ridiculous
As he wasn’t even there
The Heir was rather annoyed
Because he hadn’t been invited
On that special day that the
Mysterious woman was sighted
Somewhere up near Wigan
The dancer read her press
Already preparing for her
Next appearance sans any dress
So much of what is frothy babble
is laid before us as a truth when in truth
it is but frothy babble.
Each shiny coin newly mined and minted
with a fragrance green as the grasses
passes for a personage we would gather.
Coins as friends,
Ends justifying means,
The aftermath of fruitful beans.
Upon a curved light borne
he hones his friendships
as slivers of glass.
Reflections all so tall
and all so disavowed;
nor allowed the looser noose
of the absolute.
What is that fragrance passing
for a freedom.
What is that passing need
as the world turns,
as the days of our lives burn,
as we move as one multitude
beneath a blanket of toes
with our noses wrapped.
Worrying, scurrying for
the last scrap of paper
on which is printed not
a single famous image
but is destined
to carry our waste.
In a nation of "point the finger"'
she pondered joining the crowd.
As in the famed Roman Coliseum
she imagined herself in full glory.
Giving a glorious "thumbs down!"
After all, she told her arrogant
herself,
as she put a crown of leaves on her
head:
"Those foolish Christians need to die!"
Yet a voice deep within her, made her
wonder.......why?
'twas in the gods of Rome she believed,
Who was this Christ, these fools died
for?
Centuries have come and gone, her
crown of leaves decayed, too!
Today not only are Christians killed,
but millions of others have died,in the
milieu.
The new god is love of self, above all else!
That name, Christ, best not be spoken.
He, who died for all humanity, still a
most despised personage!
We honor false gods, read literature
assuring us of polytheism.
Then cry and gnash our teeth, when
statues are toppled, morals are a joke.
And our only satisfaction comes from
booze, hot sex or a fast toke.
June 17, 2020
11am PST
Poem # 1,249
My poetess friend, a shy personage
Sips tea while composing her versenage
Ah, but now she’s deciding
T’would be more exciting
To marry, for better or worsenage.
She wrote all the vows they would say
At church, when arrived the big day.
Hubby hadn’t rehearsed
So in his vows, he cursed!
Made bride and priest turn ashengray.
She learned hubby wasn’t poetical
Her haiku just made him upsettical,
She’d read her new sonnet,
But he didn’t wonnet
He’d go drive his V-8 Corvettical!
I was at a carnival when I saw a fortune teller
Dressed in a very colorful ankle length skirt
With a matching peasant blouse and bandana
Who was saying come gaze in to my crystal
Ball.
It will show you what you want answers to
Most of all.
Would it be marriage? Nah. You wouldn't
Settle for average.
How about finances which are all the rage?
Could it be the one and only love of your heart?
Who will be with you til death do you part?
Maybe you like to travel as a famous personage.
Awe! It's business. I can show you an inside
Leverage.
None of the above. Your a cynic?
I will prove this is all authentic.
Nope not in this age.
My pocketbook is not big enough to find out
Whether you are or are not a fortune teller
Or sage.
I love thee
for thine mortality
a personage ever so enticing
an imagery of passion
I love thee
that know no doubts
or any monstrosities
as thy love for thee
is breathing of each day,
firm as if the walls of China
I love thee
when thy eyes set upon his
aye from this point in time
I love htee
inasmuch as I love thyself
I love thee
heedless of any rationale
bound towards infinity
In My Brokenness
It is in my brokenness that I seek
Your face Lord as never before,
it is in my brokenness that I find You
as I open every door in my life to You as never before.
It is through my pain that I see my God that
You allow things to happen in my life not to hurt me,
but You allow them in my life
to bring me to my knees.
And when I call upon You and Your answer comes
and You hold me now so close,
it’s in my brokenness my Wonderful Lord
that You reveal to me Your personage and love for me the most.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
February 2, 2007
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