Soon after I reached adolescence,
my father gave me a brief advisory
on the pitfalls of feminine “geography”
based on his personal experience.
Dear boy, he began, if at all possible,
keep your eyes pure and blind to all
facets of a woman’s embodiment
in particular her two most prominent,
and unless you’re blind, I mean her breasts
more so if they compare to Mt. Everest.
Any attempt to scale such breathless heights
to achieve near-unconscious delights,
you risk an avalanche of such a scale
you’ll surely die by asphyxiation,
comparable to a guppy’s suffocation
under tons of blubber of a whale.
Think of the most beautiful woman
You've ever laid your eyes upon
And the feeling of passion it stirred inside
Men have felt since the very first dawn
Only speaking from personal experience
But I'm sure most men would agree
Nothing's as exciting as this loving vision
Of a gorgeous woman, guaranteed
A primordial instinct takes over our soul
Our thoughts are clouded with lust
Of making love on a warm summer's eve
Her face the moonlight does brush
A scene of passion takes over our minds
This fantasy her vision evokes
The feeling of two bodies in perfect rhythm
Sounds of love emit from our throats
Think of the most beautiful woman
You've ever laid your eyes upon
And the feeling of passion it stirred inside
Men have felt since the very first dawn
Art creates balance in my life
it's not regards my genius creativity
The search for the right line or a brilliant sentence
an expression that challenges myself
I wish to decorate the world in delightful colors
dare to stretch personal experience up to something universal
A self-taught painter who creates abstract works
where the soul emerges during the process
As eternal testament that has neither beginning nor closing
My life ... my choice
Who tells this narrative story?
the painter, the poet ... a little human
Why is it?
the louder
and more ballistic
my self-righteousness
offensively becomes
The more
at night
I feel self-loathing,
when all is quiet
except dark ruminations
filling my silent bedroom
overwhelming my mind
and body.
Why is it?
we RightWing worry
that nonviolent communication,
too lovingly applied,
would leave us defenseless
against colonizing predators?
And do not worry enough
about LeftWing social anxiety
chronic worrying trauma tales
of violent communications,
too profoundly
ubiquitously applied,
leaving us offensively polarized
by inside fascist autocratic hate
hoarding angry power
and fear filled paralysis?
While unallied corporate fat cat
capitalists,
sell defense industry prophylactic lies,
mad ecocide
predicting global anthroprivileged
demise.
Our inhumane history of violence
leaves uncontested
a healthy silent mystery
of preference
for compassionate personal experience.
It was during the summer of 1974,
That three states came beckoning me.
One state pointed North; the other East.
The third state was directing me South.
One was 95 miles away; one was 790 miles;
And the last one beckoning me was 608 miles.
I paced the floor and prayed for divine guidance.
I considered the closest one, but still said, "no".
To the farthest one, I quickly said, "Thanks, but no".
Although I was not like Jonah because to me, God never
said, "Go". However, looking back, I must confess that,
Even in prayer, I was closed-minded about a big Eastern state.
Although I said "No" to the Northern state, I later had serious
second thoughts regarding that Northern state. And I must also confess
that I never reconsidered the Eastern state. In my personal experience,
and as I understand Christianity and the workings of The Holy Spirit;
Even With divine guidance, the human spirit is still involved. And in the
case of one imperfect like myself, going South was a real venture in faith.
I said yes to the Southern state that beckoned me, and God was well pleased.
091823PS
I often hear,
"It's tough getting old."
I never hear
"It's tougher not getting old"
because, I suppose,
those who might have spoken
from personal experience
are no longer with us.
I am becoming too familiar
with aches
pains
losses
loneliness
of ageing alone
All of which invite
my thought,
"It's tough staying old"
And happy
healthy
unconditionally prosperous
elder wise
mindful
fully engaged
compassionately warm
win/win resilient
Anticipating this sufficient day
more than anxious
about tomorrow's losses
pains
solitary encroaching disabilities,
dark nights.
That said,
staying old
feels much easier
and lighter
and brighter
and curiously mightier
than fighting
vying
trying to stay ignorant
and young.
I have no doubt that every night, I dream.
But most times, by morning I forget, it seems.
Sometimes, if I try really hard, I will recall.
Even then, there are bits and pieces, and that is all.
In my experience, dreams speak of today and yesterday.
It's about 'my take' on something that has happened.
Or, it speaks to issues presently going on inside of me.
It could be a conscience or unconscious, overt or latent fear.
A dream might be born out of what we have consumed in our brains.
Some dreams don't always speak a clear and precise language
and have to be interpreted. These dreams will often speak of
the future, but that has not been my personal experience.
I believe in general that God has provided dreams for several
reasons; one of them being to give us comforting reassurance.
Think of the most beautiful woman
You've ever laid your eyes upon
And the feeling of passion it stirred inside
Men have felt since the very first dawn
Only speaking from a personal experience
But I'm sure most men would agree
Nothing's as exciting as this loving vision
Of a gorgeous woman, guaranteed
A primordial instinct takes over our soul
Our thoughts are clouded with lust
Of making love on a warm summer's eve
Her face the moonlight does brush
A scene of passion takes over our souls
This fantasy her vision evokes
The feeling of two bodies in perfect rhythm
Sounds of love emit from our throats
Think of the most beautiful woman
You've ever laid your eyes on
And the feeling of passion it stirred inside
Men have felt since the very first dawn
If in July the northern hemisphere
Had its Christmas celebration
It'd be summertime instead of winter
And a most peculiar sensation
But let me put you in the know
About a summer Christmas time
I speak from personal experience
from New Zealands southern clime
No snow for us, not rugged up tight
No Christmas turkey roast
It's way too hot for any of that
We go swimming at the coast
Jandals, T-shirts, sunnies and shorts
Are the order of the day
Strawberries, ice cream, BBQs -
Can't imagine it any other way!
1 August 2022
Rhymezone
Where to start
together more than still apart?
On our enlightened circling parts
and empowering pyramid wholes
of strategic win/win choice
Triangulation mediated default
where Earth's survival is of greatest health potential
Here in my personal experience memory Space
Now in your continuously unfolding
eco-political
multi-regenerational TaoEncircling Ways,
except probably still too eager
for your most resonant praise
Bicamerally healthy future imaged
wealthy past re-membering
re-connecting courage and nonviolence
re-ligioning interfaith green co-interdependence
CoOperatively owned
and managed
health imaged
re-imagined EarthCapital wealthy
democratically empowered
enlightening green communal Time.
the concept of a "hi-ku moment" ,personal experience provides the sole motive for recording an aesthetic moment of a timeless feeling of enlightened harmony as the poet's nature and the environment are unified in impressionist brevity with short succinct syntax,sans superfluous words, avoidance of metaphor and similes ,where an emphasis on imagery over exposition becomes ..genius... using an economy of words ..to paint a multi-tiered painting, without "telling all".
NHS
Just three letters
That represents just three words that mean more than a profession, that mean the best on earth.
I have personal experience of their dedicated care and compassion. I would shine a candle for them in the darkest night. I would for them stand and fight with all my might.
NHS
Not just three letters
Not just representing three words
Without their care and compassion we’d be in so much hurt
So, next time you get the opportunity to be thankful; you better stand and clap. Because these hero’s amongst us for you would never take the slack.
Just three letters
But not just three things. Dr’s, Nurses and carers and all the support that their care brings.
Be thankful that they are there because no matter what colour your skin, you’ll get the very best care that humanity can bring.
I once had a little boy
But he was only here on loan
God in his infinite wisdom
Decided to call him home
I loved my darling little boy
I loved him every day
Right up to the very moment
He sadly passed away
My little boy caught meningitis
Completely took him over
Left him fighting for his life
Unconscious in a coma
Prayers and vigils were said and done
But alas to no avail
My little boy died in my arms
In his fight, did not prevail
I once had a little boy
He was only here on loan
God in his infinite wisdom
Decided to call him home
©Gary Wayne Hill, 2020
PLEASE NOTE - THIS POEM IS NOT FROM PERSONAL EXPERIENCE
By personal experience, I didn't even know. Based on a memory and I
fooled myself. Why should I follow a fake dream ? Was put in artificial
coma for two weeks. I have changed a lot since the accident. Now I
know what really matters. Things change so fast, life can suddenly turn.
It's a fact I'm paralyzed from the hips down. A settlement without hatred
and tears. The blood is still pulsing in my veins ... the heart is like
a vibrating rose petal in the wind
new goals to strive for
the life was turned upside down -
angels danced with pride
28.08.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Dim empty tunnel
thundering sounds fill my head
Fast midnight tube approaching -
am I ready to jump ...
suicidal thoughts abounding
SECOND EDITION OF WAYRA Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Written for contest - not from personal experience!
8/16/19
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