There are days we live only for others
and happy to share in ours,
words of devotion
even scars.
Though I never presumed to know
or even understand..
only pretend.
But this time's not the same
this unshakable thing,
like a pain,
is not pretending.
A feeling that wakes you from a deep sleep
real, whatever that is..
transcending all moments that came before
you.
Although still hear
so clear, another voice,
one that claims to be sane
'I didn't want this'.
Damn all this weakness.
The other says 'show me..,
do not tell me in a whisper'.
Like a drumbeat in the desert wind..
love is hard of hearing.
It's the singing birds that delight me
But it's the bees and wasps that anoy me
It's the rare appearance of snakes that disturb me
I wish that they would never come anywhere near me
The ants, bugs, mosquitoes, and trickets discomfort me
The colorful roses and budding trees excite me
The country quiet and setting sun soothe me
Some things are 'fixed', and we learn to live with them
They are niether all bad nor presumed to be all good
When you add it all up, 'It's simply the balance of nature'
The sky broke, it did not rain,
the clouds did not part,
a faded blue did not fade away,
behind that, an intimation,
a featureless back-lit gray
watched.
Eyes blinked, heads turned,
a silent cacophony plucked
at a collective deafness.
Some presumed, other's assumed,
but all knew
that the space between us, and the All,
was as fragile as the air in our lungs
or those turbulent skies
behind our eyes.
Haughty Tiger was blatantly vain
She presumed that poor Ass had no brain
Ass stayed cool when hunters came
And pretended to be lame
But Miss Knowall was bound to a chain.
- - - - - - - - -
A dark soul long immersed in a grey world
Awakened to a spirit’s shining beam
And foolishly presumed as he uncurled
His destiny was to possess her gleam.
The dark youth’s folly then was slowly dimmed
By reason, sweat, philosophy and years.
Where once his hopes of lightness brimmed,
In time’s passage, they all but disappeared.
When once more fate flashed her bright rarity,
It was not for him to have, but to see.
Blossoms line my laden descent
down to the perked watering hole
that plays empty theater,
awaiting my creative path,
a royal welcome -
represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity,
of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth.
Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity,
Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views.
Season facets a wild cherry scent to your vantage point
of attitude and beauty proximity, of dripping cues.
Draw the liquid curtain on the canvas
of insanely intimate hues.
To a crash on the rocks of the mind-blown
by windswept rescue chasing you behind a messaged massage,
Baywatch, Oasissed Dunes and slow Djin mirage.
Nature is no stranger to being the muse,
Rebel with a cause,
cause maybe this time you stay
and snuggle awhile, sailor.
So I am told
Or lead to believe
As I am not an actual Doctor
Have studied Biology
Or any form of Medicine
But what I have heard of before
Is that Doctor's upon completion
Of their studies once qualified
Swear a
Hypothetical Oath
So simply in this regard
Can they in all good consciousness
Agree to perform
Sex reassignment surgery
Given that I assume or hope
Surely you wouldn't be able to pass
Any medical boards examination
If you cannot determine the difference
Between the sexes
Male or Female
Surely that above all
Human Anatomy
Day 1
Probably wouldn't even be covered
As it would and maybe be both overlooked
Assumed and presumed
As and should merely be taken from granted
Rapt in the familiar fragrance, jasmine rose,
the allure of its passionate quintessence
swirling full circle to its enchanting close.
I smiled, the flower mimicking your essence
presumed itself a suitable contestant
against power of which you are attestant.
Not today, nor lifetime, can flowers compare
to the bewitchment of your hypnotic air.
There is a famous story that I could relate,
About a lady picking fruit that changed all human fate.
This was the first lady that our dear Lord did create.
She succumbed to temptation and involved her mate.
The Lord had told them kindly not to pick forbidden fruit,
From the one tree in the orchard , but that didn’t suit.
Eve was her name and while the Bible doesn’t say.
It is presumed it was an apple, that she picked that day.
Not only was she tempted, she convinced Adam too, to eat.
Did they find the fruit better than other apples? more sweet?
Temptation in this case was the devil himself that temped Eve.
In the form of a serpent he came and continued to deceive.
God was not pleased that His command, they did not obey.
He sent them from paradise, they were not allowed to stay.
Man goes on being led into temptation this we surely know.
We like to put the blame on Eve from all those years ago.
The apples that we pick against God’s Holy word today.
Are not at all pleasant as the devil still leads us astray.
We bare false witness, kill and steal, lust and cheat.
So as you see that first apple ever picked was not so sweet.
Shirley girl it’s been a thrill
Let me introduce you to Bill
He has a dog called Jet
He’s a solid bet
You’re dumping me after an hour
One hour
Sixty minutes of bliss
How you reminisced
Your ex Ted
Shot himself in the head
Mother Jill
Lying at the bottom of the hill
Father John
Somewhere in the Amazon
Grandad Cain
Threw himself under a train
Granny Flo
Where did she go
Not forgetting brother Fred
Lost, presumed dead
Then you mention your lesbian lover Di
Who right away I’m thinking
How did she die
Not realising, you must be Bi
Then just as I’m getting my head round that
You mention the cat
Is there a dog
What about the fog
Oh, that’s what caused the bus to disappear into the bog
You saved the lollipop man Jack
Well, that’s a blessing
What
Died next day, heart attack
Shirley girl
Don’t think of me as a bit of a moaner
But Jesus girl
You're a bloody Jonah.
Our my Schade
As recently as this
Father's Day Sunday
Sent me a message
Saying to my
Honorary Dad
Although I don't and am unable
to say it
I hope you know you are my
Honorary Dad
And because of our family history
I instantaneously both assumed and
also presumed
She was indeed in fact obviously
talking about my father her grandad
She looked after when he was dying
And she was a very young child
And as our conversation gradually
continued
She later and myself also said
Life is pretty simple its mostly all about
Paying attention and listening
And case in point I unfortunately
Provided her with undeniable proof
That I sadly myself whilst talking
a good game was not
Because when it comes to me
I quite obviously have a blind spot
But that does not get me off the hook
Or is in any way or form
A valid or genuine
Excuse
If anything it just proves
The point
I am no more better
But should as obviously does expect
Than from her own Dad
The echoes are heard from far,
But it emanates from within .
I just wanna be heard from you.
Through your definition of my personality.
I've got to find and protect the link,
Which will ensure continuity of our story.
There exist an intrigued force and connection,
Which pulls our hearts together to focus
While revolving around a common goal.
Courage ,love ,empathy,kindness
Are what I see when looking through you.
I wanna learn and imbibe
The details to love you more.
So as to project a reflection of our presumed future.
Sailing atop waves, this life in full bloom,
Upon the shoreline, the lighthouse forewarns,
Darkened clouds hover, the impending doom.
Waves still like mirror, glass shimmering womb,
Life in full sail, ship commissioned as born,
Sailing atop waves, this life in full bloom.
Anxiety encased in light and tomb,
To seek help ashore, sounding its ship horn,
Darkened clouds hover, the impending doom.
A lighthouse keeper, sheds light on the gloom,
Resilient sails, however war-torn,
Sailing atop waves, this life in full bloom.
Ship shifts its rudder, evade the presumed,
Rocks stick out of waves, for whom will we mourn,
Darkened clouds hover, the impending doom.
Anxiety strikes all, even those plumed,
Through the lighthouse keeper, trouble be borne.
Sailing atop waves, this life in full bloom.
Darkened clouds hover, the impending doom.
The Little Girl's Garden
A finagle of young fairies with colors red, green, yellow, indigo, white and orange with glittering wings are playing in a garden very close to an old house door.
Two hours later, they saw a little girl coming out of the house, holding a rubber ducky on her way to the garden. They are observing the girl as their playing is interrupted.
The little girl felt something strange about the garden because all of her toys that she left there two days ago are not scattered. She recalled arranging them in line. She just presumed it could be the strong winds that swayed them or a small animal may have played with her toys. So she collected all her toys and arranged them in one line again. She put her rubber ducky at the end of the line. And then she left the garden.
Four of the six fairies are staring at the other two -- giggling. They are the ones who scrambled the young girl's toys.
Seems a randy young man joined a zoom
with his camera turned off, he presumed;
his bottle of lotion
caused such a commotion,
the participants all left the room.
----------
Yup, yesterday's twitter - I'll leave the link off that one. Could have been a Florida man, but that's unconfirmed :-)
Related Poems