season
rolls on
hot days’
blaze strays
blue sky
clouds fly
hued scene
fleets in
awesome
autumn
grass few
dons dew
ground calls
bronze falls
trees own
bare crown
leaves wilt
lose lilt
they fold
film gold
rustling
leaves sing
fall song
prolongs
golden
garden
Monet
display
soft dawn awakens forest air
the hush of morning everywhere
old pines remember what we’ve lost
roots hold truths untouched by the frost
above them, plants grow in splendor
what we’ve lost old pines remember
the river hums its ancient tune
a silver thread beneath the moon
silent songs come from silver tongues
its ancient tune the river hums
beneath, the melody prolongs
from silver tongues come silent songs
bush and heath, give a cooling sheath
the melody prolongs, beneath
through shifting light on leaf and bough
the earth still keeps its patient vow
A product of regret and shame,
Traveling on broken paths, stained by sin.
Spreading sickness with each conjured flame.
Crimson dust, cobalt cosmic skies,
The endless black prolongs the harvest.
What is a shadow lord without his endless darkness?
Has thou not earned haunting spirits?
Malicious intent lurking over thy shoulders,
Cloaked in a facade, the decaying heart lies.
Not even in slumber will you know peace.
Such power is wasted.
Rituals to fuel this poison,
Undead militia, this pitiful bone brigade.
No matter how many gather together—
Worms are still worms.
Must this always end in violence?
There is nothing left.
Summon your perfect solution.
Alone in darkness, yet you crave a kingdom.
What do you have to say?
Tell me in worm words.
Heart:
Let's try again, na.
It’s been so long
since I felt anything.
Mind:
Trust me—
you will suffer.
Let it go.
Heart:
But I still suffer.
Mind:
You won’t be able to bear it.
Just try to live like this.
Heart:
I am trying.
But it’s more haunting this way.
I can’t even remember
how the last hour passed.
Mind:
Forget it.
You don’t need to remember.
Heart:
But living
isn’t even needed.
Mind:
Really?
Did you forget
you only failed
to kill yourself?
Heart:
I was just afraid
of blood.
Mind:
Good.
Then suffer
until you gather
the courage.
Heart:
I don’t want courage for death.
I want courage
to heal,
to feel,
to be happy.
Mind:
And when it breaks you again?
Heart:
...
(Silence grows.)
(Numbness prolongs.)
Traveling dimensions,
My intention is the engine,
Ascension is in session.
Lessons in the stream,
Become the theme,
You seem to be seeing.
You're dreaming this being into being,
Agreeing to the terms,
As you squirm through the day.
Remember you're here to play,
To get away from your immensity.
The intensity was meant to rise,
Surprise,
God sees through your eyes.
You are the disguise,
Wise up to the power you hold,
Be bold,
It's more precious then gold.
Whoever told you different,
Feared your unique imprint.
Each instant you wait,
Prolongs your fate,
The gate is open.
I'm woven through reality,
My energy stronger then gravity,
Traveling through space and time.
My rhymes a door for you to explore,
The part of your core you're here for.
Its the source of your dreams,
Keeping us on the same team.
An energy stream,
That can't be seen,
So no one can get between,
The truth that you've seen.
I am free. And by this feather
Will I be proven right.
Taking up which prolongs writing's
Wild imaginative flight.
It seem to have started when she was a kid
She never could do what the other students did
They seen her as strange while teachers seen who she was
No one was able understand the unique things that she does
She always had struggled with the person she was on the inside
Relationships formed with others always seemed to collide
There was always this search or mission to find the right one
Friendships never last but always stopped where they begun
This lost girl eventually grew into a lost adult
Losing life's trophy doing what she was taught
Put others first and put yourself in second place
Each time she tried, things blew up in her face
For years she has wondered where she belongs
Through each friendship her pain just prolongs
She thought about shutting out the world to remain alone
Thinking she would see better days now that's she's grown
She's been lost for some time now seeking social improvements
Instead of a lifelong friend she receives emotional punishments
I won't tell you my secret, just teasingly repeat
A host of hints, told by others, if you'll be discreet.
My monikers, plentiful as flowers in a field,
Tell you not that which you're longing...hopes to be revealed.
History books may have reported that I have died,
Except, I'm speaking to you now. Can that be denied?
Come, let me disclose something that may give you a chill.
Old? I was born centuries ago. I'm living still.
Until you know, this gripping mystery prolongs.
Now, know that I wrote arias and English songs.
That's only one of the clever ways I entertain.
Oh, I am a genius. Some say I was insane.
Fantastically, my books show how to defy fate -
Sure, I can create wealth, extend life and levitate.
Travelling far, born of a Transylvanian prince.
Gifted in speech, I'm a learned man, as I evince.
Enigmatic, I may be from Portugal or Spain.
Rarely, did anyone, such grand multitudes contain.
My accomplishments include sciences, arts, and such,
And compared to my learning, nobody knows that much.
In some cafe, in a bar, or on a crowded street -
No one must know of that fine day when we two should meet.
Trump's MDs now searching the pool
Know organ transplant prolongs rule
For match perfection
Without rejection
His kidney must come from a mule
Drowning in sorrow
because you are leaving me.
I jumped in too soon.
As I flail about,
will you toss me a life ring,
or a concrete block?
Both are solutions
to my current state of mind
over losing you.
The first prolongs it,
the latter, ultimately,
brings on my demise.
I need to purge this
constant feeling of longing
for something that’s gone.
This stagnation mode
compromises my future
and pulls me under.
So, just hold the ring
and let the concrete block sink.
I’m fine on my own.
I’ll want for nothing.
I’ll seek others to swim with.
I’ll float without you.
OVERCOMING THE STORM
Into the storm I must venture, knowing that any attempt to flee only prolongs the ravages.
Like any storm, it is relentless and destructive, just as a well-organized group of savages.
It rips and tears at the flesh with sharp talons, trying to gouge deeper into the muscle.
Perceived as high and lofty, it disregards those trying to survive by a legitimate hustle.
The storm of the century has crept into the present timeframe,
offering nothing but clouded truths, in-your-face deceptions, and false narratives.
While poverty sinks its talons deeper into the benefits of Veterans of the United States and the honorably retired, there is no remorse.
It is time to load up all the ammunition of facts and truth and attach it to a rocket.
Push the button, light the match, and for president of the United States, I nominate Jasmine Crockett.
When time springs forward, and light prolongs the day
When insects like bees, mosquitoes, and wasps, gallop
into Spring, armed with weapons to annoy and sting
When birds fly North, and bears awake to hunt
When the chilly winds of Winter grow quiet,
And the Spring Season shouts for joy
When darkness fades for fear of the light
When hidden shadows are clearly exposed
When roaring thunder and frightful lightning
Give way for the entry of clear blue skies
When war and conflict succumb to calm and peace
When dastardly death unequivocally bows to life,
And cries of "Crucify him!" are replaced with the
more subdued sounds of, "My Lord and My God".
Antimony Foolishness
Age 51 is often when one’s unable,
To buy the status quo, it’s old and needs mending.
New sports car, how youthful! Refuting the label,
Of premature old age, gray hair pending.
Girl friends need to be added to the stable,
Young women, their company lending,
Immortal aura when sharing their bar table.
What invokes “against aloneness”, or “befriending”?
You’ll find a word “antimonos” in Greek fable.
The element Antimony, #51, is alloy tending,
By emulating its properties, “Romeo” is enabled.
By experimenting with the valence one’s sending,
Reactions occur, some of which may be stable,
But it’s hard to tell if another is bonding or pretending,
Especially, to induce attraction, one increases spending.
Remember to study and use the Periodic Table,
It prolongs youth, the illusion of vitality never ending.
© Chaim Wilson
“Activity makes my life colorful. To be quiescent is relaxing, but when it prolongs, I feel I am dead.” – By Poet
Day after day passes
With rarely a purpose to fulfill
Thoughts after thoughts flit,
With nothing to hold in memory.
I am stuck on the lonely highway of life.
No addendum!
Up the long path of life,
From joy to pain,
And from pain to joy,
I have been oscillating all these years.
Now my mind is empty.
No exhilarating emotions.
No vexing thoughts
No nagging concerns
No convulsing tidal swaying
Like a placid lake with no ripples
Like a sponge with water squeezed out
Like a kite refusing to soar high,
I am now a bough on a sturdy stem,
Resisting to be touched by the wind!
You might think I have learned,
To look at life with a level brow
And enjoy the stillness of my mind,
When the mad scramble in me dies.
Perhaps you are right.
But I detest this mental hiatus,
This numbing languorousness,
This sickening emotional torpor!
Am I becoming a log over the moving currents?
From this quiescent state, I look for a release.
Crimson pulse beneath the skin,
Whispers in moonlight, secrets within.
Brushfire crackles, fingers yearn,
Hungry canvas, shadows burn.
Ink bleeds, a siren's song,
Cracked clay whispers, where longing prolongs.
Chiseled stone, a lover's sigh,
In every curve, a tearful cry.
Moonlight sculpts, a lover's touch,
Clay whispers secrets, yearns for so much.
Every note, a heart laid bare,
Symphony on canvas, a silent prayer.
No words, just echoes in the night,
Burning brushstrokes, bathed in light.
Hidden yearning, a whispered plea,
In every form, an aching symphony.
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