The rain comes heavy
Ascending from clouds saturated with summer
A river appears in my driveway
It follows the slope of the land
fills a shallow pond to it’s brink
Frogs delight blending a throated chorus to the melody of the storm
Thunder, the handclap of God,
Summons the Crescendo - lightening bolts -
No rainbows at night
An elm, drunk from heaven’s nectar,
stumbles to the ground
Her branches alter the river’s path
Filling the hole where her majestic trunk once stood
Out of death,
Life appears
Marks can get you a degree or fame, But life doesn't play the same game. You memorize laws, quote the rules Still stumble when life bends the tools You can top every subject and win every race, Yet still lose direction in life’s lonely maze. You chase good grades because that’s what they praise, Yet no one teaches how to survive the hard days. You polished essays, following every rule But life has no syllabus and that’s it’s cruelest rule When the bills knock hard or the gas stove sparks, No one ask’s u about your calculus flair They'll ask you to mend what life tears apart, Not just recite what you've learnt by heart. They'll need you to fix a flat tire's plight, or cook a roti when the stove's not right. So, focus on skills that truly matter, Not just chapters that make your grades flatter. The answers that matter don't come from a page, They find you somewhere between fear and age Perhaps, Books may give you a career or name, But only wisdom teaches you how to play life's game. - MOKSHA JAIN
In the picture you seemed far more fair,
Only smiling, only there.
Must it always be adorned attire?
Just behold the soul is there.
Not every moment is a dear one near,
Yet in the silence, she stands there.
In love, I’ve become like Huzaifa at last,
She rules the heights, her throne is there.
Peace itself has turned away from me,
Now let it be death or her, there.
" A Godly man pursues a woman
Agape
to glorify God
I am a Godly Man
in pursuit of a woman
to glorify God
Agape
I a Godly Man pursues a woman to glorify God
And the only man pursues a woman
to glorify God
Just as I am just as like Boaz
Love as Boaz I am going to glorify God
Through the pursuit of a woman, Agape
I am going to purpose Glory by God
Through my action for His glory in Him purpose
And I am that I'm all such as I a Godly Man
Pursuing a woman to glorify God
Fearfully and wonderfully made
Beautiful creative a Godly Man in pursuit
Of a woman to glorify God that so I am
Agape just I am pursuit liken just as Boaz
Agape
Here so I am loving as Boaz "
10/8/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2023
I said No when you pushed me on the bed.
I said No when you didn't listen to what I said.
I said No but you were to strong.
I said No but you still did me wrong.
I said No can't you hear the words I say.
I said No but you did it anyway.
I said No I will carry this throughout my life.
I said No but your only excuse was your my wife.
I love you when your quiet
I love you like this
Chilled and laid back
Peace at long last
I love you when your playing
I love you wrestling too
Pulling on a sock
A tug of war is cool
Archies giggling and the snorting
You'd think he was a horse
Snorting and sniffing at the cat
Upon the wall
Barking Mad
She swaggers her tail
walking tall
Archies just a young lad after all
Uncle rocco takes it all in his stride
His coat of black and white
A look of peace and pride
Bounding like a big puppy through the music hall ...
Here comes Rocco
For some Rock and Roll ....
I want to be synthesis,
be thesis...
I want to feel a lot
a sum, but being one...
Being of the ground and the air
be from the sky and be from the sea
to be, crazy higid... mentally sane
corpore sano
lex sed lexis...
be a dreamed metaphor,
live pleonasm,
active particle of the universe,
towards the infinity of God...
be of love forever
To be a totally spiritual being... !
QUINTESSENCE
an absence
of
fervent
intensity
in miniature
with
infinite
equivocation
an ambiance
of impressioned
sensations
a resurgence
of an elide
intermix
apparently
remote
from
abiding concern
obliquely
descended into
a preoccupation
with the sensual
such
eloquent
perfection to
enlighten
the fusion
of continuity
with cohesion
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Ocean of storms within' my sleep
The sun is white with envy
The sky is raining blood
All the hatred with the flood
And visions I rather not keep.
As I relentlessly endure the fears and screams
I become shocked in silent trances of temptations only sound
Which only comes within' my dreams,
As I begin to look around...
Around at life's transition, And death's position
For me to awake from this lie,
I need to say goodbye,
Say goodbye to the ocean of storms, Say hello to pride above
For now love will take its course and replace those visions for sure.
Kld 2002
Being just four ,that loud knock on the frosted, front glass door!
The fierce ringing of the handbell meant only one thing!
That Santa was here with toys, but we have first had to sing.
Then sit on the floor, each had questions to answer and more.
I was so frightened, I would get a black lump of coal?
I looked into Santas soft, blue eyes as I sat on his shiny red thighs.
I relaxed,answered all his questions and with relief, deeply sighed.
But I sensed, Santa had a warm and loving soul.
We cousins, Dennis,Bruce,Madelyn and I, then returned to our places.
Aunt Helen played the piano and we sang to God honoring this season.
As Christmas in our home had a religious reason.
Santa passed out our presents, not one of us got a lump of coal.
Santa had homemade cake and coffee, waved goodbye and left.
He filled us with good, Christmas cheer.
Not one of us was present less nor bereft!
~~~~~~~~~
In fond memory of my younger Cousins, Bruce and Madelyn, who
loved all people, life and the wonder of this planet!
Both are in heaven!
Cousin Panagiota
12/19/2021
Take my hand.. Walk with me..
In your memory lane..
To the day that we met..
To the beginning and to the end..
Days went by and months past by..
The affection and the love..
I had for you just died..
Things never worked as planed..
Yet you never understand...
I knew we were not meant to be..
I hated the feeling of being traped...
Every second I wanted to be free..
Its my fault I know its me..
Beacuse I love my freedom..
And just being me..
I know you loved me but..
I always felt I was not free..
Not free enough to be me..
I never wanted to be traped..
I always wanted to be me..
My freedom... Myself...
Always matters to me..
If you ever understood me..
I would have never ask you to leave..
When you came back after months....
Thats the reason i never wanted you back...
Beacuse i know.. I will be traped..
And this time i take you back..
I know i will have to live..
A prisoners i never want to be..
Everyone loves to be loved..
Yet its important I say it now..
I am sorry for everything.. But..
I dont want to loose myself my freedom
for Love to be loved!!
Dilu Wijegunasekara
29/10/21
If we run out of gas, can we fill up somewhere
A station for such and to drop off our old foul air
Might have trouble hiring
Coz of the hazy o-ring
Something to consider as we age, c'est la guerre!
Pick it
Up that
There in
Front of
You then
Throw it
Over
There
Behind
You where you
Once were
Before
When you
Stepped out
Your door and
Walked
Passed
Other
People's glass
Houses all the while
Smiling knowing that you
Threw the first
Stone at
Your
Very
Own
Quatrains of Hibernal 2020
By David J Walker
I
The hibernal task of passing a year of Retributions
Scribes of the Anno Mundi write in prose of those who are left behind
Those who did not believe the mask and the lambs' blood
Were one and the same
II
The solution was said to be written on a paper ballot
And the change in the balance of power
would bear salvation to a
nation still divided by dry ideas
III
The joy of the seasons were seen, if at all,
In a black and white rendering
Of the world with faint memory of
Any other color
IV
The end, of course
Would not be the end
But the beginning of an undetermined
Measure of recovery
A golden sunset setting before them.
Two young teens bewitched, hardly in boredom.
The young teen girl in the soft, coral knee-highs stood.
Oh, if only a kiss on her lips thought he, if I only could.
They stood in wonderment of the tall, wispy weeds of
their sunset Spring.
That undulating moment of sacred, sexual awakening.
He, in his new Chinos and shirt, so vibrantly rooster red.
Matched the libidinous thoughts that danced about in his
tousled, boyish head.
The trees seemed to bow, creating a private love cave.
The boy, leaned over, and upon her lips, the softest,
sweetest, cotton-candy kiss gave.
May 29, 2020
3:30 pm PST
Poem# 1,304
Quinceanera Categories
Definition | What is Quinceanera in Poetry?
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