Quoted Poems

SEEDS OF PERPETUITY

SEEDS OF PERPETUITY 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just beneath the surface of our daily lives, a deep current flows, the subtle murmur of a forgotten agreement, the shimmering echo of the original dream held within each soul. This dream is a fragile thing, flickering in and out frequently doused by the clamor of the world, immediate needs, expectations, and urgent distractions. Yet, the soul’s yearning remains, a seedling just beneath the surface of consciousness. It tugs at the edges of our thoughts, whispers of what could be, of what should be.

It's the reason we chase certain passions, feel drawn to specific people, and experience that unsettling sense of déjà vu – a fleeting echo of the life we were meant to lead. When we remember even a small piece of why we came to life, we pull the seeds of perpetuity farther into the world of time. "The inner seed keeps trying to sprout, but often our fate places us at a crossroads or nails us to a cross before we pay proper attention."

seeds sprout from darkness
emerge from remembering
seeds of perpetuity

*Quoted from Michael Meade

WASHED AWAY BY THE TIDE

WASHED AWAY BY THE TIDE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I see the vestiges of yesterday,
echoes of mistakes,
like footprints in the sand,
that the time of time washed away.

Every mistake,  
is like a grain of sand on the beach,
a sandcastle of errors,
mistakes that the tide of time washes away.

the wind of self-forgiveness
pulls me up, propelling me 
beyond the limits
of mistakes I made yesterday. 

I hear the wind, realizing…

the sky does not stop the dawn
for the clouds that came in.
nor does the river mourn
the stones that once obstructed its flow.

the beautiful truth—

*There is so much more to me
than my faults.
I am the promise 
of who I am yet to be.

*Note:“You’re so much more than your mistakes.” quoted from Dr. Wayne Dyer

The Post-Game Interview

     Indomitable

     Indefatigable

     Impenetrable

     Immovable

     Immense  

     Incomparable 

     Interior Lineman

      ~ Quoted, “Hi, Mom’

For This Man I Spoke Out

I spoke out

A yearning calls
But, is it of the heart
Could be a yearning of a selfish pride
A secret to gain self-glory
A trek of agony 
To forge through this life

For the glory of self-satisfaction 
Is a short lived story
Once again with shovel in hand
You dig deep to portray a fictitious facade to begin your story 

And then along comes the day
To face all your truths
To remember all your secrets 
And walk the road you've paved
[]
I saw this man subdued in chains
A life of ridicule he lived each day
Perhaps, born with a heart of love
But, the world and all it's expectations 
placed him within
a dark crevasse

Be careful Oh people
Of all the words you choose to say
For some people are vulnerable 
And the cost is more than they can pay

Could It be a lonely soul dreaming of a chance
To fit in and find acceptance...
Hide quoted text
for the world and all its trickery hands out murmurous words of doubt

Alone and desperate

For this man
I spoke out

Tuning Out

I tune out the news
Just as much as I can,
So I won’t have to hear
When the s*^# hits the fan.

But I still read the paper
And catch little bits
From the radio as every
Story transmits.

The migrants, the pardons,
The Congress, the Court – 
Democracy fighting
But coming up short.

The voters who quoted
The prices of eggs,
Now twice as expensive,
The question now begs…

Just when will you realize
You’ve made a mistake?
The heart and the soul
Of our nation’s at stake.

It’s hard to accept
Just how low we have sunk
And I wonder why everyone’s 
Not in a funk.

Is there anyone there

Is there anyone there? I read the eyes that stare
Mouths appear numb..must have been struck till dumb?
While media streams, out from foul drains (who cares?)
Who cares? It seems no-one but fools? Who concern with
The mechanic's of rules..There are rapists most righteous.'
Being quoted in readers digests and a religion traced from
Dante's inferno; indeed (not cool,) when will we awaken
Out of slumber? How our forebears would wonder.?
At such slackness and much lauding; of the current
Leadership of incumbent; macro-fools.!

Treasure Trove Of Hope

 

I inherited from my father
a treasure trove of hope.
As I was in the twilight zone of content life
I wanted to sell the jewel
to someone who gave the highest price I wanted.

 After many had walked away, 
not buying at my quoted price,
a sullen man readily purchased without bargaining bout.
As he was leaving I asked him the reason 
why he purchased on my terms.
He said he was under desperate pressure
within a mental rut, riding the rollercoaster of hopeless life
that he felt shatter and plummet 
to a despondent dark depth of agony,
from where the gleam of the treasure,
he hoped would light up the pathway to happiness. 

Streets of Solitude

"Grief is the price we pay for love."  Quoted by _Queen Elizabeth II

I walk streets of grief and of solitude,
oh, dark death has come like a crawling thief;
and I am drifting like a fallen leaf,
wandering wrapped in weeping quietude.
Oh, how long will I wander in a haze,
will it be long years or months, weeks or days;
weary, I wish for the glow of sunlight,
I can feel it on my face . . .  oh delight !

The path I follow is paved with gem stones,
streets of solitude still mine when broken;
often left sad, moody and soft-spoken.
Some days are fine and some are all amiss,
and some are just pure sublime, serene bliss;
now, my streets not always of decayed bones.

POWER IN THE TONGUE

POWER IN THE TONGUE

Words once spoken, have a life of their own
Quoted, or misquoted, perhaps written down
Emotion likely launched them from inception
Or a cold logical reasoning, in far fewer cases
Yet so rarely can erase their distinctive traces
But are measured in kind, by their reception
Sometimes just discarded like a broken crown
Especially when they suggest an empty throne

Yet there is an intrinsic power in the tongue
When words, if poorly chosen, cause offence
Even a quick recovery from a bumpy landing
And resonate with their own sort of rhythm
Whether they do accidentally cause a schism
But also, when summoning an understanding 
As their true mission is to always make sense
From which layers of meaning can be wrung

TITANIC UNTIL DEATH 1907

The Titanic
A ship unsinkable
The aftermath unthinkable
A ship with all the avion’ and majesty
The voyage from Southampton in British waters
There was a couple, IDA AND ISIDOR STRAUS of particular interest
They were connected to MACY’S DEPARTMENT STORE as CO-OWNERS
Their love was always united in sophistication and splendor
Devastation would take a certain turn
The Titanic just hit an iceberg and was now being to sink
The Ship’s Captain and his mates ordered the woman and children into the lifeboats
IDA STRAUS refused to depart from her husband, ISIDOR	
She quoted these words, “I will not be separated from my Husband as we have lived so shall we die together”
As the Titanic sank ever so close to the bottom of the seas, they were on deck together holding arm in arm being forever love will always live on in the Heavenly skies
Love being the lookout and uplifted
The many passengers that departed with the wounds taken with them with life extended into a new life
A Solomon quote, “Many waters cannot quench love, but neither can the floods drown it”
Titanic mission fulfilled but not complete.

39 MINUTES

39 MINUTES

I’m trapped down here, with no way out
It’s the end with thirtynine minutes to go
Showing on a timebomb that I have found
And it has such an irritating ticking sound
Yet it seems my time is still passing so slow
But nobody here to tell me what it’s about

I can’t get that old movie out of my mind
Thirty nine steps and the Elizabeth Tower
That was also a bomb, as I seem to recall
And pre-war espionage at the end of it all
In my situation I’ve only got half an hour
There’s not much I can do, I am resigned

Some have quoted that life can be a 
But it appears that either way I’m doomed
Although there’s only thirteen minutes left
My fingers so cold and stiff, no longer deft
It couldn’t be disarmed, someone assumed
But wait, I’ve just discovered the off switch

if y'all knew

.

                         mine astute
                           fellowz'ah
                 when your bard spillz
                             "hern" 
                            "yourn" (in this case the feminine ')
                            "theirn"               ( " " ,) 
                'pon the slips uv mine             
                    'this y'all did visit'
                          know this

                   "'tiz with profound
                              my
                             uses
                     the three quoted
                          pronounz"

                         'tiz the grip
                       in mine chest
                       when I speak
                               so

                              yup
                    "i truly believe in
                             shez
                             their 
                             ourn"
                    and i love teasing 
                            them
                             too
                             y'all
                           

SOBER IN THE MORNING

SOBER IN THE MORNING

A famous leader called Winston Churchill
Quoted a limerick that showed poetic comedy skill
It was Winston who named the Cold War
A riddle, mystery and enigma for sure
In that Soviet era
Russia came ever nearer
To knowing what Britain now stood for
Twice he became Britain’s Prime Minister
Post war prospects became quite sinister
Yet mostly what we seem to remember
Is that V-sign and his cigar’s lit ember

Banguhthon'd

.

Dude's limp described by the sum in ink 
could be only by an inclusion of think
"definitely dude's dexterity deserves downtime
for all the day long hiz soldier stood sublime"
"i'm done" hiz exclaimed smeared in hern stink


* "limerick poems have a humorous or 
   amusingly coarse or irreverent subject"...

   i quoted PS vide supra, "irreverent" being 
   this case and for the;anywhoz, this write iz 
   not humorous to the bard 'fore yours

Crossroad

Tainted fate was broadcasted this afternoon, 
and the life of which I had called mine 
was pasted into the dreary news. 
Quoted as a mundane, overused headline. 

But I saw it for what it is within; 
naked and sunken where bones meet skin, 
a sullen little echo of mine.

Steering down memory lane, 
grazing fingertips over the wind of essence.
Liberation courses through my veins. 
But I beheld a sudden strain upon my adolescence. 

Rebirthed into something strange
with an unfamiliar name and a staggering age, 
reality brought me back to the harsh presence. 

Then upon cruising, I met a crossroad;
a junction forking out into two pavements.
I stared at the uncertain threshold
and defined the pair as Sorrow and Resentment.

I sat mellowly in the inbetween, 
unsure of which path to intervene,
so I carved a new road and named it Acceptance.

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