Plato says that Heaven is perfect things,
that nothing pure or good exists on earth.
We leave the Ideal World when, at our birth,
like ants who've briefly flown, we shed our wings.
All infants cry, in Shakespeare's view, when first
they leave the womb, to find this Vale of Tears
is what they must inhabit four score years,
dreading hardships into which they've burst.
Our human life, so Seneca would say,
is prone to failure, suffering and pain.
The only shreds of solace that remain
are stoic calm, acceptance of decay.
They're wrong, of course, to tend towards this view:
but then, my Perfect Girl, they didn't know you.
elephant tusks
harvested for ivory towers
truncate the wisdom of time
blizzards hail snow flakes
weather a storm or two
before they melt into memories
Babylon refutes Jericho
an eye for an eye
that money can’t buy
Rosetta’s stone
gives a clue to incomprehension
and sometimes the monolith
takes on new meaning
when frosty crystals meet
eternity in shining armour
Midas touches mammon and greed
blistering peeling forms scabs
on lost conscience and souls
the snow flake melts
because it knows about destiny
eventually ivory decomposes
once humanity has died
Though I remember school days,
One thing I can’t recall
Is getting to and from each day;
My brain has hit a wall.
My mother didn’t drive and so
She must have walked me there,
My dad already gone for work,
His daytime presence rare.
I try to picture rainy days -
Umbrellas, raincoats, boots -
Yet somehow what I’m seeing
Is a scene my mind refutes.
When I was slightly older
And my brothers came along,
Did we all walk together
With my mom? That’s feeling wrong.
I guess our memories consist
Of more important things,
The details not worth keeping
In our past rememberings.
So likely in the future,
My two grandkids will not know
That they walked to school with Nana
And she loved those Fridays so.
Beyond the earth's landscape,
There’s a yonder place,
There the soul makes its escape,
A different world we face.
Our souls go on a voyage,
An uninterrupted passage,
A pathway to a tranquil city
whose emblem is purity.
In its carriage, the soul is bound,
In conflicting voices, it is drowned,
It desires a serene ambience,
It refutes nature’s transience
It bears the mirror into the future,
The soul sees the picture,
In alliance with the mind, it transcends,
The body exhales as it descends.
The view is clearer,
Hope stands nearer.
March 3, 2023.
Break The Mirror Poetry Contest,
Unseeking Seeker.
I see yard signs reading JESUS 2022
Scattered throughout the neighborhood
Confused, I wonder what they mean, too,
Are they merely expressing an attitude?
I’m told they show support for Trump
That some believe he is the Messiah,
It certainly seems an awkward jump
For many of us, he is a noxious pariah.
I can’t see Trump appearing on a white horse
Or standing for virtue and principled truth,
I find him unapologetically crass and coarse
Not to mention disconcertingly uncouth!
I surely wouldn’t want my neighbors to know
I think Trump and Jesus have anything in cahoots
For Jesus came in peace and love to bestow
Jesus taught everything that Trump refutes!
Written July 21, 2022
Sometimes the
lines between
happiness and sorrow
love and hate
are thin (barely visible
to the naked heart) –
(a healthy heart
needing more than
a steady-beat
to be truly healthy) –
hearts not created
merely for pumping;
nor for expressing
exclusively within
the Body-visceral
while excluding
the vaster realm
of metaphysical being
(confined within a cage of bone)
(drowning in its own
oxygen rich fluids)
No, the heart truly
reaches out -- beyond
muscular attributes:
exceeds surface
perimeters of flesh
and blood –
transcending
the core-less Atheist
concept, absent a
spirit and soul
for greater inspiration…
refutes the materialist,
who sees only
superficial reality,
excluding the essence
of divine interaction
and miraculous manifestation –
The heart I speak
stretches the rulers
of medical Measures –
remains an enigma to science,
and by contrast -- the light
apposing dark-sided men
who reject Christian-unity daily
as did those prosecutors
of The Son of Man
who rejected Christ love
and His revelation
of Divine Source
and Holy Trinity….
Why did I begin
When I knew
I couldn't win?
It's all such a laugh
A ****ing sick gas.
So here it unravels
A pen with a fragile
Mind, and no editing
For we post in a blank
Cloud of uncertainty
You can be a superhero
Just write what you see
It's the word in the middle,
It's so easy.
Poets? No nay never.
No nay never no more.
Science develops history
Not a happy go lucky man.
I defy and refute any
Simpleton who
Defies and refutes
What I know to be true.
The media social
Comes into your
Life by
Pasting false memories
And stretching your lies
Like I am a god
You just never met me
I am so smart
Just don't ever test me.
Only a figure of motion
Are words
The anthem of nonsense
We agree to spit out,
Before we lay down
And sleep for the day,
A Facebook of falsehoods
A quick spritz of the ignorant
To keep us in tune.
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
Condemns his fingers fretful glee
This vagrant lust that will not die
Nor feed his longing to be free
Cold tremor of long deadened strings
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
Refutes the truths to which he clings
His voice an empty, faded sigh
Cold wind - a graveyard's soulless cry
Vibrations of death's haunting hum
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
As through the flames bone fingers strum
Hell's flame his now forever curse
His music it would never die
Decisions based on fame and purse
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
1/22/2020
I'm now in god mode
Explanation, if you will
That I have the power
To give life or take it
We all do, in our way
Aside, only one force
That transcends time
I will love you forever
Not one ... second ... more.
(This is NOT religious statement of any kind, it is about the emotional power
some people hold over others, and the ambiguities of the only thing that
refutes it).
SO YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD.
WHAT EXACTLY DOES THAT MEAN?
THE WORLD IS PERFECTLY WONDERFUL,
FROM EVERYTHING I'VE SEEN.
TAKE A LOOK AROUND YOU.
THE MOUNTAINS, VALLEYS AND TREES.
TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL,
OUT ON THE OPEN SEAS.
SPEND SOME TIME, OUT IN THE DESERT.
YOU WON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES.
TELL ME WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE,
ABOUT THE STORMY SKIES.
MAGICALLY OR SO IT SEEMS,
LIGHTNING AND THUNDER SHOWERS.
AFTERWARDS IT BRINGS TO LIFE,
THE WILD DESERT FLOWERS.
VOLCANO'S AND TORNADO'S
AND SOMETIMES HURRICANES.
CHANGE THE FACE OF THE WORLD
AND IT NEVER LOOKS THE SAME.
THE WORLD CHANGES EVERY DAY.
SPINNING FROM DAY TO NIGHT.
TELL ME IT'S NOT BEAUTIFUL.
AND WHAT TO YOU IS JUST NOT RIGHT.
SO YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD.
I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN.
YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE WAY I THINK,
DRESS AND EAT AND DREAM.
YOU WANT TO TAKE CONTROL OF ME.
I THINK THAT THOUGHTS INSANE.
I AM A CHILD OF GOD,
WHO REFUTES THE DEVILS GAME.
Belief..
in grief
awakes trust,
defeats despair
subdues rage,
deciphers
fact from fiction:
breathes
hope
refutes
lies
purges
pity
stands firm
diminishes time...
such grace
provides solace
Pink hues gesticulate undaunted,
interdiction resonating...doleful hearts
secretly abiding drained of purpose.
Pink mothers, daughters, neighbors dispelling
myths, clinging holistically, while vomitus
refutes breaths of life.
Pink secrets resound mercilessly,
relentless conjecture, demonized fables
secreting venomous depression.
Pink vows tirelessly march for cures;
enduring rain, sun, arthritis, disease and
loss of loved ones, precious ones...gone.
Pink survivors gesticulate undaunted,
hope resonating...soiled, still hearts, still
openly supporting us drained of purpose.
Pink miracles await faithful biochemist, bold
technicians, as scientific discovery abounds
unrelentless to malignant tissue snatchers.
The power of PINK reigns perfect hue!
The power of PINK reigns tried and true!
The power of PINK resides in me and you!
Strange tales now I see
Dying death sets free
What is meant to be
Just look deeper then
Dying death knows when
Final curtain span
Watch the glimpse that tells
Dying death speaks well
Cast that final spell
Write the last page here
Dying death frames cheer
A deeper plunge spears
To come is to go
Dying death now shows
Dance in ebb and flow
Be bold my dear heart
Dying death greets start
Ending splash binds art
This is our commute
Dying death refutes
Stillness is not mute
Speak then silence bold
Dying death grips cold
Transcend what now holds
Seek that stillness deep
Dying death brings sleep
My darlings don't weep
My soul goes home now
Dying death endows
Beyond why and how
At the final gate
Dying death drowns hate
Soul embraces fate
Do not grieve or fear
Dying death makes clear
Soul knows endless cheer
Sing and dance and play
Dying death now pays
Love's forever day
Leon Enriquez
12 October 2017
Singapore
Betrayal devastates your heart:
while he swears it is not his fault.
And when the truth refutes his lies,
wishes and dreams grind to a halt.
Anger and sadness sever love:
cutting the bonds; trust created.
And confronting indifference:
Hope dies, leaving you frustrated.
His lies are peppered with half-truths,
compounding the depth of your hurt.
For he swears he's done nothing wrong,
nothing but an innocent flirt.
Treating you like a simpleton,
he switches on his boyish charm.
And refuses to admit fault,
swearing he'd never cause you harm.
And he denies what friends tell you:
countering with an alibi.
And you cry inside, for you feel
that it's time, that you say goodbye.
As you abandon wishful dreams,
fantasies no longer take flight.
And tending to your broken heart,
you count on time to set things right.
Plato says that Heaven is perfect things,
that nothing pure or good exists on earth.
We leave the Ideal World when, at our birth,
like ants who've briefly flown, we shed our wings.
All infants cry, in Shakespeare's view, when first
they leave the womb, to find this Vale of Tears
is what they must inhabit four score years,
dreading the hardship into which they've burst.
Our human life, so Seneca would say,
is prone to failure, suffering and pain.
The only shreds of solace that remain
are stoic calm, acceptance of decay.
They're wrong, of course, to tend towards this view:
but then, my Perfect Girl, they didn't know you.
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