Still stands the night,
an immovable mountain.
A light snowfall of moonlight
on its exposed terrain.
An isolated star shimmers and shakes
its avalanche of brilliance,
outshining myriads of lesser snowflakes
that adorn the night’s somnolence.
In the lee of this mountain,
amongst taupe shadows deep,
three riders their clutches tauten
halting their steely steeds, while other men sleep.
Their chill- wizened faces
look up to the sky
whilst blind night embraces
the three Magi.
Through centuries they’ve travelled
like astronauts through space
though men still hadn’t unravelled
the first mystery that had taken place
on the outskirts of this beleaguered city.
They gaze at the star questioning:
was man ready for the immensity
of the Second Coming?
The frosty light of the star
then started to melt and wane.
It was too soon for the avatar,
the world was still profane.
They re- revved their machines
and set off into orbit exquisite.
Astronomers observing the dying sheen
said t’was a star of hope that surely would revisit.
Dripping into sweet silences
that dissolve our differences.
Clocking all of the distances
no witnesses, no witnesses.
This can feel uncomfortable
if you’re not willing and able.
Leave everything on the table
with no label, with no label.
It’s okay no one needs to know
keep what we are buried below.
Together revved and set to go
put on a show, put on a show.
Tots waddle to the throttle of life...®a©e®s...start your engines!
Human nature takes wobbly steps forward >>>
Each clumsy effort supported to maintain balance$
Space and times collide *×*
Perpetual motion prevails...®a©e®s...engines revved!
Adulthood rapidly approaches!...Lord help us survive till they move out!
Chance encounters...on and off the computer °}©{°
Experimenting with forbidden fruits @ hormones.com/applejacks
Concerned parents patrol computer...once they figure out the password ?+?=?
Alcohol and weed are soon dating...huh?...what did you say?...uuh...huh?
Driving home with the ***** in their eyes!
Except...they're still in park!!!
Too much ghanja dulled their drive ° ° °
Space station number: 5
I’m a Monday girl
waking with the Sun.
Revved up and ready,
just give me coffee.
Ambition on fire.
I will show you
what I can do.
I was resting
now I’m solid.
In the air
it begins,
a vision.
Ready
to press
start.
When the first wave came and pulled a soul away, I continued on searching for shells in its wake.
When the winds revved up and took someone else, I cried for the chickens who had to wait in the mud for me to rebuild their coop.
When the bolt struck town square splitting one into two, I asked all the neighbors if my favorite tree burned, too.
When the chill took my own, I froze where I stood. Icicles formed over head. The robins outside my window were replaced by sullen ravens. The sun stopped rising altogether.
When the dark took me, I understood better. The eye of a hurricane hitting hardest at its center. The outskirts of a tornado splintering walls but not a brother. Grief sizzling in the coals of a fire, glowing stronger than the flames themselves. And frost’s bite, though sometimes peaceful and quiet, reaches everything on Earth, regardless of shelter.
Please don't hit me again, please, please no more
Her tiny whisper met with a slammed door
and motor revved, as his car sped away.
But, he would be back by the end of day.
He would tell her that he would change his way.
"Babe, you know I didn't mean it," he'd say
"It's just there are many problems, you know.
If I don't find ease, at work I might blow."
Crumpled tissue lay tossed beside her feet.
reminders this madness would soon repeat.
She could tell Mom, who'd tell the neighborhood
Dad beat her, so she'd thought Mom understood.
Someone who listened was her best friend, Sue,
who told her exactly what she should do:
Find a group that protects against these things,
and you'll find the help togetherness brings.
When he got home that day, he found a note
that said, "Bud, here's a note that you can quote:
I hope you find that ease you're looking for.
Me: You'll not hit again. I've said No More!
A little spark. A work of art.
She lit the dark and filled my heart.
Around I turned to feel the burn.
There she lies. I’ll never learn.
She huffed and puffed and blew me down.
I was amazed at what I’d found.
She drifted high above the rest
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little prick under the skin.
It’s quite the trick how she snuck in.
Then through the vein up to the brain
The little things drove me insane.
She soothed and smoothed my troubled brow.
She calmed my nerves, I don’t know how.
She laid me down. I felt so blessed.
But didn’t pass the acid test.
A little sign. A dream defined.
I drew the line there in my mind.
Then, unaware, without a care
I breathed her in like so much air.
She revved me up and sped my pulse.
Somehow, some way she got results.
I must admit, she did impress
But didn’t pass the acid test.
Give me a taste of two feet on the ground,
let’s go get dragged by the undertow;
I want to sit and taste the ocean’s sound;
Break apart whatever has you bound,
I’m all revved up and I’m ready to go;
Give me a taste of two feet on the ground;
With palm trees in a salt breeze drowned,
island time is a serpentine bandolero;
I want to sit and taste the ocean’s sound;
Stuck laid up maybe I’ve been clowned,
then again there’s a force to my flow;
Give me a taste of two feet on the ground;
There’s sugar sand on this campground
and waves trying to grab my big toe;
I want to sit and taste the ocean’s sound;
My soul is owned by the sea year round,
living on the Gulf Coast you already know;
Give me a taste of two feet on the ground,
I want to sit and taste the ocean’s sound.
“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma,
like this dopamine boosting flavor I taste.
I surrender all pleasures to the dweller of my heart,
breath by breath so that my soul may be chaste”
He is the one that loves me and watches me night and day
as I sip my coffee I ponder on my future and His way
How can I yield to Him when my hopes are on the fringe ?
A caffeinated woman highly stimulated by life, unhinged
like the fences of my childhood past, ...
He is the scent that clings to my bones at my most secret hour
the shadow that never leaves me, my Babel Tower
How can I be obedient until death when life continues to shower?
Juiced up to the max by life's contours I tend to cower
like the deer in the forest I shrink away fast, ...
He is the light at the end of a long and darkly tunnel
a few prayers on the lips and I am able to leave this jungle
How can I serve Him best, when all I do is stumble
revved up like a strong cup of espresso I can only guzzle
like a thirsty beggar, without a solid repast.
Bulky ute voyeur selects sleek sporty stalion
Driving by, supersedes her oversized sedan
Wide wheel arches have Porche comparison
Voracious engine's enthuse easily enchants
Large car cast dispelled by lacklustre Calais
Original conjur 370Z parked beside boring
Low leg swing exclusive slide in, magic valet
Over revved start stabs adrenalin assuring
Our dear Dara, choice contacted in December
Available last minute to test drive his beast
Black gloss road boss, enlarged 'lungs' terror
Capable crazy bitumen baby, tester pleased
Ultimate Man concurs, the amenable outcome
Keys in her hand a few days after, aura froze
Couldn't imagine huge generosity from anyone
Racing car reap, increase on what she sows
Merry go round roads, another showoff slotted
Silver pole stabilised glides in Surfers cycle
Crosslane carousel onlookers, briefly besotted
By hot hoof nimble Nissan race horse style
28th March
Too Great of a Man
You could hear the sounds
of sideshow alley blaring out
from a mile away. The hollow,
metallic rasp of music
and glow of coloured lights rose
in a huge bubble
above the beach.
Adolescent dreams
would flutter the warm summer
evening like a mindless moth
revved up on hope. The clang
and clatter of rides, the yells
and excited screams sprayed out
of a whirling blur of lovely faces
wound your inflamed passions
ever tighter. The telepathic
signals you sent out
to catch an eye scarcely scored
a glance. Then poised on a chance,
your brain would freeze and hang
on your tongue like a lead balloon
leaving you gasping for air,
a hundred words away
from ruby lips tired of waiting
to blow you up.
Alone, at the end of the jetty,
all you could do was to let
the wind billow out
a swollen bag of unspoken words
and send them off winged
with a foolish hope. And then,
the long walk back, the sound
of sideshows subsiding
into the sad lament
of breaking waves, the smell
of urine soaked sand
wafting up from below
the boardwalk, the weighted
solitude of the bus ride home.
What can we do,
A distant few
Who stand for peace, not war.?
How do I stop fighting, violence, suffering and pain?
Emphasize love, connection, and cross-cultural affection.
Look down from above,
What will you see?
Our hearts are connected
We're all being affected
On this small planet we inhabit together as one.
I denounce destruction
More- am a fan of construction
Creativity, not morbidity
A higher quality of life for all.
Cross national projects, volunteering overseas and cross-cultural community celebrations please!
How can we possibly shape each other's nations?
Meditate on peace,
Pulling up our sleeves to expose the elbow grease, plant trees, garden, play music, bowl- fill our time mindfully, fill our soul-
What can we do
A distant few
Who are revved up to dream, create and help?
"A lot" I say
Self-reflection says we've got a heart connection, a beautiful bisection, that need not correction.
A black fly in midwinter
has burgled the warm air of the kitchen.
It struggles for height,
a brittle-winged air-bender
reaching for plateaus,
higher footstools,
grasping for spice shelves
or the slope of a slick cooker hood.
The splutter
of an over-revved engine,
the bolted clicking of insectivore plates.
Up it lifts again
turning like a wounded helicopter
only to crash-land
on a dish of cooling porridge.
Mired, it scoops gravity out
from a clogged exoskeleton
staggers to a porcelain edge.
Heavy airfoils battle a steam laden air.
Its weight now cannot be sustained.
It falls to the hard kitchen floor
spins disorientated on its back.
A dervish dance.
Sibilant thunder-claps
of a now dismantled buzzing.
Will it try again
to lift its wreckage?
Between the paused silence
of a ticking wall-clock
a burnt-out fuselage trembles.
Nothing disembarks.
sails fully set
anchor revved high
and rudder set
yet there is no wind
and no current
with the moon
an innocent bystander
watching a deceptive calm
waiting to rage
a dolphin encourages tranquility
but a mermaid surfaces
and bids her farewell
safe voyage she mocks
calls upon sea shells
to propel an ancient message
too often ignored
which only the hobgoblin
understand the full extent of
with longing and despair
the traveler throws
a small pebble into the ocean
ripples appear for a few moments
until a fog horn appeals for more movement
as the sea can be precarious
when waves and tides’ danger
appear only to be on the inside
Phwwwwwhht!
Went the high pitched airy sound
From the tiny plastic whistle
And off the competitors raced
Vroom!
The car engines revved
One Male driver with a Mistress in Toyota
Another Female driver with no one in a Honda
Zap!
The race began
Toyota ahead
Honda Behind
Kakpum!
Came the screeching Honda sound
Like the bad guy's tires
In a cops-and-robbers chase
Shreeeerchhhh!
Came the halting Toyota Sound
As the driver and mistress go dumb
With hands above their heads
Phwwwwwhht!
Came the final whistle
The race ended
And none touched the finished line
Waah! Waah!
Came the sound of tears
From onlookers and the surviving competitors
As they stared deep into space
Hahaha!
Came the voice of the judges
Who adored the Toyota Driver’s Bravery
And Condemned the Honda Competitor
Boo!
Came the voice of condemnation
For the Honda Driver
Whom they tagged “Foolish”
Blames filled the air
For both the Toyota and Honda driver
But no one won the chase
So Infidelity remained
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