The sun is overjoyed
reaching its zenith
suspending in cloudless sapphire skies
in a scarlet lit horizon
its solar sheen is veiled,
beyond the handsome hacienda
hidden from ancient alibis
a time of musings I can’t resist
I paint a likeness of her,
wistful watercolor bursts
highlights by brushed strokes
gently caressing her skin, she wears
an unrestrained ear to ear grin
recherché, warmth rare
as a ruby red stone
a sonorous soprano’s tone
ravened tresses cascade unruly
copious tangled locks flow wild
within stirs the silver stars,
she perceives the wisdom in the callow
& indelible in the wise
youths’ oval ebony, &soulful eyes
a generous yet haunting sad smile,
transcending space &time
it rids me of my harden heart’s denial
on a quest of her own,
a love child grown
…&so has a
a mother’s love
A Man and His Word
It's very true, I said it of course,
and I suffer a hint of remorse,
as now, without question,
I have indigestion.
Why did I say, "I could eat a horse"?
Riddle
Who lives in water, not in air,
and never worries about his hair,
yet is not seen in calm repose,
and will not ever sleep or doze -
because, and while it is not fair,
he can't close his eyes, only stare?
Let's give a rousing shout
for our little friend, the trout!
Here's to Frogs and Fish
I like to give a shout,
for the frog, the toad, the trout,
who, whenever one comes by,
rids the world of another fly.
When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace
When they've closed Hell's open door
And put an end to every single war
He won't have to worry any more
When they plant the fields in seed
And mankind rids itself of all greed
Then he will have nothing more to need
When freedom's the final song
And whose words have righted ev'ry wrong
His young soul will soar forever on
When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace
There is a story in her eyes
Listen to her, before she dies
past dreary storms of pain and loss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross
there is a time for gentle words
timeless truths serenade like birds
listen to how the sea can toss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross
there is light in her life and times
her heart a poem that still rhymes
her eyes shine with such sparkling gloss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross
There is a beauty in her tears
Despite so many fears and years
she still kneels before her true boss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross
there’s music that my soul can hear
in her eyes, there’s joy so sincere
He rids her of darkness and dross
her soul’s been made whole by His cross
I’m not happy nor healthy in my mind right now
It’s clouded and bleak
Not knowing which direction
Not knowing what l seek
Can’t sleep , forever tired
No interest “to ever do”
No motivation nor energy
Turmoiled mind and soul ,feeling blue
The flame that burns within me
No longer burns bright
Desperately struggling
Just to stay alight
I cannot see that light at the end of the tunnel
Nor a lighthouse to guide my way
I just want to close my eyes right now
Until clarity, rationale and time rids my minds disarray
Whatever the offerings of time may bring
Whatever song my heart chooses to sing
On life’s small pursuit I shall meditate
Elysian splendor around me, I appreciate
The simplicities of pastoral living unfurl
I’m graced in your stellar light, a cosmic pearl
Serene contemplation, moments well spent
A transcend of intellect, I pursue contentment
Humbled, a mochila drapes my shoulders
Now weightless, old tomes heavy as boulders
Once laden with Maslow's hierarchy of needs
The cause of sight itself as Plato laid the seeds
Streets of an unclean soulless city no more
Once blemished and ugly as a repellant eyesore
Until this vacant shell had found release,
acceptance paralleled an inner peace
A new perspective can only see the beauty
of the craftsmanship and the ingenuity
On this celestial hike I embrace “carpe diem”
A lesson learned in this hour spans a millennium
The power and value of each moment
however brief, I walk along as an exponent
Unfurling love that rids me of my emptiness
Colloquially speaking I have found happiness
The grave is outgrown,
replaced by pastel pink -
changing rooms and hearty laughter;
Her eyes gleaming -
w/ joyful abandon,
w/ towel in hand, She sweeps back
Her slick, golden tresses,
and rids them of the waves
and rids them of the world.
Mesmerized by silence
the maiden sips the chalice
dipping drink in pilonce
entertaining life without malice
indulgence fills the music
into the cup she holds
sifted in sobriety dousing with fluid
til the limitless path unfolds
to savor is her destruction
she must be careful of a fall
for the entirety of life's instruction
she'll learn to heed the call
maybe it will relinquish
the magic that it bids
and binding won't distinguish
between the garbage it rids
moreover this gift is freedom
but not ever to be free
the punishment is thrice beaten
will she refrain I guess we shall see
peace-keeping opossum with such an ugly pink tail
rids your yard of mice and snakes
a terrific mommy, she keeps her brood close
often is not dead so do not get too close too fast
Morose morn, but sun’s a catalyst, warm
On the eave, the pigeon’s contumely coo,
rids a night’s cumbersome, cold, smother
New day, dearth of dew on concrete lawn
Its dull gray lightened by that eloquent hi
nodding chesty chary iridescence of dawn
Glamor understated or colors long-fading?
Sipping tea by the roost, the bobbing struts
tread decrepit life under roofs, like a caveat
as nearby, shining freeway cars rush, at sea...
roaring mettles endure, seeking 'the' flower
(4/22/2021)
Hover over my trauma, sharp as a vulture, swoop
Surround old scenarios with an offer to devour
Wipe the memory card of pain I play on loop
Grab my glitches with talon weapon power
Wounds bouncing red announce danger
Jab at, stab, peck out infection, empty of pulse
Rip it, sniff the adrenalin, swallow all sorrow
Pluck eyeball delicate, until blank as dolls'
They blink thanks, hurt healer Hallowed
Wounds open have happiness follow
Latch onto my carcass, alight at cliff side guard
Reptilian talons take off, lift me limp and ripe
Black soil fall apart, fresh organs' harvest
Seasons redefined by your vital swipe
Wounds swept ride a wayward kite
Feather buffer bolstering capable chest convex
Adopts torment, swiftly rids it from intruder
Cleansed, amended by aves benevolence
Oblivious to doubt with bathed bruises
Tandem scourers never marooned
18th April
Empathy ate pain
If poised & attentive
Looking at oscillation
Stagnation sedative
Rise of contraction
The waves that arise
A storm in the making
Their source we apprise
Our own thought creation
Seeing ego urgings at play
Our course we may rectify
In stillness as we pray
Prevent delusion to magnify
Constant watchfulness
Devoid of complacency
Continuum of centredness
Rids us of delinquency
Thus meditation orientation
Always ever present
Has us bubbling in joy elation
In sync with inner sound current
28-August-2020
Ailments? Purim Cures 'Em!
Down 'N the Dumps?
Simcha smoothes most lumps,
What's Simcha? Briefly, Shared Joy,
As more 'tis shared, less there is to annoy!
Trade a warm feeling, return a smile,
Rids everyone of at least some bile.
Together, we overcome trouble,
Synergy! Life expanded, unconfined by the bubble!
Purim practices include:
Mishloach Manos; Friendly giving gifts of food,
Booing Haman; Rejoicing in justice coming to a bad dude,
Related in reading aloud the Megillah, a group "Thrillah",
Purim Seuda; a common meal festively "Imbues Yah",
Matanos Leveyonim; gifts to the needy do truly cure,
Giving does more to the giver as to the poor!
Adar, name of the month, a "Roller Coaster" journey,
When Spring, time of green health inspires, "Arise from your gurney! "
Assuming Disguises; In Adar, nothing is what it seems,
7th Adar, Moses born & died, joy & grief in reams,
Even in Persia, Esther becomes Queen, a saving surprise,
Ailments? In Purim lies a cure! Mirth & birth reprise!
heavy are
the pounds
of a Black woman
torn down
much lighter
she becomes
rids herself
of some
her heart
unbound
a powerful
sound
of beating
rhythmic
and calling
on herself
to keep
from falling
Beads of clear liquor trickle
Like fickle tears a lick rids.
A drop slid down amidst
Thick fears.
Choice of liquor? Beer.
Steer inward towards clear
Ambitious
Glee.
Then, when opportunity peers from behind a mouth,
Opportunity flees.
Dripping, rivers of fluid dy-manics steer.
Simply be.
It does not choose the destination it nears.
It chooses to be free.
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