Dark grey first autumn breath a bone chill hint,
summer’s sun- rash boom absconds on trailing glint,
luscious terrain brazen in hue’d rose cheek,
hazy mountain slope a sombre damp peak,
tint and tapestry awakened brisk fall gasp,
dapper drift net shades spawned to grasp,
pigment in meadow mould a gold rim beige,
tone shift bold red, earth brown, copper rage,
sweet gum tree orange, purplish fervent die,
to sniff katsura pink tree, charred candy sigh,
hail harvest bountiful, heart rippling feast,
red fire ablaze, hungry tongue wild yeast
beetroot, turnip, parsnip, root crops galore,
“Falls” raw lungs whiff hearty soup of yore,
yet honey-tinged morn, fleet of foot pause,
fades as cold plummet primes its icy claws,
green copse shrunk, drab moon weepy tune,
woodsy wren hoarding food in mournful croon.
mud squelch booth on path, smog purged lair,
wet moss splurge rinses pollen, season gulps air
It still rinses everything
in a sacred wash,
gives a significance beyond
the boundaries of the natural.
The soft light falling on a field
appears sanctified, filtered
through a prism to dim
the Divine and so not blind
human sight.
It seems too simple to be only
the blessings from a mortal sun
and yet, bathed in its golden glow,
butterflies flutter
from flower to flower
as beautiful as angels.
Life comes as it goes
It is designed as it flows
The easiest parts
Come with the hardest darts
Aiming from all directions
Guiding you on your next connections
To strengthen your soul
And navigate through the celestial pole
An everlasting journey
That will reveal itself like a ferny
Come to discover your hidden abilities
It will cleanse any hostilities
From the depths
I rise!
No longer feeling the pain
Having been through it and coming out sane
It’s a hard knock life as they will say
Keeps coming at me every single day
Protecting my thoughts from being taken away
It comes as it goes and it will become a surprise
From the depths I rise!
Will continue to pray for strength
To battle these demons through a multi wavelength
Keeping them at bay
Rinses my soul off of harms way
No matter how many times the rain dries
From the depths I rise!
Not knowing how or where I will go
I will continue to flow
To the sound of my heartbeat
As the wind blows through me
Wiping away my tears from my eyes
From the depths I rise!
No longer hurt in fear
Does not matter if the end is near
It will always be blue skies
From the depths I rise!
The wind billows the trees with god-forsaken draft,
And rinses the limbs with splashes of rain.
Zephyr's raging bluster brings forth storm's chaotic craft,
Blowing silver threads to new starts again.
Sailing without order, the threads land where they may----
On fence, on plants, on a patio chair.
The small spiders, thus carried, will emerge in a day,
And crawl past your toes to find a choice lair.
You probably won't believe me, These rumors you hear are true.
When I'm not at my job, I have other tasks to do.
I don't care how long it takes,No matter what I think.
It's time to scrub those dishes left soaking in my sink.
No matter how hard I try.
Dirty clothes left to themselves will nether wash nor dry.
I hope I don't sound I'm lax.
but my kitchen sure could use a wax.
There is no housekeeper that is paid for by the hour.
That scrubs my commode then rinses down my shower.
My plight is very simple, as you plainly see.
No one else will do these other tasks for me.
“When trust is a walking phantom,
draped in dying dandelions,
let the wind blast forth its shattered promises,
as rain rinses away piercing pain of memories lost” Quote by Poet
the sky is a catacomb
of faceless promises and ghosts
clothed in tangled treachery
as trust is a wilted tulip~
embalmed in golden tears…
O’ deceived heart of the eclipsed sun
you were once glazed in jewels…
now a mourning mausoleum~
chanting a moonless requiem
resting in ashes of skeletal lies….
The rhapsody of rainbow
melts in morose mélange,
the concoction of colors
bleeds bland in
shattered silence,
sucked out
of crumbled core
of sensuous cloud,
soothing rain rinses
the stains in broken hearts,
shades of grey paints
the frayed linen of love,
redundant.
The requiem
of longing patina
of repentant rose
resonates melancholic medley
in the portals of petals,
the faded gloss
turns into tears
in pearls of mourning dew,
desiccates uncared
under the summer sun
of the desert mind,
the wilted flower falls
on weathered gravestone
of spent passion,
departed.
The cacophony captured
in the melody of forlorn music,
chaotic symphony floats
out of tune
on disharmonic wave,
strained smiles displayed
with elusive enactment
in ostentatious podium of life,
songs turn into echo
of convoluted noise
in hollow souls,
pretentious.
The intriguing facet
of listless life
seen entranced
through liquefied layers
of cynical stratum,
configures pessimism
in the sunken essence
of living exaltation,
the apparent aspect
refracts defiled expression
of warped existence,
enshrined.
The mist washes the hills
In a hazy comfort,
Soothing away every thought
Releasing the promises
Worthiness, like the dewdrop
Silencing fears, tears
The mist, like a heavy fog,
Caressing oak and pine
Stardust falls, pouring out
Rhymes, rhythms
Poetry on the emotional
Ride through eventide
The mist rinses the peaks
Destroying darkness
Erasing the mysterious
Coloring creation
Blinding the elation
Whispering intimacy, joy
The mist, reminds me
Like a vapor, my life is passing by me
Rich in blessings, fading
From the seas of enchantment
Relieving me of doubt
Promising that I will always bloom
The mist baths the mountains
In shadows of dignity
Faded reasons for faith in dreams
Promising wisdom, peace
Cleverly hidden beneath the gray
Steam that shrouds faith
The mist, alive like the wind
Dancing in the spirit
Whimsical, wishful, wistful
Praising a God who is alive
Singing through the spray of love
Poured out on all flesh…
From His breath, His gasp
Exhaling blessings
On the ones He accepts
Through salvation
Saving grace that admits
Jesus saves completely!
July 14, 2022
Tweedledee surfs tides the fingers decree
Tweedledum rinses the melody lyrics gum
As I gently strum
My guitar took me far where I can never disagree
In the dreamland of peace
Where brothers trouble sisters like breeze
Everyone fears the waves of seashore
Through smile, love travels miles
In agony, love takes patience to subdue hegemony
Love begets love
So do hatred begets hatred
But two wrongs can not make a right
When he emits hatred; to learn him love, display it.
© 2020
® Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá
The fountain is opened,
The sky is rent apart,
They take their journey,
A purpose is to be fulfilled,
A mission is to be accomplished,
The journey of a raindrop,
Can't be wholly fathomed,
Its existence as an entity,
Is incomprehensible,
What we know is what we see,
What we see is what we believe,
It rinses clean the atmosphere,
It drains away the unclean substances,
Some float,
Some are deposited,
Harmful substances to an all-embracing host.
April 30, 2022.
You can't march dirt from soiled laundry –
one needs a strong detergent, and several
cycles of rinses. You can't vote dictators
out of office – they do the counting, generally
counting the people out. The world is in a
fix; America in the mix. We need our, so called,
representatives in Washington to gain a backbone...
and not just ring their hands while pontificating –
or are they all so conflicted themselves, that they
dare not do their jobs?
Evil devours Evil! In time a powerful,
ruthless person, decides to do good for
the people – just to get the masses on
his side. So the seat of power can be
transferred. Sometimes a group of well
to do individuals, tired of politics
as usual, have an epiphany...and an
America is born!
Mister Joe, would-be muse,
jangles loose change in his pocket.
Memories jogged and garnered as he walks.
Mister Joe in contemplation,
washes, rinses and tumble dries, what pops into his head,
in hourly cycles, with riddles, jingles and rhymes.
Each wash-up, extracted, pegged, and hung up to dry,
to taunt and flap jangles for him,
for his readers, and strangers who happen to pass on by.
Mister Joe, would-be muse,
casts charms, jangles and sparkles,
to jog in the minds of his readers.
His words cast nets to trawl up memories and serendipity dips,
in the minds of his readers with word play, puzzles and twists.
The catch netted, is prodded, poked, shaken and stirred,
to inspire twinkles, sparkles, hums, aahaa's, grunts,
and perchance, nods of appreciation and delight.
Mister Joe's catch of memories, once jarred and jangled, are returned to reader with care.
For the reader to add jangles to their pockets,
and gems to their lockets and charm bracelets.
Mister Joe, would-be muse, and his reader, now walk with jangles echoing within.
Mossy thresholds open,
mud slips into small lighthouses
on the shoreline of the season.
Backyard rockpools
become repositories of sunshine.
Roots and puddles
congregate in underground weddings.
Lost towns emerge to be found.
A raining wash rinses the deep surfaces,
teases the earth ajar,
the ground surrenders to fulfill a promise,
a warming breath patches green sleeves,
plants green vowels
in the sylvan silt and the softening.
In tents some great adventures dwell.
Intense are nights where flashlights swell.
Sites are intimate and spacious.
Sights agree, the Lord is gracious.
Peeks of heaven's breath surround us.
Peaks within trek's reach astound us.
Wood is obtained for bright campfires.
Would the stars contain more desires?
Chilly's the night's bite, but fire's hot.
Chili warms in a blazing pot.
Bear tracks establish remote paths.
Bare your heart and permit it baths.
Tales are told with a stirring hush.
Tails are hidden in every brush.
Close the tent door, starve mosquitoes.
Clothes are laid out before we doze.
Creaks pierce the woods; we turn and toss.
Creeks trickle nearby trees with moss.
Dew rinses clean night's unsound fears.
Do saplings emerge from your tears?
Cents are exchanged for a shower.
Scents of nature overpower.
Deer prance upon nature's backyard.
Dear mom, enjoy every postcard.
Write when something touches your heart.
Right here in the midst I must start.
3/11/2021 (homophone beginnings)
September
rinses
my skies blue
October’s
streaked sunsets
will have me
awash with wonder
Sept. 22, 2020
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