I am tired of prayer portals,
gateways unlocked by trance,
the meditative magic carpet rides
to promised realms, the rituals -
it has always
been here in the soft whisperings
of evenings, writing its narrative
in everything -
the tall eucalypts
of the high country, the coastal
she oaks and grasses buffeted
by the wind, rivers and pebbled
streams, mountains, the wide
plains - and murmurs
in the soul stuff
and in every atom of me.
Mostly I am deaf to its voice
and search for my own,
a plea, a prayer, anything at all
to send a ripple across
this dark, featureless terrain
that drops off at the cliff edge
of thought and stretches beyond
the full stop at the end
of my mind.
I'm longing to fall
like the amber autumn leaf
into changes arms.
leaf
wind
motion
stirs silence
until stillness opens
something unsaid drifts through the air
There holding up the belt, they said thpingall was questionable, the match was almost equal, clearly the 3 in the fall was a two with a right lifted shoulder. I still have the Trophy they championship committee drew a line and divided the championship.Neither disputed or unified, status; challenged, dually challenged.
Friction between promotions.Gelled over and squash, is going in storage for winter. They drew up the thinga muh jigg, in blueprint. Found folk to engineer it into existence, built it up,divided folks interests as who was or is. Promoted, a bout,found a venue. Conjarred up a show, now we gotta get the peoples asses to sit with there passes. They are talking about inventing the automatic vender. Where all men can sit order grub and chill! Man we got some work to do.
As this room, Earth life's, dims more
Leaves us, piling up
With too much things boxed, besides
This, junked, abides
In the mind's own storage place.
Old. Wilted, washed out.
Sentiment! Flowery phrased.
Dream world's. Since rased.
I sense something skulking in the woods
It is darker than dusk
I see nothing; the evening is silent
No rustling, no twig snap
I do not know how I know
But I know
I head for my house
Expecting to get pounced and eaten
You have to believe in something,
In California more than in Paris,
To the market gardener more than to the philosopher,
To the gendarme more than to the thief,
in the countryside more than in the city,
You have to believe in heaven,
More than in hell, however hot it may be
To the rondeau more than to the sonnet,
You have to believe in something,
to Marie Claire more than to Julie,
to the Big Dipper more than to the sun,
To silence more than any noise,
in California more than in Paris.
Something Else
Perhaps this word goes here
Oops, not quite that
I think if I do this, it will rhyme
Drop the words
Clutter the mind
I'm tired of this; I'm going to bed
Emotions in dreams,
Inspirations in life
Words on a page in perfect tense
portray the dream of the poet to finally make sense
Yesterday you asked me if I was coming back
The birds went silent
The wind hid behind the trees
And time stopped dead in its tracks
As you.
And everything around us awaited a response
I was nowhere near ready to give
My face held a puzzled expression as we kept walking
I forced the air out from my lungs
Unsure of the right way to say no
So I said “Maybe”
Time went back to chasing the sun
And the birds started singing again
As I whispered to the wind
“I'm never coming back”
A new phase
Needs sacrifice
You have to let go
Of who you are
So you can become
Who you want to be
Something goes for something.
You got to let go
Of all that's draining
Endowing what's nourishing
If you want to fly
Give up everything
That weighs you down
Be like the Phoenix
From ashes to a new life.
this is the great merit of this magician called life.
it deceives us and passes us by from moment to moment
from birth to the great gate
most are disappointed. that extraordinary thing,
the great thing dreamed of and expected, did not happen
or maybe... it was not the time yet... or the place
there are people who are satisfied because life has offered them many moments
not extraordinary but precious enough
to be kept in their souls for an eternity
and yes. they are happy people. they enjoy every moment offered
they have the power to transform the everyday into extraordinary
as if epiphany is normal
happy are all those rich in memorable moments
because eternity will remain theirs
painted in tastes and colors
Say it again, or say nothing
But maybe just little something
Something that must be said
To be replied or fall dead
Birdies repeat their songs
They warble and sing all day long
Other creatures do the same
No matter of their name
Every life tells its tale
It may sound bright, or pale
Same as the light of dawn
Shone before we were born.
Tell me something if you can
I just need to know
If I hear you, like then
From the lower row
Tell me more than shareable
Even if you think
That it seems unbearable
Send me please that link
Tell me something you’ve already
Told some time ago
Something loveable, just let me
Know what’s going on
Tell me of our happy days
Tell me of our sorrows
Guide me through the tangled maze
Of my lost tomorrows
Tell me that you’ll come again
Tell me I’ll be there
Where we shall meet and when
Tell me if you care..
Back when we were small,
Everything felt true
Since at that time
We were experiencing something
Fresh and new.
We didn't pay attention to life's worries;
We didn't care,
For the real world was wide
And our happiness bare.
Our mentors seemed
To have had their lives figured out.
Yet, they were the ones that needed
Proper guidance and bring about.
Every fun, every trip,
Every single memory
Tug at a piece of us;
Something that takes a long time
For recovery.
The day arrived
When the light and hearty pride
That was rooted in our hearts
Disappeared.
For the clock began to sprint
And the easy seasons died
As we stood infront of the real world,
Our innocence denied.
So let us enjoy the moment
Instead of living at a different timeline
Because while we focus on one problem,
This period might also slip by.
I see something near
Crushing a crystalline eye
Hello, I am God
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