Do not stir up the bunnies for if you do
you will be fighting their sixty-thousand relatives too
They marched against Easter in 1942
If you do not believe it, ask my Uncle Stew
He said there is no reason to make one rabbit mad
They will bring their relatives, all big, snarly, mean and bad
He remembers fighting in the street with one named Thad
Who pulled off his nose, the only one he ever had.
My auntie also had a tiff with a rabbit one time.
Except she brought in recruits, I think there were nine.
They all fought my auntie, who cannot smell cinnamon or lime.
For she also lost her nose thanks to the evil rabbits nine.
In the quiet nook of a loving home,
Is my small world-
fenced by iron bars,
and a limited sky.
Protected from storms
and predator’s eye.
Fresh clean water,
steady sunflower seed supply.
Almost a picture-perfect life.
Yet, I often sigh.
I yearn for lush trees,
and open endless skies.
Where the sun shines bright
And the moon climbs high.
I long to join the chorus of dawn,
spread my wings and fly.
I want to build a nest
with mud, leaves and twigs dry
Teach my younglings
to soar by and by.
One day the door unlatched,
my stunted feathers gave a try.
I flapped and fluttered,
then bid my cell goodbye.
My tiny little throat
Gave out a joyous cry.
Now I had mountains, valleys,
And jungles to ply.
In this new beginning,
food was scarce,
The streams were dry.
No waterproof nest,
where I could lie.
Stars blinked down
with a silent sigh.
And I had to forgo,
my melodious lullaby.
For the constant fear
of the hunter’s pry.
New starts are challenges,
I won’t deny.
They test your spirit.
But also fortify.
They cast doubts,
Nevertheless, clarify.
So, crush the whispers of fear,
and learn to identify.
For new horizons bloom,
where limits die.
A subtle stir is born in my mind, a dance of thoughts rising,
Like foam finding its place in the azure sky, seeking unwritten answers among the stars,
Yet fearing the earth that pulls dreams towards itself, a merciless magnet of freedom.
We dream in endless chapters, pages full of hopes and fears,
Where the end is a distant echo that haunts us silently,
Catching us in a struggle between two forces: normalcy demanding submission,
And defiance urging us to rise, to be more than our shadows.
Should we conform to the world's demands, living in quiet anonymity?
Or surrender to the sweetness of dreams, losing ourselves in them like martyrs,
Dying for a cause that only our soul knows?
The sun, a hurried witness, wants to see the story whispered by the moon,
About the boy who, with a gentle motion, makes the poles of the metronome of destiny sway,
Balancing between what is and what might be, between darkness and light,
Between desire and surrender, lost in the endless flow of consciousness,
Seeking balance between the dreams that call us and the reality that pulls us back,
Dancing endlessly in a universe of melancholy, a play of the soul through time and space.
the beat
of wings the bells
and merry flight of snow
the flap of angel crew as day
unveils
the drop
of dew the pearls
and birches whisper blow
the hymn of fresh horizon’s born
this morn
the reds
and greens in tune
in sunrise glow and shake
of berries in cardinal’s pine
awake
the beat
of wings the bells
and merry flight of snow
the flap of angel crew as day
unveils
Version #1
She stirs, and with her, the earth shakes,
lifting dust from where silence once lay—
a force long restrained, now breaking loose.
Version #2
She awakens, and the earth quivers,
stirring up dust from the calm that once lingered—
a power that was held back, now set free.
Much of what I say might sound like it’s
stirring up trouble, but it's the truth!
Quote by Malcolm X
stir
the wind changed slightly
that day i picked up a stone
moving some atoms
instead of leaving them be
consequence rearranged me
As though mixing the caffeine of deep desires and wishes
With the crystal water cognizance to make gold-brown niches
Where-from, yearnings, like fogs of fine frankincense, resurrect
Bedecked with the sweet-bitter-blend, filtered conscience effect
Settings get upset; there's an idle-ordeal order.
Foundations, once set, turn reflections on a broken mirror.
Kingdoms and empires are brought to below-ground level dust.
When stirs turn earthquakes, born out of rebellions of mistrust
Time's tumult; seasonal surge; waves of the ocean weather
Stir has set its soul within each fragile flying feather.
The friction set by the spiritual stir, like a sage
Goes on discovering and finding wisdom's newer page
A character study done here.
You always liked to stir things up.
Like a washer agitator
You thought your tactics a good touch.
Stirring, stirring until worn out
A good name you just loved to smear.
The fabric ripped, buttons cracked, gone.
Desiring to ruin a nonsuch.
You'd set the trap, you fishhook baiter.
Carrying on life, minutes later
You'll never change, your ways all set.
But sometimes now at life you clutch.
I had hoped you'd change soon, my dear
Doing your service still your waiter
This is actually a Bref Double poetry form but somewhat the same as Quatorzain.
“Discard oh hermit, sermons of the preacher ~
Know that silence alone, is our true teacher”
~ quote by poet
When we sit in staid stillness, nodes within stir,
whirring forcefully, creating a bliss mist,
best understood as an energy transfer,
whence save God-focus, remains no to-do list.
Grace in-pours when with pulse of love we concur,
shifting from head to heart, ceasing to resist,
that touch divine transforms form as living light,
breath by breath thus heightening our heart’s delight.
There is in truth nothing that we need to do,
save choosing to dissolve ego in the stream,
which happens on its own as bliss beats renew,
as we lose ourself in trance in a moonbeam.
Each hue of rapture is felt by us as new
and though we’re awake, we continue to dream,
stirred out of slumber, by this soundless thunder,
beholding soul’s ascent, in childlike wonder.
"Life can get in the way of life. Make sure you stir in lots of love and happiness."
By Poet
My life
recipe for
a long and happy life.
Many hugs and kisses daily
now stir in laughter and a pretty smile.
Spoonful of love and happiness
a pinch or two of fun.
Make sure you stir
my life.
“Curiosity is also my worst vice, and once stirred one not to be denied.” Anthony Ryan
My love contains lavender and elements of surprise
Like a warm wet whimsical wave
Lose yourself in my chocolate eyes
Find fuchsia freedom hazel happy place
The sight of me a delightful blue breeze
Warming your red southern region
Making green spring and all your dreams
Red hot despite current season
Dip your toes in my sensual soul
Stir stare cherry care if you dare
My emerald embrace engaging close
And thick as my long brown hair
Drink up my love in crimson cup
Enjoy an auto amethyst refill
Your passion fruit makes me blush
Encouraging new stirring new teal thrill
Like a flower bloom I open for you
And curiosity paints a yellow sky
We caramel kiss submit to cupid’s truth
Trying new things licorice lovers delight
Written: February 28, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mayhem prevails as calm dries and stirs rise.
A ruckus erupts as words and deeds blend.
Oh, the wrath, related storm, and squall size.
Building burning blaze, to draw in hearts trend.
Dance and bustle, spark the soulful lost fire.
Wrath symphony loudly incites the crowd.
Rumpus drew seeing their whimsies were dire.
Slashes and ripples, ruffled wings, brisk loud.
Cloud voices, balk colder, fire with purpose.
Cyclone whirl, heat, and mayhem hurl the mind.
Through life, wards meet in a stirring service
Spoons, fluff, defiance, and keenness behind
A spark of hope with all this lapse and strife.
Grief may spark split, but it can propel life.
Stir up the roots, let them come alive
For in this season, we will thrive
We will learn, develop and see
In ways we never thought it could be.
Amidst great adjustments, we will steer our way
For in Him we are strong, we will not sway
We will change our minds to think like Him
The God of the impossible, the faithful One.
He is Elohim, the God of amazing miracles
With His grace, we will overcome obstacles
When troubles roll in, and fear takes hold
We will stand in His promises and be bold.
For there is a place where we can stand
Where the foundation is steady and grand
We will step back into that new place
Where His love and grace we embrace.
Rains may come and winds may blow
But our faith in Him will continue to grow
For our house is built on the firm foundation
In Him, we find safety and timely consolation.
words are...
thought-road norms with
a built-in radar as...
the met-a-four lane-gauge
for under standing bridges...
and the intersections that sent-tense
stans sand
...
lane gauges
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