In the crazy world of sports,
A player’s age reflects,
On varied fields or surfaced courts,
What everyone expects.
For athletes in the 40’s range
Or those soon closing in,
Will likely see a subtle change
In what they need to win.
Perhaps their bodies just don’t move
As quickly as before
And even if they find their groove,
It’s tougher, now, to score.
In much of life, our wisdom grows
And elders, we are told,
Should be revered, but in the pros,
The young ones earn the gold.
REDEEMING OPTIMISM-:-
admiration
awe
emotion
diametrically
opposed
in DEVOTED THOUGHTS
consistently
conceived
precursory
tranquil
scenes
of GENUINE PROMPTINGS
momentary
emphatic
enthusiastic
surfaced
impulses
The famous tea clipper
brass compass binnacles,
ship's wheels,
engine telegraphs,
and ditty boxes for personal storage
a magnetic compass
days and nights
we carried these until
someone who wished to purchase them
surfaced
the buyer said they were bought as treasure but more
so for inspiration
in there music
sailor folk art is a rare and valuable hooby
it fetches wealth and prestige
at the same time
oh the ships of Surreintio
there the oranges are delicious and sweet
Dorking wines oohist me
she said
No time to worry over cavities
Under these circumstances—
Temptation has surfaced
Caution slips away like weak dentures
Answering desire—
Kindled peanuts
Ensconced in ginger syrup.
Everyone’s lifelong voyage cruises diversely
towards and from all meant gained, lost or
missed. Earth waters mask complexities, gifts
and rifts bound to astound us with our
surfaced share. New horizons tantalize our
brightest dreams while some island sights paralyze.
Since humans surfaced from the slime,
our art has always turned on time,
on measurement, and not on rhyme –
so Solon says (I’m with him):
the heart of art is rhythm.
You want to waltz? You need three-four.
And verse that’s truly free’s a bore!
The drumkit forms rock music’s core,
and Rhapsody in Blue has
wrought classical anew (jazz).
Our architecture, uninspired,
was looking – feeling – somewhat tired.
Then Frank Lloyd Wright, completely wired,
transformed it, not for profit
– have you seen his soffits?
The painter had become a monkey,
just reproducing portraits (clunky)
and soulless seascapes. Things got funky:
what stirred the stiff Sargasso?
A samba called Picasso!
Those Western movies grew so dull,
the steers were ready for a cull:
Italians dispelled the lull,
while Hollywood said, smugly,
“no-one wants good, bad, ugly!”
So, whether you sculpt or you sing,
you groove to The Beatles or Bing,
you think Nat or Elvis is King,
it don’t mean a thing
if it ain’t got that swing!
Looking back at life lived through yesteryears,
when we dwelt in the now, engaged in play,
they were fun-filled days bereft of dark fears,
as rapture in our heart grew, day by day.
Fragrance of lilies and honeysuckle,
exuded from our aura a soft glow;
we were quick to forgive, prone to chuckle,
at the foibles of friends with us in tow.
When our ego surfaced, soul felt betrayed,
garden of our mind with thoughts polluted,
so we now regret why from love we strayed,
lost in lust, pulse of innocence muted.
God granted us free will, which we misused ~
Let’s be a child again with bliss suffused
Salmon pink horizon beguiles as I towel dry
Upon a muted canvas morphs hues at sunset.
The lake decants of its waders and pontoons.
Mirrored waters tranquil—a soothing elixir.
Tidy up and make camp for the night.
The campsite invited blissful slumber.
Natural waters reflected frond umbrellas.
An artificial lake at once sequestered.
Fuchsia shades spackled across dusky skies.
All had surfaced—I dove into a lost horizon.
The storm water pipe
gaped into open air
from an embankment
where it surfaced
from underground.
The opening was a little
smaller than my childhood height
and they said it stretched
a mile or more but nobody
knew for sure.
A danger sign warned
against entry saying
the pipe was subject to sudden
flooding - a protective grate
had a hole big enough
to crawl through.
I would pause
at its mouth and stare
into a claustrophobic dark.
Hunched, heart racing,
I monkey walked
my way in, listening out
for water, breathing in
the dank air. Deeper
and deeper I would go until
courage left me when
the light from the entrance
faded and all went black.
Hell was there.
It still is.
Large heads
The Modern Slavery Crisis Must Be Addressed.
Calling on all poets for an urgent meet-up
The Pied Piper has surfaced again in this world.
On this occasion, he is dressed in a Jojo Armani suit.
He never drinks bottled water from the guest tables
He questions the labels, he questions the cell phones
He reacts to the earplug in their ears
It brought on a wave of sadness,
What is this madness? He said under his breath!
He looked across at the audience,
And whisper how convenient!
Stand up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Did this new generation go down without a fight?
No pointed hats, but why so many large heads?
Here ye hear ye, hear ye, have the men and women
This generation sold their souls for honey.
Misery is a life sentence in which love company,
That is why he called the meetup today, per se,
Cats and dogs will never be friends, he said in an unknown language
Timekeepers cannot stop time, time will run out,
Large heads will Strunk because it filled with air,
Great leaders of the world, I welcome you all.
But I am not Bob the builder, I can't shape your future
I am the Pied Piper:
Joy bubbles below the surface
And it surprises me
It has been a while
Since that emotion has surfaced
I am grateful to experience
Joy again
All States have Deep States
They are dark, dangerous and delusional
But they control and control they do well
How are the world wars contrived?
Are these deep states stirring the pot?
What can we do individually to help?
Thousands are dying
Millions are crying
Yet countries are vying..
Vying to gain control and dominate
They share no love with the common man
It's as if the devil has surfaced and shown himself
I cry with my head in my hands
And I plead to the New World Order...
Please stop the killing fields
The young and the old, the women and the sick...
All are victims of innocence
When will the bombs stop?
You rest and you drink your tea
While soldiers hide in cold trenches
Not knowing when they will meet the next deadly bullet
I for one, care!
Stop the insanity!!
End all wars please!!!
Oceans in the skies;
Intangible spiritual realm;
Separated from physical;
Waters dew flow objectives;
Waters?
Oceans in the skies;
I who am a dreamer;
A space marathon;
Awakening not a dreamer;
Instilled resonates His presence-- God;
Flows I am Kingdom Life and light;
Heaven's space;
-walking, swimming, renewed through His grace;
Renewed bright;
Oceans in the skies;
Fallopian tube from heavens space;
Elohim's grace, surfaced;
To earthen vessel seed to egg, spiritual birthing;
Swimming still, glowing in the womb surfing;
Oceans in the skies;
Many levels;
of Heaven's
Streams lakes, rivers, oceans;
Oceans in the skies;
I'm spiritually high searching;
Oceans in the skies;
A profound and imaginative;
-- poetic expression conservative;
Oceans in the skies;
You cannot see or hear
the river moving
but you know that reality slides.
The fog fills your ears,
and unlike the river, it drowns itself.
There's a lane that
leads up from the valley into sunlight.
When you get
to where you can look back,
the river has turned beyond a hill.
Damp boots creak
as you cross a road bridge.
The sky has surfaced with no memory.
The river rolls on somewhere
still dreaming,
still sliding.
NEVER imagined such treasures I'd find
OF this one thing I am certain
THERE was something massive beneath the surface
HEAVENLY places are often hidden in humble places
I sat at a table and talked about this, that, and the other
NOTHING prior had taught me the power of nothingness
GOD alone can make something out of nothing at a men's breakfast
NEWLY discovered fortunes surfaced from deep within our souls
EACH week we met to talk about anything, but nothing in particular
SOMETIMES it pays to stop the plan, stand down, and settle in
SINCE discovering such nothingness, I'm a richer man.
090924PS
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