I'm unsure of an image popping up in my head
A dot locates alongside a crowd, with a space reserve
Until now, of its decay from the fresh dark to pale light
Which has been started the image once begun to alive
It's been never so sure of that the disparity remained
As a balanced attraction and repulsion needed in-between
It's made affluent independence when the heart flies
Also, so much loneliness if solitude surpassed the edge
I now disclose this picture to let it to be identified
How is it genuine or illusionary generated in rubbish time
I need to write about the sky today
for oft I pen as to my turgid past;
I look towards the heaven, lo, it's gray
the fresh dawn's shining yellow-purple hues
long surpassed by darkening clouds of hate
but is there ever beauty in the news?
Perhaps, but mostly hidden deep of late.
Ominous clouds of thunder threaten storms;
and lightning strikes in peaceful urban spots
while every year our little planet warms.
Today, it's Social Media calls the shots
long gone the sanity of just debate.
I need to write about the sky today
it may prevent me getting too irate
I wish it to be sapphire blue, not gray.
Soft petals in the wind doth blow,
a dance of beauty a dance of woe.
Delicate scents so sweet and fair,
a cherry blossom beyond compare.
Yet each petal falls to the ground,
a sharp reminder that life is unsound.
For even a blossom that is so grand
is subject to time's unyielding hand.
Fleeting and fragile, like the final breaths,
life ebbs and flows until its eventual death.
Beauty may shine but it cannot last,
a reminder that time cannot be surpassed.
So let us cherish each moment we find,
for life is a journey, not an endless grind.
Like the cherry blossom we must learn to let go
and embrace the finalities that make life so.
For it is only in this vulnerability we see,
the elegance and wonder of life's mysteries.
And though it may fade, like a Cherry blossom's bloom,
the memories we make will endure
like the sweetest perfume.
Close together, we chat.
Relatives, cousins - our mothers: the twins.
In the wind, ghosts;
we speculate.
We wonder while we
chitchat and munch.
Distant memories
of practical jokes, tokes;
days before she ran away;
& not questioning her
upon her return.
Sitting on my lavender bedspread;
laughing, listening; forlorn-ing.
Her i.d. tags, army surplus look,
blonde hair; my long locks, dark brunette.
In the Summer week,
we speculate on ghosts;
something we know nothing about.
We stood, took turns
standing over his coffin -
her brother joked
to relieve the tense.
All together, our gang;
our mother’s brother was twenty-five…
My cousin was fifty-two;
in the wind, ghosts,
I’ve surpassed
speculation, leans differently today,
knowing one day,
this world will fade,
as another comes into view.
Close together, we’ll chat,
as relatives speculate.
I surpassed father
though the path was treacherous
and filled with mirrors
Today rockets won’t glare
And the bombs will not burst
For, although it’s July,
It is only the first.
Still, the calendar flips
And the stores are stacked high
With the burgers and hot dogs
That customers buy.
The humidity’s up,
The mosquitoes a’buzz,
So to get in the swing,
As most everyone does…
Find your sandals and shorts,
Grab the sunscreen and Deet
And accept that it’s summer,
With sunshine and heat.
Take a break from routine;
Have some chips and some beer
For we’ve somehow surpassed
The first half of the year.
The moment we met was a tumultuous storm
We both were damaged and new
Still, our minds melded until we saw the moon
A passion that surpassed the physical realm
I asked for a second date pretending to not care
By second date the storm turned into a hurricane
Only this time a perfectly synchronous formation
Bonded deeply by our similar traumas and tribulations
The first time we let ourselves go we knew it was game over
Never before had my intensity matched so equally
Letting me out of my cage simultaneously freed her
Never again unrequited, finally cared, finally loved.
A piece of advice, I offer you with care,
Live life, don't let it vanish in thin air.
Don't spend your precious moments, all in vain,
Just working, toiling, enduring endless pain.
For in a heartbeat, they can let you go,
Replace your efforts, watch your spirit slow.
Instead, go travel, see the world unfold,
The vibrant cultures, stories yet untold.
Explore the mountains, kiss the ocean breeze,
Discover nature's breathtaking tapestries.
And most of all, let love be your guiding light,
Tell those you cherish, morning, noon, and night.
Spend precious moments, laughter in the air,
With those you hold dear, show how much you care.
For time, it marches onward, ever fast,
And before you know it, youth will be surpassed.
You too will find, the silver in your hair,
The gentle wisdom, of a life well-spent with care.
So heed this counsel, let it be your guide,
Live life, embrace it, with nothing left to hide.
glasses
On my desk, the driving glasses, a 15-year-old is in a right
mood for it has been a struggle
for the glasses to be
accepted again after I bought a new pair that cost me a fortune
The state of the art frame,
yet useless, but I will not buy new ones.
My old glasses
purchased in a small shop that had no pretensions of being unique as
master of Spectacles,
alas, you have to tell people you are wonderful and apex and that
cannot be surpassed or not, people avoid you and go for the
liers and cheats in suits.
I fell for ads and bought the overpriced pair that could not
difference between red and green
What relief it was to rummage through my office drawers to
find my old glasses.
is not what I wanted to say; what I meant was by looking
at the lenses if they
could tell me a story and remember something I had
overlooked a thing on
my mind lost it in the life of April
”A Twin in Heaven”
Exactly 12 days short
of two weeks, and
thoughts of losing
you fails to escape me.
Debating if perhaps-
all the while,
a test solely for me?!
A test-
proving if my strength
can not emerge
to weak?!
A test-
to leave behind
the visual effects
of your flesh that night
in hopes it no longer
torments me?!
Or…
A test-
to see who’s reaching
the Pearly Gates first…
you or me?!
Sigh…(Crying)
Well twin—41 years,
2 months and 12 days…
you finally surpassed me.
My only request…
is for you to save a spot in line for me.
INK-U-SCRIPT
Pace, G
April 4, 2025
(“Something From Nothing”, 2024, original encaustic)
My Carbon Footprint
As the rest of the world hurls into the future
Some of us are just left behind.
This year, this season, this month, this very day
Marks the point of no return
When AI has surpassed human control
And the world that we knew is no more.
I ask my wife if she thinks we’ll be the ones who adapt
And comply and accept a life in the pod,
And she says no,
We won’t survive.
“We are the carbon
That needs to be reduced.”
(3/4/25)
A river of tears have cascaded
Down both my cheeks and face,
Praying I would find the slightest relief;
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
This heartache you have bestowed on me
Has cursed me greatly with this pain,
Consistently and relentlessly attacking me;
This torment has surpassed inhumane.
My heart will never be able to heal
Unless this pain withdraws and goes away;
If my heart heals, it will forever be
Covered with these scars that stay.
Forever tattooed on my deformed heart,
Each one has a story they will tell
Of a lover who was never loved
And suffered needlessly through Hell.
Clutter, I call it. Sentimentality. An attachment.
Some rational people would call it a mess.
Objects scattered. Thoughts left across the floor.
I look to the reflection of my mind,
Thrown, left, forgotten. How could I forget?
I’ll tidy it later. I’ll remind myself. I’ll get more organised.
A rotting excuse, as my thoughts trail through my door and leak across the room, too much for my hands to hold. So I let go.
Ripped up sheets, photographs,
The bin has surpassed its limit.
Mugs gather dust, along with the remnants of my last sip of energy,
When I could be bothered.
Broken hourglass,
There’s only so much sand left in me.
Before I make a mess.
Hello Darkness, my old friend,
I'm afraid we have to start again,
The visions planted in my head,
Fake nutrition we've been fed,
An agenda thats just for one,
Evil's son,
Within the sound of silence,
In a web, I walked with masses,
Many held the toast of glasses,
A shot rang out with a miss,
Fist rose in a state of bliss,
Victory by defeat that was the cure,
Or just a lure,
That touched the sound of slience,
Hidden meanings consume the law,
Out of the deep, corpses crawl,
People led by a faint light,
Riots charged with no fight,
Like cows led to a greener pasture,
Fed by one master,
Lord of the sound of silence,
Still you do not know,
Silence like a cancer grows,
Words, i hope that might reach you,
Praying for Heaven's clue,
Surpassed by silent's wool,
Drug to the void of silence,
And the people bowed and prayed,
To the righteous gods they made,
Angels flying overhead,
Not a holy figurehead,
The prophetic book has said "The end is near",
With much to fear,
From the Sound of Silence.
When the sparrow meets the long nights
webbed in the gentleness
of every beat that marks your heart;
only then will we find a faraway world coming together
as graceful leaves mix
with the branches of our souls;
for the length of time is never kind though precious--
our testament to be one
connects us through serendipitous pulses :
We may not be together,
yet we feel the same rain ,
same tears, and language unbidden. ..
Is this what long distance love is
made of?
We bind the folds of seasons
and still know how we live
in any moment of an eon--
a love made in a place called heaven's fate,
staying in touch
through deep intuition and prayer -
that we forego season's ticks, sometimes...
A hundred years may pass,
yet we know, this love infinite will bind the hues
of devotion 's thread, stronger than
the fabric of time's test.
palette of seasons
changes from neutral to bold
surpassed by love's strokes
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