COLOUR PERCEPTIONS
entirely
sympathetically
disposed
&
procuring
propensity
always
in harmony
possibly
surpassing
wonderful
..aesthetic
considerations
often
spoken
&
following
preferences
colourings
of
sea-green
yellowed-red
LIFE AS IT IS-:-
imaginative
truthful
realms
precise
beautiful
with NO DISTINCTIONS OR DIFFERENCE
feelings
compassion
sympathetically
expressed
actions
of CONSTANT CARING
attention
forever
unified
plain
compatibility
MOMENTOUS DIMENSIONS-:-
idealistic
concentrated
conclusions
symbolized
sensibility
in a VISUAL CULTURE
essential
generic
culture
sympathetically
treated
in EXPLORATION OF THE IRRATIONAL
metaphysically
experienced
memories
bizarrely
expressed
EVERYTHING IN EXTREMIS -:-
unbridled
featured
feelings
unpredictable
genius
in CULTURED CIRCLES
confront
susceptible
concerns
sympathetically
supposed
in OVERT ALLEGIANCES
evoking
sublime
precedents
equivocably
redolent9
I’ve begun recycling emotions
so they’ll last longer
and we can save the rat-bag planet.
Sometimes I jump in elevators
I did it this morning
on the third floor
this guy looked at me, askance.
“Do you think you’re going to live forever?” I demanded.
Sometimes I look at Peter and think
that he’s the sexiest guy on earth
I want to ravish him - and we’re at breakfast.
Can a boyfriend be TOO perfect?
“I could do better,” I tell him, out of the blue
- because you’ve got to keep them on their toes.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, looking up from his buttery-croissant, sympathetically.
“You’re doing your best,” he added.
“Wait,” I said, “what are we talking about?”
.
.
Songs for this:
What's going on by Paul Carrack
After the last note of the concerto,
after the thunderous applause,
after the presentation flowers,
after the congratulations
of her admirers behind the curtain,
she walks still smiling
quickly to her dressing room
where alone she sheds bitter tears
for the missed notes
and that too muddled passage
where her music fell short
of the perfection she had rehearsed
in her head.
The conductor knocks gently at her door,
hears her weeping, walks quietly away
shaking his head sympathetically,
he knows,
he understands.
‘I was born with the meaning of home running through my veins.’ Lauren Eden
inside the back door of our house our laughter rang out
as we sat chit-chatting around the kitchen table
playing board games or telling silly stories
upstairs at night we giggled in our bedroom
snacking on treats we had sneaked into our room
when dad would yell up the stairs at us to go to sleep
not able to quell youthful exuberance
for we had ties bound by a forever sisterhood
born by fate – I don't know
but molded nevertheless by our time together
secrets whispered in the dark
and heartaches assuaged sympathetically
fighting at a minimum
the place where today
though it be no more a building made of brick
is but a phone call away
He smashed that thing.
What was his mood?
He'd spoken to her, to him,
then to that dog, that cat.
What is the cause of a mood,
though often good, but -
oh dear! - so bad at times?
But then he returns. He’s here.
Does he always or merely often
think he's now had
a smashing event -
though only at times?
Or can he be calmed,
touched by us, gently, sympathetically?
Can he be claimed, grabbed,
drawn back into sanity?
We make judgement on that temper.
Is this a climate, an immovable region
of his sense of humour?
Will he entertain another smashing time?
(17 Feb 2024)
When a woman seems a preferable quality
Some folks will still have questions about her qualifications as long as she qualified to play
Her house role quietly and other things quickly.
As she succeeded to apprehend him in her
heart and he comprehended to live there.
Who can have power to cut that rope and elope
With one of them around nights or daytimes?
Question to some accidental luvs who quitted
So quickly while they were qualities qualified
By some choosers who quivering by their exquisiteness,
Whenever they appear sympathetically and romantically.
All day, if as far, a world
Circles back round again
Oh! That bold vision to regain.
Pursued, undimmed, on shore.
Sympathetically blown along.
Companionably lonesome!
Of what, sea-raised, but wholesome
Haunts a heart evermore.
WILLOWS
Willow rise and flourish —
A verdant contrast
To summer’s sun-blanched sky —
Lifting your branches ever high,
But then curving, draping
In arcs on down, with your leaves
So set like rows of tears
In a passion of falling
Over the contours
Of Mother Nature’s cheeks..
Inviting my spirit to sympathetically
Identify
The symbolic, extending
Willows grown within me,
Created to mature
With all the stories and storms
Of my life’s passing seasons.
————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/25/22
Thanks be to God
It feels misguided,
yet I do not feel misled,
to aspire to fame, measured in assets
and/or in power to influence others,
capital and social benefits
possibly acquiring famous
and infamous allies
in glorious success
and
ingloriously dramatic defeat
of naked front page stories.
It feels safer
and healthier
for resiliently wealthy outcomes
to aspire to unnoticed integrity
with other win/win healthy players--
neighbors earn extra safety points.
Finally,
or even partially, realizing
it is for this we are born
and yet belong already
sacred subjects more than secular objectives,
sympathetically with,
and compassionately of,
living Earth
Both humane naturally competitive interest
and divine spiritually cooperative
multicultural co-investment.
"Please, I've been wandering aimlessly," Whispered a breath among the trees.
In response rustled the leaves.
"Can you hear me?"
A pause followed the next breath.
"I'm tired and I want to go home."
The soul rest on its knees no longer wanting to roam.
Wearily her eyes scanned the trees.
"Please," She whispered again and waited for an answer on the breeze.
"Where is my mercy?"
Sympathetically the trees heeded the desperate pleas.
Carefully considered.
Then sent a fluttering of wings.
Just as softly as her whisper fluttered a black winged butterfly from her listeners.
"Have you come for me?" Whispered she ever so softly.
Soundlessly the butterfly flitted away.
Deeper into the forest.
Beyond the trees darkness was giving way to day.
After the mysterious creature she did stare.
But to follow deeper into the forest
She wasn't sure she dared
on whittle willow
you drape over me
your arms folding
limbering they shape
my physical body
O willow, be
You sadden me
Tear flowing eyes
Simple sympathetically
My spirit saddens me
My soul needs empathy
I rage my branch is high
I raised my branches High
No longer hanging down
No longer laying down
my spirit, my head,
my eyes I reach toward the sky
Oh my mind guess you wonder now why
you see I'm a simple fella
Once fallen ...the weeping willow
4/11/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Spacious comfortable country residence
extended and upgraded, sleeps eight.
On the fringe of a conservation village
elevated distant views, sheltered
solar heating, well insulated.
Sympathetically tucked into a south facing hillside,
extensive well-manicured terraced gardens.
All amenities, motorway and railway within 5 miles.
Paradise on four levels, décor understated
a dusty sand hole, ant excavated…
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