PARTICIPATION
Will my verse reach your ear
can your eye stay the course
listening,then writing my verse I awake ,
content until the next time,
the chords at my finger tips drift
back and forth into a song.
Take a deep breath,exhale and
read between my lines
An image alights as a butterfly in spring,
a thought arrives as inspiration on the wing.
An idea resides to crystallize and
brings each together as one.
Does convention confound
the rhythm of your eyes
Oh to avoid convention's game
make the image surreal upon my page.
a Stop,dear reader in your stride,
bring forth your imagination and join me on this ride.this
in the realm
of the mind,
replete with thoughts
inspiration thrives,
discerns over spills,
to reveal
then configure
and emerge:
a fragrance
to dwell,stay
and perhaps
haunt another
PUBLICATION
In this digital age
Our
thoughts
bonded
together,
though ever apart
TWITTER
quick thoughts
cut short
POETRY SOUP
will test
the best
Pleasant people inhabit
this PS workshop of varied verse,
posting posies of many kind-
comments & opinions abound
in blogs ,of the world around-
sponsored contests in galore
brings creativity to the fore
my short poems on twitter
art ekphrasis on Flickr-
and blogs in this soup
other efforts in Sketchbook
so come now, take a quick look-
and keep in the loop
I think
so I paint,
I imagine and pen-
mix digitally together
as one
As a haiga
It’s not about what’s right...
but about who has the power
to dictate what’s right
(University Of Pennsylvania: January, 2022)?
How it mocks your mind to think
a thing your faith affirms as tenet.
You tussle with the doctrinal ink:
was there an inaugural minute?
"Always existed," can that be right?
The thought swevels all your senses.
Saints with you do mull and marvel
trapped in past and present tenses.
The picture will clear on a day hence
when puzzles will be pieced complete.
They will make heaven-sent sense
as in tears we kneel at Jesus' feet.
TENET OF REIFIER NATURE
Summer’s departing footsteps on the eve of autumn I hear
as the sun blazing the topography mellows down at noon,
and on dewed meadow at sunrise verdant shimmers appear,
the blushing leaves rustle as they’ll become redder soon.
The dawn’s tapestry depicts the sagas woven in autumn color
as the crimson fringed clouds kayak across the cerulean sky.
The sunburst horizon makes the pristine nature a true reifier
that’ll disappear never ever even if the doom’s day is nigh.
At this time my senses capture the signals of season as radar,
the waiting winter’s lurking shadow my mental eye can see.
I soak the warmth of fall air that’ll act in me as the reviver
when in the frigid times at the lowest level of gloom I’ll be.
October 6, 2018