Awe, So You Say part 2
A letter to you
I can’t imagine walking in your shoes
Victorian time period
Your so fluent
Awe, so yo say
Maybe some lavender tea
Nothing gets to you
You have it all together
Thank you for reaching out
Your heart echoes
You bring out the best in me
Voices carry
Making up for lost time
Your like a sweet rose, so divine
Rhythm and soul
Awe, together we can grow
A new home
Never alone
Peaceful and cozy
Every morning with hot coffee.
Time Period~~1830-1850
As rain falls hard and soaks the ground
and thunder roars its mighty sound,
so tears of the displaced may fall,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
The Deep South tribes of long ago
were forced to forge a trail of woe,
of death and want, with goods so small,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
We Cherokees were brought to tears
when forced from land we'd held for years,
no longer standing strong and tall,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
The rugged journey thousands made
to Westward land should never fade
from memory. All must recall
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
on behalf of our tribe, the Cherokees, and the many other tribes
who were displaced
Our Expiration Date
Miracle Man
9/9/2024
Time has no favorites, passing the same for each,
and at birth God assigns an expiration date.
This assigned time period man cannot breach,
but the life he lives determines his eternal fate.
Man isn’t informed when his last day will be,
and expiration date changes only by God’s choice.
Whether our lives are lived guardedly or carefree,
The clock keeps ticking unaware of our voice.
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
When you smile too much,
it leaves a trace:
a spot that replaces itself
when you smile too little.
And during those days,
when you look in the mirror,
you remember an smile,
but it hurts when you try.
Notes: Have you every had that dark time period when you're too depressed, and when you finally force out a smile your cheeks actually hurt?
Notes 2: I have a pretty deep dimple and whenever I'm not smiling there is a black scar-like thing that replaces it. I call it a 'dimple scar'
I was interested in what will happen.
In the endmost fate of this debilitating dimness.
An insightful major established man advised me:
It will be a time when one's destiny will be entwined.
Traditions and elderly people are no longer honored.
Poorer families will be vying to pay for food and need.
Individuals who are dumb yet rich will become educated.
All earth lose the propensity to characterize what has occurred.
Individuals talents come from a lack of accessible record.
Everyday food and service prices drastically skyrocketed.
There is no fuel or cars, and all freshwater has receded.
Audacious ascension to the foolhardy conclave held
What would we expect from this cutting-edge time period?
During the time period, intimacy was desired and new, I didn’t answer to, and there was nobody else but you. Learning again, and putting in to play, the tenets And Strengths, that allow friendship to grow and renew, sounds like a good way to shorten bouts of melancholy, just not seeing the color blue. Entering into marriage, easy to do but to stay married, is there anything that can keep you stuck on me, me stuck on you, a marriage glue? How about a pledge to, and belief in each other, No matter what comes to pass, we would not forget how to use proven tools of friendship, to overcome all mistakes, and cover each other’s ass.
The fire has been lit there already
Having been started by the Gods
Eager, ever so eager to see their will
Fulfilled, as the sparks of it originate
In a time period which the human mind
Remembers not, so immersed in the frugality of
Earth, a heartless spirit, caring solely to revolve!
Reason and science fill up every corner of this land
Armed so heavily against this mystical fire
Gouging it up with impure waters
Even if emotions, true and genuine, blow at it
Summoning me to kneel, to cry and to clip off my wings
Ordering myself to show that I care not for my self worth
Not even scared to die in this fire, as it remains my cause!
For Contest, Pick a Title
The Fire Rages On
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Written on 21st August 2019
Clash of Truth and Beauty
I find this perversion abhorrent
That the ancient Greeks had
For sexual engagement with animals;
And that they entertained the belief
That offspring could be procreated
through this act of bestiality.
It defies reality and escapes imagination.
(Even in that time period)
How a culture so advanced could be
Clouded with superstitious, inhuman ethics and morals.
(If it weren’t so sad, it would be laughable.)
And to accept this depiction as art,
Taxes the brain for justification
Not because of the act, but because of the culture.
I cannot see any beauty in this!
It’s the fact that it’s so despicable
And degrades the animals.
Picture love like a bird
An elegant, colorful bird
That starts by flapping it's wings
Ever so slightly
And it leaps off of a branch where it was perched
Waiting for the right moment
To take a chance
This chance, specifically
Called love
The bird flies smoothly through the air
The wind carrying it's small, fragile body like a child
Carrying her doll around
An additional limb to her arm
The wind stops suddenly
And the bird loses it's balance
It plummets to the cold, unforgiving rocky terrain below
Where a time period filled with solely obscurity awaits
The only thing the bird feels in the darkness
Is the rain pouring down from it's eyes
The bird perseveres
It struggles against all odds
It deflects every bullet and comet that attempts to puncture it's heart
It battles every ruthless word that tries to shatter it's soul
It defeats every cruel thing that comes its way
The bird regains feelings in it's wings
It's elegant, colorful wings
It leaps out of the shadows, into the light
And soars higher than the sun, moon, and every star
Nothing is similar
Nothing is unique
While you talk about
Ancient period
While you talk about
Running time period
She is unique thought
Of the creator
Whom whole world
Called the god
She is color of nature
She is beauty of sky
She is my fresh breathe
She is fragrance of life
She fill emotion in heart
She inspire me with her dream
I am just a follower of her
She is theme of dream
Nothing is similar
Nothing is unique
While you talk about
Ancient period
While you talk about
Running time period
She is unique thought
Of the creator
Whom whole world
Called the god
She is color of nature
She is beauty of sky
She is my fresh breathe
She is fragrance of life
She fill emotion in heart
She inspire me with her dream
I am just a follower of her
She is theme of dream
If my thoughts were my own then I would capture them and send them straight up to You.
But since they are already Yours transplanted on my heart I will just leave well enough alone.
If my wishes were my own then I would wish for something even more extraordinary...
Like a walk on the Milky Way or to slide down backward on a moonbeam.
If my cares were free then I would send You the bill and have You send me the receipt.
If My life were not of importance then I would just toss it down the dirty clothes shoot to be washed and pressed like a mundane thing.
If others could see the significance of their relationship with God and how they have the power to make changes every day.
To bring their lives into order and to usher in the greatest time period ever known to man.
If I could share the cure for cancer and the age defying mystery of the mustard seed.
Then would you believe me?
Or what about the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant?
Or the dagger that pierced our King's side?
If my thoughts were my own would you believe me?
Probably not.
here lies ole bones charley
he pleyd dem bones smartly
rekin now he be apleyin hsself
Authors Note:
Please leave a comment good or bad let me know what you think.
The spelling,grammar errors are done intentionally.
It is my attempt to keep within the 1800's era writing style.
A writer in that time period was lucky to be able to write their own name.
here be layin mean en evil tombstone jack
they done shot em six times in the back
they was afeard of his dead eye aim
that gived jack his well knowd name
but now they kin jist call em holey
Authors Note:
The spelling, grammar errors and dialect
are done intentionally.
It is my attempt to keep within the 1800's era writing style.
A writer of that time period was lucky to be able
to write their own name.
The Future
One’s future footprints in the sands of time,
To be enshrined for all to see in time.
A time period of shall and shall be,
Descriptive too of what again shall be.
A future view of such constant motion,
Of people, events, passion, emotion.
A planned assumption that is great or grave,
That a future parade of time must save.
A dream so enchanted for the future,
Not revealed—as one must learn the future.
A future hope for wantonness and wit,
To be resurrected now from Hell’s pit.
A vision of future epochs in time,
Now must our poets plan to set in rhyme.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(December 27, 2014) (Heroic Couplet)
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