Death sits waiting in a speical place,
she waits until we run the race.
And when the race is finally over,
she cuts our life like fresh mowed clover.
Be not afraid for death is blind.
She comes to all so please be kind.
Welcome her with open arms,
and you will see her hidden charms.
Our souls will trave and adhere,
to laws that govern that frontier.
We will no longer be confined,
and we will see when we are blind.
Categories:
trave, death, moving on,
Form: Rhyme
The Infinitude of the Private Man
What fetters will chain the legs of man,
If the Creator himself so much liberty gave?
No prison can contain the ethereal soul of man
For his free-roaming self cuts across like a trave.
Which death will erase the footprints
Of the private man who does his wild share
And takes a rest behind his indelible shadowed self?
You may think he’s dead, but he’s always there.
The infinitude of the private man has no predator
Other than the artificial systems of a rehearsed society;
For if the tastes of the mortal kind were alone let to wander
The world wouldn’t be so full of the present non-working piety.
The infinitude of the private man has no known foe
Except the vain chase after the universal support;
If the chariots of independent thought were let to fly
The world would mingle with the heavens in a spurt.
So let the waves of the human mind follow their wild paths
And let all the ancient creeds be tested against the logical,
Accept all the mistakes that freedoms may occasionally commit ,
And see how the infinitude of the private man is practical.
Categories:
trave, religion,
Form: Verse
This is the day the lord gave
From the trave of our life
Two roads met, one to grave
And one to eternal strife
And the belief was rife
We had kissed the day off
In the trough of scoff
We lived on the edge of knife
In the grave when earth blackened
Out in the dark the time was slackened
We knew that it was not the way of life
Sponsor Verlena S. Walker
Contest Name -THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD GAVE-
12 January,2015
Categories:
trave, day, god,
Form: Rhyme
I travel the whole land
of blistering sun and whirring wind
to seek revelation;
and I come from the deep south,
delivering my freight to the north:
making of this lonely life a damnation...
I drive past Dallas,
the city of cowboys...
to chase the fumes
of your burning engine;
you didn't leave a note
or didn't bother to call...
your wavy,brown hair
blowing and glowing and
you laugh in your
Chevy convertible;
who's that man you are talking to?
Am I being trashed by you?
I spent long hours driving,
hearing my own voice
trailing off into silence...
even my words have no meaning;
there's no strenght and main:
to assure me I won't die in vain!
I trave the whole land
to seek revelation
through cities with steel and glass skycrapers
and busy habors jammed with sailships;
I stop for the night at a nearby hotel
to go to sleep...to dream dreams
I can't imagine to be real,
why haven't I used my intuition?
I've been trying to save money
to buy the dream-home you dreamed of;
but in the hush and rush of this daily living,
I've neglected your feminity...
but the most important thing you wished for:
was to have me beside you and feel complete!
Categories:
trave, lost love, sad, song-me,
Form: Ballad