Love sings the most beautiful melodies
Lyrical tunes which enhance the bliss,
Magical, lilting tunes underlie the kiss
Ah, the sweetness of these memories.
I remember hearing these lovely songs
Love sings the most beautiful melodies,
Even those which were pouty parodies
Which could smooth over any wrongs.
Lingering all day long inside my head
My brain persists in singing with ease,
Love sings the most beautiful melodies
After she died my singing heart bled.
Faintly I hear these musical symphonies
Years later the tunes persisting still
Give me wonderful feelings, even a chill,
Love sings the most beautiful melodies.
written March 10, 2022
[quatern with ABBA rhyming]
For those who dwell in memory, looking
Upon what they saw as a golden age.
Seeking to turn back those hands of time,
Instead of a better story, by turning the page.
As if impaled by seductive reasoning,
With delusion and fake news to underlie.
Maintaining ignorance towards the factual,
While reality and science stand by.
Being aware of yesterday is important,
Yet moving ahead is the only path true.
Since history is there to teach of a future,
Not to reside in a past with no view.
I dont know why
But everytime i try
To speak, i sigh
It's not that i'm shy
The words just die
And on my smiles, i rely
To convey and reply.
But with kids, i cant deny
It's not as weird and dry
'cause they are not as sly
Neither judge nor pry.
Might seem mighty and high
And my smile, wry
But its really all a lie
As i try hard not to cry.
I'm not trying to defy
Any rules but to imply
Beneath this facade, underlie
Timid, but good traits of an ally.
So please in your life, apply
and also kindly comply
When you meet someone as i
Dont just wave goodbye.
Where is this God, that invented the sun? If we close our eyes, is it not the darkness of our mind. We speak of things, in a language of spells, where our fantasies underlie reality, and warp the pure concept of love. There is much intrigue in the world, where coincidence becomes contact. The heavenly world, plays upon the natural stage, as the backdrop of dreams, and the proof of divine intervention. The eyes that were blinded, are starting to open, with a shining sight, that cuts like silk falling across an invisible blade, and floats like the butterfly... across the fine days of summer.
Coleridge once wrote of the Khan’s pleasure dome
Where Mnemosyne, the mother of muses did roam
And her daughter, Caliope, was the muse of epic poetry
Gave rise to Orpheus, who joined Jason on his odyssey
His love, Eurydice was killed while dancing to his tune
A beautiful nymph, the daughter of Apollo, died to soon
Tragedy and comedy underlie classic Greek Mythology
And while ancient in deed, is the basis of psychology
Thus when the creativity springs from my inner mind
I recognize my source of beauty, the special muse behind
Humble poet, graced by a lovely and elegant guiding sprite
A heavenly creature that slips into my dreams in the night
In deed and thought she shines golden light on Earth
Like the starry celestial orb guiding lost sailors to the North
Perhaps she is unaware of her power, unaware of her love
But all I can say is that she is my muse, shinning from above
Many a flame, brightens the sky
Such events to re-enact
A plot in vain that would underlie
A pre-determined pact
Brought up as a Catholic child
Beliefs that would not wane
The distinct view of Protestants
Reflecting royal reign
The disapproving treatment then
Catholic Priests and all
Of secret church services
Hidden holes – no fall
A venture to the land of Spain
Discover and to fight
A brave and learned soldier
Gunpowder to alight
Plans devised, against the king
Thomas Winter’s plot
Fawkes informed and now assigned
Such tales were not forgot
A secret meet within the Inn
Robert Catesby lead
A gang adjoined as one to swear
Our plans will go ahead
A parliamentary opening
Imminently placed
For barrels rolled into the night
Hidden without trace
A letter sent to Monteagle
Reward for such a warn
Uncovered act, to light a fuse
The truth of which be sworn
Hidden in the cellar below
O’ Guy to now arrest
A plotters display of guilty heads
The ending of their quest
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
1.
Whenever the truest edge doesn’t hold,
Another existence it does belie.
When causality is a broken line,
Unseen variable has cracked the mold.
Simple cause and effect gets in trouble
Abstruse patterns underlie life’s events.
Straight Euclidean angles and tangents
Reveal deep truth when they twist and bubble.
Infinite weaving of the light and dark,
That from which all matter derives its form,
That from which all shades and colors are born,
Folding, animated by unseen spark:
Zero Point made of unbound potential.
Infinity in nothing, essential.
2.
A cause contains more than it alleges.
If all you can see are random events,
Assume that it must be coincidence
Occam’s razor it seems has two edges
The surface, outer manifestation
The solid, visible three dimensions
Concentrate, more enters your attention:
Substance beyond the realm of sensation.
Bursting through material pretension,
What unimaginable things are hid
Beyond the visible Cartesian grid
To unfold from another dimension?
The depth remains unseen, passes us by
Except in dreams, when the mind’s eye can fly.
3/23/16
Hybrid Italian/Shakespearean Sonnets
Abba cddc effe gg (x2)
I feel fine dear friends to find with joy here
That the bubbles I raise in my small glass
Can come across your eyes my dear reader
To wet in your garden some blades of grass
I have only a few good cups with me
And that too not always subservient
Even if I can keep me mostly free
Colored bubbles hardly find easy vent
Though I want to be under your wide eye
My cups being fixed I hardly can do
Raise as many drops as would underlie
And spread my wordy grin my dear to you
Still this bubbling from my limited bowls
Remains a joy job to my starving souls
__________________________________
Villanelle: Think of the trillions who have gone away unsung before us
Think of trillions who have gone away unsung before us
Think what they have left us without staking any claim
Yet the prophets we recall have all been thrust upon us
Those who used this world for their own petty purposes
Those who abused mankind to hoist their peoples’ name
Think of trillions who have gone away unsung before us
Think of the common grammars that underlie languages
Think of the basic numbers logic’s foundations contain
Yet the prophets we recall have all been thrust upon us
Think of hieroglyphs cuneiforms carved into papyruses
Think of the ideo-phonograms that alphabets disdain
Think of trillions who have gone away unsung before us
Think on all ancient thinkers from King Wen to Socrates
Then think on what has been proclaimed in God’s name
Yet the prophets we recall have all been thrust upon us
Think on what makes particular faiths amenable to races
And wonder if all Life’s simply not Somebody’s idle game
Think of trillions who have gone away unsung before us
Yet the prophets we recall have all been thrust upon us
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Mere bits these bullets, so cold and gray
poison piercing's which the jaded heart conceals,
in the heady light of day good men reel
recalling these morbid missiles played.
Blood which hotly runs leads weaklings astray
bringing uncalled for blackness to congeal
oft in coddled, crimson, rivers most surreal
on pathways and walls, red ricochets.
Call back those loosed demons, wants, desires ...
become a brighter bit of coal transformed
a flaming diamond full of holy light,
'fore the bullets tear and youth expires,
praise not the bigot, brash and uninformed.
Be the truth which knows no ending, defy ...
for foul anger, hatred, violence, all underlie,
the crumpled wall, the tattered form, the child's sigh,
all poison piercing's guns and bullets buy.
Play not the shill for evil men who lie.
Let youth and fire... form facets.. for the right
and strengthen all that's growing in the light.
Caudate Sonnet
abba abba cdecde efffgg
volta line 9
*Inspired by "Scared Bullet" by The Scribe (Marlon Linton)
Damaged Devil
Conscious bears witness to time gone by
Goodness changes seasons, nature turning naughty by firelight
Night holds close the empty precious tries
Hallow woods, wind cries, reality a reaction of the mind
A baby’s first breathe alive on the outside
A breeze opens a tree revealing a purple sky
Drink dared dreams a soul consumed dies
Follow thy plight evils lusting underlie
Damaged devil walk the wind
Bid work wise, work bid time
Hear what is hidden inside
Joker playing poker face laughs silently at pride
Clues lie deep down within messages and signs
A wicked smiling devil calling out, it’s your ride
You are quite the flame thrower,
Now dodge my bullets.
I warn thee creator of destruction.
A blazed with glory in your hopes and exceptions.
The burgundy walls that surround your organs,
Underlie the games that support your mourning.
Brutality ceased to be your friend,
But it will follow me until the end.
I tell you know;
‘Correct yourself’.
Stand up straight with a rose pinned into your skin.
Smile and nod but don’t turn around.
The ground won’t hold,
For you have been told;
Find your talisman and run.
Move your legs and fear the words that are spat in your face.
Please remember your forgotten grace.
I am anything but brilliant,
I consider you wise.
Understand the beat that swallows your lies.
UNDERLIE
In the cemetary
Rest the weak and weary;
Quiet in their repose
We the living suppose.
Night after night deterred
When life is what's preferred.
Stuffed in a boxed holder
No room to turn over.
Life unconventional
Live institutional.
In crypt or grave shrouded
Conditions are crowded.
UNTIL
Comes the one night a year
The one that mortals fear.
It takes their lives beyond
Material respond.
Into the nether world
Where locks turn white and curled.
Then fright stretches each hair -
Welcome to your new lair.
HERE
If you survive training
Your life that's remaining
Will get to pick and choose
Who or what you'll infuse.
Be what you want to be
The style that sets you free.
A ghostly werebetween
Living for Halloween.
HELLO
Freddy, Edward, Chuckie, Dracula, ...
~ ~ R. I. P. ? ~ ~
Werebetween
#333333
Digital beams
Encrypted means
Dimention's depth
By a hair's breadth.
Time passes on
Laid out - not gone
One of our own
OOPS!
He's not alone!