Verbiage Poems

Heaven Conducts

Expressions
of spirit
the music
plays on

Beyond any
verbiage
or words
come and gone

At high
elevations
each note
takes you up

To reach 
into heaven
where feelings
conduct

As harp
strumming Angels
with harmony
strong

Play chords
of acceptance 
to guide
— you along

(1st Book Of Prayers: June, 2025)

The Enough is Enough

In my haze dividing 
I clown my hysteria inviting 
A will to finish this degrading 
Life of fawning. 

Abandoned by rape
Of a virgin in wanting
Now this life is a canvas 
Of abandonment 
And consoling.

Into hell I cast all wishes and desires
And petty arguments of
Gifted minds in drunken stupor. 
I glide on failing and bathing in fire.. 

On tonight's global gift
I am debunked and scolded
For not falling in line
With this destiny distorted.

No junk in my veins, 
No pop to my verbiage 
Forever now grounded
In rules of the Owner. 

I vow and repent 
For this final agreement 
That ripped through my decision 
To try and offer a help I can't muster.

Life is a Kaleidoscope

             
                 ~ Life Is a Kaleidoscope ~
                           5/25/2026


Life is a game, so, which role do you choose to play?
In lifes’s cacophony of human hearts on display?
What is your role in this drama of millions of metrical, truth-sayers?

I ask myself this, whenver a poem, in moonlight mist, I conjure up to post.
Not expecting a comment from anyone, or to be lauded, 
at a literati roast!

I’d much prefer to write poet songs, home alone about 
the glory, or angst of relationships.
These are the songs, that dreams are made of, in the moonglowing-sapphiric experience.

Forever dreaming of soft, magical, deep verbiage and longing to hear love’s tender, calls.
The ecstasy, the dreaming, of kissing his expectant 
 lips, beneath rainbow-misted,of lit gentle, waterfalls.

Do we shape the poem,verily,or..does the magic of a
poem shape us?
Are we here to impress, or dare we try to really connect with another’s spititus?

The Beast

   The Beast is in the yard.
   Says he's a vegetarian,
   But I wonder at the blood.

   He has a verbiage that means naught!
   As a Beast,
   He eats a lot.

   My neighbors, friends, and workers disappear!
   Their wives and children,
   Say the Beast was near!

   He says he's a vegetarian.
   But someone's meat,
   Is in his teeth!

   No social services for him.
   No healthcare,
   No food stamps in the end.

   As a vegetarian,
   The Beast doesn't care.
   About anyone from over there!

   His brow is clear.
   Claws stained with ink.
   I think its blood and innards that stink.

Mind of the Heart--

“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking”


alas my soul soars
whispers sweet breaths of verbiage
breathing not words spoke
~
my heart beats soothing
thoughts of compassionate sweets
blank stares of beatings
~
so I see I saw
just Father speaks to my heart
my heart mind’s speaking


2/24/25--2025©
For Mind of the Heart Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker

Writings of a storm cold

Writings of a storm cold 

The house gently 
Creaks
From icy winds pressing against
Exteriors whilst slipping 
Through
Small inconsistencies.
Sleet dances against window panes.
Piling glass against glass,
Particulates of infinite possibilities. 
Fractals dancing down, 
Tap dancing on rooftops.
I sit at kitchen table, 
Bundled from the cold.
My only friend and partner, a
Dancing flame from candle
Casting shadows upon the walls. 
Words scratching valleys and 
Mountains across vast white expanse.
Scratching eloquence..
Moving still.
Plumes of billowy 
exhale
surround my head 
Like a haloed angel.
Tonalities of gray, from white to 
A Dark and shadowy blackness. 
Reaching out,
Ever growing,
Like the reach of sea creatures lost beneath vast depths.
Here I sit,
Staged against the cold.
A storm of ice,
From liquids fallen from skies with stories 
Told. 
I am their conductor.
Dance for me of wind,
Whisper in mine ear. 
Settle still o house of moaning temperance 
Against a northernly wind. 
All the while my quill to 
Parchment 
Sliding out visions painted by verbiage.

Tennis With A Net

The thing 
about rhyme
is you can’t help
but read it

The glue
in the verbiage
whose tonic 
is needed

Uniting
each line
with the magic
of sound

Melding the
moment
as phrases
— surround

(Dreamsleep: September, 2024) O/L 9-23-2024


... Famous Quote By Robert Frost

Soupsters Unite And Write-

Soupsters Unite And Write! 
Life time member
Friendly
I am poetic graced by words of Elohim
Verbiage a custom
Soupsters Unite And Write! 
No English major
Superspouper
Suprdoper lingusted brewer
I come to ya
Soupsters Unite And Write! 





9/16/24

What does that bird think of me?

I wonder what that sparrow thinks of me,
As it flits so easily from branch to branch on tree,
While I’m stuck here earthbound, decried to strut all day.
A silly flightless biped with arms that only flap and flay.

Humans are naked beasts with clothes worn forlorn except at the beach.
Birds are ornately adorned in beautiful feathers, all over they reach.
Birds call and serenade each other with songs, chirps and trills,
With no need for endless verbiage and debate about bills and wills.

Birds thrill in joyous flocks soaring and swarming in formation,
While humans gather in angry crowds for fights in condemnation.
Somehow, I think that birds love to belittle and mock me,
For they're the ones, free to fly and frolic in fountains, carefree.

Water Divine

Have you built
a cathedral
with language
unblessed

Adopting an 
Angel
your spirit 
redressed

Have you
filtered the 
verbiage
with water Divine

The Savior
within
you
— still waiting to find

(The New Room: September, 2024)

Minus The Plus

Deficit of
wonder
climbing
the walls

Deficit of
verbiage
the message
forestalled

Deficit of
promise
the future
on hold

Deficit of 
time
eternity
— shoaled

(The New Room: August, 2024)

The Old Rotary

*PV - Proverbial Verbiage

The Old Rotary

Dialing out…zzzzip…zzzzzzzip…zzzzzzzip
and
zip…zzip…zzzip…zzzzip
and brring…

long distance was not a thing
for children. they could only
ring those within their corridor

ching…ching
money didn’t grow on trees
the grown up made sure
we were wise

or they’d wise up
our behinds

but we didn’t even try
a bit smarter back then

smarting at smaller things
like
eating Mr. McGregor’s produce
throwing
stones at cars
but
we kept our hands
off the old man’s
cookie jar (PV)
rang Grandma
once a year (PV)

It was more fun to dial out
but by then a burglar
tied you up (PV)

MANEUVERABLE MANURE-

"Running through a mile of wasted compiled vile
 I find myself conflicted sitting in a position
 groaning I'm foul planting a seed of tan and brown
 the snake comes out of me and it flees deposited manure
Gastly every movement is not pure, sometime it's deterred
 so now I gravitate as I clasp my cheeks
out from the plummets from the tests intestinal ...
verbiage I'm not on my knees 
Yet, yes I bow down bowel comes out of me
What I just planted was healthy indeed
 it was a groupings of so many seeds
 running in through my garden
 or would you pardon 
Me as I sit posture above a toilet 
and now I let Go of the grouping for you see is my bowels moving
My waste has been displaced
 into a porcelain throne filled with water clear 
as I touch the handle it's spirals down
Maneuvered Manure
 the tunnel to eventually become one with the sewer"

Void

Mere anarchical obstinacy
Is their sad anthem all over;
Stubbornness steeped in lunacy
Is their sole claim to fame. 

Who can stand their inane guises,
Their thoughtless mouthings tolerate?
Verbiage for verbiage’s sake is their vibe;
Sheer affection for baseless hate.

Abolition

Once upon a time; hard to tell which piece.
Somewhere between reality and myth, 
lies forge an identity lost on peace.
Keen bellows; hammer strikes unveil the Smith.

Akin; that prince slyly seeking the throne.
"Thus always to tyrants!" He blames the slain.
Raising cain, killing able; little's known 
of overlords. Let complacency reign.

Let promised comfort lower the voices.
Rejecting the past; lesson in meaning.
Diluting verbiage; Alter choices.
Destined for slaughter; signal the weaning.

Take notice; an abolition’s at hand!
The abolition of Man; Master’s planned!

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