Russia and the USA different flags on the head
Presidents in pertinent modes thus dreaded
They are arrogant, but they are Brave weepers
They pose as heroes but they are only sleepers
They were never sane... they are just demented!
No one is death , yes...
Happiness can be you, peace
And joy can be him.
Suffering and pains
Can be her , weepers can be
Them on earth planet.
We can all be love
And live peacefully in
Our communities.
June 23/2023
Written: June 22, 2023
The hands of the clock are flinging faster,
Quicker than the Moon and Sun,
With each stroke, moments alter.
As the dance of life is spun.
Dreams and hopes, with whom they linger,
In the depths of midnight embrace,
O that alone and wretched singer,
Whose melody fills every space.
The hearts of people, full of sorrow,
Hold their dreams and fears within.
With the funerals of the shadows,
As life slowly wears thin.
Within the confines of the clock,
Midst of sorrow, the midst of fun,
We wait and linger, stagger and walk
Until their graves, they all start to run.
The clock of time, relentless keeper,
Ticking away with every breath,
Guiding us through joys and weepers,
In the dance of life until death.
But in the midst of this endless race,
There lies a beauty, a hidden grace,
As relentless as the time march may be,
An opportunity for us to foresee,
That life is not just around the end,
But times we cherish and the echoes we send
So let us dance in this fleeting time.
Embrace the joys and sorrows of the sublime.
I am amused and wonder why
we need six strong men when we die.
Some even specify with pen
the ones to be their six strong men.
We don’t need men when our lives end
and to the grave, our weepers wend.
Far better to have six befriend
when life is tough and cares attend.
So please my friends choose wise your six
who are trusty, and strong as bricks.
A servant true be ready too
to help those who reach out to you.
Jeepers creepers can’t believe your peepers
Sweepers keepers jumping josey leapers.
Gleepers fleepers dallying with sneepers.
Reapers heapers willful wonder kneepers
Sleepers greepers foremost firstly weepers
Deepers sheepers giving golden fleepers
Cheepers zeepers living with grim reapers
Jeepers creepers can’t believe your peepers
Snapped in their prime,
hurried out of pains,
to join innumerable companies of angels.
death, a mighty remedy to allay their troubles,
their wants, groans, sorrows and agonies, carried to terrestrial plain.
earth Mourns, while angels welcomes one divinely ordained.
though born in Adam's filth,
But by grace transformed and through the cross escaped.
weepers, Your sorrows are but Joys en-masked
The seed is counted among the saints
Their maker bids their fears begone,
look through the vista of future Years,
Would you meet your seed again?
Then go in through the Door (John 10;9).
Weepers with hoods —
tear-stained, faceless.
Dirge monks with shields.
Knight of the golden fleece
on a slab in requiem.
The silent mouth of Cicero.
Fell in love with this funereal piece
— Tomb of Philippe Pot
with life-sized pleurants.
His hands steepled in prayer,
a lion in repose at his feet —
Grand Seneschal of Burgundy
9/28/2020
Tomb of Philippe Pot
Louvre Museum
You'll never guess what I found at the dump.
I found and soon sold an antique gas pump.
It was made back in 1943.
A Man gave $100,000 to me.
I sure was lucky to meet that antique collector.
Having this much money is like drinking nectar.
Two days later, I met the man who threw the gas pump away.
He demanded that I give him $50,000 but I refused to pay.
He said he's in over his head in debt and he keeps getting in deeper.
He may need the money but I say finders keepers losers weepers.
(This is a fictional poem)
~
He was mine.
Unbeknownst to the man, he was mine
He had found me,
And I go by the ironic phrase "finders keepers, losers weepers"
So he was mine
A glistening drop escapes my eye,
Shocked,
I quickly blink..and the moment is gone.
I wasn't quite sure,
Was this lonely tear a result of joy, relief, sadness?
Or was it just my imagination running wild.
Hey! How come you're using my Banderella cook?
It's mine now. I found him in my wife Liza’s nook
Finders keepers,
Losers weepers.
Use tenterhooks and cook your fatty goose in gook.
I pluck hair out of my head,
have been for weeks.
Black hair
Real depletion. mind has been dead for days.
So I say, let the weepers cry another day.
Ill catch myself
the mind that falls.
Ill swing my arms before she breaks.
Oh I will,
I always do or will this be the last towel with **** smeared across it.
the last hair plucked the last tobacco chewed. the last screenplay to finish.
Ill catch him, I always do.
finish the damn deed, write and write and breathe.
Distort countenance portrait
inside the frame of my face
Looking at Mona Lisa smiling as
Leonardo da Vinci paints the
world in black and white,
and then he put it on a Axis to
revolve around the sun that
sleeps at night.
Blankets of clouds deeply stain
with grey dye.
Dry rain flaking off the edge of
the mourning sky.
If the Rainbow was really a
Bridge I would
Walk across and set the sun
because
After the blue-sun set the day
die.
Old red tears crystallize in all
the weepers eyes
Black feathers falling with
echoes of angel cry
The colours black and white got
soul that is why we all going to
live to die
I arise in love with love
it grows its fruit out of my wings
love makes my heart sing, romance.
love makes me selfless in a state of agape.
love keeps me thinking in isolation,
hoping in dejection.
love makes me express on bed of roses
entangled an intertwind in bliss
woven passions that rejects lust, yet invites love.
the necter is sweet
as pleasures trancend and ravish my trinity
oh love is faithfull, willing and definately able.
oh definately able!
Love existed before Cain killed Abel
It will bring joy to it's possessors
Captivating it's keepers
Uplifter of weepers
Bringing pleasure to those who express it,
who
grow it
live it
make it.
Trust Again
Why doubt now, when in the past your trust has been your strength?
Why doubt now, when knowing love will prevail at length?
Why doubt now, new promises, new hopes will be in vain,
When doubting still you cannot see the love that's there so plain.
Face the future smiling... weepers never win,
Make up your mind to trust anew,
Forget about past sin.
Forget the hurt,
Forget the pain,
Remember love, and love again.
ENOUGH!
Hark ye preachers of doom lovers of despair
Enough about the blue rose!
Enough I say enough!
Enough about that harbinger of heartburn
that flatulent burner of forehead and cheek
that lurker in tenebrous places – abandoned old houses
banks of the Styx
That lurker must die of morbid thirst!
I champion I give you the white white rose
that late light comer
brightener of every corner
that white hope when hope is nearly gone
Hear you serial moaners
weepers
groaners
Behold if you dare
(I think you secretly love your blue misery)
Behold the white white rose
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