Life is a series of tests
armies of unwelcome guests
wave after wave of insect pests ~
From them a crown you must wrest
If I can’t climb the mountain,
I will find a way around;
what matters is reaching the place
destiny has mapped before me.
If wrestling shadows is required,
I will fight them to succeed;
for in the book of life,
each page must turn with time,
its wisdom carefully absorbed
before the next is revealed.
As though life resents our existence,
it serves difficulties as daily bread.
To drink from the cup of victory,
forged in the furnace of success,
one must grow small as a camel
passing through the needle’s eye.
Success lies hidden in life’s belly;
one must pry open its clenched jaw,
wrest the sweetness it has swallowed,
before the songs of triumph are sung.
Though life’s teeth are igneous stone,
I will seize the molten magma,
shape it before it hardens,
and rise, crowned in blazing triumph.
If discipline be righteous let me stray but for a while
And beg the Fates indulgence on the morrow
For surely cruel as fate can be
There's kindness in the breast for he that
Strays in ways gods envy and admire
If heaven smile the while you dally
Lost in that space none dared precede
It can't but wonder how creation
Dwelling under heaven's folly
Follows on the path you have created
Hearts together beating as two within one breast
Facing love with nothing in between
One casting from the mold the gods broke on request
The fate not resting til it wrest from Chronos
Moments precious lost in time now found
Lives entwined as flames no quenching thirst can hold
So bright the night can hold no purchase on the soul
Hearts aflight would light now holding fast against the darkness
Which would swallow and consume that light most richly blest
Whose purchase can outshine all heavens gold
“I’d rather love a million times and have my heart broken every time, than hold a permanently empty heart forever.” –H.C. Paye
...........................................................
Pure wickedness sets you apart,
Meanwhile, true love you led me to assume.
You purposefully broke my heart,
Leaving my vases filled with wilted blooms.
Yet I deter not; my heart lives to love,
Through many heartbreaks, still I'm strong.
I handle all pain with a gentle glove,
And confront every fear headlong.
The more the grief, the more I'll care,
Your stare can't scare me from loving again,
Only true love can wipe each tear,
New love's insight freed my heart of your pain.
My heart will never be devoid of zest,
For love always brings warmth to me,
From the ruins of your love, joy I'll wrest,
So the sadness you left will flee.
God so good, true love I have found ~
a feeling I'd never before now felt,
a joy that leaves my heart spellbound,
And makes all my aches completely melt.
death’s the ultimate earth life test
a reality check that chokes
what we hold onto fate does wrest
whence we see this dream life’s a hoax
Imagine!
" Kind Words", revealed as piercing bands
of sunlight gently melting mist of morning dew.
Shredded strands of light appear blazing
through leaves blanketing forest deep.
Restrain bitter words that deny
the flourishing seed to yield its return.
Observe, we are better
when "Kind Words" are spoken.
When, from a painful sobering voice,
the soul beckons for repose.
No respect returned to break the moment in.
for where is the glory in it?
"Kind Words" cleanse!
Glory won in a word of kindness spoken.
Life, though as short as a breath,
needs no hand to uproot or wrest.
To labor upon ones crowded faults,
proves a shackle to blissful results.
"Kind Words", a gift for thee!
Friend,
Silence listens,—every thought we think,
each new feeling which soundless trickles by,
the twinge of untold pain, the snuck-in sigh,
are registered within the margin’s ink
Friend,
Silence listens (better than your shrink),—
in worries sunken deep below the “I”,
the subterranean soul, the scrying spy,
dutifully encodes each missing link.—
Observe the many mangled manners your mood
wrings its revenge out from your wet-cloth mind.—
To wrest the terror from your burning breast,
it twists your vision—perception, once skewed
unkowingly invites the shades inclined
to test your tensed chest’s breath of stressed rest.
“may gifts of silence illumine our mind ~
childlike heart becoming loving and kind”
~ quote by poet
as we gather pebbles in our heart’s nest
we may do well to pause and then reflect
that all we hold onto death’s tongs will wrest
leaving our deluded soul here shipwrecked
play of life is in incessant motion
where we cannot cross the same river twice
a quiescent heart ending commotion
whence each moment in time is paradise
gifts of solitude strengthen fortitude
that poised in the void by thoughts not decoyed
our aura is with love and light imbued
revealing pure light of Self unalloyed
contrast desire with soul’s eternal fire ~
search for truth within, in silence inquire
w o r d s
wondrously wielded
warm wenches
wise with witless wet with woe
w i c k e d
weaselly wolves
w i z a r d s
warping wills
watering wishing wells
waylaying wishful
w o m e n
who wanted worshipful watchmen
when winters would wrest wealth
!
My Land
This is my land.
I will cultivate, love, and cherish my land.
I will choose when Spring will come,
I will choose my own Husbandman,
I will choose if there be none,
I will choose when the rain will be,
And choose if and who will plant a seed.
This is my land.
My soil will nourish, protect, and feed.
My soil may remain fallow,
My soil gives the fruit we need,
My soil should be hallowed.
My soil from a will that's freed,
You have no power over me.
This is my land.
You have fought, died, and thrown your gold.
You value this above most things.
You may scorn this fertile female soul,
You may deny my right to be,
You may try to wrest control,
But this land belongs to me.
Inheritance from the King of Kings,
Yes, this land belongs to me.
A guide suspended by the thread of time offers itself,
Where the soul clothes us in garments of flesh and beginnings.
The filigree of words breathes on the parchment of eternity, intertwines,
Speaks of sunsets as embraces of gods falling into sin,
Of celestial concerts, where the wings of dawn fade into shades of oblivion.
Of bursts of laughter woven like secret torrents from deep within the earth.
Of love, of the nebulae of the heart stretching over an infinity of realities.
But the guide to live it—routes lacking the breath of life,
Like maps to a continent of the soul, born from mist and dreams.
The brochure, like an oracle, speaks in whispers of shadows dancing on walls,
And of failures, perhaps like frosty days taking root.
Death is but a signature, a nail placed in the wall of fate.
We wander through the odyssey of words, seeking the essence, a candle to burn in the darkness of uncertainty,
A guiding star to wrest us from the march of clay puppets and breath.
And we find, finally, serene upon the scriptural horizon line:
"The realm you build is yours—beyond the gate of beginnings, time is a river without bridges."
The need to create is born in our heart
But heart’s desire is hijacked by ego
We see clearly head and heart stand apart
So cause of inner conflict we now know
We recognise why life’s hit a new low
Carrying a heavy load on our chest
Born of seeds of desires we chose to sow
What we manifest becomes our life test
To restore our soul’s light is a learnt art
Requiring of us to make our thoughts slow
Patterns of old as we reboot, restart
Life becomes easy, we begin to flow
We bend down low letting God’s grace endow
Control of life from our ego we wrest
That our heart may again be pure like snow
What we manifest becomes our life test
When desires recede, we see fear depart
Our countenance acquires a living glow
As we deem all souls as one, none apart
We’re quick to repay debts of love we owe
Garnering wisdom which we alone know
Whence with each breath we offer God our best
Making our touch gentle and heart mellow
What we manifest becomes our life test
Blissful in the boat God Himself does row
To embody love and light is our quest
Bliss beats within rise, we enjoy the show
What we manifest becomes our life test
even erasure -
my meaningful memory
won't wrest wanton will
Those who hate him
are on the attack
That vile, vulgar specimen
Donald J. Trump is back
Don't look now, but so is Jill Stein
"Replace capitalism with
'democratic' socialism," she still whines
Then there's Hilary Clinton
in the newsfeeds again
Seems her 2016 shellacking is now
'oh-so-way-back-when'
And then there's Cornel West
who will fight to wrest
'toxic institutions' like marriage
and family from every household's nest
So for those of you who cling to
Trump Derangement Syndrome
Vote for Stein, Clinton or West
~ or just give up and stay home
Tjhe Cretans have centered there
intentions
made foly of the traditions
stood in the Pool of Rightousness
to drink the wines of endearment and affection
callously they decieve
for those who belive
and shall rub the ointments
of victory in there losses
Might the moon emcompass the
straddlers
to brring them into aligment with
Talus!
There they shall stand as men
before the God of Wrest
each seed sown
to bare the friut
the bark of the trees
to make the leather
the presious metals smelted
formed and trimmed with
the gem stones
Talus stand before me
that I have labored
and am Champion above all!
Talus recognize me attop all these men
that I am Champion of
Champion
on every coast
in every feild
to sell every conseccion
That I am recognized
to all men as best
before me no other
and after me the same
Champion
recognized by such adornments!
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