Once I am sure there's nothing going on
I step inside, letting the door thud shut.
Another church: matting, seats, and stone,
And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut
For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff
Up at the holy end; the small neat *****;
And a tense, musty, unignorable silence,
Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off
My cycle-clips in awkward reverence,

Move forward, run my hand around the font.
From where I stand, the roof looks almost new-
Cleaned or restored? Someone would know: I don't.
Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few
Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce
'Here endeth' much more loudly than I'd meant.
The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door
I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence,
Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.

Yet stop I did: in fact I often do,
And always end much at a loss like this,
Wondering what to look for; wondering, too,
When churches fall completely out of use
What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep
A few cathedrals chronically on show,
Their parchment, plate, and pyx in locked cases,
And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep.
Shall we avoid them as unlucky places?

Or, after dark, will dubious women come
To make their children touch a particular stone;
Pick simples for a cancer; or on some
Advised night see walking a dead one?
Power of some sort or other will go on
In games, in riddles, seemingly at random;
But superstition, like belief, must die,
And what remains when disbelief has gone?
Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky,

A shape less recognizable each week,
A purpose more obscure. I wonder who
Will be the last, the very last, to seek
This place for what it was; one of the crew
That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were?
Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique,
Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff
Of gown-and-bands and *****-pipes and myrrh?
Or will he be my representative,

Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt
Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground
Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt
So long and equably what since is found
Only in separation - marriage, and birth,
And death, and thoughts of these - for whom was built
This special shell? For, though I've no idea
What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth,
It pleases me to stand in silence here;

A serious house on serious earth it is,
In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,
Are recognised, and robed as destinies.
And that much never can be obsolete,
Since someone will forever be surprising
A hunger in himself to be more serious,
And gravitating with it to this ground,
Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in,
If only that so many dead lie round.

They trow me in flames
and they ask me why am I killing me
They ask me «why do you care»
Then they ask me «why don't you care»

They want to see me full of feelings
But they don't want me to show my pain
They want me perfect
And they want me carefree
They want to hear mellow words
And they want me thoughtless

*And the others are just the others
and none measure them

It was under the foggy inebriation
in which I saw you

With your cool undertones of confidence
that shaded in the new character

We spat cool fire back and forth,
relishing in the burn.

And so brought forth the
quick paced double-speak

When innocent glances linger
and Accidental contact is maintained.

It grows unignorable and

Through the Murky Starlight
You see slivers of intentions
that stab with an intoxicating sting.

Pairings that are all too clear,
Close in on a reality in which

Our Mouths are only just inches away

And

The air that sits between us is
but a fragile atmosphere

The kind that
we're convinced can be thinned
through your litter of affections.

And suddenly I find myself
rooting for Global Warming.

Soundwaves Break
Vibrating through as
his heart swells
Building up sensations
an unignorable spell
Releasing an excitment
so divine he slides
out of his hiding
and begins to rise

I think the sea will welcome you
For I've seen it in your eyes a hundred times,
And heard it crashing through your voice.
I think it has much to teach you in wildness
For you hold in you the same immense, awesome power
It wields when it crushes ships
And batters cliffsides smooth,
And the same silvered grace
It sways with when the moon trails her fingers through the waves on clear nights.

It does not apologize for its savagery,
For the way it rakes its fingers across the shore,
The way it takes.
It cannot be small.
It cannot be meek.
It cannot be silent.
It cannot be
Tame-
Its gentleness and its violence are lovers, ever embracing
And it has never wondered
Why.

It IS, and it is
Exquisite in its rawness.
It can be smooth as glass, murmuring its great hush to the sands
And yet it can within a moment
Rage!
With no shame, no restraint,
Uncontainable and
Unignorable.

I see all of this beneath your skin when your face darkens and you think no one has noticed.
I see your vastness, pressing out,
And I see you soothe it back into silence.
I see it and it moves me toward it like the tide
With its feral beauty,

Yes-
I imagine the ocean will rejoice to rise around you and hold you up as a part of it,
For there are some people- I've said as much-
Who belong to the earth in a special way.
People whose feet the ground worships
And whose face the wind kisses
And whose fingers the grasses reach for.

People whose eyes
The sea lives in.

I imagine it waits for you.

A soothing mien
he has not
but like a shark
in a swimming pool
he has unignorable
presence

How she smiles
Melts my pain away
Takes me to a place
A glimpse of peace
Once a while
Like gentle breeze of green
And a happy sun
And pure air
Sanitised by nature herself
Touching the hairs of my skin
Clean
Lasting only a while
Not too long

I only catch a breath

Then back to regrets
Everyday spaces
Familiar places
Orchestrated in
Reverberated agonies of souls
Haunted by sin
Eating away inside our skin
A bit by beat
Pasts that will still lay
Before my eyes
With an uningnorable scent
Stubborn on my nose
On Statuses.
On WhatsApp.
On Posts
On Facebook
Wherever, my eyes look
Wherever, my life breeds
Wherever, my nostril finds air

Hanging strong
With such unignorable scent
Like freshly painted walls in cheap paint
Annoying
But
One that defeats love

Then she smiles again
With a little squeaky sound of laughter
Her little tongue
Peeking
Seeking
A shot at my soul

And I swear
Its only just
For a while
And again I am lost
In the gentle breeze of green
And yet again

I only catch a breath

.
NB) to my little darling Nealah
Heavens blessing.

📌 ~Nea-ism~

Poet : Joel Jokonia
Edited : Khana Moyo
Dated : 14April2020
Title : Breeze of green
~Number 11419~

Remake the photocrapsh, you have it,
edit, make the moment be that moment

and we redo the steps, the dance
in the process of time come to pass…

Breathe, be a bit aware, the air,
that essential other than I, is there,

all around us, one gaseous natural
substance us and all the other actual
air breathers,
some in constant meditation,
seeking mediation between spirit and

truth that life tests if I can perceive,
the suffocation of a story, conceived
in side my suit of fingers and toes and
bones and blood and meat and sinyew.
--------


Worth any reader's taken time, to make up
for enticing any one to follow a child
in search of lost time, I'd say none taken, none
left to find
usefull, filling a certain vacuum uses fructus
we yoost to take as needed granted. As cheese
from butter blessed with a meaty rancid taste.

Pre-posed, as supposed, positioned
up, above your head, above our eyes looking
up, into the thinning air beyond the morning fog.

Hear a jet plane, and think that noise unignorable,
then remember not hearing it for days, in the desert.

The ignorability established, test if I missed a sense
shut down class, perhaps I am the audience,
in silent meditation becoming one in time difference,
my peace,
I give,
not as the material reality gives, or is the world,
not all the material reality gives?

Wondering wonderfullness, full double el full,

necessary respiring, reselecting next moment
to breathe, re-in-ex-aspir'tual inter mingling me

and thee, the e, in all out joint efforting t'i
to fructify and die to leave seed soil cannot
suffocate.

Suffer it to be so now, thinking imagined touch,
the breath you take and replace with modified air,
humanized winds waft away the stench of our city,

our only physical existence place time sequence,
relative to mysteries too esoteric, by reputation,

if one never learns to use the good, to make good
a hope, a hook, with mystery, a sur-prize, un earned,

posed to be essential experience, once, for you alone,
the prize of personal recoknowsis acknowledged,

it's your party,
you can cry if you want to, but the art involved's
below you now,

as we took your breath away.
-------------

Fun with functionality, feeling your wish
to feel included, fecundity of same sour dough
higher minds than mine let be in thee
some how sure your part's done,
passed, missed cue, or
not.
The entertained remain, unaware… only knowing

the show must go on, and on,
and people,
on the whole, be having life
in the midst of life supporting

reality, recogentle, wise
teach
as trees teach, learn as nuts do. One
touch, one mind, one time to grow old in…

----------------

The daily ef'
fort ification va
vacation
cancelation …
looking away
at you, I think, at you,
I aim a wish, a joyish wish
wisht at a once,

upon which all stories dangle,
awaiting your attention, caught.

In the spirit of honesty, snared,
are we honestly acting strangely
similar,
similar tastes acquired, tasting
-----------

Echo rock effect stone groaning
-digital echo effect edit if you care, imagine
Peculiar order
own self first idiom, I am
become first ideal me, being
as good as
my word, and nothing more
esoteric than a reading mind's
recollection of a beauty envisaged

as an instant too brief to measure,
¿
instance,
in contextuality
stopped, and sensed
as a fly-by why, loosed for use
in curious arts, acadamized, apt
to wink at reasons feeding war,
to prove worthiness, what rule
gives order authorship legality,

in the scattered cosmos, who
orders each star to form from
?-
Point potential pose- d
to be
energy, itself mysterious, as to d
source and precognitionation put to work
as the works of God, the creator spirit entity,
put dhe PIE- put'erthere, core cognizance
in me, my child reminds me, for the duration.
Go is an order not a game.
Dare blame the temple servants, dare
cast aspersions at the spirit speaking,

gibberish, you wisht was peculiar, your query
run with your parameters set,
so your query
pulls from the spirit of timeless truth, a quest,
a duty,
a call to you, personally fit for your benefit,

maleficence despised sufficiently
to pass as white noise under signal. Go.

----------

generic me, reacting temper-mentally,
- getting to the crescendo way on
- down the line

to form a personality, a person like me,
emotionally tied to my character, my role

in your life, I see,
the other in the air out there, at the other
end of this wind

breath of life itself, certainly not all mine,
but I did add a touch of exhalent chaos,
in a laugh,
at recognition,
gnosis lies esoteric more within,
adipisci as if adept apt
at marking old regions lost to religion
- parrot headed afternoon paradisiacal
intentional, estate realization, holy place keeper,
mental, fundaments
minimum augments
happy old form gaseous wedom form,

beholder of beauty shown to set the meme,
look into my eyes, think mere words make minds

adversarial, as proverbial order impositioning,

in your brain, the ***** holding your will, if you
will, imagine another mind, with a habit in effect,

set to alarm me, when you see
the back of my head, and I do not turn to see you,

there you are any way, any in the official plethora
of thinkable ways around the obstacle
ambition definitely a needed virtue,
the will to know there is a good way,
the will to not steal, **** or destroy to make it
true
work applying patient perfection
to your tasked self, assigned early on to pursue, this bit
bait, curious bait, as scentual instunk ready, ready
ambitious ends means in minds, imagined done
is good as done,
Jesus said…

Two or more, you and me, endlessly
actual mental agreement, gentle, peacish
way beyond groovin', we be entering coknowing

eaching out, under our stars, we all know
what they are, they are near enough to feel

we each get this one big judgement day win, once…

ready to rock on, sit in witness position, watching
time pass, feeling memories sprout recollected laughs,
take the time, use your own, it never matters

looking back, from your self awareness instant, slo-most,

snap shot scene manurable, yep, gnoshit, that smell,

bucolic, fancy pants word, for real live process smell,
earth in cogitation, using a cast of billions of cloven hoof,
cud chewers fit to a stall and a milk ******* giant calf,

holy cow, each cow contentedly cogitates, how holy
am I to live in constant motherly bliss, and no
bogus science to make me feel lowly, mere meat maker,

for the sausage eaters needed to clean the windows,
so we all can look in on each other and say hello, did

you know this reality was here,
did you appear on purpose, or were you pre
supposed to be, so be ye do be.
Done.
Or don't, being as how here you are.

The end.
Now we wait. The point being made, when we feel it

really realizably so real holy cow, wow, milch for minds,
blowing past reasons for war, what would a holy city do?

----------------
Make a milkshake and use raw eggs.
Don't die.
Here, contemplation, using your knowing to construct
a shelter for a spirit,
a heart shrine, in memorium,
an avatar, that's the word, now, image made in mind,
non projected, kept bound under covering rules, why,

Gorgons are adapting to our air, as we all imagine
monstorous men leading conspiracies, breathing in teams,

fighting like hell to push back the peace cannabis brings
the furrowed fretful brow, high, low or middle, now,
- pushing back opening cannabinoid reception link
- thinking we all tuned in, is not true,
- the sixties I dropped out of,
- some boomers lived in, to this very day.

we all imagine the excess success allows, and the weight,
we all imagine the schedule, and the cameras, and think,

what, me worry? Will you take the esoterica to task, you

imagine life reset
to win the reasoning contentiousness,
with defined ambits being wills used
to lieve be the truth that Jesus said if
he is, believe it or not, leave go you know, if it were not so,

truth itself wills you know… you asked

let thy will be done, mine, I hold in place, conserving
certain truths fed me as a child, pledged in aliegiance.

Some values from when this world was lit by fire,
some of those eternal flames, never let it go out,
lessons used to arrange children on the pyramid,

few were told by their granddaddies
to laugh ten times today, and take
the long way around the mountains, find a stream
and keep its pace, time through space at any speed,

mellow is mental, mind frames are, as well. We think
we see the world one way, but we see it always good,

inherently good, inside the air we breathe and have
our being in, mind and brain barriers imagined,
fallen
long before the reasons for the ritual, right structur-al
to form as a temple made not by hand in mental form

living stones, I presume, am I standing on your toes?
Redone dances long left go be a fantasy from the cave wall.

- tips in times of self rejection, madness of art
devoted sons, once taken to an alter by a broken father,

God, take him, I'll break him, I'll make him like me,
don't let that be thy will, I'll walk with this limp,

but I'll not lie and claim Jacob's well ran dry.

The sack of values a poor man uses to stay alive, sur-
realize reason for being fine with sufficient suffering,

enough, to let me know, it is part of the process of time,
as recorded to be remembered, once
a prophet told you to pay attention, and as it appears,
to me, from here, my entire wedom did,

pay attention, with passionate joy, no lie, not even
to get by,
get past the poison
through the gifted, take life as granted found in a
willingness to whistle while you work, like a little tea ***,

here's my handle,
here's my spout,
tip me over and pour me out… do recall, do, once, redoness

dance on rare either real or otherwise, riverdancing ductility,

until I run out of breath.
And rest.
Riverwise on the seaside, going down.

When you get old life is as complicated as can be…
so- I fforget some things.
So, they had a saying, in the early day of open nicotine and caffeine,

put that in your pipe, and smoke it. Just let be the function. Peace
happens, seemingly by chance, often in Septembers,

made intentionally memorable for a good reason. We smile,
inner chuckle counts for laughing.
"Surely Feynman was not joking"

Let that be a lesson in legalizing enjoyed ennui, put to good use.

we will all die...

A sentence as merciless as Death itself.
Or maybe mercifull?
It's a thing to fear or take comfort in.
It means the unknown is an unignorable truth.
An obstacle bigger than our comprehension
an obstacle stronger than life. Yet dependant.
Circumstances and events lay at it's foundation
and if enough strings are cut
that massive obstacle will crush you.

It's not about give and take. Give and take is not life and death.
I as a person, as a living being am hardwired to live.
Such is inherent and I believe it to be a guideline for survival.

It's inconceivable how good we are at surviving.
I am drenched in this desire, in this curiosity to see what comes next.
Even as I am writing this with the utmost conviction that Death is an obstacle.

It only means one thing.

I am hardwired to achieve immortality.

"My God" he said.
"My God, why have you forsaken me?"

oh how the human condition
clouds the spirit deep within.

such pain and suffering
are distractions
absolutely unignorable

it is known,
it is understood,
it is forgiven..

those that suffer most
hear the inner call the least
they that need the most
are all but left deceased

let me share your burden, brother
that yoke upon your bothered shoulders
let me help your mind be still
so the light behind your window sill
can shine through

and with thorny crown removed
let us meditate
so as to fade that stained glass
allowing pure,
unfiltered rays to penetrate
unadulterated
uncorrupted
unrelayed

straight into the depths of your precious heart.

To be blinded by
the lack of knowledge
and vital information,
suddenly causing this unavoidable and unignorable
burning sensation,
this inflammation riled
up in my chest
not knowing what to say
next,
because your misguided thoughts
have out bested you once more
convincing you,
"you can't really know for sure the way... they feel about you"
keeping your mind from
ever being at rest
nonetheless, you have to wear
a brave face because one too
many times before you've been made to look
like a **** fool and
it's only ever left you an absolute mess..