Words do not echo.
Words do not cry.
Words do not,
Identify.
Scrambled and stirred,
Frozen and baked.
Pulled when needed,
Eaten to be fed.
Pieced together,
Black or white,
Laugh or fight,
Wrong or right.
A sound is bound by key,
A picture by color pigments,
Emotions chemically,
But words contain,
Everything,
And absolutely,
Nothing.
The same word
Can be
Completely
Different,
Depending who, what, how
When it was read
Or written.
What if every word,
Was positive in meaning?
Harmless,
Could not
Destroy feelings.
Words have no senses.
Words have no bounds.
No touch, sight, taste, or smell.
Words have no sound.
Words have no sound.
Unless read aloud.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 8:23 AM UTC
It flies amongst the stars.
Flashes for a moment.
Despite the left scars.
Holds a place close, yet far.
It carries the fallen.
From mistaken paths.
To reaches impossible.
And develops new plans.
It creates new countries.
Raises dead soldiers.
Stamps unsung heroes.
With a feeling of free.
Hear its silent sound.
Open up your eyes.
Place it in your heart.
Elevate from the ground.
It helps us climb.
Better than rope.
Do you see its shape?
It is hope.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
We will never understand the reason
If we only focus on this life
Or the purpose of God and the plans that he's got
For the good of all mankind
If we only see daily mounting troubles
And not the Glory that's soon to come
That God set aside when his son came to die
Offering that free gift to everyone
While some gladly take, others seal their own fate
Judging themselves apart from God's Love
Setting all of the blame on the God who loves them
Thinking they know when they clearly don't
In speaking those words they just add to the curse
An eternity of Hell fire and brimstone
Because somehow they think for them to believe
They first must give everything up
No way could they know the treasures bestowed
For those who die to themselves
Giving all that they have to what forever lasts
Forsaking everything else
We never will understand the reason
If we only focus on today
Instead of what's to come in the heavenly relm
While what we have here quickly passes away
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 6:46 AM UTC
All my stubborn perditions
Are our concluded accord
You're the devil dominant
I'm your enslaved soul
I'm just your playing product
Still I can't do nothing
Those indirect consequences
Of my oppressive rebellion
Can't wash away from the rash
Floating In your every cursed direction
Has became a god- gift
Cause I've made my life just to experience your sins
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 7:01 AM UTC
I just bought a turkey
In dire need of tenderize
Also a quick summer thaw
As this chick's as cold as ice
Must have froze it in the tundra as
I dive deep into the internet
Where it's got me wondering
Why I myself didn't think of this
It says to tie up both it's legs
With a nylon stringy thingy
Hey! Get that out your head!
This ain't nothing *****
Hook the turkey to the bumper
And take it for a ride
I watched it from my rear view
And mirror on the side
I watched it twirl and tumble
I watched it twist and shout
I watched it as it changed its shape
From inside into out
I thought I heard it gobble
As it bounced itself along
Checking progress at every red light
Tenderized...yes, but not yet thawed
The roads must be colder this year
Than at first I thought
I hop back into my jalopy
For a few more jaunts around the block
I make it back to my place
Thinking all is perfect all is well
Untie the turkey, if that's what it is
It's a little hard to tell
Now with that part of the preparation done
With the turkey and I safe back home
I plop it into the waiting oven
And gently turn it on
Here we are a few hours later
As the conversations and good times begin
Sitting around the dinner table
My guests all marvel at my hen
There's only one slight question
And they asked me if I knew
I reply...why yes that is white meat
It's just a tad bit bruised
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 12:50 PM UTC
It's not my juvilant benevalence
To gift you joyfully
The one closest to my mind
It's my brutal sacrifice
To test my kind
It's not my humble request
To be a graceful partner
It's my harsh discouragement
To be your part and parcel
What you think isn't what I believe
What you believe is actually what I think
Which is why I don't think what you blindly believe
Cause I'm a ladder amidst..
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
.
*Boiling clouds approach the dawn,
a profusion of sinister foreboding,
banking up to obscure the day,
a menacing storm just reloading.
A figure runs across the moor,
panic and purpose in hostile flight,
pursued relentless across the heather,
desperately chasing the receding night.
A treeline beckons promising safety,
a disguise from the hunters view,
open ground slips passed slowly,
the forests sanctuary calls anew.*
I wake startled, heart hammering in my chest,
fight or flight images seek my mind to infest.
The pounding in my head, hooves on a forest floor,
provoke shivers, as rivulets upon a dampened moor.
My breathing slows and sweat dries upon my skin,
a sense of belonging starts to grow from within.
Dazed I slip sideways out of my comfort bed,
and stare into the mirror at the antlers on my head.
I return to the bed and casually slide back in,
wondering where my fantasy dreams had been,
but all I discovered was another fitful sleep
as the images form of a treasure I keep.
**Memory bubbles up and I am in a glade,
sun shining bright and sat in the shade.
Billhook and bow saw propped by a tree,
the life in the forest feeling good to me.
Peace and tranquility, I counted my luck,
when out of the trees sprang a young buck.
So fragile but already magnificent and proud,
stomping his hooves, snorting out loud.
Brave and insolent he looked at my eyes,
staring me down, holding caution so wise.
A look passed between us, a mute reflection,
an instant mind meld of atavistic connection.
I was He and He was me,
my spirit guide for eternity.
And the sun shone upon us in that glade,
the forest spirits celebrating that bond made.**
*With failing energy, tired from the chase,
a thought of doom and my senses race.
Taking rest in the heart of a clearing,
a quick twang and the pain is searing.
Surrounded in a trap the hunters prepared,
there is no way of escape, I am ensnared.
The loosed arrows point is sharply felt,
as a crimson flood stains my pelt.
Mind is swooning and my legs bend.
This is not how the Old Tales end ...*
The scythe of Death merrily reaps,
lightening strikes, thunder rolls.
The frigid grave waits so silent,
empty, for he whom the bell tolls.
*Boiling clouds obscure Dawns pale skies,
as the hunters horn in triumph it cries.
This is the End, when the dream dies.
My heart is still and I gently close my eyes.*
© Pagan Paul (11/11/17)
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 12:48 PM UTC
My heart is a bank
Of your treasury
You're the fauna
Of heart's biodiversity
The stars crept into Windows
The Moon started shying
The valleys got their lost chaos
Reluctantly or otherwise
Wish you the greatest years ahead
And the Happiest and Blessed Birthday
Yeah...As usual... belated...
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 7:18 AM UTC
What if life was played in fast forward?
Would you look more, out the window?
See the buildings, the missing trees?
The colors changed, painted in steel?
Focus on folds, beneath your cheeks?
Spend time with the once, called lonely?
What if life was played in reverse?
Would you redo things, differently?
Experience reality?
Change your lack of identity?
Free your mind of not feeling free?
Rethink responsibilities?
What if life was paused?
Would you be doing, what you are doing right now?
What is the first thing that comes to mind?
What about the colors on your brush?
Do you think that they are enough?
Are you still on the right track?
What if life had to be lonely?
Would you use your voice to speak?
Is there a reason to listen?
What rules would you want to create?
Would you understand heartbreak?
Would you bother to hit replay?
Either way we all reach the end.
But we write separate screenplays.
Decide our fate and how we blend.
And how we fast forward our days.
Hopefully we are not the same.
Get to use our voice and listen.
To lose ourselves would be a shame.
Or to move forward, not driven.
Remember, your life is in play.
And should not be thrown away.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC