Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Do not plan or plot
happiness.
Plant your roots deep
dig in to fertile soil,
send out words and deeds
of truth.
Then
enjoy
what comes back to you
 Dec 2014
wordvango
I offer a humble offering, a not very well written song,
on this eve of Xmas, my heartfelt wishes
that Santa Claus visits, each and everyone.

Let me gather you all in the square,
and sing sleigh and jingle bells
while gathering rosy cheeks together
and sing to humanity.

Ole' Saint Nick on his sleigh is around
the corner, remember, when we were three,
how we anticipated.

Let us hope and suspend disbelief,
hear reindeer hoofs on the roof,
for just one Xmas,
again!
 Dec 2014
wordvango
is wishing all little boys have shoes
     is that we sing everyday
the way we do today

My wish is if Jesus
       came today
he would be proud of me.

My Christmas wish
           is to end all misery,
is to be like him.

I strive, as we all do,
             to attain heaven on
Earth.

That does not ever
            mean it is
impossible.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Standing before me
its green boughs reaching high,
I wonder the Christmas Tree why?

Does it stand for the
history of man-
his goodwill?

Or, for the world
of the future that
awaits, still?

'tis glitter , 'tis tinsel
a peaceful glow,
do they come from a world
you and I know?

Pledge, to me Christmas tree,
that you stand for tomorrow.
Where hope and  brotherly love
replace turmoil
and
sorrow.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Bach's "little fugue"
            played while figure eights
whistled in my head,
               along with mathematics
to an un-equilibrium point
           where self-confidence
meets self-doubt.

So, in
illusions created by the exact same demons
that saw the bottom from the top
and the   pope as part of a conspiracy,
I created a theory, and ended in a padded room.

I painted spots on walls not assimilating
anyone others works,
became my own victim,
committed to rationality
while acting eccentrically.

Visions came to me, I sought refuge in them,
things I saw the real world calls bug-brained.

There I envisioned the cosmos as a limit imposed
on one's relation to self. I saw the dynamics of  human conflict
as interludes of forced sanity.

I went as quick as I came.

forced into what I don't want to do
I enjoyed the chorus arranged in my head.
Like a game between people I don't understand.

I sneak into Princeton and proved the existence of God. in red sneakers unaware my theory was economic realism.

Then I rejected voices.

And won the Nobel Prize.
A poem about a mad mathematical genius! John Nash! True story.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Amid the soils and grit of
life and pleasures   pursuit
of happiness may one find
the fruit of perfection? In some museum
eclipsed in heaven?
Or on Madison Avenue or on a magazine cover?
Or in some religion?  What sect?
Or may we have as much luck planting a banana
peel in a hole we dug and filled with ****?
Positive outlooks are necessary, but roses don't grow here
in December and bananas are imported and petroleum
is now cheap and internet is wireless
and lunar eclipses and we all arose from some explosion
and , god forbid, my parents had ***. Otherwise,
I would not be here writing, this ****.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
a treatise on compatibility this is theoretically
presented
by a linguist with limited trigonometry sense
   and since the heart beats and is 360 degrees
I sought out a tangent to measure her with
    or sine to figure out logically
whether we were compatible
             like functionally
on a straight line or tangentially
    perpendicularly
in degree and cosines or measurement mathematically
similar
then found no co-efficient to portray
her smile
fell out of my array
with nothing else
to equal
her.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
Love
           poem rhyme
with a sky blue
wondrous
                  white
puffy
glory

hues of day, yester-

mysticisms
                  arranged,
in brightest color
                     (alphabeticaly ordered)
which-

             man denies.

letters
of hopefulness-
                        arrange
right
         or wrong
                        in song
express,
the searing depths.

a lover's stare,
                or thy flowering
                               innocence.

From dawn,
         to dusk,
      nothing left out,
love-
         so calm
                       so eloquent-
 Dec 2014
wordvango
her eyes were blond
a breast of Valentines
awestruck, we was by
*** that stuck out into yesterday and a face that
would make you     kiss her dad,
a friend of mine, stuck an elbow
into my rib and said, she's lookin'
at you. I knew she was.
But, was it because i was droolin'
 Dec 2014
Kelly Rose
A festive time
we share
Slowly now
the light shall return

The Winter Solstice
is upon us

From one
who always goes
left instead of right

May joy and happiness
find you
as the light
slowly returns

May the gentle
touch of Eirene
live within your soul
Easing
any weariness
that has taken its toll

Not only for today
but for all the
days that follow

Happy Holidays everyone

May this 1st day of Winter
find you wrapped
in warmth
Leaving strife
on the outside
While you are
toasting and celebrating life
12/21/2014
 Dec 2014
wordvango
As a lifelong adventure I eclipsed the generation I was grown up with
felt so much that turned wrong and sad on November 12, 1934
should have been born different
I kept up to date and conceptually relate
I would have been honored to be at Woodstock it's like I was there
in my head and psychedelics and mushrooms
were my references and Beatniks along with
Carlos Casteneda influenced me from deserts .
My philosophy grew and reasoned, until now where I see greed and
possessions are so important.
I never lost the dream, though,
of Peace on Earth.
 Dec 2014
wordvango
To all at Hello Poetry!
   So many poems are written to woes.
I challenge you all to write humorously,
  lift my spirit.
Make me laugh, because I am in need of, laugh.
    I create now a category a challenge to smile for.
Post and create
       and all smile!
 Dec 2014
wordvango
comes many times before the ultimate
******
proceeding that last gasp tiny spasms
are spent
working towards the best and brightest
we lift
our pajamas many times and let life in.
Memory
may recall that last second
but
will never tell. That moment will forever be
most private.
Next page