Path Humble

Jul 2020

shepard david king

What does this life desire of me,
that it granted and
then removed,
the knowledge of perfection?
leaving me striving,
writhing,
shivering unceasingly,
in my saddened, bursting,
hacking and hackneyed chest

#sdk #life #desire #shephard #davidking

Path Humble Jul 2020

you have taken my voice, no longer can I

“you have taken my voice, no longer can I...”

~ for Rachel of Ireland, who asks and is granted endless words~

oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,
you have taken my voice,
no longer can I thread these words

oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,
you have taken my insight,
no longer can I hear my eyes visions

oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,
you have taken my mobility,
no longer can I shake to music of sky

oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,
you have taken my strength,
no longer can I bend knees in praise

oh my lord, oh my lord, oh my lord,
you have taken my taste,
no longer can I sing a greater part of me

these first words, my sacrifice of morning,
no more to follow, for I am speechless,
the eveningtide will find me bow-broken

you have taken my all that you have given,
tender it well to another, for we are temporary,
your gifts are everlasting, and together, we say

selah, amen.

my first words of this day

#path #humble #taken #voice #no #longer

Dec 2019

Poetoftheway

the simplest definition of our learning to count to infinity

“the simplest definition of our learning to count to infinity”

wrote those words
to a stranger in pain, awful pain,
asking him to count his blessings

now awful pain
no stranger to me

a pain four decades long,
that the surgeon promised was fully excised.

but today was triggered,
chest pain dagger ingredient emergency room

so I am counting for,
but not to,
counting on

infinity

when the wounding cannot be recalled,
only a minor scar to struggle from wonder whence
came it from

which is the definition of reaching the
infinity place,
where finite comes to rest

dec 10 2019

#simplest #definition #learning #count #infinity #poetoftheway

Path Humble Dec 2019

for she who loved me vainly

for she who loved me vainly

vainly
in a way that produced the result she undesired,
my response harsh and swift,
her fan-tasy has no place on serious battlefields

those poem are battlefronts mine,
that are the numbered chapters in
My Revelations

still, she still reads my poetry

think on it, it’s confusing,
my unkind cut that came from deep anger,
it was outed but not for her, because of her
but for me

for to love
permission must be asked and both
given

and the line is wavy but 100% solid.

but reading my poetry, is that a violation as well?

my poems are me inside out.

but if you look in me deepest,
forgiveness is there,
not seeking contact,
but hate
is inconsistent
with walking a
path humble

#she #who #loved #me #vainly #path #humble #ph

Path Humble Aug 2019

your best stuff will never be posted here

your best stuff will never be posted here
<>

goose, you crack me up,
your bests stuffs can never be posted,
the tender stroke away of a child’s tear,
the welcoming of a smile delightfully unexpected,
a first grade art project so successful
it is mounted forever on a
front door Hall of Fame

a good cry all your own,
in private sobbing,
mouth mourning the absence of
a kiss on the back of your neck
shivers with surprising waves of pleasure,
that announces you are more than noticed

if you can post these stuffs,
call me asap,
because that’s the sight
I wanna see & be,
when only the best stuff you got given,
given got,
becomes real

10:03am

4/11/19

#your #best #stuff #will #never #be #posted #here #path #humble

Path Humble Sep 2018

sit in safety under your own vine and fig tree

“every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.”*

Letter from George Washington, 1790, to the Jewish community of Newport, Rhode Island

<•>

multiple motifs present poesy alternatives,
but one supremes

safety in your own chosen orchard,
supping on clear water, wine and figs
children of trees, nurtured by one’s own hands,
children of your children, running the grove,
shouting out in sweet safety

the wasps happy shameless pollinate,
dreaming of more generations,
ruefully smiling, thinking of
Adam and Eve, who ashamed of
their apple’d sexuality,
hid their nakedness of course beneath
the safety of
fig leaves

you do not pray for safety
you do not ask for anything,
nothing to fear says the father,
for you already live in our own
George’s garden of eden

#eden #vibe #fig #washington #safety #ph #pathhumble

Sep 2018

PamCom

And This Is How You Fall

One day, you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love
with the nape of the neck and the lobe of the ear
you’ll want to nibble just above the edge of the jaw
and run your fingers through the tousled spirally hair,
but the slight quiver of curved lips will halt you in thoughts
as the darting pupils furtively flutter behind closed eyelids
searching for a break of dawn in the shadows of a room
where dust hangs heavily then settles in unsuspecting lungs
making the rise and fall of the chest raspy and laborious,
making nostrils flare up to make room for something less heavy
something more familiar, more light and less lugubrious,
something like a touch on the curve of the neck just below
the edge of the jaw and a whisper of something gentle
that nibbles on the ear as erring fingers run through spirally hair,
sending waves of shivers that make curved lips quiver and
darting pupils flutter enough to one day break open closed eyelids
where you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love.