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MOTV Dec 2015
He alone speaks a poem,

Laughs at first, then breaks a beat with bass that rings the dome

Booom Boom Bah

Yea

It is easy

Mc cheesy

Type of flow that gets the breezy

Hot and out

Fast and quick

Woe to the devilish

I rearrange the rebel

Sip on this

Like some drank, you got from 7/11

Spit it out

Because it tastes of heaven

Glory homie to the holy thoughts of growing in the home of he who is most high oh so fly I am that guy talking to minds eyes floating in right times speaking with odd man enshrined, guts for glory shoot it make it and own it
cannot stop the boldest, roaming, spitting glaciers so freezing cold.

Bits and pieces are put together
mind in a nimbus cloud
in any weather
creative cloud hold me now
i am bound atop it now
an angel not from hell
only here to tell
hear me now
as you see the cow
saw them bow
odd spits about
the past ancient type of hit I guess
one day someone will study it
the minds of all who look to God
then get corrupted by an idol star or a mind departing from the souls golden heart
dam is that it?
We lost it again and again
we be talking
I can make hits
a gin with the wish
but would you sell your soul for a piece of Earth
that will implode when the star has taken enough of this *******
I guess we can give it quits
anytime but right now the divine has all of my mind
I cannot let go
luke warm has got me to being this low
is commitment what you need for anything to succeed
I reseed back the vast heavens
that your minds seem to lack
can't see past dimensions
because humans don't believe in things
so fairy like
I barely write because I fall to blight every day and night

woe

I shall let you let go

go

they say

I fall asleep again for weeks on end now I can comprehend that I can fly again.

Yes again.

The times run on end and I will be at the right place and time when it comes, my friend.
Batool Nov 2015
Her heart
was like
an ancient book
burried deep in
the golden sand of
the forbidden tomb,
hidden in a barren desert...

He was so determined
to find that heart...
after years of hardship
He found her heart
not interested in decoding
the inscript,
he never tried to read
or understand the book,
and just kept that heart
as a trophy ...

Far away,
in another land
lived an archealogist
who through his whole life
only learnt to decode
the ancient script
only to read that book
but was coward enough
to never start the journey
so he just lived there
longing for her heart...
Robert C Howard Nov 2015
Earth (Pangaea)

Pangaea heaved and shifted
beneath the fire-storm sky.
Colliding plates and spewing mountains
shook, roared and thundered
under the brutal chaos
of torrential cataclysms.

In time she yielded her ire
to millennia of pacific rains -
her severed crust
set adrift across the oceans
like gigantic earthen rafts.

Jungles sprang up and terrible lizards
came, grazed and left their bones.
Forests, grains and multifarious beasts
grew and perished in accord
with their past and future destinies.

So here we are - earthbound,
tossed from our mothers' wombs -
fated to live and breed
by the grace of miracles
far beyond our ken.

Beloved mother Gaia,
from whose dust we are raised,
nurture and sustain us
and sing us to our mortal sleep.

2. Air

Air - earth's miracle brew of
     oxygen, nitrogen and all the rest
          meted out in perfect harmony.

Air - silent and still on a moonlit night -
     driver of sheeted rain on window panes -
          and winds that shake the trembling aspens.

Air - author of land and ocean squalls -
     bringer of that ominous pallor
          that presages a tornado's furor

Air - invisible aerial highway
     for majestic eagles and turbo-jets -
         medium of rhetoric and symphonies.

Air – window to the cosmos
      and our fragile life–giving broth -
          unwitting conveyer of toxic alchemy.

Keep watch my sisters and brothers:
     the air we breathe is what we make it
          or rather what we let it be.

3. Water

Water like a capricious deity
     wanders through time and topography -
     cherished and cursed for
     what it gives and what it takes away.

Gentle rains and strident gales
     sculpt rivers and streams
     through forests and plains
     bound for union with the open sea.

Diurnal tides ebb and wane
     at the whim of the charismatic moon.
     Ice mountains advance and retreat;
     rock-strewns moraines left in their wake.

Turbulent currents
     soar over jagged cataracts,
     spraying pastel prisms
     across the misted valleys.

Beneath our all too fragile skins,
     secret sanguine rivers navigate
     our veins and arteries
     bathing organs, limbs and sensors
     with curative balm and sustenance.

Wellspring of all elements,
     fill our daily ladles
     and grant us the will and empathy
     to bequeath the same to our progeny.

4. Fire

Two hundred million years ago
our Paleolithic cousins
seized branches from a burning forest
and stepped into a bold new world.

By the glow of fire-lit caves,
and the scent of searing venison,
they gathered wits and tools
to craft shelters and weaponry.

Their children's children would design
forges and furnaces, factories
and build engines that run on fire.

But their anxious siblings in despair
snatched lightning from the sky
and twisted by fits of anger pride
made also muskets, missiles, bombs
and nuclear Armageddons.

Loki, god of nobler flames
open our blood-stained eyes
and show us the means
to stay our arson lust and
abide by the light of reason.

*Revised and integrated version, December, 2015
These four poems are aligned with a set of piano preludes of the same title completed 12-21-2016. Here is a link to the music https://clyp.it/user/1qruizko
Jolene Heather Nov 2015
She was wild in a way that was swaying and ancient
It was not a crazy whipping about of emotion
But a building swell and a powerful and slow release
But most did not understand this
So when they touched her hips
They just held on
But she needed someone
To do so much more than hold on
She needed that slow
So slow you didn’t know it was happening
Slow steering
Gentle erosion
Like the water does to the mountain
The wind to the desert
She needed those ancient drums
To keep her rhythm
To loose her demons
To be free
Stanley Wilkin Nov 2015
Intense and distant, the sun
Slid imperceptibly upward through the yellowing sky
As the ships powered across the water
Oars cutting into the waves.
Like a crumbling sentinel, on the cragged promontory
The temple observed the sea. Within
Sat Poseidon, golden trident in hand, his
Features frozen into gleaming marble. Around
Him, murmuring incantations, marched
His priests.
Time has dismantled it all, except
For the pillars that poke upward, jagged
Snapped-off fingers of stone clothed
In moist, inch-thick moss. The ships
Have long disappeared. The crews dead.
Beneath the waves the turbulent god
Waits, his muscular invisible arms
Shaking the ground, as he roars out
His discontent. Reduced to bedtime stories,
Beautiful Technicolor films, the old gods
Drift hopelessly through the memory
Desperately trying to be noticed again.
Christian Bixler Oct 2015
The Oak stands tall in the verdant spring,
his hair arrayed all about him, resplendent
in leafy splendor. Birds sing in his branches.

Vigor runs in his ancient veins, his boughs
heavy with seeded acorns; squirrels chatter in
his reaching limbs, arms stretched to the azure
heavens, in that time of swelling Summer.


The cool wind blows, in Autumn, in time. Leaves
flushed with crimson hue, fall to lie amid the great
oaks roots, and among the faded grass, sighing; The
fox hunts in the flaming wood.


The old oak stands firm, its branches swaying in the
cold winds of winter. Its boughs are bare, its stems are
black, the bear is sleeping, the days are short. Yet life
remains in the sleeping wood, buried deep, waiting for
the song of the laughing brook, for the robin and the
thrush; waiting for green Springs return.
The Oak is my favorite tree, Spring and winter my favored seasons. Joy and miracles abound.
Ancient leviathan,
City in sands
Razed in a roar.
Now silence stands

Taller than your
Pillars did before
As the world looks on
It can’t but abhor

Let sleep find your
Great arches now
Though brought down
They did not bow

For their shadows
Outstretch the hand of man
And the rote of
All religion’s plans.

They did not destroy!
They have not won!
And in undoing
Become
undone.
Poem written for national poetry day in the UK, I am an archaeologist, I studied Aegean archaeology, and covered the levant extensively, It pains me that ISIL are destroying these relics... so I wrote about it.
Invocation Oct 2015
How am i supposed to only fall in love with one person at a time
I love so many people and what i share with them is my business, yeah?
Lush green forest, full of mystery yet full of magic and grace. I yearn to stalk and embrace you. To your tallest, most ancient and wise trees in which touch the iridescent clouds and orange sky as twilight falls upon, to the dew filled soil below glittering like a night sky.

Light breezes dance and sing through the forest air, leaves singing and dancing along with the breeze. Sudden silence fills the atmosphere, I hear the wind die as its song falls into a soft hum. Aromas of the ancient forest trickle up my nostrils leaving me in a state of natural relaxation. As I venture in further, I hear the birds sing their ancient songs, I see deer leap with fleeting grace in the air as if they had wings. Squirrels squiring up the trees into hiding as I cross their path.

I come to the end of the forest, as I walk away I hear the saddened, lonesome goodbyes of the forest. I look back in woe, but I know that I shall return to this lush green forest, full of mystery yet full of magic and grace.
Rake Jan 2015
Built to protect the city,
Strong and sound for four hundred years.
But today it's meaning differs,
A spot for drinking with your peers.

Graffiti cakes it's surface,
The cannons no longer fire.
But every day I walk the walls,
It's ancient stones inspire.

To imagine men fought and died
Within and outside these bricks.
And now they're covered in paint and bottles, due to us, what a bunch of ******.

But this stone will outlive me and you
And in that it will always win.
Because it's hard and has been through more than alittle indulgence, and alittle sin
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