I'll take my own experience,
Wrap it up and tie it in a bow.
I'll take all the things I've felt,
Make it poetic and put it in a show.
I will build walls around my heart,
Then talk about how roses bloom in the cracks.
And I'll tell them how you kisses me where you punched,
But never tell them I punched back.
I will write monologues about the sky
And how it reminds me of your hair
Or perhaps a sonnet
About how I never really cared.
I'll take my abandonment issues and sob stories
Into the palm of my hand
Then crush it into stardust
And try to be the sea glass in a beach full of sand
But no matter how many
Metaphores or analogies I create
I can make words beautiful
But never my feelings fake.
We are poets stuck in a cycle,
Blooming blossoms that never change.
We are artists making art
Out of the beauty of pain.

Title.        Never take for granted
the greatest power, the power to choose.
                ( An Acrostic ) of 50 lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never take for granted the greatest power.
             The power to choose !
Every concession,or subsidy in whatever form
       As a contribution or donation to charity
Value this as a highest prize , volition is the          
   Sacred power to choose ,use that power well
Efficacy empowering the production of results
   By marching forward in a positive direction
Ranges of choices sometimes oh so wide as to
   Make a decision very difficult indeed.

Two equally ,typically undesirable alternatives
     We get to know typically as a dilemma
An act of choosing to take up one option as
     Opposed to another to maintain momentum
Knowing that there’s no apparent option rather
   than the real , you have “Hobson’s choice”
Embarras de richesses you become spoilt for
     Choice, is the other side of the coin.

From the comparison betwixt the humble poet
      And the power hungry “Megalomaniac,
Optimising in an act of choosing between the
  two, voluntary ,of one’s own free will Choose
Rights to act or judge by your power of choice
   you may call this discretion,one or t’other

God grants such power as yet unmaterialised
    and unrealised which he labels potential.
Relinquish that potential at your peril
   you may never live to see that choice again
An area of power and influence you may get
    to understand as your domain but reflect
Never take for granted the greatest power,
   the power to choose.
Twitter and chat with all and sundry
    relatives you’re born to, friends you choose
Even if you use your power of wit n influence
   and see it as weight n clout you throw about
Delegate or depute and assign somebody to
    make your choices for you. No don’t quit !

The A to Z of choices takes no time to ponder
    If you take for granted the power to choose
Hub of influence power centre ganglion from
    which nerve fibres radiate to every solution
Even by commencing from “A”. Aha . Eureka!
   you have chosen first time lucky .But wait. !

Great though he may appear as the “Boy”
  of your dreams, will he stand the test of time?
Retiring back into your shell ,your”Colleagues“
  At work never choose to know the real you.
Every “Demi-God “or “Elder”that you meet ,
  give respect to ,spoil it all by choosing not to.
An “F” word muttered under your breath .
    A “Gender” question,which choice of path?
To “Hero-worship” then a real life commitment
      “Interpreters “ of choices thru a Drago Man
Established in the art of choice as lead by
  “Jesus” Christ “Knowledge “that it will not fail

Superimposed, will “Liquidise “and blend
    all the choices that are available “Mmmmm”
To the most “Natural “smoothie that you have
   ever chosen to drink. “Ohhhh” yes. !  

Pause and “ Pause” again ,do we really under
    stand the power of choice. Procrastinate  !
Oh put off until tomorrow, “Quit” whilst ahead
      “Realise” your winnings in the now.
Weather you “Seek” perfection ,or an easy
    way out . “ Take” heart it is your choice
Ethereal choice becomes the mother of
    invention, when and where necessities dwell
React with an un-earthly prowess and ability
   to establish what was to be the right choice.

The “ Virtual “ choice that you could have
   made under the circumstances, bono-fide.
Having and knowing you have the power
    Of choice, it leaves it in your hands.
Even if you get the choice “Wrong” this time
    it is your mistake , no one else’s

Pretty soon you will know the error and mark
  It with an “X” n strive to get it right next time
Only “You “ have this individual power
   To make up your own mind .You do, don’t you
We can all be as”Zealous “and pedantic as
   You like in life but choices win through .
Even if you can’t be bothered to take the
   Choice to read this poem, on and on and on.
Reacting in a moment of impatience.
  “ what am I doing wasting time reading this?”

To have a power of choice is a valuable power
    not granted to all people of the world.
Oh stay with me ! Tell me that you understand
    the meaning of this poem. Do I make it clear

Can you choose? Do you choose? Are you
   exercising a sacred power that you’re given?
Holy power, not given to timid mice sitting
  on the fence waiting for the right choice
Oh no ! Never take for granted the greatest
    power, the power to choose.
Onlookers and bystanders are you learning
   from any of the simple examples I have set?
See unless you see and understand the good
   and bad choices made by man thru ages .
Earth and the Universe would have failed
  In its quest to provide a Heaven that we seek
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 30/10/2018.

Ask not what the Universe can do for you.

Ask what you can do to aid the Universe ?
~.An Acrostic exercise ~October 27th 2018.

Ask not what the Universe can do for you.
Sometimes they are under relentless demand
Kings and beggars and entrepreneurs pray

Never mind ,what they can offer the Universe
On a daily basis pray for their own deliverance
To make ends meet, eat a crust , or a cure

We poets here on our favourite web-site know
Having been seeking the true way forward
Ask not what the Universe can do fo you.
Though this is the expected way to pray

The first thought in our head should ever be
Hey ! What can I do to aid the Universe.
Earth and the environment but a small part

Universe stretches deep deep into the cosmos
Now where do you think heaven rests in this ?
I believe it is here and surrounds us completely
Virtually every loved one that has passed on
Every thought process that you possess
Reacts in your minds eye as memory
So perpetuating the life span of a loved one.
Expand your own meditation to include them.

Clearly giving an aid to the Universal spirit.
Asks not what the Universe can do for you.
Never complain about being forsaken by God.

Do as you would be done by and **** it up.
Only pausing to calculate the best way to rise

From the sad position you find that you’re in
On giving something back to the Universe
Riches will flow back to you a thousand fold

Yes but not necessarily in a financial way
Or in an appropriation of jewels or art
Universal gifts seldom trade in those chattels

Ask what you can do to aid the Universe
Simply think about it in a pure and selfless way
Knowledge gained during your own life’s span

Wake up and smell the coffee if you can
Having negotiated the slings and arrows
Ask what you can do to aid the Universe
To me its a simple question n a simple answer

You can positively manifest your own pathway
On that road you have many crossroads
Universe has trained the minds of past lives

Coincidentally you carry the minds past loves
Ask what you can do to aid the Universe
Now bring back to mind all souls of meaning

Dedicate the sights and the fragrance of life
On a kind of conference call to the departed

Tell me if you think what I say is too far fetched
Only I know that it works ,well it does for me.

Ask what you can do to aid the Universe
I posed that question many many years ago
During the time that I prayed then to God

The crisis erupted between Russia an the US
Hydrogen and nuclear bombs were threatened
Europe ,a state of emergency unprecedented

Undaunted I joined the Civil defence, in ‘62
Now looking back , I realise my pathway’s set
In not expecting the Universe to be helping
Venus in retrograde and other cosmic moves
Effects of the moon phases all considered.
Reality is you hold the precious key to success
So next time you pray , you’d better pray good.
Entreating God to advise his plans for your day

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Acrostic poem written by Philip. 27/10/18.

O traveler, why lookest thou straight
on the road
grave and speculative,
Depriving your eyes such a beatific sight,
See the angelic form standeth behind
the window curtain,
Come, wait, sit beside me, it’s worth waiting,
We both will sing in praise of her
And linger until she uncurtains the curtain.
You say it’s purposeless
Why argue?
Isn’t it the reason our maker gives us eyes?
Isn’t it the purpose of our mind’s evolution
to sing and hail the beauty; at least of her.

You won’t believe my word? Impertinence!
You will be blinded by her shadow
spare her presence; “stare not for long”,
What? You say it exaggeration…
Bon Dieu!
If beauty is not exaggerated
where lies its charm.

Look! her shadow moving, she is
growing impatient as if  getting
late to meet her lover.
Yes, she wins heart in a look
and crushes it in a blink and wins again
by smile.
Monarch sleeps in her bed
Life in right, Death in left hand; she possesses,
Judiciary in closet
And warriors in purse.
Countries bow, world kneel, universe supplicate
before her.
Stop! Where thou going?
Pardon these adynatons,
I’m drunk in her beauty.

Let us sing then, I’ll lead, you follow

Flowers wilting in chilled air,
Waiting clouds to part
To have a look fair,
Of moon…

Do see the restlessness in that room?
I can sense her ***** heaving, repressed
sighs and her fingers twisting, twirling
in exasperation,
It must be a lover
who invented the song, isn’t it?

A gloomy firefly in this starless sky
Searching his lover
Who has lost the light,
Wait not moon, rise, help him
In his plight…

Look! look! The curtain is drawn
There she, my sovereign,
don’t mistake her eyes for stars.
Have a profound look, but not too long;
this witnesses only fortunate.
What? you lost your vision-
But I warned you earlier.
Now, who’ll testify I saw her?

My work day woke to Monk,
the click of typing keys,
clock watched, Spotify playing,
random thoughts rose like bees
to freeze in these jagged lines,
then swarm in threatening flight.

Hours of data entry later,
on a stool, in a bar, a clock's
hands tock, I flick a wrist,
and slur my words concluding  
an anguished monologue,
“They call it work, you know.”

Awash at home, in the strobe of
pixelated panel light,
visions surge and dissipate
with the pulse of the night. Osip,
were you tempered to embrace
attention’s fugitive caress?

You etched memory’s texture
with candle soot for ink,
and the gulag’s blackened gaze -
I type lines by hunt and peck
humming Monk’s WELL YOU NEEDN’T,
hoping for an adequate phrase.

Copyright © 2004 Gary Brocks

Sometimes we get lost in our desires.
We lose in the curtains of emotions.
We become slaves to desires.
The charm of life is lost and we live for the glamor ...
We begin to live day after day searching for the remedy of deception.
Many believe in pain and few in love ...
We sacrifice our minds for temporary pleasure.
Satisfying our desires can sometimes be dangerous.
Sometimes we get into a maze with no way out because of childish desires and whims.
Humanity has an internal hunger for success and greed
But not always what we want and really what we need.
I introduce you to a world full of rot.
A world where colors do not shine.
Where everyone seems to be happy with the things they bought.
Where the only satisfaction is ***.
Where many fall
In a cold and emotionless place.
Where many have become two in one.
Where many need lots of makeup to hide the wrong choices.
In a land of monsters and gods, in a dream-thirsty land, I saw people selling dreams and faith in exchange for glory.
In return for what they thought was happiness.
They sold the soul for pleasure.

Desire was dope he commanded the soul.
Many people no longer knew if they were in the real world or were in an imaginary world.

Every night, every weekend, all the laughter, all the wine was different ...
Sometimes we want things that we really can not have.
We confuse dreams and desires.
The power, money, fame more without space for love.

Fear had something to say.
And he wanted to say it now.  
So I paused and told him,
“Go on.”

He said,
“I know I’m weighing heavy on your chest;
I see sometimes it’s hard for you to breathe.”
“You know I can’t leave you alone;
So I at least want to give you this tip.”

“Breathe...”
“And work.”
“Be steady.
Don’t feel like you have to do too much at once.”

“Relax.
Let your chest be unburdened and unbothered.”
“Let it go.”
“And try to regain control.”

“You’re doing just fine.
Doing just great.
I know a few mistakes you’ve made
but you can get back on track and get it made. ”

“Try.
You can try again.
You might make it;
And if not, try again.”

“Get your work out there
And let it be seen.
Try and do that
And get back to me”

And I looked back at Fear
And told him “Sure.”
Turned my back on him
And began my work.

Walking thru these lonely
corridors at night,
seeking some sense
and knowledge
to beam forth and
shine bright.

I look into your eyes
Mysticism at its best
If only we had a little longer
To rise and stand this test

This sentiment that burns deep within my bones
Leaving me voiceless
One among the drones

Tho they know,  deep down, which vices are my kin.
Please help me ,dear Lord,  to turn away from Sin.

So Dead do I turn to you amongst the flowers.
Please help me to turn and release myself from this prison.

“Oh, Cupid!
Give me your bow and arrow
You are doing an absurd job.
How hard is it to hit the heart of my beloved?”

“Here, I’ll shoot it myself.
I’ll aim and let the arrow fly.
Look. Look how it sinks into her chest.
And watch. Watch as she falls head over heels in love with me.”

“Oh, what?
I missed?
Okay.
I’ll try again.”

“No?
Not this time?
Again.
Can I try again?”

“**** it!
Why?
Why won’t it work?
Why can’t I aim right?”

“What?
I can’t control it?
It’s a force beyond my control?
It’s a power I don’t have?”

“Why then?
Why then!?”

“Why did you shoot me?
Why’d you hit me right in the heart?
What was that for, Cupid?
What was that for!?”

“If you won’t hit her...
If I can’t shoot her...
If she will not fall in love with me—
If I cannot make her fall in love with me..."

“Then why?
Why did you aim at me?
What is this sick game you’re playing?
Tell me Cupid, what is it?”