#perilous
September 2024
few love to sing our Anthem,
almost demanding an operatic
persona, a skilled voice, capable
of great range, but it is a story,
about one man’s imprisonment,
and that phrase:
”Through the perilous fight”
always reminds,
even in peace,
we are forever,
engaged in battle
to be a light among the
nations, a shining example,
and the perils thereof
when we err,
mistake the,
of course!
of
our truest course,
and go adrift
but!
look around,
many, not few,
placing their hand
over the heart,
words reciting,
that’s how I
know, we
yet, still,
want and pray
to be a great nation,
a light unto the world
Feb 5, 2025
Feb 5, 2025 at 4:22 PM UTC
Perilous narratives
are vivid for
a video conference
to live inside the sun.
Perilous thoughts
are more harmful
than hydrogen bomb to
build a good human being
for a dream full society.
Perilous activities and attitudes
can vanish
Vatican city
in a minute.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC
twas the bright idea of zee missus aye air
and dedicate this poem
(yes tis correct, if you bare
lee remember this mister
did formerly she push duck clear
addressed said spouse
"my little buttock blaster" en dear
ment - for obvious reasons,
and before she begat two 'ere
rip press ably lovely daughters),
anyway thee wife I fear
to publicize contracted a benign
strain sans incurable glare
ring housecleaning malady
(thus far no unpronounceable hair
raising name affixed
to non contagious nonetheless
accursed malady,
whereby to keep at bay,
scrubbing stubborn stains
from clothes, dishes,
and gamut of hibernating
Ursine horde (nee motley crue)
that come breathing alive
Nsync with beastie Bay
City Rollers Culture Club bing babes
upon first spring day
engrossed in this, that,
or some other sweeping floor foray
(analogously to Velveteen Rabbit)
shedding gray
winter coat when warmer temperatures arrive,
where humungous fur clumps would lay
comprising sudden empty raft
of shelf space minus a may
zing globules, oh...lemme get on track,
whence frenzied fever "cleaning bug" nee
major virus afflicting wife,
would necessitate impossible task
strapping former
feisty Norwegian farm gal
in straight jacket ivingsocial every
would be no game to play
boot tiring and cruel task of her life Yukon say
24/7 daily challenge,
which unpredictable timeframe
thine remaining lifetime sans wife oye vay
would frank lee zap
every last oomph of mine
if able twin door remaining with spouse
meanwhile 'til she obliviously
plucks persistent sprouting stranded follicle
tiller broad forehead resembles
a minuscule tarmac way.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
The mind
must realise
just as
the heart
must feel.
That these
thoughts
do bite
and that
the perils
are real.
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 4:00 AM UTC
*Transient happiness
Drought in our heart
Emotionless
Passionless
Love’s an oasis
We are
Weary travelers
Unaware of
The ramifications
Of unloved Earth
Nature’s revolt
Will encage us
Within our faults
Overzealous we are
Perilous future
Awaits us*
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
First the sun
Warm and gold
Then the wind
Swift and bold
Of all that I know
Little I remember; little I behold
Fearing it is my last... I gasp for breath.
A scent like no other
Fills my emptied soul
Memories flood into me
Like a perilous undertow
A wave catches me
And carries my soul
I am full again.
Wonder pulsates through my veins
Living is no longer in vain
Blood warms my extremities
Chasing fond memories
Once again, I begin
For the moment, I am
I see... I breathe... I believe.
For the moment, no end
To stop me
No fear to paralyze
No wounds to hide
A moment of peaceful bliss
All tears subside
I will let this wave carry me.
I don't fight the current
I let it take me
where it wants
Not out of bravery
But from my addiction
To wonder... and clarity
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Subtly, so subtly, the workings of Time
Must alter the shape of the outer shell
Of a body once vibrant and molded so well!
Slowly, but surely, like a wood-boring worm,
Out of the gloom of a perilous clime,
Firm in the grasp of a seasonable term,
Comes the chill-laden wintry spell
Of sad infirmity in a dismal sphere;
Lost in the woods of a cherished dream,
In the thickening fog of Nature's scheme,
Midst muffled sounds of distant strains
Are earlier years that knew no fear
Of time and age, what now remains
Eternity must rightly redeem.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC