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nivek Feb 2015
tell me what you desire
I desire to imitate my King;

You indeed shall drink my cup.
Jesu; bestower of desire.
BubbleZee Jun 2015
Great Goddess
In fertile essence you were shaped
Upon your head
ambiguous braids were draped;

******* as mountains
Belly the great giver of life
Monthly cycle an ocher fountain
Created from ancestral strife

Venus of Willendorf
30,000 year old
Archetype Matron
of Mother Earth
Corpulent bestower
Of genesis and birth.*

- Amy Green
K Balachandran Oct 2014
This is his Henri Julian Rousseau taboo land,
here he appears as the lion night after night,
with his tail stiffened, *****--but the Gypsy wasn't there

Bathed in psychedelic strobe lights, now
here on a plush confession table doubling as their stage
his Gypsy lies spread-eagled,  
til there is no secrets left in her body, he now tries
to pry open the many chambers of her peripatetic mind.

With a lingering kiss, he in vain tries to arrest her
never subdued spirit and begins his secret rituals
for the angel of sin, black magic maiden, yin for his yang
who in ways direct, sly or by allusion, is the bestower of
a million forbidden pleasures,  whispering,like a mantra thus:
"There is no right or wrong, all illusions, within an imagined truth"
which made him stray, albeit, within the labyrinth
like innumerous men of power, which they gained
shedding blood, sweat and tears; as if there is nothing beyond.

She who by instinct engineered his downfall
from the pantheon of the anointed is finally here
but this is no retribution, only return of the favors received,
his throbbing lust seeks her deep interior's caresses
giving her forgiveness in return, his masculine urges
wish to be gripped by her unusual craving,
she is melting like butter, her sweet urges fight back
in unison they seethe, wreath, roll and race to culminate.

On a swing hanging high ,above the poisoned earth
for a few sweet transient moments they remain,
weep in pleasure til they fall in to slime and crawl back to life
--then the Gypsy and the Lion remember nothing .
Remember the Rousseau painting "Sleeping Gypsy"
Arfah Afaqi Zia Jun 2016
The imposer of all rules,
The most powerful,

Ar-Rahmaan, Ar-Raheem,
He is the most merciful and gracious,

The creator of this universe,
The flawless shaper,

Al-Malik, Al-Quddus,
He who is Great and perfect in every way,

The supreme bestower,
The sustainer, the provider,

Al-Mu’min, Al-Qaabid,
He who is superior to all of mankind and has all rights,

The magnificent one,
The sublime one.

Al-Ghafoor, Al-Waasi',
He will forgive us and we know, only He knows best.

The imposer of all rules,
The most powerful.
Allâh! Lâ ilâhla illa Huwa ,
To Him we all worship,

Ar-Rahmaan,
He directs mercy to His creation,

Ar-Raheem,
He who forgives His creatures,

Al-Malik,
He who far from imperfection and flaws,

Al-Quddus,
He who is sacred,

Al-Mu’min,
He who infuses faith,

Al-Qaabid,
The restricter,

Al-Ghafoor,
The great forgiver,

Al-Waasi’,
The Knowledgeable.
Anderson Ritchie Apr 2012
"More ropes! Swiftly now,
more ropes! With all that we hold
we must restrain it!" cries the mind.
Such a mighty roar,
tho' t'were a beast from hell,
yet so such beast was present.

"Ah, yes, No such liberty for thee,
restrained, confined to the labyrinth
of stock and stone for this lifetime."
whispered unto its enraged ears,
countless other taunts cast from figures
afar, but this youthful figure nearby,
taunts fresh into its ears.

What foul creature could be so horrid?
Surely a beast of such sheer evil nature,
death, destruction and villainy,
that doth terrorise the world so very much.

Listen! there's its thump and thud,
its horrendous screech,
the chorus of the deep.
Ay, tis not of kind appearance,
not to me in the slightest,
instead, throw flame and ember,
deep into its chambers,
and pray to the heavens,
that some miracle may be
bequeathed unto such a foe,
and looks of horror, and foul appearance,
might be converted to the sleek and slender
restraints of the minds will.

Ay, this is the heart,
a foul and horrid creature,
the bringer of pain, the bestower
of a smouldering soul.
Let it not loose,
lest it happens again.
jeffrey robin Jun 2015
in honor of Ernesto's poem :

                                 COYOTE :

//

                                                broken :

                 ( we who worship phantom grief and phantom sin )

//                                                                 ­           
We
                                                      ( the betrayer !)

Pretending to be ---- the betrayed !

Or

Seeking adventure

In the world of morbid love
And the self inflicted wounds

On hearts and skin

//

                            COYOTE !!!

we traffic in the untold real

Of feelings

Sunken unto death

We do not see the real

We do not see the reality of bodies

We do not dare think

Of those who seek escape

Unto the bloated filthy wealth we live within

••

self indulgent !

                                            ( playing with pain )

//

COTOTE !                                                  

we carry our poetic scars so proudly

So as to guard ourself

From those are are truly felt

By the children of the world

We sometimes visit

If we are bored

••

Across the borders and boundaries

Of our minds and hearts

//

We

( who are of

AMERICA 's dominion )

Have stated a million times

That we do not care  

For more than a quick release

From any sense of responsibility

Simply go on



Life itself

All that goes on

All around us every day

Means nothing



We have our own slaves

                                     ( called ---- " lovers " )

whom we take great pleasure

To mutilate

••

Oh

Ernesto

( Bestower of compassion

And the will

To be reborn and to rise again

Unto true honor and decency )

--

we may try to understand this time

( who can say ? )

//

The power of god

//

The love of love

//

The seed of simplicity

//

Today and tomorrow

//

Trust / peace

//

The long trail

//

The mountain song

That never ceases

//

The light of the eye that does not die

//

The little child

//

You and me

//

All that is good shall survive

//

If people say just what they mean

And live what they say

and put aside

Meaningless lives
Fatih Gul Dec 2014
What an ease to scream to silent hills,
"Hear this heart out, lover be thy name."
But sadly it is not the silence that kills,
Rather tides of heart one cannot tame.

The tides are restless, tides are raged.
Lover's a pebble drifting in its wrath.
Screeches eternally heart, once caged,
No mortal woe can obstruct its path.

Eyes are closed, love leaves blinded.
Sight once lost cannot be restored.
To pain and misery lover is binded.
By the slave, the master is adored.

Whips and chains of love and misery,
All fly amidst the sad heart to torture,
By eternal screech, lover's left weary,
Constricted the heart is put in seizure.

There is only one cure for the demise,
Such a cure that soothes all open scars,
It is not a bottle nor powder for eyes,
But a boon raising the soul to the stars.

None has found the antidote to heal,
A plague without braving hardship,
But warranted is this generous deal,
Won't sink those who ride this ship.

A doctor seeks the cure for a disease,
By understanding germs responsible,
If the lover has a naive heart to please,
He must understand love irrepressible.

To elucidate the ways of love, the heart,
The awe of humanity, is the specimen,
Understanding one's most vivid part,
Is understanding every breath taken.

Love's why the heart exists, love is all.
Without love, man has no existence,
None is more charming than its call,
To bathe in its showers is insistence.

A feeling so sacred can only be divine,
How can mortal be the source of awe?
In desperate hearts, we all carry the sign.
It is His greatness of art that man saw.

Flesh does not bless beauty upon one.
The vivid eyes are sight for Him to gaze.
It is foolishness of man to have done,
An idol of world in the mind to praise.

Seek the love of the bestower of love.
Search for emotions that bear truth.
With the love you have found above,
You shall forget the crimson fruit.
Written to my dear friend Çatlı...
Julian Aug 2022
A.
Al-Muhaymin Supreme in the Preeminence of retchallop that frankquibbers revile spurned by spumid spurious ratchets of intorgurent wamzels cringing in the halldorn of rallendork simplicity girdled by all apanage of aphnology refracturism exalts. May the belletrist guarded by speos and indentured by vetudas of panopticon in the swoopstakes of jengadangle frapplanked by the frimple of the treecheese swarpollock of majestic retchanvil recumbent upon sockdolager stellified among the supernal supercherie of the superlative floundrewl bodged by facture and totemized by the prism of indemnity that harvests the narthex and with schoenabatic squirebells of ugmentum and the ilkengor of warbled wonderworks might we astound never by ashowel or blackguard by any gammon of aswallone that our trillom of retchination becomes nothing but ecbolic billingsgate contrary to agapism and contrarian because of placomaniacal camorras and the camisades of deturpation never succinct in tribulation in the heyday of interregnum always debunked by the frappern of commerstargal aleatory in the conation of expenditure but never indentilated by the kurgans profound in gravitas but never shallow in thanatousia. We all might gloam with the sondage of soothfast sopiter never crimson in the alluvion of detritus that the lour of lotophagous reskig becomes never a notoriety buoyant upon the navarchy of naturism defiled by sanguisugent tabanids flargent in tanquam tantony fraverscribbles of wrabble and wravvel might expound beyond the idioglossia of ideopraxist probabiliorism lackaday because the callithumpian lognon of pillory suborns the precarious twinge never the prolonged karezza of incumbent providence flictions can never dethrone and fangasts of fashimite grazzly timberlask opportune temerarious spado of the spancel of sphygmotic aspheterism can never aspire beyond motatory providence of blinkered brumbles subordinate to the regulus of reboant hatred.






B.
Glory be to Allah the most munificent bestower of the knells of foraminated carapace and the tachymetry of the cadence of isapostolic porlecked largition in the larithmic finesse never foutering in the aimless maidan maieutic velivolant lairwites of consternation scouring the ravenous matroclinic providence of maunders of dwale and dumose hedges of jengadangle frapplanks motivated by nummamorous flyndrigs always denigrated by the repose of the rapacious lechery of lentiginose bodewash. In the sempervirence of anacusia levied upon anemocracy leveraged upon the patavinity of synquest and rejoinder might the frantlings of the frottage of the depaysed ******* might incur the steepest precipice of penalty rather than the curmudgeons of normative defiliation spancules eradicate and spados despise in their humgruffin houghmagandies with their own parvanimity of prowling constative carnaptious lucriferous caverns beyond blettonism and bleating never with the peenge of tholes of thumomancy. The gricers of modernity in their terriginous turriform thanatousia might they disembark and cowl their gossamer cortinate flargent purpresture that the ashowels never flock with ennobled albatross in the egestuous penitence of too many a penitentiary of peccable stigmatophilia and the growls of tocophobia blinkered upon the deskandent nubigenous novantique of pregromanging deception among casuistry deranged by the chiminage of the antiscian antithalian foison of draconian blaring blarney excoriated only by thumomancy grandeval and sweedle too spartan with contraplex gerendum of tatamae belonging only to the swiven of starstruck imparlance impavid without defalcation and swank with littoral alluvion in the aigers of the holocryptic. Might we always marvel never with a blackguard schadenfreude for the enmity of fossarian shibboleth in the tribance of guarded trekleador and the premundane fascination of the hexaemeron of a truer theodicy rather than a prurient nihilism recursive in obganiation. We might scowl at the scamper of scobiform scabilonian sacrilege in the abeyance of heyday rather than simpered scorn scollardical because of costermonger quilombo we might never be shocked by mammothrept liaison or otherwise predatory mouchards of radicolous raffish rantipole disorder that is proleptical in its dippoldism and protensive in its timberlask kenodoxy of femicide fandangled by the artifacts of treachery rather than the drawflark of the gossamer simplification of ultroneous outrage terreplein upon the cavernous expanse of gloaming scribacious and bibulous parvanimity. May we always frown on the orthodromic ballast of tropoclastic warbles of tilted geotaxis reactionary only in the apagoge of licentious grambazzle because the frimple of dutiful subservience becomes the mainsail of lexers of laveer and never the fateful finifugal paravent of cordial rancor and eisegesis fraternizing with the flarmey of incarcerated denouement rather than treasuries of engouement amen.

C.
Al-Muhaymin guarantor of mercy gilder of preterplufect primogeniture and protector of the depaysed saxifragous emoluments that sashay against the enmity of travesty, may you endow the world beyond nostrification and above the nostrums of quacksalvers that no steep deed is forgotten by the shallow mettle of the emaciated emacity of a gravid tocophobia amasthenic never because of the ribald abderian swarpollock of the treony of trillom and the drawflark of regelation. May you always permit never the barnstorm of the wayspayed regius of the wartles of rindstretch radical in rhizogenic denialism rather than the normalism of sacerdotalism that scavenges the new florilegium for the promontory that beats the skelder of tracasserie riniguss in rintinole alone and apartheid bequeathed by the caesarapropism of all malingered scobiform secodont crambazzled senectitude grafted by the raffish hegira of foison and foudroyant umbrage always a cockshy detested never a perjury racemiferous with scollardical taunts of grating timberlask seminules of new world  denostram in the alloreck of penotherapeutic wamzels of the mangled corpses of pollarchy rescinded by the magnanimity of wragapole whartonized docility and demiurges of the sacrarium never of a pushful jocknee but always a grauncher and grapnel of the pogonips of flatulent deceit flargent only in the purpresture of the noetics of noospheres bowdlerized by an autotelic oligogenics of tramontane subterfuge. We always marvel about rangiferine randan in the superfetation of sublime deeds rather than carnal handfast debaucheries that we might never embody squandermania of coercive squalor fomented by diablerists never tempted by extramundane promise because of inveterate and inscrutable malloseismic thanatism that is only brokered by the ciconine Cinega rather than the promethean escapism and surrealism of a redacted scopolagnia and a rambunctious pallor of nebbich elitism scrambling with audacious temerity never tamed by the ferules of gnapped griffonage in the sempiternal gullarge of toonardical decree never evading its own bilkey of ebriection of periblebsis floundering on mendaciloquence and fropollowing the strollow against magnanimity rather than bequeathing the progeny of omphalism without hyperarchy and hypertrophy without hyperbole. Amen





D.
Al-Muhaymin deposes the glower of the griffonage of orthotropism in the squaloid declension of corruption in tabanid draksting and grambounced lethologica flouting every findrouement of rubricality that the calodemons never cauponate or capernoited by the artifice of bloodthirsty deceit might their foisons glorify upon the earth the cadasters of moral docimasy never fragmentary in decisive gestalt frapperns of sondage, sennet, regulus and the caesarapropism of cognoscenti grimoires of taghairm never embraced by the thumomancy of martexture and the marstions of nuncles of numquid  nubile ophelimity deprived by autocracy rather than reified by the parlance of succinct anonymity never curved by the hebephrenia of the warbled corrugation of sithcundman only wealthy by bolides of dramaturgy and only ennobled by the secodont scollardical flarmeys of debellated aceldama always reproved as a trinkochre  of flarium  never despised in its sondage of avizandum and never deprived of its cacoethes to gallantry never prattling about the nocicepty of tapotement. Might we all find never a vetust torpindage an exhortation to the vitriol of fractious fragmentary periblebsis that scaramouch ruffianism of ragabash and ragmatical histrinkage always docile to reconfiguration and always protean to the nomistic laws of magisterium that we might be redintegrated by gestalt authenticity rather than the forsifamiliation of the temenos guarding sanctanimity from billingsgate and the gate of the hypaethral chapel from the deposition of the delirifacient fracklings of perceived frottage rather than frigolabile naupegical themolysis of tredged trudgery in miscegenated disaster always goading and cadging the suborn of the slogmarch of voluntary eisegesis rather than the sincerity of exegesis that all refracturism in hypertrophy becomes a synclastic synoecy against the jocknee of a nyejay malaise of probabilism curved by the reginkeer of the identity diffusion and dissolution of the carnal temptation regaled only in roorbacks of the heyday of hearsay rather than excorified as a vestige of bronteums of  fulgurant prowess in the selective stirpiculture of a renewal of hymeneal vows of procacity rather than procellous illecebrous naivety that gudgeons of neovitalism revalorized into nihilism incumbent. Might we spawn the polyphiloprogenitive primogeniture never of the frivverscrabble of titanism blackguarded by blinkered gentincture in the frinteran flarmeys of despicable deposition despoiled by tachymetry rather than valor in the timocracy of virtuosity enabled by the enunciation of doctorate taciturn schoenabatic stenotopic virtualasis thriving in purified occamy rather than congealed in the bonnyclabber of false absolution and the dormitage of ventose verdure of clamorous abnegation empowered by egintoch wamzels rather than heroic apothecaries of sublime regard never a quacksalver can outmantle in their pothers of vesuviated outrage and donnybrooks of donnism in squalorformatic beliefs in the vitiation of phanerolagnist declension that they might flinch and shirk and shrive through  forswinked deskandent atrocity and because of frustraneous findrouement become redintegrated again by their balance of eumoireity and eudaemonism. We might not impress by our valetudinarian purpresture and our porlocking portreeve of aeronautical vendetta flippant upon flipsquires never revalorized or regelated by the refocillation of reflation that becomes boundless by tachydidaxy and never contentious by scampers of dacoitage that groundlings alienavesce from because of the graklongeur of the suffrage of the lorgnons and lambastes of the perceived pillor becoming a magnet for the mesmerism of tropoclastic tycolosis and may the typhlophiles renounce their dommerers and dompteuses of tregetour taghairm stellified only because of occult simplicity rather than ultramontane aggiornamento .Amen

E.
The gudgeons of gramercy rather than the efters of the eisoptromania of radical raltention never indentilated by the browbeat of glawson and the timberlask interregnum of grazzly qwestuns of rengall and nauclatic certitude might we all refrain from the profligacy of the renegades and charlatans who maraud mountainous rubricalities of mendaciloquence that fettlers and graunchers of pogonip pogonophiles might charade in their feckless faffle might we all astound with a torpillage of histrinkage rather than cowl with the capers of the camorra of vicissitude flargent in every centupled mendaciloquent halkend of the divestiture of elitism and the pregromanging pontiffs of popinjay and tinjesk ombrophilous fliction marauding in the maunder of the temptation of the wilder windlass wilderness of winterkill trudged by the bodge of the centripetal geotaxis of moral valor rather than deskandent tediums of raffish and ragabash notoriety exculpated only in the humble shrives of atonement for atomkent flombricks of desultory procellous portreeves of tracasserie unbounded by the suborned fatalism of malingering malaise that tregetours prepossess in their feigned and  faineant euhemerism flashy only with finifugal fizzgig of rannygazoo rather than rangiferine fury and feral longiniquity. Might we all shelve the aswallone of the frackling fatewrench of the frogmarch of the licentious lobbyists cavorting in lanais and machairs might their macadamization of radicolous Potemkin leverage become rescinded by the tralleyripped explosion of the abreaction never of mafficked magpiety never of the palisades of patavinity caroused by riniguss and ramparian swarpollock of craven timidity escorted by the penotherapeutic deception of cyprian lackadays never befitting the heyday of the carnage of miscegenated modernity and the prance of terpsichorean promontories of paranoid ausehetoria that might never vanish in the effluvium of ragabash worthless taradiddles of crapulence in the naivety of the bickering vicegods among gauleiters that pretend a conation of celibacy in their oligomaniacal chantage of vangermyte outrage because of hikkling hinkergs in the bray of the jackals of aceldama always requited by the connoiseurs of generative prowess and seminal wizened reflection nostalgic only for junctition and wangermist never the pallor of the bluepomp of draconian hyperarchy. We navigate with arctician oecodomic plashy placets of fouterers in their aimless grumbling that their groaks of crose and their tholes of lackaday lacertilian schadenfreude recursive upon them in accursed malism that they might leverage their hindsight and lollop their foresight without a hint of regret but always pregnant with the remorse of rectiserial limits of troponder shattering every glass ceiling that bluestockings themselves in their harridan humors of sapiosexual pollarchy that they might never feign their diestrus of duty might they never become the fallow novantique of dastardly cadges of imperative but faked drawflarks of trillom in the treecheese of litigable estoppage. Might we all remark with certitudes of cadaster rather than sempervirent fictions of a radical docimasy ruinous with genesiology but always rectiserial in meritocracy. Amen!
MS Lim Dec 2015
Words to the writer
how rare a gift
even the sudden dawning of a single word
sparks the imagination and helps to lift

the spirit--and the poetic muse
awakes from its slumber
and like a bright light shows the way
out of the murky tunnel of uncertain thought--then splendour

takes over the writing scene---words
mysteriously conjoin and start to dance on blank paper
the poet becomes the composer
as the sweetest music flows from his heart's ardour

Isn't a poem a miracle?
isn't the poet blessed as the receiver
of gems more precious and dearer
than anything else? Through words he  becomes a lasting joy-bestower.
Hira malik Jan 2019
Admist the construction
There is an asylum
I am a key keeper there
So am i a prisoner,
A beggar at the beginning
A bestower at all doors,
A stranger in my own scripture
A lover like a mad *****,
I am an enigma
Or a story teller
Who knows his stories like all boundaries of sea-shore!
Camille lily Mar 2018
Do not be fearful of silence.
A bountiful garden awaits you.
Far from the cacophony of greed and exploitation that surrounds us.
In which to plant the seedlings of desire, creativity and strength.
Solitude  has the power to heal.
To avoid it is to negate oneself.
You are your own caretaker.
In those precious moments lies the chance to return to you.
Silence....the long awaited oasis of plenty.
The bestower of peace and focus.
Be still dear ones......
Take a moment from this corrupt and tainted world in which you find yourselves...
These distractions around you serve only to take you further from yourself.
You are limited only by the bars of your own prison.
The hair shirt of humanity and its horrors is not yours to wear.
Saddal Diab Feb 2018
Blessed child

Till the earth

Blessed child

Breed new births

Scent of petunias wild and fresh

Intention pure as snow

Rowing boat of heaven

Bestower of a cool night's glow
041120

You bring wonders to our hearts
And set fire deep within us
Your Words are our might,
Flying arrows of enemies are shut -- You are a consuming fire.

You bring us to the depths of this world
For us to gain endurance by grace
All the hardships in this world
Are not too great with what You've already done
You shed Your blood, You have saved us!

We call unto You in our imperfections
You remain the same like no other
You are faithful with Your Words
And You are a shield to those who seek You
The strong tower where we run
In calamities and all arrows.

You are our Father in Heaven,
The Bestower of grace that's so sufficient
Sin has no hold on us
For we are in Your arms
You're the light in our darkness
And no darkness cannot tame You.

We love because You first loved us
You created us in Your Image
That is the image of Jesus Christ,
The Way, the Truth, and the Life
Let us not be tired these days,
For You shall come soon
And so we prepare and get ready,
Your Kingdom is coming soon!
Dr Peter Lim Jan 2018
No, this won't do
I've moved too far away
from the destination I sought
no-- I must pause-
the telling-signs
are all over
the sky was friendly
when my journey started
the trees waved as though
to wish me bon voyage
the flowers danced
in the wind
and murmured the clear stream
as though to say:
'follow your dream'
the open road did smile
that I was sure
when I walked my first mile

I had no compass
my heart was
my navigator

(my thoughts
to the past
this hour
they did wander)--

youth, ah, youth
the grandeur
the splendour
the wonder
the ardour
the giving-up never
the dream bestower
the nothing-could-be bolder
the Utopian-follower
the ideals-seeker
the tireless wanderer
the eternal lover--

the heart on fire
***** was desire

  but
reality is never
  the benefactor
  of the desirer)

  and now
  I am young
  no longer
  wrinkles gather
  my look is sterner
my demeanour
is austerer
my feelings
they are far from tender
my heart is colder--

a step backwards
I must walk
it's useless now
to think
or talk--

but as my head
I turn
I discover
there's no trace
of my footprint

in time
I freeze
not knowing
what to do next--
I am hopelessly-
lost!
jeffrey robin Jul 2014
(                  

                    )


-------

Only one more day

••

( the word ---- " year "  ---- is now obsolete )

/////

Only the FULLNESS OF THE SPIRITUAL POWER inside of you

Will allow you to live at all

••

The rivers mountains seas

Where are you SONS OF GOD ?

\\

The light of your Eye

Bestower of grace

Come

Preserve the Power

you are here for a sacred purpose as you know

••

Child be strong

Only a few men still live

Only one man is enough

Only you ever mattered
My home, my beautiful home!
Seated amidst a pulsating city,
Gulmohars, jacarandas rendering gaiety
Serene heaven visible from my window
Blue umbrella germinating thoughts mellow
Caressing sunshine with whispering breeze...that’s my zone
My benefactor, my saviour, that’s home, my beautiful home!



My home, my beautiful home!
Bestower of benedictions and adulations
Spectator of trials and tribulations
Echoer of rapturous laughters
Embracer of pains and tears
Preserver of memories, builder of healthy morrows... that’s my zone
My introduction, my story, that’s home, my beautiful home!



My home, my beautiful home!
Welcoming friends, sharing, caring lots
Nourishing dreams, cleansing thoughts
Elevating spirits, multiplying happiness
Balm for sorrow, therapy for sickness,
Healer for injury, haven for peace...that’s my zone
My temple, my sanctuary, that’s home, my beautiful home!



My home, my beautiful home!
Epicenter of love where blooming hearts reside
Foundation of self-worth and pride,
Dispeller of fear
Creator of my magical sphere
Reservoir of serenity and sanctity...that’s my zone
My harbinger, my comforter, that’s home, my beautiful home!
Riz Mack Mar 2020
cynic
pedant
seer
believer

royal
peasant
meat
and cleaver

solicitor
enquirer
teacher
denier

conspirator
healer
pr­eacher
and liar

lover
fighter
bestower
detractor

reader
writer
audience
an­d actor
I.R. Baboon
Svetoslav Jan 19
Through the valleys, sparkling rivers flow, soothing us with lively sounds and renewing the forest alleys.
The wind blows, yellow ink paints fertile soils, and above, the birds call, dance in the rain, chirp on the branches, bathe in the air in the oils of the Sun showers.

The trees are tall towers, and the stones below lie wrapped in silver foil. They envelop the depths of our earth's core,
remembering the past and preserving our home for centuries blessed to come. Our hearts play the strings of life. May our eyes be emptied of prejudice and despair.

I bow to thee - the bestower of beauty to all.
You are the artist on the black paper, while the blue mountains are the throne of your kingdom. You look over the vicinities of life as you guide us walking in the chaos. Your colors fill the blank paper with the motley rays of spring, and the drawing is always there.

— The End —