"blesses" poems
the angel amongst us
~for Alexander, master splasher~
*flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns
~•~
the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both
two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression
the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?
this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!
little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future
the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer
the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing
but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity
“time to go”
the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,
as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics
"no go now,
now go later^"
though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs
one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself*
that is the angle amongst us
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
I wear beads and African bracelets for beauty. I forget why the people before me wore them. I wear them with pride not because I earned them but because I simply look beautiful. Beautiful!? What does that even mean? My Nana has scars on her body. She shows them to me with pride. Narrates stories of the war in the past like an action movie only she didn't have a gun only bows and poisonous arrows. The missing teeth in her mouth causes her to spit almost every second she talks. But this embarrassment is only felt by me. She is proud of the hole in her mouth. Suddenly I feel the urge to remove my African beads. They have no meaning only that they are African and I am and so am entitled. But I have done nothing for my heritage. Not even fight for it. Slowly it's being forgotten and people are crossing over without a care in the world. 'To civilisation' we say. 'For the good of the people' we say. But is it? We were a community wrong as we were to circumcise women, marry them off at an early age, burn the wrong... We were a community. We loved each other. We cared. We taught our children how to feel and be the earth. We taught our children to respect the earth and in return the earth blesses us with herbs to cure. What did they call it? Aaah yes 'witchcraft'. We were not animals who forget their children in pit latrines or by the river side just because we cannot afford them or don't want them. We cared not of individualism because together we grew in spirit, body and soul. It was not backward it was culture. And culture is flexible. It can change but can never be terminated. It is not a shoe that when you grow out of you throw and buy another.
And so I am not telling you to go back to your roots because if am quite honest you were never in it. Rather embrace it. See how 'civilised' you will feel then.
yours
The Red_Head
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
depressed in its loneliness as it descends.
It lands and drips down a grassy slope,
alone and forgotten.
A single raindrop falls from the sky.
It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air.
It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below
and desires only to be heard or seen.
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
felt only by a stranger.
It's wiped away, declared a nuisance,
and cast away from existence.
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
mistaken for a tear.
Thought to be from an angel of a lost age.
It merely stirs the dust.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
all lonely but together.
They cause a splash and demand attention.
Still only felt by one.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
unable to quench the earth's thirst.
They disappear, taken by the ground,
embraced for the last time.
A hundred raindrops fall from the sky.
Not a head turns to notice them.
They cry out loudly but cannot be heard,
vanishing as they land.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky.
The clouds gather to watch the spectacle.
They grow darker as they bunch together,
warning those below of the coming.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky
and tap people on the shoulder.
"Come watch us," they whisper before leaving.
Few people are left behind.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
looking for an audience.
The people have left and taken their friends
to hide in the buildings they made.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
and joyously, they sing.
They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs,
and make music for those in hiding.
A million raindrops fall from the sky.
They dance and cheer and smile.
The sun decides it wants to watch.
The light dances with raindrops for awhile.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
accompanied by rays of gold.
They bring new color to the city of gray
and rejuvenate all of the old.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and makes art upon the ground.
It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears,
dancing to its own sound.
A gentle rain falls from the sky.
People watch with awe from behind glass.
Ignored by many, precious to captivated few.
They long for it to last.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and gracefully sways in the breeze.
It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace.
It blesses the green fields and trees.
A gentle rain falls from the sky,
watched by a child with wonder.
It sends the breeze to lift the child
and brings them out from under.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and splashes on window panes.
It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes
as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and ripples in the water.
A new world created, impossibly calm.
It makes the child an offer.
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and whispers in the child's ear.
"Wait for me. I will return.
I won't leave you alone here."
A gentle rain falls from the sky
and sings goodbye to the child.
The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over.
The departing rain simply smiles.
A million raindrops fall from the sky,
murmuring farewells and goodbyes.
Each gives the child a tender hug
as the color returns to the skies.
A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
then a hundred, then one.
The single raindrop kisses the child
standing alone in the sun.
No longer do raindrops fall from the sky,
but a child waits for them.
To dance and sing and draw and play,
with the gentle rain again.
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
I've sat here for 21 years
Watching all this go by
People say things cliché
With pretension in their eye
I'm tired of hearing, everyday, what life is all about
Reality is getting boring, let's tune in and drop out
Have you heard the one
About the killer and the priest?
One blesses people with less and less
And one is just a thief
In "somewhere else" my mind is broken down
Reality is getting boring yet still its name resounds
There's stories everywhere you go
And all of them the same
Reductive plots and happy endings
Just under another name
I'm quiet as I sit and listen to what they all say
Reality is getting boring, maybe I'll revisit it some other day
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
Dear husband,
I pray that you have God as your first love and you pray to him vigorously. I pray he hears your whispers, your screams, your silence, your tears of sorrow; and tears of joy. I pray that he blesses you with the tools you need to build & keep your foundation sturdy and deeply rooted.
I pray that your past doesn't linger and damage your future. I pray that you fall madly in love with yourself and you know who you are as a man and understand what you stand for. I pray that you evolve in this lifetime with your love, mind, body and soul. I pray that you are financially responsible and have the common sense that's needed to survive. I pray that you pray for me and our beautiful family and friends. I pray that you feel me, see me, understand me, like and love me as a woman and what I stand for. I pray that you have patience for us; be gentle enough for us.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC
I picture her eyes burning the sun to a blaze-
The warm winds of her tenderness, the beauty of her grace-
Angelic voices sing notes of an emotional state-
Thinking the thoughts that outlast all time and all space-
Interlocked destiny-Cupids arrow of praise-
Aphrodite holds Aries-In love with Capricorn days-
Pumping and pounding feeling her right through my vein’s-
Denial of a skeptic no longer scared of the chase-
Standing on mountain tops-Vision clear without haze-
Emotions storm in like lighting, thunder, and rain-
Physical feelings have my body going insane-
Lost under covers till the day finally breaks-
Illuminating passion bodies intertwined in a maze-
Baby girl is a blessing like her love that I crave-
Baby girl is the best thing I love all of her ways-
Blessed by spirits her beauty blesses my days-
-
RICHARD ITSKOVICH
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 11:26 AM UTC
A sea of gratitude splashes
onto the inner walls
of this humbled heart
within me.
Seasons, poets, places, people,
singing, devotion, faith, trust...
Years have rained down like
petals from a flowering tree.
Abundance blesses me
in true simplicity.
As my soul enters the womb
of renewal, unexpected blessings
wing across the world to say hello
from where our sun already shines.
Manila, New Zealand, Delhi, Chennai,
where you are it is already morning,
and the warm sunlight of your day
shines in your greetings and wishes.
May the bliss that you bring me,
dear world family, splash all over
your own dear hearts, and may
peace and harmony be ours
on this beautiful blue planet!
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 8:30 PM UTC
God blesses your hands, takes them both
and lifts you so you can stand.
This is your homecoming,
a long time in coming,
72 years, eleven months, and one week
you’ve been running this race, so I think
we can afford a little grace when you sprint
the last mile, so strong and sweet
into your Father’s open arms.
And you know those angles leading you away
ain’t got nothing on you, not even reasons for you
to stay. And they’ll be trying hard, cause they know
they haven’t got a thing compared to your heart.
This is your homecoming,
a final graduation, a certification you’ve done
right by life. And we’ll still be here singing
sacred Somns from the earth you once called
your own, waiting to see you smile in the wind
even though your gone. And we are so happy
for you, but we’re still human, and selfish,
so we’re a little sad and regretful too.
But we won’t ever stop missing you,
cause this is your homecoming,
and the Lord says it’s time to
go along. And when you see us again
you’ll be so proud, cause we’re going to
keep on, and we’re going be strong,
and we’re going give this life every last bit of fight
we’ve got just like you did. So we’ll let you go,
for a little while, for your homecoming.
Cause someday we’ll be coming home too.
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
Spring clothes the Earth in silk of green
And parades her in a rare sheen
Summer gifts the plants with bloom
And causes the bees to hum and zoom
Autumn makes the leaves yellow
And blesses the season with fruits mellow
Winter brings hail and snow
With icy winds that blow and blow
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 7:40 AM UTC
Hormones raging...for what I'm told not to engage in, even if we're engaged, if it's not official than its still revealed as...fornication. There's a disturbing underestimation of the result given for this particular sinful demonstration, society has taught us that we test the car before we drive it, but the 1st issue with this analogy told is that we're comparing human sin to...driving a vehicle? But if we're going to establish analogies on this subject , then, well, why don’t we also consider these: do we begin eating Thanksgiving dinner before were done saying grace? Do they hand out diplomas and degrees for classes you haven't passed yet? Do they give Super Bowl trophies to teams expected to win? So how do we justify receiving the prize of an unmet process? Far too many have allowed marriage to become an afterthought or not even a passing idea our better judgment caught because man had rather receive a temporary pleasure that sin conceives birthed in disobedience, deceptive grip around your conscience until your choked by the demands of a lustful flesh that wants to be fed in continual expedience. Or...Maybe, I’m just being a hater, fighting not to be twistedly envious and curious of a world that I’m forbidden to embrace. Or Maybe I’m fighting...the temptation and frustration of being a single man patiently searching for that good thing and the favor my Father blesses along with her. Maybe I’m fighting...not to nosedive into the bottomless trap laid for human souls, lured in by lack, of self-control. It troubles me in just how simple... he brags and boasts then plots and plans his next victim in the desecration of his and her Creator’s Temple. But It’s not all his fault, because it was up to her to give him the key to this priceless location better known as her body.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
SO BRIGHT and soft is the sweet air of morning,
And so tenderly the light descends,
And blesses with its gentle-falling fingers
All the leaves unto the valley's ends--
It brings them all to being when it touches
With its paleness every glowing vein;
The wild and flaming hollows of the forest
Kindle all their crimson in its rain;
And every curve receives its share of morning,
Every little shadow softly grows,
And motion finds a melody more tender
That like a phantom through the branches goes--
So bright and soft and tranquil-rendering,
And quiet in its giving, as though love,
The morning dream of life, were born of longing,
And really poured its being from above.
4.2k
The old order changeth, yielding place to new
-Tennyson, Idylls of the King
Like dinosaurs our institutions gasp
In spasms of existential death; they pass
At first unnoticed by the casual unobserver
Who trips over a covenant that isn’t there
If you vote they give you a sticker
The ephemeral Constitution changed
Like sweaty skivvies by each president
Law libraries catalogued for pulp
By obedient functionaries in tees
If you vote they give you a sticker
The faithful escorted out of the cathedral
By a bored security guard on overtime
The altar linens for sale at Goodwill
And the sanctuary repurposed on T.V.
If you vote they give you a sticker
Some of The Just Plain Folks cheer for the Reds
And the others cheer only for the Blues
As the reincarnation of Jack Chick
Blesses their four-wheelers and plastic caps
If you vote they give you a sticker
Election placards on abandoned buildings
Promise again prosperity for all
The **** lab cooks behind The Kute Kidz
Private Academy of the Dance and Math
If you vote they give you a sticker
An outreach of the Bright Light Free Will
Missionary Temple of the Lord Jesus Christ
Of the Lamb Sanctified 501C The Reverend Doctor Master Bishop Billy-Bob Hairdo PhD, DD a-brangin’ Messages and His Esteemed Lady Apostle Heather
If you vote they give you a sticker
And blessed be the Holy AR-15
God gave to His People to defend themselves
Here in the freest country in the world
Which you can find behind the barbed-wire fence
If you vote they give you a sticker
While fleets of luxury presidential jets
Arc high over our public housing projects
Reminding us of our prosperity
Here in the richest country in the world
If you vote they give you a sticker
And them Jews for Jesus I guess they’re all right
But them other Jews they just ain’t no good
Nor them Cath’lics nor them Mormons neither
And don’t you get me started on them Baptists
(We seem to have been otherwise engaged)
“The old order changeth, yielding place to new” –
(But neither cares at all for me or you)
But if you vote they give you a sticker
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 7:30 AM UTC
I don't think there is any possible way to beat the beauty of an eye.
The gloss after a lovely tear waterfall,
for whatever the reason was,
happiness or sadness.
Color is also something that leaves me breathless.
The traits of someones eye could leave you speechless.
Eyes are unique.
In sizes, shapes, color, the way someone looks at you,
or the way you can see the sadness in as small as a glimpse.
I could almost fall in love with someone just for their eyes.
There was this time that I was falling for this girl.
And there was something so beautiful in the sadness
her eyes showed me.
Like she was asking for comfort, for love.
And I couldn't help but give it all to her.
She is the reason I realized the hope and passion
an eye beholds.
I think eyes should get more appreciation.
We need to be more thankful for the
small simple things life blesses us with.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Beauty in the sky as it blesses us with rain,
Beauty in the the words that swept away the tame,
Beauty in our fellow man whom fights with sword in hand,
Beauty that he may one day hold his peace at last my friend,
Beauty in the women whom can retort with strength and valour,
Beauty that she may one day find the grace to whit her manner,
Beauty in the blades of grass that blanket our earthly womb,
Beauty in the golden chains we lace around our tomb,
Beauty to whom it may seem is a mystery,
Can you tell me of true beauty?
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
When he sees a shine inside of her
Even while the Sun's descending rays are beaming in his eyes
Or the beautiful glow she has at the darkest hour of the night
He begins to hear love calling his name
The way she makes him feel like he's being nurtured all over again
Isn't a coincidence
She's not attempting to change him, only mold him into a better man
She makes him feel limitless
When the tips of her fingers smoothly caresses the hair on his head and whispers into his ear
She kisses his temple, her lips makes him tremble
And her soft voice is all he hears
He closes his eyes and Thank God
For sending him such a golden soul
Through all of his iniquities and transgressions he don't deserve
Her sweet sufficient love
But his graciousness for her is in evident form
He will walk with her during the pouring rain
Shed blood to share her pain
Captivated by her mysterious allure
He opens himself to love
Inviting her by her hands to join him
In Unison
Still blesses her with enough expansion to stride her confidence in pride
She makes the candle inside of him ignite
The romance inside cry
Out
She's his rib
That God silently plucked from his side in the still of the night as he slumbered
She's the dire lightning to his thunder
From her kind love he knows he's invincible
SHE is the principal
Of why he suits up his tie and perform longs days of labor and sweat
Because he knows that
He's her Eagle, soaring in the sky
He protects her with all of his life
She brings comfort to his soul
Strength to his bones
With one knee planted on the dust
He will hand her The World
No bedazzles are needed
He has his pearl
He refrains from anger
Controls his temptations
Exalt his rapture
Inside of his dominant, sensuous life
She is captured
In his confusion
His pain
frustration
passion and
emotional being
Words, Money, Jewelry, or Love can't explain the joy that she brings
He is a Man In Love
and a man in love, is no simple thing
Copy Right 2013
©Patty Ann
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
the quality of quantity is unmerciful,
prodigious production of
wine improperly aged,
pours soiled drops
spilled without craft,
care or taste,
poured too quick to be
nothing more than
less than waste
born in reckless unrestrained
than every thought a golden gift,
bestowed upon the masses,
droppeth like the harshest hurricane rains,
gives no moisture sustenance to the world,
only floods and lays waste in dazed hazes
blesses none but the one who
cannot but cant,
measures his own demeanor in the mirror,
unsuspecting the mirror mirrors
the ides of ego,
seeds of self destruction
the throned monarch
who giveth
but does not take,
thinking the king he is,
his own best,
even better than his creator
and tho he carvo's his retno critiques
upon the brows of his subjects,
he cares not,
for it boring brings
more mastubatory page views
his addition of success,
his edition of self congratulatory
of writs and snits,
which adds up to a whole lot of
****
but you may put you pen down now,
for the world needs only
need one poet,
and it ain't me,
and it certainly ain't
you
.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
I Love Feelings
I love it when excitement blesses me.
When my heart beats quickly
and I feel adrenaline flowing through me.
happy and sad !
at times beautifully mad
In love, oblivious
Confused and conspicuous.
How can this be?
What's happening inside of me?
I just want to feel completely free.
Questioned Again n' again !!!!
Oh I feel so #Insane
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
*I await the rain
To fall down and wash away
The times I regret
So the pain is left behind
And the rain blesses me life*
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 4:59 AM UTC
I WANT TO BE THE REASON YOUR BONES THAT ARE ATTACHED TO YOUR GUMS APPEAR ,TO BLESS HUMANITY AS A LIVING, BREATHING STAR BLESSES OUR DULL EARTH
AND WHEN SPEAK OF ME I WANT YOUR SOUL TO POUR OUT OF YOUR TENDER LIPS GRACEFULLY BUT VIVID LIKE A WATERFALL
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
The cold metal of a silver spoon
Leaves stale memoriesin my mouth
Never had the taste of luck
Nor privilege that blesses few.
Underrated, judged and boxed in
Beaten by myself, along with societies glares
Dare to escape, to fight
The cornered beast flashes fangs
Claiming a cocky egomaniac
Through blinds eyes and deaf ears.
Rise and die for a 1000 days.
Tremors of tears on the fringe
Of empty yet focused demeanor.
Never apologizing for monster
That reflects from success.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Forbidden fruit of Barbados
Oh how she glows.
Sectional sweetness
Bitter in aftertaste
My favorite things in life
Always seem to be similar
Maybe because
I prefer the familiar
The curve and the shape
Contour and ripe
As I slice thee in half
I notice your walls
Serrated spoon in hand
Showing gratitude toward the land
For it bears blessed fruits
The fruit blesses me
Upon receiving sour
Bite after bite
The bitterness sets in
Night after night
Grapefruit makes me happy
Grapefruit makes me smile
I hope that I don’t get sick
At least not for a while
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 2:28 PM UTC
spirited ferret
rare, ear hair tipped white
frightened pip carefully snaring
darting pairs flipping
clipped wings, carted
shipped riggings sing
lark songs
darkness brings
wronged Nips
angered and singing
ears ring banging hangers
tearing string Narcs protest
ingesting *** freeing boxes
rocks bling
****** tracks shear hearts
parked rack blesses
black guests
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC