"considerations" poems
Your advice
Is my vice
And you continue to add vices
And you swim like mad pisces
Through my stream of thoughts
With all the lessons you taught
From all the advice you brought
So I avoid your glance
To not give you the chance
To see the results of our fishdance
Or how much my life has been enhanced
Until I begin to flounder
As those pisces become piranha
Feeding on other considerations
And growing colossal
Until your kraken is in my mind
Cracking up my mind
Stacking up the time
It takes to get out of bed
As I trust the tentacles that tie me down
To a life floating on the surface
Of an ocean
Where the fish burn like a furnace
And I watch the water evaporate
Like the advice on which you elaborate
As the advice that was once there
Is currently water vapor in the air
As I start to think of us as a pair
From inside my secret underwater lair
That is the cavern of my mind
Where a school of fish
Teach me how to live and die
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
Been a week since the new year arrived at dawn's door
Seven sunrises had passed making way for many more
Resolutions, wishes, aspirations cast into winds of new days
In hopes they'd be carried forth on each dawn's new rays
*Let us welcome the fresh air that come
Inhale it deep as reminder that we're luckier than some
Let us embrace the opportunity of time
A privilege bestowed so we could still pen in rhyme
Let us cherish the love from family and new found friends
Shower upon them the gift of verse that never ends
Let us strengthen existing virtual and physical connections
Reinforce them with kindness, fortitude and good intentions
Let us sieve past experiences that mar us black
Dispense with animosity, ill thoughts and considerations that lack
Let us trudge forward into the unknown together
Hands in hands and hearts to hearts into the unforeseeable future*
No matter who you are or where you've been
We'll all get our fair share of twenty fifteen
We've all been granted if you'd only take advantage
In the great book of life, on a fresh, brand new page
Do note that this is just ideal advice not so much as a plea
I know the journey is long, arduous and never easy
I hope these words I've penned would lighten your load
Little bites of wisdom (I hope) for the long meandering road
I can't promise the rise of the nightly moon
But the sun will rise where you are; and it will arrive very soon
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye
Re(ad(d): No worry
To, Love Our Sun :).
Signs like Gemini is to air
Sagittarius is to fire a pair
in this crossing with Pisces
to water is Virgo for earth
too We are the mutable ones!!
Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too
EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE
to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers
connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!!
We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings;
'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :)
EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling
So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON
The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross EYE'S
Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose W
music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates S
to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven A
to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened I N
so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer F USED
delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides B I
to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting STAR'S
from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing W
the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering I
a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's N
dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost 'S
children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils O
as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had ~/ E \~ N
claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered ~(:YES :)~ G
fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward (:FORGIVEN:). 'S
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
Oh, what I would give to be nine and benign
Because as I grow older the flow of concepts grows heavier
And swirls around me rapidly
Creating a whirlpool
I can feel the world pull
In the gravity of ideas
Given weight by words
That brings down birds
We look up only to see Jupiter
And we live on the Earth's back
Weighed down like mules by it's presence
Carrying conflicting considerations
Ideas inflicting incineration
The rain precipitating from the clouds in our minds
Develops a lofty humidity within humanity
And the leaves on the trees point downward
Erecting walls
To trap us in our gravity garrison
Plotting ways to crush each other
Time becomes the most effective method
As we wait to weigh down wanderers
With a point of view
In our gravitational pull
To make them our mule
Carrying our concepts
To strengthen our impact on the maelstrom
As our brain gets bolder
The water gets colder
But this ocean keeps spinning
Keeping the frigid water from freezing
And the gravity of what we think
Is the gravity that makes us sink
From concept cradle to gravity grave
Tranquil transcendence is what we crave
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 8:12 AM UTC
Running into yet another soft eyes and open lips
Trying to magically feel something more than what exists
Running into yet another guys arms that seem so genuine from afar
He really likes me brought me my 3rd drink tonight
He's tryna tap that...
Intellectual portrait that I have painted of myself
Running into yet another false hope of maybe this one is different
He can't hurt me unless I allow him to
penetrate parts that haven't been discussed
This feels so right
Running into yet another, "your the most special girl I've met" "wouldn't ever hurt you" line
Just to be spoon fed leftovers from
the previous drunken night
Or the alcohol soaked on a pink moist thick tongue
Running into yet another clear dream... (I can see clearer now the rain is gone)
Love songs no longer play because he has taken me to a fantasy land from Saturdays night rerun of a previous session
Picture perfect perfection precious pleasing.
Please don't stop because maybe you have tuned in to the right channel
Running into yet another guys lap saying I will dance for you and only you... And maybe him and only him.
Because words have become so cliche and I no longer can count how many arms have squeezed me firmly but have released quicker.
How many lips have accepted my open invitation to stay the night within
How many eyes I have let pierce my soul but to no avail,
they get what they want and dissolve.
No satisfaction, no guaranteed refunds of that stuff he left with
No mental pictures left of what ifs or possibilities of US being more than just lust
A must of endless considerations and my ridiculous thoughts of actually
Running into the same web of deceit deception.
So many descriptions of how I ran away from myself and have been searching nonstop for the right sensation that can stop the temptations and erase the emptiness.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
at the first sight of you, my eyes did lie
such a vision aptly defined by
a priceless, timeless, true original
work of fine art but unobtainable
with one simple question
you enslaved my attention
instant gratification
was my only compulsion
led to no insinuation
just an invitation
fueled by a connection
forced us in the direction
that led to a culmination
that never came to fruition
....but...
no real violations
to either one's restrictions
you stuck to convictions
no need for contritions
taking considerations
realized complications
to us as additions
for any continuations
or further desicrations
on sacred institutions
...and...
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 11:05 AM UTC
THE CAMINO CHRONICLES
( Sidhe – Spirit, Ard Ri - High King, Tir na nOg – Land of eternal youth )
JUST A MOMENT AGO
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
Father in Time embracing Mothers Melody to rhyme
Birthing Sidhe candles smile, lights of love, souls glory
Stars dancing with joys release, Sidhe awakening to loves destiny
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
I stood upon Erins western shore amidst constellations considerations
And dreamed I had sailed again across the eternal sea
To Tir na nOg there returned to be
Oisin the Wanderer no more, ever seeking my beloved Naimh’s shore
Queen of the Sidhe, her consort again, Ard Ri of Eternity
Ah my heart demands my Sidhe sings of Naimh’s wondrous beauty. .
Her Eyes Like Twin Candles Dancing
Lips Full Of Mysterys Promise
Her Hair Bound, Crowned With Lustered Glory
A Smile To Die For . .
She Moves . . Sidhe Moves . . Like Poetry . .
Aie, Her Voice, Her Voice, Like Honey and Cream
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
When love was a rose without thorns
Before tides of centuries tears
Swept us apart
Just a moment ago, it was just a moment ago
The glorious moment of our days glory
Our age of grace
Father in Time embracing Mothers Melodys Grace. .
INTO THE DARK
What does a candle remember . . .?
What does its flame recall . . .?
Aiee Aiee . . . Akhenaten Flee We . . . Nefertiti Aieee Aieeeee
Flee . .Flee . . . Undone We . . . Betrayal. .Flee Flee
Akhenaten Akhenaten . . . Must Flee We . . . Wee Wans Take
Nefertiti Holds . . . Flee We Must . . . Fleet . . . Flee Fleet . . .
Harps heart has chambers that sigh with grief
Ashes of roses burned with weeds
Remains of our loves day
Harps heart by hearts harp no music moved to test
Hall of memories by no one chorus caress
No whispered echo no candles smile no Nefertiti
NOW MY CITADELS HALL I MUST NEEDS MY IRE
RETREAT TO WHERE NEEDS MUST ABJURE DESIRE
Once more to recite survivals bitter creed
By heartstone embers to gnaw betrayals cold deed
WILL TO BEAR SILENT DEEP EMPTY DAY
HARP HEART STILLED
by no Nefertiti played.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
Well, Neptune and his sad sack. What to say about the watery Fish? Nothing really. You slip around in life oversensitive to your own liquid shadow. You're far worse than Cancer when it comes to feelings and such, no wonder most of you remain lost throughout life, like a body snatcher, you dream the imaginary world of happy people and happy endings. A Disney disaster really, unable to be on your own for long, you need other people to keep you grounded and on the right track. Codependent anyone? Jesus Christ on a **** stick, I dated one of your kind and couldn't shake him, 25 voice mails later. Tragic really. But it's not all bad, you speak of posies, whisker woo-woo's, and butterfly kisses. Shut the **** up and reach into the real abyss of madness, you poser! Truly the "flake" of the zodiac, you dismiss common manners with some attitude of "Look at me, look how silly I am!" No jack *** you're an irreverent dick/bitch who has no considerations for others. Don't even get me started on the drug use, ya loser. Compassion? Go to church, don't come here.
Advice: Anything is possible when it happens, but for you, nothing ever happens. Wake up. Stop trying to find yourself and start creating yourself, you ******* *****
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
MEMO
FROM: Mr Phil Indifrence, Strategy Chess Insurgency Corps.
Space Headquarters, Castleview Avenue, Dunstable XY10
TO: Ms Petal Dontrun, Crimson Chess Federation.
De la Wigan Headquarters, Wigan, United Kingdom, SM00
Dear Ms Dontrun,
Please accept my greetings. I write to clarify my stance on our
outstanding matters and hopefully to deter further speculation,
gossips, rumours, distortions, misinformation and sensationalism by the media.
As you are aware I contacted you on the day as arranged only to
be confronted with a response that was astoundingly unethical, un-
professional, rude, inconsiderate and totally uncalled-for. It was
so below expected standard that it raised doubt about your suit-
ability to be seen as a matured adult much less an intelligent being.
Still in the reverberations of this seismic occurrence I called again in
the hope it was a momentary loss of composure and yet again I was
subjected to a deluxe version of the first onslaught. To say I was
flabbergasted is putting things mildly, most especially as it was
totally unwarranted and underserved. It was obvious you lacked
any sense of decorum and had become an affront to common human decency and an embarrassment to your status.
In all fairness you did call some weeks later, but it had become
apparent that the ethos, protocol and cordiality that my Organi-
sation works within may not be relevant to your Organisation,
hence my unavailability to your contact.
I write to primarily reiterate that my position on this matter and
the present status quo is not based on some immature Ego play,
stubbornness, power-play or pride, rather it's in all truthfulness it's a belief in upholding standards in ethical considerations. I do not believe that bad manners, ill-considered behaviour, ill-judgement and a lack of sensitivity and good grace are matured and progressive trends to interact cooperatively within.
In conclusion, this is my stance on this matter and I hope it helps
your understanding. I believe a formal Apology from you and your
Organisation is appropriate in this regard and will instigate a
return to cordiality between our Organisation.
If you however feel this is unnecessary I will respect your decision
and the situation will remain unresolved.
I thank you for your attention.
Regards,
Phil Indifrence. C.E.O.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 5:18 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both were indifferent
To moral considerations
Both used tricks and lies
That tested people’s patience
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Political expediency
Lacking in morality
And both had a thing
For pluralities
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both used extremely
Dishonest methods
And both were lacking
In basic ethics
It’s not that big a jump
Between Machiavelli
And Donald Trump
Both were cunning
And had no moral code
And history has shown
What that forebodes
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
It's a long walk,
the way that women are,
and I've already lost miles
to the races.
Try appealing to a youthful
star, have 'em throw money
to the wayside.
I was howlin'
like some horrid wind.
I was prowlin',
bayside,
sick of the **** I was sittin' in.
I was a wizard,
baby,
I was a blizzard
blowin'
through your front door.
I try, I try,
I try, I try,
now put me on trial,
baby,
you can't fake style!
It's not a mask,
and it's not just a past
but something more.
And I'll be able to tell
just what that is
as soon as I
figure all
The above my brow
considerations.
The ones that we
crawl towards,
the delicacies that
you spit at me,
you spit them from your
mouth; young,
European tongue,
look at what you've done!
Why?
Why so profound?
Why,
just act petty,
demographics
don't stop me.
Why?
Why so profound?
Why,
just be pretty instead,
demographics don't stop me.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
~
a gateway approaches,
from just 'round the bend;
in this march of months,
that are nearing the end.
here autumn's shedding,
of its shimmering gown;
from sun-kissed warmth,
under broad leafy boughs;
where in shady spaces,
summer's solace is found!
but now comfort is sought,
in gazing within, and
in harvesting thoughts,
'neath sun-starved skin;
where if we are wise,
care will be taken,
to channel our musing,
into gratitude's music.
carefully shaping,
the sum of our notes;
stringing our lines, in
a score full of hope!
preparing the soul,
for the wintery chill;
compelling the spirit, to
see life through goodwill!
a courageous knowing,
finds a way to be still; in
the altitude of gratitude,
an antidote to winter's pill!
for in the zenith of night,
come the sounds of lullaby;
and in the absence of light,
whispers of a coming cheer.
solitary voices blending,
to the rythmn of a beat;
a heavenly choir singing,
a chorus growing strong;
opening the season's door,
illuminating advent's song!
~
in post script
these musings represent muliple seasons of observations, soul considerations in how to articulate what my heart knows to be true. so with every year that ages this soul, i become more convinced that the season of thanksgiving may in fact be the very greatest antidote for selfishness, a precursor for advent, the season of giving and receiving; and that if approached properly, our hearts are best positioned to embrace the truest meanings of the coming season of light!
sending peace and love to those who embrace these walls as sacred space!
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 1:54 AM UTC
Geometric Considerations and Nomenclature for Reflectance, U. A march section in B flat minor follows.
Cordelia is nervous about her father's tax position but does not tell the others. Japan's Olympic judo team.
Rehberg married his high school sweetheart, Jan, a water attorney who represents farmers and ranchers. In four games, he had been sacked 23 times and had a pass intercepted 12 times.
Eastern Europe, and conspired to spread communism throughout the world. There are 55 schools in Kortrijk, on 72 different locations throughout the city, with an estimated 21,000 students. Go through all tools, materials, and so forth in the plant and work area.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
*There was a time,
A time so fair,
A zero despair,
Cuz She was fair,
Life as I knew it was drizzling daisies,
Bleeding me the feel like the crazies.
Perfect absolutes,
Chimerical dilutes.
Enchanting moments with ephemeral bliss,
Rapt me into blissful abyss.
Ambient lightnings,
Forming supernova sightings.
My soul trapped in her seductive high,
Unknowing of her destructive lies.
Little was I was aware of her two-tone design,
My ****** Valentine
An alter ego so divine.
Demon with deceitful frames,
Unravelling her intimacy games.
Her bloodless lips whispering in the corridors of time,
Deporting me into her hate grimes.
Mutating into odium of torrential far cry,
Lies sarcastrophic podium of her mislaid demise.
Gagged and bound as me you broke down
And I believed everything,
As my love for you was logic drowned
Round and round I emanated all the way down.
Still submerged in the swamp of dummy beliefs,
Hoping to heal with concealed appeals,
Squeals of her feels reveal choking ordeals,
Cuz it was a different belief in a veiled inception,
Infinitely drowning with these unconcealed dogmas,
Remembrance feels like a past from yesterday,
All I am choked with are these Interstellar beliefs,
Detonating memories,
At the haste of light,
Giving me an anguish fright from the down right,
Corroding my heart with those Sulphur memories we once called a lifetime.
Like those 4 years with 4 million considerations.
Still lost in her maze of psychopathic daze,
Downward spirals decayed & set ablaze.
Reveries of her infinite sentiment once called transcendences.
All that’s left now are your radioactive reminiscences,
Of a place once called Tomorrowland.*
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
The form and nature,
Of a person,
Or something associated with them,
A very peculiar notion,
Distinguished from other beings,
With kind feelings and mild dispositions,
Sympathy and benevolence,
Politeness as well,
Learning and concerned,
Reflections and opinions,
Meditations of oneself,
Principles and considerations,
Engrossed in truth,
We trifle,
Without knowledge of meaning,
In an all too abrupt life.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 7:33 AM UTC
A vase can be beautiful,
And can be filled with the ephemeral or the immortal.
If I think of you as a vase;
I think art nouveau,
Willowy, beautiful, in a languorous setting,
Among a cast of Greek characters
Staged around a classic reflecting pool,
It’s water stirred slightly by everlasting
Considerations of life.
The vase, tall, green, sinewy,
Can halt anarchy in nature,
As it sits resplendent, monarchical;
That may be enough.
But sleek ceramic fails to define.
Oh, filled with garden beauty, that vase
May win the contest of the day,
But nature vigorously corrodes
And the vase declines.
Yet it can become more radiant, as its soul,
Alive and growing, shows through.
May you, best philosopher for you,
Deny custom that leaves only emptiness.
Let muscle ache from the pull of the oar,
Feel the dog bite,
Taste the chocolate that tightens the throat.
Remember: the leaves of summer will be still;
The undulant song of the cicadas
Will rises and fall, rise and fall,
As swarms of blackbirds wheel to that sound.
These things, and the vase,
Are all we know of life, and are all of life.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
A morning philosophical conversation
approached the hard euthanasia question..
A saddened room as several with tears
recounted their special tragedies..
their own close life endings..
Other reflections revolved around
considerations of laws and rights..
troubled preferences for dark
decisions made now...
An afternoon wildfire with exploding fury
a sudden jump of canyon walls
raged into a city surprised..
Mass evacuations.. decisions right now..
demands of how to choose life..
Still many transfixed by the terrible beauty..
orange..billowing.. burning.. chaos...
Assessments reach both forward and back..
questions of rehearsals for future nows..
inadequacies of many decisions past..
Somehow in our heat today.. a continuing
blaze not yet contained..
new awareness..an urgent plea..
to experience life's beauty and
constricting pain.. already enclosed
in an expectant now...
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 1:56 PM UTC
Just promise to give the keys to the gates, but
Not only to Apollinaire. Just be like Jerusalem,
Opening the gate to the king coming. Kind
David is on the way. He is coming to the gate.
You are a holy person, keeping the keys to the gate
Of Jerusalem. Behind this gate, there is the garden,
Where is the apple the king wants to eat, he has
To consume. Fresh juices of life and being.
Before the dawn of Time, you were chosen
By the king and you have already chosen him
As well. You, a person from the Cossacks,
A post-Scythian phenomenon with Talmud roots.
You saw seagulls in the European north in
The front of the Tallinn synagogue, you saw
Seagulls in the European south in the front of
The endless sea, where Columbus started his trip.
You saw the seagull. You are the seagull. The seagull
Is in you. ”Yes, you are going for a seagull”, you said.
”The mystical unity with the seagull of Genoa”, I said.
The most beautiful. The most attractive. The most
Intelligent. The wisest. The most moral. The most
Feeling. The seagull. There is only the seagull, neither
The world nor people. It is a belief in the seagull.
11.2.23
Feb 11, 2023
Feb 11, 2023 at 4:52 PM UTC
i listen to Dubstep music and sip tea
i am the Post-Mark
Pondering Gender politics and finishing my tea
i am non violent, a pacifist
But don't put it past me that i won't clench a fist
With righteous grist
If you make me feel alone in my considerations temporarily
i'm not a weak soul am hardy folk
Hardly lost faith when i realised God was a joke
Like a big fat egg yolk splattered all over paper
Christmas hogging 3 months of calendar
A Consumerist campaign, but tell me i'm the miser
Police tend to pass me in the streets, i think smart
Skin colour ain't the first part
One of the mainly white audience at the Public Enemy show
The system as it stands fears me though
If you stop and searched my heart you'd **** me though
i Listen to Deep House and sip Lucozade
Lost deep in this house
i've never worked hard at a job
So **** lucky at birth to have wealth
But that's my parents money (and I'm not in any way responsible for slavery)
Kanye West with his Confederate Flag ****
"I'ts mine now, what you gonna do?"
Little did we know that we were the 'New Slaves'
Contemporary thinker, i read the game cover to cover
After all they taught me from birth how to study
i'm too uninterested in ticking boxes to earn money
To satisy the transferable skills that you want from me
I'll Enjoy a nights alcoholism instead of getting high and writing an essay
Am I getting too wordy?
i'm trying to spit now, can i? can I?
The gender politics on my mind at inappropriate times
i told the guy at the door i wasn't thinking about race
Most people are thinking about 'the race'
White Middle Class kid picked up a mic and tried to rap again...
I listen to Hip Hop and drink water
Hardly faded I'm perfectly sober
I'm energised naturally, words seem to strengthen me
I am the grassroots, I have been wrongly righted
My Parent's deserve this so want me to sit tight
But I'm jumping right into the middle of hip hop (and feminism)
And theres nothing you can do about it.
[For All My ****** and All My *******
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
Seems to me that the man who doesn't Shine his Shoes, Might Not have remembered to change His Socks ! If you only half-way stop at the Stop sign, Must you also wait for the light to turn Fully Green, Before you GO ? Do Ants really like being in OUR company...OR..do they Simply like the trails We leave? If streets are paved to keep down the Dust, Does that mean there's never any Dirt on our Vehicles! Since cars have battery operated Starters, Should Humans have to be Plugged in overnight ? If Floss is used to clean between our teeth, Would it be better to do it More Often, So as to have a Better taste for things ? Some folks sing out Loud with Joy, Some folks show their Joy in their Face, Some in their talk, some in their habits, some in their attitude.....WHAT is Seen in Their Mirrors ?? If a Road Hog wallows in Width, does that mean we should dig Deeper to keep from falling into Pits ? If Truth is seen in the Light, How long of an extension cord should WE carry around ? If DUST is something to come from, It's sure nice to know, that You've got something firm to stand on! Was that Wind blowing thru my hair, OR was I just running to Fast ? Aha, there's a bench, I'll sit down and wait for you. Looking forward to that LONG Chat , Aren't YOU ??
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 4:14 AM UTC
Yesterday morning I woke at 4AM again
And once more my mind got churning.
I juggled with some words in my head,
Composing free verse on how I write my poems.
I wondered whether I should grab a pad
And write.
Or even get on my laptop.
But I made myself go back to sleep,
Forgetting it all.
So here I am,
A day later at 10.30AM,
Pouring out these verses:
A sort of Stream of Consciousness.
No thought of structure
Or metre
Or rhyme.
Just emphasising certain words and phrases
By giving them separate verses
Of their own.
Something I learnt once
When reading a book in Pudsey Library
About how to teach kids to write poetry
An easy way.
Unfettered by considerations of metre or form,
You can express yourself freely,
As deep as you wish.
Just let your emotion
Or Philosophy
Run free.
Let your words cascade
Over those shiny pebbles.
Babbling along through winding willows,
To crash over waterfalls
In a crescendo of sound.
A stream that sparkles in the light
Of sun or moon (and stars),
Wafted by scents of abundant flowers
And sappy cut grass.
God's Grandeur radiating all around.
Enjoy.
Paul Butters
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC
most of my poems come spontaneous,
dare I say even easy, the composition,
tumbling rumbling usually no fumbling,
this one, the prep commences. a month priority plus, with wellsprings of considerations,
in advance…
*’tis Miz Patty’s day of birth,
ah, the feminine mystique
prevents me from revealing
her precessional numerical
decades of decadence,
but adoration of this Magi,
is not so constrained,
so bend my knee to the woman
who writes a
poem’s complexity
as if it were a fine
medieval tapestry,
colors aflaming,
workmanship intricate
intriguing, well deserving
of a place,
in the Metropolitan Museum Cloisters fortress,
that guards
the Hudson River’s Upper Valley’s
verdant stippled wider majesty,
near to where Washington’s
troops fled Manhattan heights
to safety in New Jersey, most
ignominiously
*I’m told that tears arose,
then fell, when first she
read this inattributed essay
on this jubilee day, a clarion
reminder note of her coronation,
to this great green planet,
Missoura Mama as she is
with great affection so known
throughout this glorious land*
*Ah, wax too eloquent,
never my style,
only my favorite sin,
when one begins
to pray tribute,
to a finer poet…and
mine own heroine*
*this aperture of insight,
this scrap of script,
why the papyrus turns
pinkish red, as she demurs
this ode of praise,
while the edges crisp
burnt, brown ~black
by the heat of her outraged
enraged protestation
of “way too much,”
a pretense commenced
by my opportuned
impermissioned reveling
revelation of this
datapoints accidental
dislocating disclosure
as is my sin actuelle,
go on too long says
my devil muse,
so a final thought*
*if this should somehow be,
the first poem you’ve recovered
in this land of words gone mad,
make to hers, and there spend
a day, a lifetime, in a lovely land,
where her words will slip through
your eyes and hands, like fine
grains of sand, each letter,
a pearl in
black and white*…
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 11:00 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder where I’ll be
In five years. Such possibilities though I know I squander
Most of them. None just feel right y’know?
I don’t want to live loud though quiet is
Often too boring or given to embarrassing
Introspection. Sometimes I wonder
What it’s like to live like a shaking knee.
Impatient
Do I want to be a tombstone?
Something for people to look at
But never read
As they drive by. Infamy is till a method to fame
But will my ghost care about social considerations?
A friend to all, remembered into smiles bittersweet
With an empty longing
Live in the now, an out of tune G-chord with a broken pick
Applause not because you like the music but
Because you know the people onstage.
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 11:42 PM UTC
we are the people
who care only
when there's no care left
we are the people who are void of empathy
we are the one who speaks
while our emptiness sparkles within us
we are the hero's we are the losers
we are everything what we desire to
we are just not ourselves
we looked upon as a stars
we looked down as meagre ones
whatever we feel is alien to others
we are missing ones, we lose ourselves in shapes of others
we are seeking ones, we are loved ones
without love..we love only where's nothing left
it is insane to expect, why do we still care
while everything hurts-- the people, their words their actions
we are everyone and everything
what we long to
we are just not ourselves
not to be longing not to log in with spirits
we desire to hold a spirit-- while our spirits shrink within flesh
we are the forgotten ones , we are the victorious
here are the notions we must not take for-granted
despite we do, till it is finished
it seeks us everything- we finish it without seeking
we begin it without finishing; we finish without starting
we dwell upon sadness, we dwell upon frightfulness
we desire to be whatever we wish to
we are everything, we are everyone
we are just not ourselves
silence holds me like a forgotten friend
i answer with all my sinking-- where to be how to be what to do
these are all the wondering i wonder every now and then
with all considerations, i wonder how to ****** lost souls
to transplant the missing gaps, not to desire a thing
we hold onto despite; we let go with ourselves
we are everyone..we are everything
what we desire to
it's only..we are not just ourselves
the extra ordinary matters to meet the ordinary ones
time for everything, time to do all chores
we beseech our manners without mannerism
we leave a mark which nothing heal
the materialism overshadow us-- we sign with our gestures
to make it worse..without realizing
we realize when its gone..yet we don't amend
we are our shadows, we are our fleshes
we are souls we are the sinking hearts
to be seen everywhere, to be felt in each pattern
we are everything we are everyone
what we desire to
we are just not ourselves
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC