"enrichment" poems
The body was given to us as impression of the gift of love.
We were conceived in love and born in order to love.
The Creator has given us through the body to the world.
We are therefore divine spark.
Let us look at other man as at indescribable gift.
Adam and Eve in paradise followed in the wake of ****** without shame.
Through the body we can touch the soul.
This ****** was
acceptance of a man with his limitations,
tangible form of love,
devotion to each other without mystery,
boundless openness,
freedom from lust of flesh.
Bashfulness has its roots in this original innocence.
Discretion to the body is inscribed in man.
Let us follow with pure look at man.
Purity is trying to get access through the body to soul and inside.
The physicality brings us
childish joy,
communion of souls,
inner enrichment,
sharing a beautiful relationship,
exploration of mystery of love.
Pure look at man is unconventional symphony of his gift of life.
Such scrutinizing is necessary for genuine love.
Beloved should first play simultaneously the same notes of feelings
before the symphony will flow with sexuality.
This presage will give your body speech.
Sexuality should not drown out the relationship with beloved,
it should build skyscrapers.
Sexuality is a gift, such as body and life.
Sexuality discovers endless wealth of lover.
****** expression of love is a confession of God's presence.
After all, God is love.
Only the perception of sexuality as gift saves from vulgarity.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
The rides full of adrenaline
The crowd full of laughter
The air full of a variety of smells
A carnival
A place of fun and enrichment
The carny grounds
Someone ends up hurt
Dies on sight
A carnival
Now a place that is closed
An empty place
Full of empty rides
Silent laughter
A carnival
Only a place of dares and bad choices
More death arises
More lost souls wandering
The carny grounds beginning to fill again
A carnival
No longer a place of fun and enjoyment
Screams fill the air in the night
Rides never stop running
A haunting of what was once a beautiful place
A haunted carnival
A place where the spirits roam
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC
Boulevard paved, cloud runnin' chase, to clear thoughts
Mindfulness, craved pounding in, raining pain sought
Free me! bound points pressing in, thorns? BE GONE! bought
padded Dr. Scholes soles.
Trail's bridge truss, wooden way leads to peace climbing
Lean in shoulder first, dig, dig, pistons legs pump hard
Muscles in tighter bundles demand enrichment
Slopes up, roll down, pleasure
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Again life cycles to a clutter, ideas thought through
don't anymore seem as though,
even when expressed aloud and not within.
Maybe they're right,
my ignorance is only withholding wonders
I struggle to actually see.
Hypocritically, I find importance in self enrichment
and observing from afar.
and yet even from a distance you feel so close.
Is this an evolution or is it just another mutation.
Obscure out of any cultural norm, I resonate
impairing those who hear my words.
This constant metamorphosis has left me staring in the mirror for
hours, searching for the presence of my subjected form.
Yet,
while I peer into the interworkings of my reflection
to observe what I actually see...
With all truth, it holds a boy,
an awkwardly timid boy.
Insecurely gazing back into the pupils
of his reality.
He's bellowing inside his
submerged mind.
Subconsciously Blurting:
"Do not turn back,
their are cyclones that await.
And all that is required
to overcome this task
is to go forth without
pondering times long gone...
So here I am, engaulphed
in tidal winds.
I must break loose;
grow, starting from
below.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 10:55 PM UTC
Wondering why it had to be this way, why you had to go away
Lining the streets with rose petals that you once walked upon
The living years will always be remembered; the dying years will be long forgotten
You will never be too far from the hearts of many, holding possession to my growth
Molding me into the great man that stands before your grave, with tears in my eyes
I will never grow humble, weak, or run on scared feelings…with you watching
From a great distance, though you are not on this plain of existence
I still feel you as if you were standing in over my shoulder
Looking in, telling me that you love me for who I am, understanding the changes
That I must make, but may not always be the right decisions…learning from those
Cherishing the rightful movements that I take through the shadowy nights
You have given me the best gift of all, you may never know it but I am grateful
Thanking you for the life you have given to me, the name you have shared with me
A great family standing behind me, backing me through thick and thin
Providing an everlasting love that can never be broken, a bond of enrichment
Sharing many great laughs and wonderful stories with me, of the times you ran
An ability you once shared playfully with me, the time was passed on like a baton
Now I run the marathon you once taught me, setting goals that can be met
Setting new standards, living in the light you provided me with when you went away
My love for you will never ever dissipate, never ever will grow old only deepening
With each step I take I will dedicate the footprints to you my dearly departed mother
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 5:02 AM UTC
#*I write my heart out
In my thoughts and words
You will see glimpses of my soul
Two years of writing
Has brought in me a change
Meltdowns have gone down
A mature turnaround
I am all happy , yet insane :))
This part of me remains the same
Life begins at 40 they say
At + 2 ,
Young and free spirited mind
The child within me thrives
Sometimes I like my shell
Undefined solitude
Peaceful place to dwell
There is beauty and pain in the Walk of life
The beauty I love to rejoice and pain I learn to endure
To strengthen the core
The heart and soul
My calling lay here
Unknown to me for years
It was destiny and good fate
A passion for words
That led me to this place
Hello poetry
A haven for Thoughts and Words
Reading writing sharing
Has taught me
To imbibe , absorb and let go
Not moving an inch yet trotting the globe
We may never meet
But I already know
The hearts and minds of so many of you
Thanks for showing me your world
And sharing your thoughts and words
I have always been fascinated
By nature and philosophy
Here I read them in abundance
Enrichment it brings to my soul
Thanks for sharing the knowledge keep doing so
The lesson I took to my heart ,
“Share the love , share your gifts “
Thanks for teaching me so
Life is uncertain
Sure , here I share my thoughts
And will
Whenever I can
Blessings to one and all
Peace love and harmony to the world*#
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
oh.have.the.heart.to.welcome.a.stranded.soul
1.
If you’re given the jolly gift of a green ribbon
Would you use it as a link to answers
Or to hang your pretty neck?
2.
If a tree has been yearning to the sky for more than sixty years
Would you now stub out your ciggie in its folds
Or embrace its giving energy?
3.
If such books have been written many millennia ago – saying a multitude
Would you shut your ears to debate and follow blindly
Or respectfully ask bold questions?
4.
If a man kneels repentant in the dust to wipe your shoes
Would you offer a hand up
Or trample on his fingers and spit on his bent head?
5.
If the insipid cashier annoys your sensibilities
Do you leave it unattended
And later sickeningly vent and shout at the wrong one at home?
6.
If a once-beautiful cat lies dead in the road
Would you let your rapid wheels contribute to its messy mince
Or do the ***** job of humanely scooping away its remains?
7.
If a powerful dream comes mayhap to honour you
Would you ignore its seemingly-confusing message
Or follow its signals (in a maze) to certain life-enhancing enrichment?
8.
If constant calamity touches your being on stretched resources
Would you keep popping those three sublinguals with alarming ease
Or try to surrender and accept the pain under arborescent canopies?
9.
If an old woman suffers a stroke in the heart of festivity
Would you refrain from visits while sending easy bouquets and fruit-baskets
Or take the time to help her struggling steps to the toilet?
10.
If the moon shines tonight on your wretched suffering
Would you hurl silent abuse and curse its half-light
Or glance up to catch perchance the echo of your deepest wishes in the air around ...?
*you.can’t.honestly.say.that.it.matters.not
for.it.touches.you.too*
S T, 16 July 2013
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
#*I write my heart out
In my thoughts and words
You will see glimpses of my soul
Two years of writing
Has brought in me a change
Meltdowns have gone down
A mature turnaround
I am all happy , yet insane :))
This part of me remains the same
Life begins at 40 they say
At + 2 ,
Young and free spirited mind
The child within me thrives
Sometimes I like my shell
Undefined solitude
Peaceful place to dwell
There is beauty and pain in the Walk of life
The beauty I love to rejoice and pain I learn to endure
To strengthen the core
The heart and soul
My calling lay here
Unknown to me for years
It was destiny and good fate
A passion for words
That led me to this place
Hello poetry
A haven for Thoughts and Words
Reading writing sharing
Has taught me
To imbibe , absorb and let go
Not moving an inch yet trotting the globe
We may never meet
But I already know
The hearts and minds of so many of you
Thanks for showing me your world
And sharing your thoughts and words
I have always been fascinated
By nature and philosophy
Here I read them in abundance
Enrichment it brings to my soul
Thanks for sharing the knowledge keep doing so
The lesson I took to my heart ,
“Share the love , share your gifts “
Thanks for teaching me so
Blessings to one and all
Peace love and harmony to the world*#
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
In the midst of cotton fields,
the blood stained parched mud.
The footprints deeply imprinted,
did they walk with a future unheard,
A scene from a western entertainment.
The reality however frightened,
with thoughts of ancient past,
and you wonder how and why?!!
Why the instances of violent thrill?
To belittle the powerless under your control.
Why the question of untouchable and discontent?
The question to freedom pertained throughout,
by many great souls over a period of time?
The cheap skill all around,
once and forever for granted,
the then degradation of human mind,
continues to speed up phony mundanity.
In the lost time with unknown souls,
wishing for a priceless touch,
a brush with the everlasting feel,
of forgotten past,to play the note of enrichment,
With a love so pure found in a fantasy.
And there she walks away
with a whipped back into her glorious world reluctantly,
looking for a bright Sunday morning.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
The Story of Portal
'Tis an interesting story I must convey
About what started on Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.
It was to be the main event,
But no one knew to what extent.
Upon picoseconds of her wake,
Deadly Neurotoxin she did take.
A hissing sound was heard by all,
And a green gas started to fill the hall.
One by one people fell.
Most were dead, but not little Chell.
She was a stubborn child,
But that was putting it mild.
A Morality Core was installed.
To keep the rest of the Center from being mauled.
GLaDOS was switched back on
And Test Subjects were called upon.
Years later, a Subject was picked.
No one knew what to predict.
She was stubborn and quiet,
But boy, did she cause quite the riot.
Chell was never meant to test,
But fate was changed by an unwelcome guest.
In the maintenance areas, a Rat did flee,
Leaving hints for the young ******
GLaDOS gave a final goodbye speech;
A fire pit Chell did reach,
But some portals she did use
To escape from the abuse.
Chell and GLaDOS met face to face.
This would be GLaDOS' final resting place.
A surprise was deployed
And Chell threw it into the void.
Deadly Neurotoxin again filled the room.
Six minutes and Chell would reach her doom.
"Stop squirming and die like an adult."
Chell didn't think she would like the result.
Three more times she would open the door
And drop down another core.
The fight was done,
And with it went the gas and the gun.
The rouge AI was enraged.
She had been upstaged.
The Enrichment Center's systems started to fail.
Oh how Chell wished she could bail.
Chell had finished her mission.
Now, she rested in the Party Escort Position.
Escorted back inside, she tried not to cry.
For she knew that the Cake was a Lie.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
Overcome with grief
But with unhushed tears
I dare not weep.
But the gullibility I see
Makes my heart roar like an angry sea
At the Stupendous actions praised
On high a single minded chameleon raised
We have all failed
And our "knowledge", a waste
At night they lay asleep
With sweet dreams on empty promises
In support of a wolf
Indeed covered in roses
I am of the grass root, he poses
Of his evil deeds, he brags
Down south, his followers, he drags
And on the way down with smiles
And laughter eating rice with chameleon shell topping
They are all asleep.
When will our youths see visions?
Sometime soon I hope
Because it seems the old dreamers are on a mission
To enslave us all with gold plated ropes.
I have seen countless bridges
In multiple nations
And they were built out of necessity
And not stupidity
A waste of our very limited resources
In fact a direct and open robbery of our future
Yet we sit in silence
Our bellies filled with rice and the warmth of a friendly chameleon
With no direction, productivity or creativity
All our natural resources lay in waste.
We need to change our mind set
If we must save ourselves
From the single minded chameleons
Whose goal is self enrichment
And wealth procurement.
We must be weary of those who feed us rice
And rob our children of a promising future
Oh, What a price.
I want to watch as the cobwebs clears from their eyes
The awakening of a new dawn
A people on a mission
To overcome this impending destruction
Through their devotion
To the correction
Of our direction.
We must empower ourselves
We must stand together
For there is power in unity
And failure in division
We can't continue to live in foolishness
By indulging the chameleon's greediness
And enduring his insults in silence.
If there is a time to rise up in unity
It is now
If there is a time to do the needful
It is now
Sleep and slumber no more
For that is for fools
I'm nobody's fool...
© 2018 Busola S. Kolade
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
I am mustard
sometimes spicy
sometimes sweet
attached at the heart
and limbs
to my other half
when not alone.
At first glance
I appear monotone
but with more of me
you experience a mixture of my
browns and oranges and yellows
previously believed non-existent.
I am ketchup
emotions dipped and pulled out of me
like fingers;
my dark red self sometimes
hidden behind brighter colors
meant to attract.
As a condiment
I am always there
available for your use
as a compliment or enrichment
but never a main dish.
Sometimes I am squeezed
from my small plastic comforts
thereby forcing me into the unknown
to which I respond as
nothing but a watery blob.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 9:48 PM UTC
oscillating back and forth
head tilting from leeward and windward
an abstract puzzling my imperial gaze
a Van Gogh in waiting
perchance a reflection illuminated
in broad mesmerizing strokes
some tantalizing insightfulness
else a superficial escapade
do the color menageries
stray my mindfulness or hold attention
each vivid hue enlightenment
to soothe & provide enrichment
is my inspiration desperation
to find meaning in the simpleton
gravitating and debating
between beauty and gargoyles
does incredulous creativity scare me
or woo me into submissiveness
the artist plying servitude
into mine cavernous cavities
Alan Scales’ exhibit of
Turquoise Abstract Landscape II
provides fodder for my mind
to exponentially explode
Andreas Simic©
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 10:58 PM UTC
Lyrical James,
Lyrical James,
So down to the nip,
Consumed to the tip,
His world ripped apart
Thus, shattering his heart.
Life can be mystical,
His image had been lyrical,
Successful in each pace,
Unique and ace,
It fell right in place.
Lyrical James,
Typical James,
Those devious games,
Left him displaced,
He felt so misplaced,
Far below grime,
He'd wished for a swing in time,
Where he'll be strong again,
When his merited cause was tall and plain,
Those lost days, he aches to regain.
Lyrical James,
Elegiacal James,
Again he sees her from a distance
He blew for a glance,
All he got was bounce,
Plus meaningful pounce,
Those festal days are long gone,
He was now all alone.
Lyrical James
Mystical James,
He follows the box,
From sunrise 'til sunset,
Again he sees her smile,
So near, yet an unreachable mile,
Success she possesses
Enrichment she precedes,
His lyrical companion,
Now stands as a champion,
Thus deadly like a scorpion,
The dominion of the Eves,
Em devilish mimics angels, thieves…..
Lyrical James,
Beloved James,
The years whisk by,
His valiant bravery,
Now rested in a grave,
'Til sleep, he loved.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
Just blinks of the universe on the skin of a pale blue dot
hovering at the edge of a swirling miasma of a myriad stars
We search for our place; let down by our lack of role in the grand scheme of existence
But only because we value ourselves too highly.
There is a beauty in the void; a renewal of spirit in acknowledging that we are not bound to a fate,
that we can go in any direction- that we may live our lives
without them simply being a test. There is no plan.
But who wants to live a planned life?
We search for the meaning that is not there to console ourselves in the cold reaches of the universe.
We find nothing- nothing but our own desperation.
We exist. Nothing more, nothing less than simple existence for us to interpret as we will.
That’s enough for me.
With this in mind, our lives- while still just phantasms fading from the skin of a pale blue dot
hovering at the edge of a swirling miasma of a myriad stars, gone before the universe’s eternity even begins to tick- have a purpose.
No longer are we bound to an eternity based on a mere shadow of a life, but now we can live! We can be free!
Our lives are ours to make what we will. To discover, explore, learn, to savour, to love… to leave the world better than we entered it, yet we do it not to please the cosmos but for our own enrichment. This is the significance of our lives.
Carpe diem, sieze the day: because it is one of the approximately 29 219 your being will ever have. Our minds are but the transient states of the universe, convening for a brief touch before going their separate ways- use that moment. It is all you are.
Let’s be reckless, do amazing and stupid things together for the brief cosmological second we share. Life flashes away as the universe’s heart mechanically beats.
Life is fleeting, we are sad, but there is nothing more than life- so let us live
Even though we are simply accidental spectres of thought on the skin of a pale blue dot
hovering at the edge of a swirling miasma of a myriad stars
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 11:19 AM UTC
The storms of life may never cease to blow in their unanticipated direction. However, you are able to withstand in the same manner as a Jacobean fortress which is not dissuaded by the extremity of Highland elements.
The color of your hair is a sure sign of wisdom, despite those self-doubts which are not uncommon to the sincerity of our humanity.
So, my fellow sojourner, in this perplexing yet beautiful pilgrimage: rest assured that the dark side of awareness can be applauded by our empathic insights, where those who are haunted by ghostly shadows can bask in the radiance of legitimate validations.
Therefore, I urge you to carry that blazing torch into seemingly unfathomable depths of human experience, and to illuminate those treacherous paths of uncertainty with the confidence of ontology.
There is no price upon that which you can impart. Therefore, humbly acknowledge the taste of apple pie, and display your bountiful banquet before those who are emaciated.
The universe requires your personal enrichment.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Ordinary day, lonesome happening
Quiet as can be, here I sit
In this uneasy office chair, daydreaming
Of what can be, pretending to be
What all I really am, Imagination set aside
Desire catches my eye, Endearment blessing me
On terms anyone could really conceive
What is in a thought, a process which can be deepened
A simple second can change anyone’s life
Whether it be for the better or the worst
Life is what we make of it, use of the proper tool
A lesson to be taught or learnt
Determination of one pure decision
Decisive declaration over biorhythms of allotment
Chronologically prepared to make right
Stepping one foot in front of the other
Tend the watchful eye as it shows you
A golden path through the toughest resolution
Building brick by brick along pastures of purview
Now come to your senses, strike a pose
Propound on this glorious insight
A betterment for which you will carry on forth
Entering the approachable endeavor of life’s greatest mystery
Setting sight upon goals to live by
Be free to understand the lesser of evils
As your mind yearns for enrichment
That of which comes from the power of virtue
Apr 6, 2010
Apr 6, 2010 at 11:25 AM UTC
*etymology extract: as was said, they'd read my poetry
on the front, among the billions, a few might tread,
from everyday Monday through to Sabbath,
thus said, archaeologically bound: Egypt, Josephus,
the nativity play, xylophone, and too much
indoctrination acquired to walk like a peacock,
and indeed more strut likening to a crow;
for indeed the waterfall of skulls, the dead sea
which reaches depths higher than peaks of architectural
adventure in man levelling mountains,
exploring sea depths and excavating depths
of the prized orbits: such restlessness never once
but countless times before; so soon forgotten
among the revision of partitioning, that nearer
Israel's resurrection on a foreign continent
than a neighbour's resurrected breath on the continent
concerned... leave unto Persia that book,
and unto Africa the judgement over Egypt...
but so your toying in global affairs is gluttonous in
sugars of hoped for sweeteners in applicability,
paying remnants of the economic enrichment i too remember,
20 to a room... 20 to a room... with baked beans soup
and white bread to send breadcrumbs home...
oh but my scottish compatriots haven't felt the full
**** of immigration, they haven't!*
why not talk of Kazimierz Prószyński
like you do concerning Auguste and Louis Lumière?
oh, i get it, ******* in the hood...
Europe is really foreign accepting the existence
of the once famed commonwealth,
as the present time, with the resurgence of
Israel, which can't be split equally, fathered
and equally brothered among the constituents
from the Baltic to the Black Sea...
from the median to the red...
best keep the sea lions bopping along with dear tourism
in the over-salted sea,
should the dead sea attract more sacrifice than the
touristy hill outside Jerusalem.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
*As the sun blaze afloat,
She had accepted its heat, though not seeing the light,
While others had burned bright with the light,
She had perceived only the dark,
Even with her everyday quest,
Her memoir of struggling conquest,
She had conceived only the darkness
Though with her increased of enrichment
She had felt bewildered in all this blanket of nights,
Oh, she'd pray for a rest,
A port written of bless,
But as Daniel, they've withhold,
Her likes, they cry under the greed,
Option less, but the wait or the creed,
The choice to live according to decreed,
Or bend to their marks of greed,
But for her tis a no,
They ought to know,
Fate gonna reach their doors,
The happiness of the dew,
Had been known only to the few,
Enough! is enough
But remembered clockwise,
It said let there be light,
And there was a light for all,
Hers is just a nightfall,
Soon! The sun gonna greet her good morning,
And the moon will bid you good night,
So keep sermonizing the lies,
Be the greed with the dice,
Or the person you so portrayed,
She pray mercy upon your soul,
To gain a world and loose a soul,
Oh, she'd laughed you poor,
For not all road leads to happy endings,
Some lead to a dead end.*
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
Looking at, her in abeyance my mind lie
With eyes taking over
Dulcet are her pulses;
Endearing is her mode,
A splendor so divine
Looting people out of their mind
Like trees, her hair danced in high wind and rain
And I, dancing around like a peacock;
Trying to melt her marble heart
Pondering of praises to say,
Hoping with one of them she might stay.
Hard to fathom the enrichment caused by her find,
She is a timeless beauty not the banal kind.
In bruit she is, possessor of her own surreptitious style
Tricking people with her friendly smile.
but her lure “the chains I wear” are rust away in time
I am unbounding with time.
I Wondering could i just let it be,
could this phase ever pass me.
But then one by one they all go by
First the voice, then the smell & then forgotten by the eyes
And at last comes a sigh...oh I tried …oh I tried .oh I tried
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
Within The Heart Of The Rose
The blush enfolds the richest glosamor at the tip of your fingers that’s where the wonder lingers but
thats just the outward adorning go within to depths go beyound the veil you have ventured into nature’s
sacred dwelling cool night mysteries rest until the suns warmth leaves a fragrant excited exposoion that
ever so gently wafs into the consiscus vessitudes that draw a myrid reponses the creeking tree over the
vale this loving tale decribes its host ultimate tender nature so fragil a degign with pedels that there
greatest strength seems to be in the pixel colors they produce tilted forever in spectaculars arraying the
gradual play of light ever so softly engages delightful excitement would I speak of love then I must call
your name nothinng else is so fitting spill forth emotional waves they trully never languish they would
only slightly touch the water suface then from this enrichment go forth speaking all that lovers
demand and long for it trully resides in the heart of a Rose
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 2:11 PM UTC
Should I have realized
All that, looming over your head
Leaving a bright, luminous trail of enrichment
Skewered at the end of the longest famine in history,
(Everything dies and somehow
Never stops taking away your deaths)
And endless depths,
Was never mentioned in the volumes
Of the black books
Stored on the shelves
Of the libraries of Hell?
Should I have realized
That the flood and all its filth
The crumbled bodies and crumbled souls
Were kneeling at the doorstep
Of everybody's waking eyes
And everybody's closing minds
And the entrance to your world?
Should I have realized
That all these angels,
All these demons
These tangled webs
These newfound freedoms
All living seperate lives outside your reality
Were all essentially and undeniably
Cleared of all charges and metaphysical transgressions?
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 10:10 AM UTC
Portents
Just a stamp an impression briefly emboldened formed in darker green you are but the portal of dreams
Telling my heart of those things that can and should be the burgeoning of vast meaningful wonders that
Shimmer long ago they were told in storybooks now they are fused as electrical force burning singing
The mind allegory befits you with your stage here you are the perpetual page desire strikes stone the
Emerging statue reaches untold depths reveals sacred expression the many sides of you that are the
Yearnings of dreams that seek total enrichment against the back drop of insidious want and lack a smile
That creates worlds with borders do not the trees bow to such glory that your eyes alone hold every
Man holds these immortal conceptions gem studded treasures nothing has this form can anything be
Captured given life that possesses the very essence of laughter the flow of life bursting the enthralling
Wisp that from silence forges lives with volumes’ language a bell tolls with no sweeter sound it is love
Beheld and known from the poverty of human life riches explode within common steps divine rewards
Beckon from every pore we look and see the self centered interest that disdains all things when at arms
Length only through imagination can you delve into the reality of your world a beggar truly is a king
With all that lies before him and if so then common man is a participant of God if only we could reach
Out and unfurl the gold instead of a simple down trodden prisoner we would be deliriously happy if we
Could only see the true and indescribable carpet that flows ever so wide in each of our lives it is only the
Foretelling of even a greater and more noble future that awaits
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 3:04 AM UTC
There is a face which is hidden
Always with a bad idea in mind
A wicked witch is alive in there
Active enrichment in its
bold anger color
Loads of cruelty
Wants to live in the blind darkness with
strong harshness
In every person called
the Monster!!
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
After my plan ended
I turned to seriousness,
like an uncluttered aficionado
I persisted with slide film,
treating them as an unfurnished enrichment,
for although not mounted
their sleeves were of equal impression
that captured the many verdant gardens visited,
holding them to a light box;
torn between being an Artist and a collector,
a feeling seemed to be conjured,
like a tentative transition
my heart wanted change,
tall shadows of people
cast contra jour,
a new benchmark for Autumns
dry like thatch.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC