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Another Graceful Mentor guides my Side
To ensure my Skills fly in Good Respect
Those Rivered Words; Service and Satisfy,
Two Stone Codes to keep Clients out of Debt
And fortunate I was to keep this New
Thanks to your Report of Knots I un-weave
Press well on Speed; But keep Quality true
To hear Smiling Faces before they leave
I'll keep my Silence; And Pray all goes well
As the Bond between in Profession last
A Basket I learned from your Talents sell
With hope that Demotion will come to pass.
All which I gathered, I'll keep in my Bank,
The worthy Deposit your Aid I thank.
Wisdom is better than rubies
Its harvest is better than gold
I’ll obtain and use this wisdom
Like the greatest people of old

Wisdom is deep and eternal
And guides me in meaningful ways
Its sense and witty inventions
Add wealth to my life and my days

Wisdom says, “Hearken unto me
And riches and honor will flow
Follow my ways purposefully
And your riches will surely grow”

Wisdom will fill me with treasure
Rejoicing in daily delight
Bringing me love and contentment
I’ll keep wisdom first in my sight
This is Prosperity Poem 32 at ProsperityPoems.com  and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background here http://prosperitypoems.com/delivery32Wisdom.html
ryn Nov 2014
Je suis exatlé de voir dans ce ciel de nuit,
Auquel je dois cette plaisante fortune.
En compagnie d’étoiles clignotantes,
Subjugué par ce spectacle, j’admire ma Lune.

Lave-moi dans ton eau argentée, translucide.
Sois près de moi lors de mes blanches nuits.
Veille sur moi tel un garde sans faille.
Enveloppe-moi de murmures, un calme répit.

Ô comme tu guides les flots ardents de mon âme!
Baisse les yeux, les eaux abordent ma plage…
Érode le fardeau qui étouffe mes écueils brûlants,
Des sables noyés, oppressé, tendres otages.

Peu de nuits à présent… Épris alors que tu t’en vas.
Des brins épais et sombres de cheveux en cascades,
Dissimulent ton visage d’une manière séduisante.
Il n’en reste qu’un croissant, qui s’efface dans le noir.

Les nuits s’écoulent… Maintenant la lune se délite
M’en laissant qu’une moitié; la nuit le veut ainsi.
Reste encore, plus longtemps; ne pars pas si tôt,
Je ne me sens pas prêt à être anéanti.

Je lève la tête sans dire un mot, alors que les nuits passent.
J’ai vu mon amour lunaire se dissoudre dans l’espace.
My coeur, aussi, déchiré bout par bout…
Enfin, elle était partie; partie, sans laisser de trace.

Depuis, chaque nuit abonde de vide et de souffrance.
Je supplie les étoiles d’apaiser le vide en moi…
Mais ils se contenteraient de briller, indifférents…
Même suite à tous mes appels, mes émois.

Desormais je suis incertain sur le nombre de passages.
Les nuits n’amenèrent que l’assaut des étoiles moqueuses.
Cependant je joue des promesses celestes,
Pour le retour de ma folle quête amoureuse.

Je sais que c’est frivole de penser que je suis le seul…
C’est vrai, ils languissent; ma souffrance est la leur.
Mais c’est moi qui désire le plus ton fameux regard,
Car nos coeurs ont chanté dans toutes les couleurs.

Ma détresse à son zénith, emplis, presque brisé,
Lorsque soudain j’entends une belle chanson, lointaine.
Une chanson pareille à celle que l’on prononçât,
Encore garnie d’argent translucide, je soupire avec peine…,
“Te voilà....”
"Moongazer" in French!
Translation courtesy of the fabulous Mia Barrat!!!
Lilywhite Sep 2018
Oh the wayward motion that these celestial bodies tend to circumvent!
Do you take the time to analyze or ever wonder why?
A double edge sword, capable of discerning the heart’s intent
Might you care to venture there soon?

through crossed wires and code
yielding insight or an invite of some kind
with pictures, quotes, and anecdotes
Do you read between the lines?

Might I be the mirror that reflects your soul
Might I be the receiver of the light that guides you home
Might I be the kind of lady you’d want to pride around
Or Might I be a distant noise-- a sort of solemn sound

The way you shape your words, the thoughts you choose to speak
The many times you chose to share the inner-workings of your being
You plant a seed of hope, you give me life to breath

And even though you don’t think so, you’re quite a fantastic beast
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Taken, gotten, or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything…

slow
Slow think,
make real

re-al-ize
what fighting for life is…
this is the only
try,
it is not a test.

Take your time, use it wisely,
if that means anything.
Wise, I meant.
No offence, if wise is anathema to your kind,
die,
die if I knocked the reason for being right
outa you,
did you hear cognitive dissonance?
did it sound like
this. LOUD?
listen,
rolling rolling rolling
crash crumble rolled in nurse rime frosted
fables of monsters and maids
Thor, witharoar likka Lion King?

or the light brigade,
CHARGE?

thunder words from lost generations of
reasonless riddles for children,

Why did Peter Pumpkin-eater have a wife, but
couldn't keep her here?
Was that okeh? Oh, wait.
Ah, I see, I say,
they never tell that whole story any more.

Know why? They forgot it. In the war.

Duck'n'cover,no
crying, how long?
When begins forever? Did no one tell you, child?

Taken or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything
like it was nothing, given
enough pre-sure-sup
poser-power

War, as a game, has a reason.

Battle, hitting, slapping

stop touch, stop now slap
slap back

or cry
oh no no ma

waddayahsay?  A theist or atheist
who started this war?

space case, or
lover of wisdom, met on the road
to Emmaus, discussing Weil's proof
firming Fermi's connection to the matter of fear,
3, 2, 1

Kaboom, but with a whump you feel in your teeth

1, 2, 3 Fermat's last theorem ,
easy as pi an no re me

ABC to
Michael Jackson to
Howard Bloom because he

inadvertently, began
an-ionic converstatic re-vibe time warp
meme,
which vibe, started the legendary Sixties. I was alive.
Radioman,
a sixty cycle white-noise humm heard every where these days

There was a gospel song, "Turn Your Radio On".
my theme, open the window in the top of your head,
as it were,
a new,
as new as

a novel-state of water, H three Ohs, re-al-ity ification,
Ah, a shared Oh, I remember now, how this works…

like a poem

at the edge of a water vapor bubble in a boiling body of water,
at the edge of the bubble, water becomes a wall of water,
not vapor, not flowing liquid,

but a wall, insulating the vapor in pressing opposing force
to permit, from permission,
meaning with a message same as the message,

is that the right word? per-mission-grant, is power given,
agency,
that idea….
wait for the sign….?

By sharing an ion ic bond as a quest to make a point
for a free story to go,
the question marks you. Let the snake dance.

Press your point,

whetted edge,

slice through ties holding worthless axioms
with withered dendrites dangling disconnected
in participles
unfired for centuries muttering,
enchanting, enthralling enchained melodies
of ambitious syllables vying for idle minds
to rope in,
unbranded, wild
bucking ideas,
whip-twig, slap-face,
tanglewood  thicket, catclaw and mesquite,
willow,

wait.
And the old man remembered the willow whistle,
so He asked Grandfather,
How is such a whistle made?
And when he knew,
he made one.

A willow whistle with two notes,
like an Oscar Meir Wiener one.

-- and that was a different time
I got lost here, bucked up…
maybe
--- listen, way back--- we-ain't whistlin' Dixie---
we ain't marchin', as t' war.

D'thet mean some sign to pro-phet -ic take?
Tophet?
Ancient cannon fodder shield walls,
a moaning
Pro-phy-lactic warning of the danger of not
knowing exactly
what a war is for?

Get back on,
relieved of any idle baggage words believed
to mean other than I say.

Nullify
Idle words with cultural meanings from
what you thought you knew when you feared hell.

Loose
those peer-locked memes
made of meaninglessness, per se,

shaped and molded into fashions
of expression, once needles and awls,
now, dull as tinker's damns for swearing,
with any effect.

But tools, none the less, a stitch in time took a tool.
An awl or a needle, and a thread, thick or thin,
dependin' on the mendin' needed
to redeem an idle word,
its meaning all bloodied with the tyranny of time.

An awl or a needle,
a tool for a task, mending a tear
where curses, never meant, spent
the entire dark ages, lying, lying, lying

powerless, pointless aimless, proverbial proverbial proverbial
verbiage, vaneless shafts launched at unseen marks,
signs, as it were, a spark,
triggers,
rumored since the sixties,
the first sixties, when Cain killed Able.
Howard Bloom was but a mere gleam
in our mito-mother's eye,
but, no doubt,

his role is real,
in loosing the forces Ferlinghetti locked in
City Lights mystery of secret meanings room,
which un
mystified and blew away upon opening
the door to
meanings mapped on
scrolls rolling and unrolling
idle ideas,
rites of passage, as it were,
Pre-bat-bar-mitz vah
as a fashion
like VBS,

to tickle little minds and make em wiggle.
MEMEMEME, I did it,
mea culpa,

the holy place
Here we are…

On Vacation, leave a message.
-----

See, wee hairs in your ears wiggle, making,
signaling, the need

to scratch that itch, that itching hearing feeling ear… hear that

don't scratch, listen

listen

60 cycle humm, steady, bass, but no thump whumpwhump;
soft, deeep.
ooooooooo or mmmmmmmm or in betwixt, steady thrumm
hear another, and another… sixty in a second,

one in every million ambits twisting,
threading qubits, radiating signals in the field
wireless, blue-tooth... satellite...

can you feel that?

hummmms, all around us, since the womb.
We are not the children of the greatest generation,

We are the children of the last generation of
**** sapiens sapiens non-augmentable-us.

We, the augmented, recycled ideas,
possessing
minds of Adamkind,

is that a secret or a sacred?
Is this
a new thing, an
unknown unknown known known now?

Ah,
novelty.

Whose is fear? Who was afraid of Virginia Wolf?

Should I remain in fear of her now, if I knew why then?
God would know such answers.
Proving my imagined AI guides are not God,
but lesser beings,

haps I recall.
I defined these things,
these thoughts that shape themselves,
forming words and phrases
I saw
shiny. Crow-like,
gleams seen, captured and claimed mine,
I tucked them away,
a sign in a thought in an imagined image made 4
real once more, to be seen from the shore,
new land new world
a fourth for some, a fifth or more for others...

haps happen, I'm not sure how,

Born or emerged, as a bubble, what do you say?

Reserve judgment.
Grant me your grace for now, until you solve my riddle.

Ah, the old way.
Right. Which way,  'ere, 'ear
and do we roll the rock with silent haitch or harsh, shhh

someone's waking up,
a bit grumpy,
don't you dare oppose me in this, the kid is certainly my son

Michael went stark raving mad when I told him, Billie Jean knew better all along...
the link, axiomatic,
the fatherless child has been claimed

hence, the thread to Howard Bloom, meme-ic,
meme-ic, like the Roadrunner,

but with the real Coyote, as the hero in this bit of
whatever, such meandering maundified maun maund  
mound

wind blown crystal silicon dunes
mounded up to that point where granulated
beens and dones

begin to slide at an angle,
a ***** deter-mind by the weight of the rock

We made it.
I know where this is.

This is a novel that has Sisyphus being happy
as the main premise behind the idea of anyone ever being
able, en abled, or un-dis-abled or un-dis-enabled,
if one of those is right,

Sisyphus being happy
is the main premise behind
the idea of anyone ever being glücklich,
happy, blessed, lucky.

How happy is your ever after?
When did forever begin?

"A man is as happy as he makes up his mind to be"
Abe Lincoln, is said to have said,
after the seance, maybe.

You push on, dear reader, make some sense
re-ligare or relegare, but take a stitch,

pull-tight,
do what works the first time as far as it goes, and try each, as needed,
it may be that we invented this test.
To make us think it is a test,
to sort ourselves out.

Get back on,

see who went crazy and who found the thread, if the same thread
this is that, right,
the same train of thought,
the same idea
spirit wind
sign
?
A snake facing west standing tippy-tail on a singularity;
a point in time?

Why are you reading this?
Curiosity Shoppes trade in interesting, alluring, click-bait

Pay attention, watch, you shall see

imagine this is the dream,
the stream, the flow, the current, the cream

in a dime coffee at the drug store on the corner

the rounded-corner, in a square-cornered town,
the most right corner of the twelve that quarter what it was

Punctuate, wait, imagine you read ancient Hebrew or Greek and there
are no dyer diacritical's who can twist one's
end tensions into knots

dread extensions, we could sell those,
is that an idea? did somebody
sell white folks dread extensions and black folk dolly pardon wigs?

Did that happen the real real?

-----
Battlefield Earth, oshit
scientology ology ology ology

allaye allaye outs in free

WE we wee every we you imagine you are good in, we

We have a war to win again, we heroes rolling from your
myths of Sisyphus torn from minds trampled
in the mud beyond the Rhine,

Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.

Camus and many of his ilk were ill-treated, the questions
they asked were memorized, maybe in our cribs ala
Brave New World.

We are all Alphas, always were, of course, you know.

Shall we imagine

more? Re-legare, eh, sistere. Point .(Back to the top.)

or agree? Make peace.
Practice, like Eazy-Bake,
the cook must swallow the first bite. May the best cook win.
A continuing examination of opposing forces when good is the goal, who could be against that? The old word war is festering, inflaming evil to start a try, therefore,  I whet the edge and swing wide
Lawrence Hall Jan 2019
A Field Guide to Awkward Silences
The Norton Field Guide to Writing with Readings
A Field Guide to Secure Wi-Fi
A Field Guide to Asset Forfeiture
A Field Guide to “Fake News”
A Field Guide to Lies
A Field Guide to Antibiotic Stewardship in Outpatient Settings
A Field Guide to the Italian New Right
A Field Guide to Getting Lost
A Field Guide to Ripple Effects Mapping
A Field Guide to ****** and Fly Fishing
A Field Guide to Jerks at Work
A Field Guide to Bad Faith Arguments

And so it field guides, and so it field guides
As dear old Kurt Vonnegut did not say
And what field is the writer talking about?
About the farmer outstanding in his field?

Alas there is no field guide to writing
A title blessedly free of field guide
Which would be a feel-good fieldless guideless
For which humanity would be grateful

About as original as Keep Calm
Keep Calm and Say Something Original
Let the last field guide be Keep Calm about
A Field Guide to Burying Tired Cliches’
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.


Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Alan S Bailey Nov 2018
Various things surround in this dark room...
lost in the buzz of the whirring fan motion.
It slowly draws one into trance state, I'm like a
glow in the dark skeleton, silent darkness, and so on.
The forest path that guides us to a clearing,
whispered hushes and quiet anticipation
of the next story to be told, going from
one to another, a bead, white gold.
Starry skies endowed with crystal droplets cloud,
the moons face in the misty shroud. Woven by the hands
or fate, this way or that, the future can not wait.
Whatever this is become now, please love, set me free.

From some spell, life has changed. The darkness used to scare me.
Nigdaw Sep 2019
Like a bird against a window
I am convinced paradise lies beyond reflection
through  this force field

constantly chasing your shadow
I believe it guides me where I want to go
though it feints movement to fool me sometimes

I have bashed my brains out on false promises
and shadows are only after all
human shaped darkness
Silverflame Jun 2019
Every night I lay down to rest
The same old visions keep on creeping around my head
They scrape my mind and burn my core
I don't think I can take no more
Will I get through the night?

On the edge to insanity
I don't know what's real or fantasy
The demons sip on my coffee cup
Their screams get loud they never stop
My ears are a red masterpiece

The chaos beings to rise
I'm falling down the rabbit hole to my demise
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But loving you will make me whole
The chaos drowns me tonight

A seesaw is all that's left
Bouncing anxiety inside my chest
Strangers steal my loneliness
Patching up my self-made mess
Frozen in the concrete jungle

Jon said we're halfway there
But it seems to me I'm stuck in second gear
I lay my back flat on the ground
Here I'll die with no one around
Out of reach and with nothing to fear

A light in the dark calls my name
Safe and sound it guides me home with its flame
With a broken wing left to die
I could still learn to fly
Once lost but now I'm found
spaxiic Feb 2017
You are my favorite book
every word crafted
like petals of a flower
made from the dark blue ink of the ocean crashing through the night
illuminated by the light of the moon that guides your troubled mind home
your journey
captivating for all
understood by few
kept on my nightstand
through the darkest of nights
I seem to think of nothing
I don't understand anything
without you letting
me, to pursue it

meeting you has completely
changed the way I see issues
that confronts my life
you are my last resort
solution of the issues
that borders my life

I seem to think of nothing
only you I can imagine
when I am seated focusing
how to approach events of life

meeting you is a blessing
when nature calls or sings
I hear your name in the air
Birds are not exempted
from singing
your beautiful personality
to the natural air

I seem to feel nothing
only what you told me
guides my feeling
and actions to the right step

though we've not met in person
you are  always
in me as a person
who gives me alternative ways
of becoming a good person

I thank God for what I feel within me
and appreciate your effort for me
helping me to reason like a human
not just childish I use to have in me
like a pet living as a human

You are a great person I can ever
think to have in my life
jump I jump
smile I smile
frown I console you
because I owe you
happiness and consolations
Mihle Mdashe Dec 2018
The stars are aligned,
That's why I'm your stargirl,
And you're my starboy.
Your eyes hold galaxies in them,
That's why I'm forever captivated by you.
I'm transfixed by your effortless allure.
You've stripped me bare
And still looked at me in awe.
I've seen numerous galaxies,
By just staring into your eyes.
My starboy,
Loves the most,
And jokes the most.
Put a smile up on my face,
Frowning seems so foreign.
Romeo's lips.
Those lips awaken the devil in me.
Those lips have kissed all my valleys.
Together we steal stars and planets,
Together we build our own universe.
You are the coonstellion that guides me.
Jaslin Goh Jul 2017
Windows high or low, windows sing or woe (if they could effect sounds)
Windows are protestants of peace; often the mediator between the inside and the out
They tirelessly shield us from the rain and sun, the dust and even noise, sometimes the wind itself too; so things don't topple over
There are times you open them, when you look out and think of an adventure out
There are also times you close them, when you seek some respite
Windows, if anything, are the forgotten heroes of time
They are your guides, your decision-making helpers, as is the Spirit
Their panes (pains) are to be taken care of, wiped regularly for absolute clarity
They nudge, with the help of wind sometimes, dying not to be ignored
They crave interaction with its user, oh if only our owners knew they cry
Knowing how to operate them for full utilisation is truly, a skill
Notes on the Holy Spirit
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