"honouring" poems
At least with Solemn Differences sing
Honouring Friends of Great Cheer celebrate
Your arm on her lap; The other on him
And with a Flash these Blue Knights consecrate
Jolly, so Potent turn Tan into Red
That pleasant alarm Blue Oracles see
And guess which Debate your Incarnate fed
Whether you are or whether not to be
Ready for Cause to the Next Big Event
Telling yourself to Inspiration run
Foresaw this Scope: Friendship and Teamwork's meant
But all of this time it was just for Fun.
Seriousness Adore, Someone licks the Tip
In your Patron; Which was really your lip.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:23 AM UTC
It took just a few Leaves for me to see
The Wondrous Promise this Scribbler can do
My Kababayan: This Deep Legacy,
Honouring our Flag with Pen and Ink-Blue
But my, dear M'am! Such very Spicy Words,
Great enough to keep my Eyes glued to Browse
And Characters - Freaks Alive! Well that curds
Such Vain Trumpets most of Us do Live out
Now the Bubble breaks; And the West will know
That even from the Pearl, English is You
My Box-of-Thanks, sealed and delivered with Bow
Springs the Jack in Celebration of Youth.
My only Concern, I should have bought One
Let me end my Shift; And my Suweldo come.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:34 AM UTC
There is a Year part from which is assigned
Asides from your Truce to cover and rest
Till then, your Crafted Show to Fame consigned
My Girl's Centenniary will look its Best
This I Pledge, by the added Fifty-Four,
Honouring the Godfather I borrowed
If still, no Sound, least Assignment for more
Shall I conclude all my Efforts sorrowed
By then, to see and calculate for once
Despite I embrace this Familiar Ghost
This Truth - to Drill my steeling nerves upon
And cross-hair your Freedom which mattered most.
By that time, I should look for Someone else
Though in my Conscience I cast the same Spell.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
Let not rage relieve peace off her duty
That is the mood of a woman when another takes away her beauty
For what is left a shine on the face of iron when it gets rusty
So don't see someone's honouring event as your party
Don't especially with impunity
That's no pay for a person's ingenuity
It's evil coveting someone else's ideas your property
Plagiarism destroys creativity
It is honour stripping activity
Dip your mind into the well of creation and draw out the complexity
Then understand how it is to create
And appreciate how plagiarism makes creativity emaciate
Like a mother hurts when her child is in pain
A creator feels when his efforts are being rendered a vain
Credit he who credit is due
And earn honour for your own efforts too
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 6:18 AM UTC
A moment in time and space where two people are connected in a sacred way
Honouring each other
Listening to each other
Feeling what the other person is feeling
Eye contact
A non-verbal permission that lets the other person know that they are welcomed into ones world
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
Down stucco sidestreets,
Where light is pewter
And afternoon mist
Brings lights on in shops
Above race-guides and rosaries,
A funeral passes.
The hearse is ahead,
But after there follows
A troop of streetwalkers
In wide flowered hats,
Leg-of-mutton sleeves,
And ankle-length dresses.
There is an air of great friendliness,
As if they were honouring
One they were fond of;
Some caper a few steps,
Skirts held skilfully
(Someone claps time),
And of great sadness also.
As they wend away
A voice is heard singing
Of Kitty, or Katy,
As if the name meant once
All love, all beauty.
2.4k
Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent
For compound sweet forgoing simple savour,
Pitiful thrivers in their gazing spent?
No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
Which is not mixed with seconds, knows no art
But mutual render, only me for thee.
Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul
When most impeached stands least in thy control.
2.2k
I don't believe in god
but I know you do
and I find myself afraid
that my love is not enough for you
And so I pray again tonight
to a force I cannot see
to a deity I do not feel
from a faith that's not in me
For truth is true to each and every one of us unique
And I'll lie to me a truth to you
if it can grant you peace
For I love you more than my pride
more than honouring my view
I'll help you walk toward pearly gates
Though I can't go in with you
I'll stand beside you every step
If you'll have me on your way
To a heaven known by one of us
Until my dying day
For my views my truths my foolish pride
They aren't worth losing you
For the pain I'd feel to lose my heart
Is what I hold most true
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
Perusing poet’s pandemic prose
A question in my mind arose
Angst aside what have they got
Ill tell you friend
It’s not a lot
Excuses for the lives they lead
Plant the idea
Nurture the seed
Willing victims succumb to their charm
Understandingly
Unerringly
Blind to the harm
The harm of a contrived reality
Dressed up as spirituality
Pretence of a world that doesn’t exist
Sensibility shrouded in gullible mist
Hurt worn as a badge of pride
Careful it’s not misapplied
Lest they see your
Jekyll and Hyde
Wary what’s put out in rhyme
Slowly ******* you in
One at a time
Once the carrot is gobbled up
Once they drunkest from the cup
No holds barred
The game is on
Universally singing the same old song
This life I lead has ****** me dry
Left me often wondering why
Life lived only on the edge
Carefully honouring the kudos pledge
Passion intense is
Their line of defence
Bruised and battered
Tattered and torn
Eternally waiting for life to return
So…Readers beware of the poets lure
Their chosen words are not the cure
This Forum is their new aged lair
In shadows waiting to ensnare
Whilst drowning in narcissistic despair
You’re a fragile soul
With a fragile life
And they will wield their pen
Like a well butchered knife
So please… do not believe that you are The One
You are merely a chapter in a story that’s already begun
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:06 AM UTC
let’s pretend that our ancestors danced in forests and ate flowers
so that we can do the same, without feeling embarrassed,
because, really, we’re just honouring our forebears, their tradition.
Feb 11, 2021
Feb 11, 2021 at 10:02 AM UTC
FIRST ONES
She sits by the fire and stirs her ***
the day has been a long one and tonight's new moon means no sleep tonight
for there are times right for harvest and can be done no other time
The folks of the village depend on her art for to bring new life
and easing the pain of the living as well as honouring the dead
There is no Rede or three by three here
no shiny wands or talismans
she is elder here and thus respected perhaps feared
but she lives her life alone
She was the beginning
a first footer here
seeking only to serve
little profit is found outside of the town
What would she thinks of our books and our Rede
She who never learned to read
Was She more or less then I?
Did She seek to lead?
Would she smile at our toys our trinkets and beads
or shake her head and turn to leave
I wonder what the First Ones would see looking now at me and thee
Solita - 2007
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 5:31 PM UTC
*Yellow with white butterflies
Fluttering over the flowers
Big bee comes flirting with a buzz
Amidst my conversation with
Rose, the flower queen
Giggling of her friends being a response
Red whiskered bulbul sings vociferously
Please to meet you in our kingdom
Never beautiful but humble the black crow
Bringing some fruits honouring her guest
Wishing me hi from aloft the Sun
A pleasant morning with nature
Made my day a beautiful creation*
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
I wish, I could just fade, into nothingness.
Not to die, not to be aware of the end, but just to fade
and become merged with the rest of the universe.
My consciousness
part of the never-ending energy.
Then, I would not witness any more suffering,
or tragedy.
I would not be concerned with human ideas of war
and ideals,
for which countries and nations are torn,
for which the cycle of death renews.
It’s no news
that each, every so often
new powers rise and the old is forgotten.
I wish, I could just go far, far away.
Leave this Earth and all its destruction,
journey to a place with no caged birds, and caged people.
I don’t want to stay
amongst the ones who are caged inside their minds
thinking they own the world
and all beyond it,
when, in fact, the only thing they own is the production
of hate.
And evil deeds could write themselves one by one
onto their skin, showing the fate
of countless souls, like a tattoo
never to fade.
If only they would.
Maybe then, young citizens could
take some time to think about the rush
to honour the ‘duty to their country’.
Gun in hand, loyalty in the other,
all for honour.
Death is the greatest teacher, for in death we are all the same,
look it in the eyes, and your life will change.
If only it changed for the better
and not made the ground wetter
with blood of the ones honouring their leader,
when their leader does not honour them.
He lives on, while their lives
Are fading,
fading
away.
Jan 30, 2024
Jan 30, 2024 at 3:00 PM UTC
a steady calm, a deep knowing
unhurried, unworried
Soul growth is primary,
a journey, never stationary
independant, yet woven together
always honouring one another
Love does not boast or confine
if one must go, give them time
birds in the sky, snakes in the sand
they never worry about being fed
or by which Hand
God is all-knowing
though we are gifted with free will,
there is a plan for each life
woven together by His intricate skill
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
I find these days my head bows down,
Lost in trees which bear no roots around.
We all continue to strive for their peaks,
That we might find the validation we believe speaks.
Because in a forest of hard line and concrete,
We think all there is, is a standard to meet.
Our bodies are young, but our souls are so old,
And craving some place wild and bold;
Where the forest which hems is ancient with moss,
And the rivers carve streets no foot can cross.
Tall mountains send out the wake up call,
That every man and woman will fall.
At the end of the day, the wild remains,
And strives to survive through mans foolish claims.
Yet I am lost to the toil and to the strife,
Of simply trying to make it with my life.
But make it where? As what? And why?
Because I try to escape the fact that all will die?
No solace can be found in the wealth of a king,
But give me a glimpse of an eagle on wing,
Amongst valleys and coasts where few eyes see,
Where the snow melts and brings new life to be.
A morning crisp with dew, and a chorus of song,
Some place wild where our old souls belong.
So short-sighted, so corrupt and insincere,
We try and conquer all that we claim to hold dear.
Even though we are but fleeting on a beautiful plain,
We are determined to burn, to clear and contain.
What if we were to become who we could be,
Honouring and reverent of all that is unbound and free?
To feel insignificantly small again,
That is the amazing gift of summit and glen.
A simple reminder that we are all but participants,
Not gods, completely unaware of our littleness.
Sitting in awe of the symphony of life abounding,
Lost in our utterly magnificent surrounding.
So I choose to take to the trails, the ridges and paths,
Which lead to the furthest and cosiest hearths;
To meet other wandering souls who have left behind,
The confusion and delusion of a self-obsessed mind.
And be prepared to lose and find myself again,
Away, into a wild embrace, her rugged domain.
My soul cries for freedom, some vision to see,
New life bursting as a bud on every tree.
Swept up in the miracle of a tale much bigger,
Than the measurable wealth of my yearly figure.
For in the wild, can be found the perspective I need,
For my searching soul to truly be freed.
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 9:58 PM UTC
How might he sing of this Queen that he found
Of their trip through the stars
Of the sights and the sounds
The soft subtle glow from her sun-kissed skin
Her Magic and rhythm that oozed from within
Of Holding her close, getting lost in her eyes
The lattice of limbs, the world passing by
Much more to this union than physics and heat
Their mind-space meeting place first of all treats
Hard to face truths they would tackle as one
Before all that JuJu had even begun
There in those convos through hours unfolding
A Lucid flowetry & neither witholding
She opened her heart up revealing her past
Her Darkness and Strengths
A history so vast
The degree of compassion and comprehension
Served as a softener, negating all tension
And he, he felt worthy, enough for a tear
To receive all she was
Dark and Light
Love and Fear
Pickled perspectives through dilated seers
Dissolving of egos & bringing forth tears
Humbly he knelt, for in him she would trust
Honouring intention
And Self
Before lust
Digesting their truths on candle light beams
Backing track soundscapes of finish him themes
Magnetic her radiance, a colourwheel aura
Bodies' bouquet, scents sweeter than flora
Skin to skin textures their grip free to roam
Tastes of pure Stardust
Her flavour was... Home
A moment removed from time's ceaseless pace
Light breaking birdsong, Love dripped from her face
The world switched on and began it's routine
While Awestruck he witnessed this manifest dream
Cat cursed yet tireless he played to her choir
Their Synchronous vibrations raised forever higher
There's never before been, nor again will there be
A woman of resonance as Perfect as she
Subjectively perfect, Ubiquitous truth
Yet how we see perfect requires no proof
All of his senses Peaked & Saturated
All his Desires
In this Queen concentrated
Once in a lifetime the lucky may find
A someone of substance who stimulates the mind
Once in a lifetime the lucky may be
With One who cultivates a compatible energy
Once in a lifetime the lucky may hold
The attention and Love of their true Twin Soul
But the idea that One girl could be all this and more
A concept so enticing he just can't ignore
The poetry of Presence
The Nourishment of Osmosis
The Freedom of the Eternal Now
She's Imperfectly Perfect
She's Perfectly Imperfect
His Queen Supreme
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC
I walk around this house
with its half rebuilt body
and battered soul,
calling it my home.
Can't quite tell
what it's hiding,
If you don't look carefully.
but if you do
you might feel
resilience and fortitude
coursing through its bones,
entering through its broken
magic door.
12 long years now
since that act of
divine madness,
staged within these walls,
changed
Everything.
- ~
You took your beautiful life,
on an otherwise ordinary
Saturday eve
while the summer sun
hung high
above the moody waters of the lake
and rays of light,
I imagine,
flickered through
the basement window
I was on the phone
with you..
not knowing
till later,
the immensity of what was created
in that moment.
the one that blew me apart forever,
the one that hurls me toward infinite still,
like a dying star seeking a galaxy.
You stayed with me
in silence
until death gently choked you,
then kissed your hands.
You stayed with me
until in lifelessness you dropped the phone,
privileging me with your last moment
honouring me with your last breath.
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
There was a girl
Quiet like anyone else
As a young child
Her eyes always wide open
In wonder
She was excited for everything
If a flower had grown
It was a miracle
If she discovered a caterpillar
She was as ecstatic
As someone who had found
The cure for cancer
But as she grew
She did not
Lose her sense of wonder
Her eyes remained wide open
To the world around her
While her peers
Complained and mocked
She would celebrate
Every little thing
Any achievement
Anyone made
If she saw an amazing sunset
She would gush about it
For days on end
If she found a bird
Broken
She would strive
To fix it
And if it couldn't be fixed
She would give it
A funeral honouring its life
Her classmates turned on her
And ridiculed her
For her sense of awe
And though it hurt her deeply
She did not change
She did not hate them
As she was left alone
She simply smiled at them
Whenever they walked by
She made it out of high school
With her determination to
See the amazing in everyone
Or thing
As her only companion
She became a well known
Artist
And people talked of her
With admiration
For the way she could capture any moment
And make others she the beauty
In it
The girl kept her wide eyes
And her sense of wonder
Until the day she died
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Her skin darkens as she salutes the sun,
staring soft from the yoga mat,
sunbeams cast motes of light
across the surface of the Alzou River.
The neighbours collect skulls of the
rabbits they have killed, turning them
to a fortune whilst honouring the dead.
She had forgotten what it meant
to fall into a silence,
to sit and read in an endless afternoon.
The cyclists roam in the crooked streets
of the cliff-side village, the Buddhists
are smoking **** in their hammocks.
She had faltered to a start,
falling into a corset,
to sit on him and kiss his calloused hands.
She had lost herself to advertisements
promoting freedom in a cinematic drawl;
time-lapse pictures and memories
of a summer spent landlocked in defeat.
She has fallen for her music.
To sit and listen to the drumbeat’s awful sin.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
The Ever first creature to walk his land
Single greatest being of His empire
And his mighty subjects bring tidings to him
Tidings of valiant rebellion against his dark brutality.
The General of His Forces, sent forth to sought out the traitor
Upon winged beast he rides through the barren wasteland
Ever watchful eye on the hunt for the rebel
And the sorry being was found, cowering ‘neath the rocks.
The Dark Master himself attended to
The sacrifice of the rebel-lord, and the corpse of his being
Left out in the open for the carrion-birds
The elegant remains of grisly justice.
And so it begins, the mysterious cycle
Of hatred and vengeance upon the kingdom.
The Dark One gracefully eliminating them,
They who try to question his terrible Power.
In the darkest hour, He attains the zenith of his ferocity
And in that hour, one arises against him, one he cannot destroy
One who defies everything He stands for, one who brings hope
That vile promise of a better world, now rampant in his rule.
He seeks to destroy this mortal, a weak and puny smite under his rule
But for reasons arcane and beyond His control
Try as He may, the ****** mortal lies beyond his savage grasp.
And so, He calls upon the Dark Gods of His sacrifice
To bestow upon Him the Might of the Feral.
His invocation rings repercussion through the desert
As they descend upon Him, honouring His ****** sacrifice
He lies broken upon the Altar of the Elders
His flesh torn from his being, in mockery of his offering.
They descend upon him, feeding off his Lifeforce
As they reduce their Mighty Disciple to skin and bone
He finally rests upon wet sands, His savagely torn torso
The terrible remains of the Last Boon of His Gods.
The irony hangs heavy in the air as
The One that brought about the end of the Mighty Emperor
Throws his Offering upon the Altar
Pledging eternal allegiance and servitude to the Dark Gods…
And so it begins again, the old arcane circle
Of jealousy, rebellion, ****** and power
And so it has been, and always shall be
As the Masters of Chaos decide our fate
And they laugh…
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
For the fallen
The world is such a tormented place,
Haunted by the insecurities of every race.
Obsessed with greed and absolute power,
The dictators rained on the weak,
With a gun filled shower.
Brave men were enlisted to bring peace to the land,
To help the weak be strong and to make a stand,
Women and children were left abandoned, alone,
While their men were out fighting protecting our home.
Families shattered by one single blast,
Congregating together in one single mass.
Weeping beside a freshly dug grave,
Lay a widow wishing that he had not been so brave.
We will remember him always for his courage and valour,
By honouring his name in silence upon the eleventh hour.
Rest in peace my friend we are forever in your debt,
We will pray for you all.... lest we forget.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
.
honest rawness stains the ****** white paper
heard in the silent pleas,
haunting words as they pursue,
hues vividly coloured portray,
hunted my dreams with possession,
honouring language and life punctuating,
haptic senses which enflame passions.
honed this soul, for me, i pen
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
If any good came from loving true
but falling short
its in this verse honouring You
Surrendered, taught
reaching up beyond my sighs
where truth is chiselled into sense
Can darkened shutters recompense?
Time and purse no longer vie
so uncontended now I’ve died
to selfish pride and suffered lies
alone
The harm I caused not loving true
the way one ought
is harmonised now, reflects You
fullfilled, sought
redeemed from the lie
Darkness to experience
Suffering wrought repentance
Crime and worse no longer imply
damning dirges inside
Our Lamb arose, 'It’s finished' His cry
'Atone!'
Sep 26, 2009
Sep 26, 2009 at 9:10 PM UTC
Relationships take dedication, dedication to honour the soul of the one you're with.
A dedication to consistently show up for one another, regardless of distance and time.
Especially when things get tough.
When you truly value the one you're with, you'll find time to be fluent in their love language, to understand it, and to give it freely with no want or expectation.
I'm not looking for a part-time fling, a night between the sheets, or a convenient ***** call.
I want to build something with someone who appreciates and truly sees the depth of who I am.
A lover who wears her heart on her sleeve, in spite her hurts, her betrayals, her let downs.
Because I choose myself when the world and people try to convince me otherwise.
I know the magic my love holds, so no, I don't just want to be a moment in your day, a fleeting thought, a good morning or good night text.
I want someone who chooses me regardless of the circumstance, who holds space for me to heal my wounds, who shows up for me by loving and honouring themselves first.
Someone who reciprocates what I bring to the table, a you water me, I water you kinda romance.
Abundance, communication, consistency, devotion, growth, respect, and emancipation from the barriers leading to the heart.
These are my non-negotiables.
So before you decide if you want a seat at this table, first ask yourself... Am I ready to feast?
Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 6:50 PM UTC
*Every night crawling
into bed beside you
Wrapping my arm around you
Drawing you closer
Into the perfect spoon
Our skin to skin one caress
Comforting one another as we fade into dream
every morning
Waking
before the alarm sounds
To the feel of your arm
Out-stretched & Searching
for me beside you
Finding me, finding you
the safety, the joy
The serenity of feeling Home
In our bubble
At the peak of the mushroom
free of anxiety, ego dissolved
A familiar peace abounds
Amid the chaos of the mind fray
Our souls dance
Together and free
Simultaneously lost and found
in your emerald gaze
Peering endlessly as
the periphery fades to blur
and all that exists is We
All is you and me
We are All
Feeling every molecule
of You
As we merge our physicality
The Gnosis in the mushroom
Illuminating the Archaic
Gnosis in our beings
Reigniting and fuelling our twin flame
the magnetic synergy of our Souls
Sharing time
Sharing space
In your intoxicating presence
In your nourishing embrace
Engaging in ceremony with you
Honouring spirit
Of the Earth, of ourselves
Casting intentions to the four winds
Through the cleansing of raging fire
Discovering the rhythm of personal expression
Under the full blood blue moon
Our spotlight on the stage of surrender
Hanging effortlessly in
the star-speckled Black of Night
Finding the circular beat
Of your two drum-heart-beats
Through the noise
of solo djembes on their own tangent
Desperate to find the momentum of song
Our trio in unison
Our drums in harmony and rhyme
Synchronised in time
A voiceless song of the divine
These and many more
moments you've given to me
We created the space and
seized the opportunity
I hold them in memory immemorial
And the feelings they inspired
Infused forever into my "me-ness"
I thank You
I miss You
I Love You
Forever my Moon
And one day my Sun*
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC