"inestimable" poems
I definitely won’t make any apologies for saying this
and if anyone isn't careful she’ll leave them in a ditch.
But don't get me wrong, I am not referring to any woman by that name
only to the powers of deception that are played within the devil's game.
When you consider how much trouble she has caused;
without a moment’s lapse or of one repentant paused,
in human affairs over the years since the advent of man;
it’s a wonder that she hasn’t yet been flushed in the pan.
In case you might just be wondering what I’m talking about
Maya is the female equivalent of Satan who is a **** lout,
and who plays around deceiving anyone that ignores the Truth
which has been ingrained in our mind and heart since our youth.
In fact anything that is Divine, noble, good and of inestimable worth
Maya will try to turn it around into a thing seeming of much less birth.
She thus plays around with our emotions causing one to doubt and fear
where the reality of a situation would be to have faith and some cheer.
Her main battle is waged within a vulnerable human heart and mind
especially when an individual is undergoing difficulties of any kind.
She is also the one who arouses anger, jealousy, lust, greed and pride,
being full of all those traits herself and more she projects them outside.
We must try and be aware of the extent of her subtle delusion
and escape any entanglement in the net of her worldly illusion;
that so many people are now caught up in without their real knowing
not realising that Love and Truth are the things most worth showing.
______________________________
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
What a misfortune, although you are made
for fine and great works
this unjust fate of yours always
denies you encouragement and success;
that base customs should block you;
and pettiness and indifference.
And how terrible the day when you yield
(the day when you give up and yield),
and you leave on foot for Susa,
and you go to the monarch Artaxerxes
who favorably places you in his court,
and offers you satrapies and the like.
And you accept them with despair
these things that you do not want.
Your soul seeks other things, weeps for other things;
the praise of the public and the Sophists,
the hard-won and inestimable Well Done;
the Agora, the Theater, and the Laurels.
How can Artaxerxes give you these,
where will you find these in a satrapy;
and what life can you live without these.
4.5k
~one more for the r man~
almost Monday
and its weighty five day oppressive lead poisoning on the horizon,
is but a thirsty thirty six minutes away from its fortified Sumter, first shot to be fired at midnight, how we love to mark the commencement of hostilities and killing
but I am already wounded, a casualty of having spent evening with pleading, pleasing timer eating, reading of your work,
r
the sounds of inestimable admiration and infectious jealousy
make this old man eager to discard a lifetimes work and
begin fresh, but only as a copyist of you,
r
I know you’re thinking "what in the hell is he blubbering about?"
so I willingly will my confessional offering in the dark of the
holy bedroom; for you make me eat my words, and
spit them out as wastage, in dumbfounding humility
god you and yours, make me frail and blessed that I stumbled
upon your abbreviations of the human life,
r
shut up and accept my three r’s
reading ‘riting and rising
up to sing hymns of praise
for a man with a historical perspective and
whose few occasionals
are carved in the granite bench
of what makes my life
worthy of load bearing;
more than bearable,
all are soul-enlightened by
baring our humility, our admiration
11:24pm 4/15/18
nyc
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Dr Manmohan Singh is the most honest Prime Minister
Ms Sonia Gandhi is his dearest sister
India is proud of Her Silvery Himalayas
And her Inestimable super scandals
If She is able to progress with such a large scale corruption
Which is as vibrant and furious as volcanic eruption,
Every foreigner must be jealous of her glorious future
If the politicians become a bit patriotic in nature
G2 spectrum is the greatest scandal in India of incredible magnitude
The politicians and the bureaucrats need to be complimented on their fortitude
Mother India is a benign Goddess of great treasure
She can withstand any arson , looting,robbery or exploitation beyond any measure
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 2:18 AM UTC
the five days was a constant battle
between all the things
that ever existed
your thoughts were strewed
and your legs were too skinny
your arms can be measured
by your thumb and pinky
that stream of verbal consciousness
uttered nothing but prayers
between the dusky hours
i lost a limb on the fifth day
that empty hallway with dimmed lights
and the realizations with frustrations
the machines stopped working
it was more than tropical storms
and depressions, more than
mayhem, it scares me more than
the turbulence hundred miles
above the ground
it was an inestimable amount
of tragedy and heartaches
you begged for him to live
and yet it wasn't given to you
i cannot be angry at God
he wants you back
all i can really do
is wait for you
and still pray for you
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 11:26 AM UTC
She feeleth and thinketh she hast none worth,
If only I couldst showeth her the truth.....
That there is no Ruby
Nor gem,
Nor diamond,
Nor any brick of laden gold,
Nor any treasure chest,
Nor any amount of the worthless dollar bill,
That couldst buyeth who she is
Physically,
Spiritually,
Mentally,
Emotionally,
In all way's.....
No other reserve of this carnal world shalt showeth her the worth she hath....
She is an upper galaxy divine messenger,
Not to just me
But to others;
As her worth isn't measured by earth-like standard.....
No material canst measure up to her merit........
She cometh from her luna,
The one wherein the seraph's wander.....
And art caregivers
And helper's
And they art the true hopeless romantic's of the blue orb air....
She is worth more, than anything to God,
Yet,
She doesn't quite fully understand yet......
But to me,
She's worth living for.
She's worth dying for,
She's worth this life.
As the next
And the next
And the next
And the next
And the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next.........
As she's worth it so much to me I shalt wait a million more next's just for her to be with me.....as she's worth more than anything!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
~for the inestimable and yet,
so oft underestimated,
Lori Jones McCaffery ~
*"That was beautiful and I lived it with you." ^
tell-me, tell-me,
he whispers so only ***** can hear:
is there anything more,
a simple poet could ask for,
but an admission of someone revealing that
your words,
inculcated, enwrapped, flowered within,
then carried them to you,
and you to them?
to sit beside me, on my unpillowed weathered throne,
and imagine them imagining through eyes that read, shared
your overflowing joyous insights of the outside domain,
your sadness glorious at the end of a summer
where you rediscovered, un~purposed,
a mindfulness,
from the early morning sun beams stinging you alive
that together ***** the air from lungs exhaling,
and this very breathe
is the synapse of an actual consummation,
transmigrating, transmuting, transforming
a kindred soul
to kin
how glorious!
no, there is nothing greater,
but to ask:
my dear,
can you feel, taste my salted tears, Lori,
as I kiss each of your hands for becoming/making/cresting & creating
a bond of us?
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC
The heavy smoke of war lay across the world it was laced with carnage and had the sounds of screaming
Shells and the screams of the dying men but as it continued its drift at the far edges a cloud and mist
Began to diminish the former and distil a brighter future there was the timid glory sounding the
Harking tribute of childlike memories the power of innocence to diffuse the base and inhumane
To spill across these scathing pages an ethereal presence that was empowering of good that
Could and did straddle time and space with magnificence drawing from exploration and history
That beheld the worst but mined the hidden gold to enrich the world it knew secrets that
Exposed the damnable lies that bankrupted former empires we were created to be conquers
Our mettle is an amalgamation of weak flesh but inherit in the confused and reciprocating
Action ultimately a flash of inspiration leaps from the spirit the dead end near sighted flesh was
At the wall of limitation now we stand at the zenith of the universe at its ever increasing of it
Self this inestimable spring of well being floods the low plains we ford these rich waters
Immediately our impoverished cares taste and smell the high and great call of hope we
Instinctively open our heart and mind as a great sail we find our self in the envious position as a
Seafarer our very sinew is awakened to promise and opportunity we have left far behind the
Naysayers we see gifts of beauty spread everywhere where all before was drear now victory is
Courting us to rise to even higher heights boldness infuses our demeanor we now throw off
Yesterdays doubting with eyes that are no longer dim we see with clearest vision and with
Steeled determination former days of being wistful vagabonds is forever forfeited we have the
Right and the might that Lincoln addressed his generation we align ourselves with the high
Ideals of past warriors and martyrs know this our enemies whatever your culture or ideals you
Have come among a stalwart people and the foundations of our forefathers will defeat you the
Same as others who came with inferior and demonized religions know this truth will and has
Made us free look well to yourselves continue and your destruction is guaranteed check the
Harbinger winds and save your selves from the only outcome that will befall you which is
Destruction
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Tin cup
Simple pleasure common treasure it has its worth by it connection not everyone but many found this by an
On old pump by itself or next to a bucket you could drink or use it to prime the pump it lends itself to
Western lore found around the chuck wagon on a cattle drive one of the men on the trail drive squats
Before the fire with gnarled hands he holds the cup with hands that are callused from handling his lariat
Day in and day out on the cattle now he holds it filled with coffee strong river coffee drawn from the
Brazos shaded by mesquite cottonwood and juniper finest example of Texas this old cup ties you into
time and place a past that is loved and loved ones that shared campsites that now have passed on in the
Heat of the summer day you drank hardly from its contents it banged around in all kinds of
Circumstances invariably most of them pleasurable ones and who handled the cup mother or a favorite
Grandmother you see her hands lovingly holding the cup they go together like flowers and rain you strain
To hold the thought you don’t want to let go of that special connected memory or maybe they used it to
Measure flour by closing your eyes you can almost smell the bread or biscuits the flour produced it takes
You across many thresholds that are steeped in precious memories that can never be again you are
Taken back to childhood by something so simple but so useful it creates a lost time of joy and
Happiness long remembered and never to be forgotten a symbol or a symbolic trusted identification
With place or person you feel its coolness in your hand you move it around for a few quick moments
You return to yesterday not bad for a piece of tin they give so much credit to other metals for other
Reasons of course the value they possess and what you could exchange them for but that is talking
About a certain amount were dealing with priceless things of the heart that no amount of money can
Buy just think next time there are many items that are in themselves of little value but they are
Touchstones a gateway to a broken past riches that aren’t for sale or they are not to be bartered away
They are never put in a safe but they so readily take you to a safe place tender joy is felt in the heart
A calling can be felt and heard jewels of inestimable value lay hidden they easily come into view when
You touch insignificance without expecting anything the world lets you know you are richer than you
know
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
Spirit is a unified field
infinite
in a state of perpetual expansion
seamless bliss
beyond the slings and arrows of creations drama
pain and pleasure
disappointment and gratifications
we live
in the
zim zum
A cauldron
hollowed out
of the the self effulgent light
the source
formless
the theater of creation
a dark space of dynamic geometry
of fractious binary forces
a merciless churn
an atrocity for the evolution of individuation
pistons in motion
a cacophonous feng shui
a tangle of webs
a grand illusion
of energetics
kamikaze planets
hideous cruelties and voluptuous pleasures
a swarm of form
hydras in heat
countless lights casting inestimable shadows
a war between heaven
absolute order
and hell
absolute chaos
our lives
a medium
for the gods of struggle
until our heads a stone
the exit door
is pure spirit
spiritus...breath
breathing made conscious
the big hush
the royal yoga
waiting for the guileless
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
Only for the child does exist the school
Forgetting this, a teacher becomes a fool
He should always be very cool
And should never try autocratically to rule
A child is not a blank paper
He is the knowledge creator
And ***** is not an empty slate
But ***** is incredibly great
A teacher should never underestimate the child
And never believe his behaviour is so wild
A child is not an insignificant creature
He has got an inestimable bright future
Learning doesn’t happen by mere teaching
It happens by observing, experimenting
Meaning making, exploring and experiencing
A teacher shouldn’t resort to child’s fault finding
The frequency of the teacher and the taught must be the same
Then the teacher gets an unbelievable name and fame
The difference between teaching and learning gets lost
The language construction and knowledge creation becomes so vast
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 7:54 PM UTC
On hitting the abyss, I stumble on gold
of inestimable diamond-emerald.
Tell them not, if at all you know the secret of my treasure in the treasure.
I know I have amazing fortune of
priceless cyclopean value to
mesmerize many generations into lulabies of the unknown.
I know only the deep calls to the deep!
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Like they say "AT THE TOUCH OF LOVE ONE BECOMES A POET "
Mine is not an exception to it fact
Just the mere thought of you ignite my passion for writing
Like the rays of sunlight that light up everything inside of me
I must be honest am not that of a good love poet
But every word I write reflect to what I feel inside of me
I heard love is blind so I write this poem in braille
I may not be able to pen down all what I really feel right now
Cos true love cut so deep and it expression is endless
I always believe real love is pure kind and imperfect
you made it right just the way God intended it to be
Meeting you made me realize all the true hidden nature of love
It realistic taste of pure romance and indescribable emotions
Emotions so deep that not even time itself can explain
I maybe carried away by that same emotion right now
Cos every cell in me breath and sense of you
In fact each time I think of you and I together
I completely lose all my conscious state and awareness of what surround me
I see your face always in a reflection of true and divine beauty
A beauty not only molded with sand but with the touch of angelic brilliance
I see the reflection of God most beautiful angel in your eyes
Each time u brighten my world with your amazing smile
I know this sounds strange but every now and then I pray
that God somehow turns you back into one of my ribs
Just so that I would never have to spend an entire day without you
Feeling you so close to me than I've ever have
My greatest regret is not being able to see you every minute of the day
But I always gain courage not only because I feel your presence always
But that your absence helps to build and modify me
Into that man that won't be driven craze by your presence
I can swear that each time our lips touch in the realm of dream
I taste a hundred years of my life in an undiluted sugary taste of unending happiness
The thought of loving you alone
Takes me through the corridors of heaven
You in my life brings together peace and divine love in a perfect mixture
Together with happiness and unmerited grace
I can go right on and on to write how I feel
But in real sense not even the letters or words can truly express how I feel
Love is the most precious gift ever given to mankind
I feel pleased and blessed to have that gift in the person of you
Not even the whole money in the world can value your love
My priceless jewel of inestimable value
Will give the whole of me for you
Including my money joy and life
Love you with every beat that keeps me alive
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
And thus she went
Leaving behind her the many kind words
And lingering hopes that make all good things seamless,
But which fade like her perfume in places she slept.
When I saw her face disappear
Behind mirroring train reflections
I saw those who stared when we waved
Caught in the crossfire of our connection.
They should know, as all should, how
Our iron-clad love is feather armour
Marking a true knight of the cloth
The world's spasms worn about our backs with many gold brooches.
Such it is to be anointed, to filter all out
With your inestimable standards
Held high for those to see
How much she loves me.
Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 7:25 AM UTC
Time was, when I thought it strong,
to hold back and block all my feelings.
Inestimable the emotional devastation
I doled out on those unfortunates who loved me.
How can you dam it up so?, said the therapist's stare,
still her empathy opened my mind to smiling,
chiseled my heart from the glacier.
And slowly I learned to act out my dreams,
the wounded clown learned to cry.
Pride bled in the thickets of human ***********
Now, when I dream of life, I am perfectly amazed,
my singular life drawn to those who loved me regardless.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 7:48 PM UTC
Once I noticed a great writer, and he had no comments.
To remedy this occluded justice,
I left a colorful comment upon one of his best.
Immediately a scathing message appeared from him,
Though he had never messaged me before;
I had an instant moment of understanding
Of why he had no comments; it was just too obvious
For my childlike mind to have avoided the trap.
A few more condescending messages,
And I deleted the comment; nothing more needed saying.
I had trespassed on hallowed ground,
I had merely to retrace my steps
And all should be forgiven.
I intruded upon your life, which I could never really see,
Through a series of locks and channels
It remained invisible to me.
And again I invaded privacy, caused consternation.
Compliant, I withdrew all my excursions to your door
And with an effort, I mitigated any unhappy
Emotions remaining there.
I do this to spare everyone more pain.
But it comes at a price.
Did you ever wonder how all the people
Who go to the grocery store on Sunday mornings
Could have such well-defined niche lives?
They think they are defined by what they do,
By a synthetic order that's tacked over the hours of freedom.
There is an affliction, in which every single hour
Must be made to account for itself.
But what if they woke up some day
Before the grocery shopping was done,
Would they feel they had missed out on something
Inestimable and uncommon; worth sleeping in for-
And replaced it merely with something
Utilitarian and predictable?
Be careful what you trade your Sunday mornings for.
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 6:20 AM UTC
I wanna lose my self in the subdued wood,
where my emotion Oblivions to back to me
I wanna my delightful days of childhood
when my imagination ,with wings of dream flies free.
I wannabe the first ray of sun on the mountain ,icecrowned
to illuminate fuliginous frozen soul
I want to plunge into blue of ocean and to found
the inestimable pearl of smile as a whole
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 5:06 AM UTC
He shows me the right way
And inspires me to compose a poem a day
When I can’t , I will simply pray
And He will tell what and how to say
Every day is His invaluable gift
He gives me the spiritual lift
He made me a teacher by profession
To serve humanity is my noble mission
The morning sun gives me inestimable inspiration
The beautiful moon is my life long adoration
The sparkling stars illumine my soul
The vast blue sky reminds me of my eternal goal
My friends add incalculable meaning to my earthly life
Without my endearing wife my life becomes mere strife
My daughters add charm and beauty to my duty
For my earthly father’s loss, heavenly Father takes pity
I am thankful to my Heavenly Father for my being alive
For the emancipation of the depressed I will strive
Faith in the Holy Father gives me the real drive
With his blessings I hope three more decades I survive
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 3:19 AM UTC
curled up down the end of the
bed where loose feet hang,
comfort purrs, doused,
incontent. easy game.
so i sleep a little more:
outside, everything
will churn continually
in cyclic tone, oil-slick,
patterns always look the same.
further out, little
is left but the low rush
of breaking wavelets over
shallowing stone retainer
walls kept, keeping
the weight of this inestimable
machine
on track.
breathe stale air, smile,
the skyline accumulates;
handfuls of grey at a time.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
The second power of the Sphinx
is Will.
"Motion is by mind alone." ⊙
Intelligence, armed with Wisdom,
fortified with Understanding,
self-realizes.
The will to power orchestrates
desire, giving flesh to dream.
(ripples in the waters of מ)
Who awakens, ceasing Motion,
becomes the Mover:
the omnipresent Point.
Will is the Artificer of Truth.
Truth embodied by Art
follows conception.
Existence produces mythos.
*"The Maze, the Maze that is the Secret,
loves Itself.
And in the love of Itself,
amazing things Become."* ⊾
To Will is to express:
to falsify the inestimable
and create by omission.
"The world-dream is a lie." Ω
*"Lo, for these words that stain the lips of the Anointed,
the Smeared Ones.
Smeared in the ashes of My blood
is the lie that is Our story."* ⊾
The cause of Action is narrative.
The effect of Action is narrative.
I speak the Word.
I hear the Word.
The Story begins.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
horrendous
though embedded
through immemorial life..
unexpected
this singular testimony..
one's discovery
of essential being
there in plummeting depths
of darkest time..
the discovery
not confided..
of terrible truth
in secrecy guarded
with rarity spoken..
but when
always with tears..
the discovery
a flame within
a newfound dimension
found with horror..
then awe overshelming
joined with surprise
of inexpressible joy..
this more real
than earlier notions
of what's out there
and in here..
the discovery
a radiant thread
the connector
of life with death..
inestimable worth
transformed awareness
new birth
still..too frightening
too wondrous
to mention..
gifts of war...
(this is for my
dear friend, Paul,
and his gift work
to elevate the
consciousness
of us all...)
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:50 PM UTC
For Thou alone my heart sings
O Lord of Lords, King of Kings;
how can I love Thee as I ought,
Thy love I have so long sought.
When I contemplate Thy goodness to me,
I am in awe and enveloped in humility
that Thou O God from infinity
saw fit to create one like me.
My heart overflows for love of Thee
like swelling waters of the blue-green sea,
like the roaring waves splashing ashore;
it is Thee O my God whom I adore.
Permit that I may love Thee evermore.
When my earthly life comes to an end,
my sinful wounded soul wilt Thou mend?
May I one day behold Thy radiant Face
and reap the joy of inestimable grace?
How I pray this will be so, O Lord,
as to Thee alone all Praise I accord;
to be in Thy company one of these days
hearing choirs resound in Praise
to Thy Holiness and Grace
in that heavenly Place
and behold, I gaze
upon Thy most
beautiful
Face.
© Carmela M. Patterson, All rights reserved.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
The sun sends his gorgeous light
A poet gives us inestimable delight
The sun brightens the world with his glorious rays
And the poet illuminates it with his poetic ways
The sun sometimes hides him self in the cloud
And the poet at gloomy times in the crowd
The eclipse may darken the sun for a while
And the society may subject the poet for a trial
The sun gives us necessary heat
And the poet makes his/her aesthetic feat
The sun is the life giver for the universe
The poet is the truth lover with his/her verse
The poet can view
Where the sun has no clue
I worship the sun god
And adore the poetic lord
Dec 26, 2010
Dec 26, 2010 at 5:58 AM UTC
Tin cup
Simple pleasure common treasure it has its worth by it connection not everyone but many found this by an
On old pump by itself or next to a bucket you could drink or use it to prime the pump it lends itself to
Western lore found around the chuck wagon on a cattle drive one of the men on the trail drive squats
Before the fire with gnarled hands he holds the cup with hands that are callused from handling his lariat
Day in and day out on the cattle now he holds it filled with coffee strong river coffee drawn from the
Brazos shaded by mesquite cottonwood and juniper finest example of Texas this old cup ties you into
time and place a past that is loved and loved ones that shared campsites that now have passed on in the
Heat of the summer day you drank hardly from its contents it banged around in all kinds of
Circumstances invariably most of them pleasurable ones and who handled the cup mother or a favorite
Grandmother you see her hands lovingly holding the cup they go together like flowers and rain you strain
To hold the thought you don’t want to let go of that special connected memory or maybe they used it to
Measure flour by closing your eyes you can almost smell the bread or biscuits the flour produced it takes
You across many thresholds that are steeped in precious memories that can never be again you are
Taken back to childhood by something so simple but so useful it creates a lost time of joy and
Happiness long remembered and never to be forgotten a symbol or a symbolic trusted identification
With place or person you feel its coolness in your hand you move it around for a few quick moments
You return to yesterday not bad for a piece of tin they give so much credit to other metals for other
Reasons of course the value they possess and what you could exchange them for but that is talking
About a certain amount were dealing with priceless things of the heart that no amount of money can
Buy just think next time there are many items that are in themselves of little value but they are
Touchstones a gateway to a broken past riches that aren’t for sale or they are not to be bartered away
They are never put in a safe but they so readily take you to a safe place tender joy is felt in the heart
A calling can be felt and heard jewels of inestimable value lay hidden they easily come into view when
You touch insignificance without expecting anything the world lets you know you are richer than you
know
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
When once I stop and take account of these
that God has granted me upon the earth,
the loves, the friends, the work, that charm and please
these things I count inestimable worth;
when once I stop, I learn that I am rich
beyond the dreams of emperors and kings
and light is real, and real these riches which
exceed the worth of all material things...
when thus I stop, I cannot understand
when few and feeble sunbeams cannot find
their way into that drab and dreary land,
the darkness of the middle of my mind.
yet darkness cannot take away my joy,
for night can only hide, and not destroy.
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 9:15 PM UTC