"juvenescence" poems
**Last I read, the Alpha said Jesus gave us Wine, Bread and Fish. The Way, Light and Truth was spread for nothing in return, a moving Church made wide, stead for each. Today I see business in Church all made part of some tradition, no valid permission...just a twisted perception of the less in the lurch and the rich in the mission. All due respect, I've seen Priests get lured by church female adolescence, truth. Priests are mentors especially to juvenescence, no wonder now church feels like a fashion parade courtesy of young essence, youth. Our Kids are now spiritually weak, they think going to church cleanses the sins for the following week. Adults say they've tried, but I see God holding a cane...whoever rebuked my Aunt's burial, pray you're not first in the lane. Where do we run to when Holy places are not such an Oasis? When white man doesn't travel to the moon with you? I don't know your faces...just mine, Black Jesus and Yahweh as basis...**
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
Quiescence:
The world yet to be;
change is imminent.
Excrescence:
The world as holistic;
change is traumatic.
Juvenescence:
The world as wondrous;
change is fascinating.
Adolescence:
The world as oppressive;
change is institutional.
Tumescence:
The world as idealized;
change is self-discovery.
Hyalescence:
The world as conceived;
change is forgotten.
Obsolescence:
The world as impossible;
change is unimaginable.
Senescence:
The world as finite;
change is death.
Obmutescence:
The world beyond conception;
change is māyā.
Latescence:
The world as a memory;
change is time.
Putrescence:
The world as continuous;
change is nature.
Rejuvenescence:
The world in utero;
change is birth.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
An inconspicuous wedge
Lodged between you and I
for quite some time.
A barrier so thick, I
misconstrued it as a child.
Prancing thoughts of inadequacy
twirled in my mind,
Full of naivety.
Now? I see you.
The damaged woman you are,
I see you in whole, your
Metaphoric ******
I was never your enemy.
You only reflected as such
because my being seeped tenuous
bits of you through the
Weaker portions of my juvenescence.
I am sorry you are broken.
I love you,
and I aspire one day you will
Love yourself, too.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 4:27 PM UTC
Twinkling fireworks on a warm summer night
I’m enthralled by the starkness of radiance,
The thunderous boom and magical shine.
And yet they flee
I watch them falter and fall,
Quietly acknowledging the sentiment
They banned us from building more castles in the sky,,
so we made forts in the basement instead
Clanked our glasses for freedom and self- determination
Embracing our glorious reign
Pencil drawn blueprints, methodically planned
Smudged lines of dreamlike destiny
We would have made it too.
Had we not carelessly lent them to fate
The blackness of the sky made them perish
Glittering ashes settled at my feet
Nothing but a smokey shadow marked our sweet juvenescence
The stars and the moon unscathed
It really was a fantastic show.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
**float my body
over
the sea of stones**
each one,
a memory
composed from
the mountain song
of my life....
calved into the river
of love.
to swim away
from me,
in a mission
of exploration
to the rims of reality.
float my body
over
the sea of stones.
that i may see
again,
the places i went,
the lives i lived
and then,
lay me down
in their cold embrace.
that i may ,
once more
live in the hard edged
ecstasy,
of my juvenescence.
the jagged days
of,
middle age
and the
slowgrindingdown
of
the latter days...
let me settle down
to
sleep,
amongst the
whispering rattle
of the stones,
as they
sing a lulluby
to my aged, decaying bones...
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
Predatory traces remain amongst the spread soot
The ashes that bore the incentive of a smile
A lonely ribbon flew along the scene - it was caught;
Grasped by the canids of a desperate pastime.
"Papa, can you hear me?"
"I will be holding the candles today"
"You have returned at last..."
"... but why did you leave again?"
Muffled screams, stinging pain, faint echoing of what remains,
The vitality that lingered in the sun,
Disappeared, in its stern gleam.
Trails of anguish resonate through the field, a grand feast
Clotted tufts, sent with grief, are held and spread over the field
My dearest father,
When the light shone down and revealed its deceit,
A realm that struck me headfirst, belittling me,
As you dance with the wind, I cry for an eternity.
The hounds of decay sing a melody, so daunting, intimidating tones
In deafening ecstasy, the games the shepherds play,
The ceasing of a prosperous juvenescence, killing feisty innocence.
In a loud cascade, the scenery deteriorates
Lush wisps of fire, dulled petals flourish in the wind
Dim embers, odoriferous leaves that dwindle amongst the feet
In anger they remained at the efflorescent poppies
The putrid grave that yielded
The warmth of the snow felt enticing, exciting
The numbed senses within the blank slate.
"I will be home tonight"
"Crying in the darkness"
"For my dearest smile..."
"... exists no more."
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
Weary soul, hear tell what is to be said.
Our juvenescence haunts us, taking the form of many things...
A smoke, a **** a pop, a drop.
An excuse not to stop.
In the mean of failure,
The obsidian night remains,
And only darkens by the tick tick.
Sometimes, the answer to life sounds like a click click.
But the waves move once again.
Not in favor of those who turn a deaf ear.
They influence our preference,
In regard to our deference.
Sobriety seems overrated,
Words often said,
By those who **** their own mind.
How can we be so blind?
**** the influence,
The generation of foes who neglect the implication.
As for you my kin,
Don't think twice, as to avoid a grin.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
O my childhood come back to me
Again like a child I wanted to be
Embrace me in your arms
Soothe me with your palms
O my childhood come back to me
Again like a child I wanted to be
There were no worries, distress or fears
And without any pain were my tears
Only my homework was I to worry about
For only my chocolates I usually fought
Mum's Lullaby song would send me to sleep
And dad would embrace in his love so deep
Grandma told me stories of prince & princess
Stories of hers & his highness
And dangerous battles won by brave knight
With grace & courage who would fight
I would always get so many sweets
Many more chocolates & candies to eat
Those were the days of my juvenescience
Those were the days of my joyful presence
Then we're the days when time would tweet
Then were the days when bliss always greet
A horn just snapped me out the memory lane
Seized my childhood, made me adult again...
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
It was just a shadow
but the way it moved
scared the bejeebers out of me.
I was just about to put the key in the door
when the big black shadow
passed through me and cast itself
right down the hallway
…and then it was gone.
It was raining and very windy
and after a short sharp shake of the head
I dismissed it and entered
and switched on the lights
– all of the lights.
Hang on…
How had a shadow been cast in the pitch black darkness!!
I was already miserable enough
I’d had a really difficult day at work
Dealing politely with someone you’d call a ****
Suddenly – there was a sharp rap at the door
which upon opening revealed
children, one, two, three, four
“Trick or treat, Mister”, the young leader said
at which I grinned heartily
and recalling the juvenescence of earlier days
I was rushed back to reality and to him I said
“Trick”
fully expecting and prepared for a hideous mask or something.
In less time than it takes to say ‘Abracadabra’
the whole scene before me
turned red
I couldn’t make out at first what I was seeing
but then I realised that everything, everything was red.
Houses, trees, cars, even all the people
were all red.
Fiery red!!
I was in Hell – and I was terrified.
There was a long deep laugh
coming from – I didn't know where.
it just surrounded everything
including me – what was going on?
And then I remembered.
“No!! Treat!!,
I shouted at the top of my voice
and just as suddenly as it had all appeared
it vanished.
“That’ll be a dollar Mister.” the youngest lad said.
I gave him five dollars
and closed the door
and locked the door
and very firmly slid the bolts home
and put the chain into its slot too.
I went into the study and poured myself
a very large whiskey,
and sat down, still shaking,
in front of the fire.
I had never been so scared in my life.
©Joe Wilson – Trick…definitely not a treat…2014
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
Passion, someday;
Will fickle, flutter and fly away.
Juvenescence, soonest;
As fleeting dew, will fade into oblivion.
Voluptuous, these bosoms;
As rosebud blossoms, will wilt by sunset...
But unchanged, shall my essence remain.
Love me now and next;
Unconditionally for me, only.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
youthful spirits race through the green of the meadow
boasting worth as if it needs to be proven
unaware how or when their laughter will turn to tears
the shape of the sun captured in a car window
holds energy for future release
backseat romance is best kept in the dark
springs in between steps fail
to mention the secrets
spreading their wings in
empty space
without room to nurture any wound
boys and girls hold each other
and face the world like it's a movie
they keep each other alive with
endless affection
sometimes fearing it only exists
in verbal security
and a sky which sometimes goes gray
during games and adventures in trees
can tell you the heartache that may have been a phase
is now permanent condition
stretched farther
than the outstretched hands
like prayers to a nameless god
seeking a day where beauty can exist
from beginning to end
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
The nature pays its debt to mother earth,
furnishing the soils and skies,
with beauty on wings
and beauty on greens.
The stars and the moons,
lovers and poems,
reflecting it's metamorphosis
flashing at the earth.
And a caterpillar hatches out from pearls,
looking upon sensations of freedom,
holding between his teeth, a leaf green of life,
it nibbles on life,
brimming with juvenescence.
It once takes a leap seeing a brightly coloured wings flapping,
wishing flight.
And one pleasant night,
the night laid its eyes on it,
and it trembled,
building a soft cocoon to hide in.
Hunger gushes in and kicks its warm belly,
and it breaths in the air
tangled in emotions,
misery and anger,
disgust and fear,
strength and sweetness,
weakness and bitterness,
surprise and happiness.
It weaves a blanket out of it in leisure,
thin as air and strong as a storm
wrapping it around its wiggly self,
and breaking the cocoon.
The moon falls in love
with the oenomel creature,
and watches it take off to please eyes,
and imparting color.
Love slides and plays on its wings of hope
and it calls itself,
A Butterfly.
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 10:24 AM UTC