Time alone is the ultimate conqueror.
It wears down great men and empires alike.
So too it withers the wildflower;
all break before Aggressor-Time.

The hot sun burns into my turned back.
I thought I'd taste the asphalt for a while.
A begging thumb moves faster than a running fool,
but the sun has baked the asphalt to my feet.

Every northern town worn down by Aggressor-Time
awaits the final blown of urban renewal;
and pop-art will decorate the city streets,
where Aggressor-Time has chosen to leave a slum.

Still, the taste of asphalt and the smell of gasoline
carry me beyond these thoughts
and I run from Time, that sadist,
a shimmering mirage just down the highway.

Resting at night, there's always a bar
and a girl upon a stool, who'll listen for a drink.
Kiss her, love her, then run with the dawning sun.
Beware!  For Time creeps up on you at night.

Broad expanses are diminished by the asphalt,
so too your memories lurking in the forests.
But that which you left behind awaits you,
Time, like the rings of Saturn, has no end.

Savor your victory Aggressor-Time!
Your pestle has ground down mind and body,
only calcified bone left in the mortar,
that futilely defied your crushing weight.

Lactate motto naku smile.

this poem,
for my friend, who has hit the road,
in ways others only think they have done or know,
miss her firecracking wizardy,
she, the only inky reason
still talk to god,
to cover all the bases,
employ every tool and invention,
to make sure you are a-ok alright,
on the journey to an unknown destination
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lactate motto naku smile
That is Apple talk.

My Apple language master
señor spell check,
thus advised and improved upon me,
way back on April 3rd of this year.

I wrote:
"last attempt to make you smile."

Apple translated my ginger finger snap taps
into American English as
"Lactate motto naku smile"

Stumbled on this oath, this midnight eve,
this phrase, duly nated and nested,
amidst our very long exchanges,
which someday soon,
am going to edit excerpt
as one most readable single poem,
a tribute to you, not,
that you, my traveling friend,
you already greedy got

no, just a dialogue
just a par example,
of how friendships are born,
how words lactate from each of our *******,
how relationship are birthed and nutured,
in a crazy place, where language lovers
are the nuclei of a dying breed,
once called the human place

***, back in ancient history,
way back on Sept. 29th
our first communication
tween our mutual alien races
tee hee, me wrote first
as follows

Each individual word,
was a separate message,
for such devices deserved of self-respect,
sometimes want their power demonstrated
on a stand alone basis and here that follows was how
Presented and Conceived

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
This

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
Message

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
Is

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
For

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
You

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
Only

Nat Lipstadt  Sep 29, 2013
Can a man fall in love with a name?


you permissioned me a
multiplicity of yeses,
thus began our star trekked voyage
in the stellar spatial space of the
galaxy of humanity

but part of your new trajectory,
a new orbit in a new spaceship
you champagne smashed anointed as
Mirabel

Now I know you hate my habit,
of slipping in a definition,
making the lazy reader
unself-sufficient,
but I grant, nay, take this liberty, I dew,
while in your quiet traveling disappearance time

Mirabel*
is a female name stemming from the Latin word mirabilis, meaning "wondrous" or "of wondrous beauty"

what ya know, ** **,
nothing could be fina,
than to be in your minda,
nothing more apropos,
than calling your ship in Latina,
a wondrous female beast of beauty

ok I know I go on too long
as is my wont, my nature,
but I could not shorten my course,
in any other way,
Ok,
I
Guess
I
Could
Have
Said
I miss ya terribly*

somewhat more succinctly
but what fun would that be?

Be free!
I release you, Nurtured Feathers
Go! Fly!

Run and flee!
Leave this wall-less house of Forever!
Escape, bye!

Be gone!
No longer Us bound together!
No longer try!

Just remember!
I sewed your wounds better!
Dried Nurtured's eyes!

Don't forget!
I severed Binds that held Nurtured tighter!
Eliminated lies!

Reminisce!
Of toils of illness and bouts of fever!
Shoulders where Nurtured voice cries!

Just know!
There never were walls, windows, doors, locks, or levers!
Nutured was always free to go and try!

Freed Ye!
Become loveless to the hand of the deepest lover!
Beseech my soul as it dies!

So, Be free!
I smile as I release you, Nurtured Feathers!
Ever hurt as you go by!

She sketches the outline

Them darkens the pencils

Adding traces of fine shade



Time passes and her skill shows

As the picture begins to form

To stand out for the viewer to see



Each drawing is with loving care

They are like children to her

Nutured and made with love



Fairies dance with radiant colour

You can almost feel their smiles

The art glows as if it is alive



There is magic on that paper

That comes alive when you look

The perfection of a true artist

Growth

From the dying firelight I stand ,
Burning embers fry my feet where I stood!
I stand in your honour,
Proud as love lives!
Life will thrive,
Nourished and nutured,
As natures' own dreams intended!

As crippled soul,
I am restrained,
Without you,
I don't love,
I want no love,
I know no love,
Other than your proviso,

Love could ****,
If I'd let her,
Hell,
I won't she has no holds,
She has no boundaries,
Strength in my honour,

No others have these causal effects,
Nobody could,
Tragic, nonetheless magic,
My claws rip at the tide of flowing love,
Scratching myself on the way!
Life is deathly in dark hallows!
Light will prevail ...no qualms!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Like ·  · Promote · Share

Dear night mother,
The youngling flew the coop.
Off for wild adventures, he cannot be tamed.
His elder kin spoke of magic,
The intellectual splendor of spells
Gifted yes, but not quite so as her
The painted daughter of darkness,
She colours the world in twilight.
This brings us to dusk, mantle I wear proud.
Eldest of eld, nutured by you mother,
To grow strong, wicked and well.

Those glowing eyes,
The prestege of feathers
Mother owl, bless our endeavours.
Grow old, grow wise

Bless you, oh mother,
And the nocturne skies.

Doomsday nurses us from the start, reigning over the watchlist of our lifetimes. I walk through the destruction in my path while ignoring the hand I dealt in it. The disillusionment falls out of your mouth and I weep tears at the sight. The end of a cycle. I nutured you whole and watched the lilacs bloom from your scalp. Started as buds but with the passage of time became weeded. I thought I breathed new life but it stands as just obliteration.

Walking down the lane of solidarity,
Under the light,
No,
Not the light of the stars nor the moon,
Its only the dim shimmering gleam of the streetlight.
Night ain't the same without the natural light,
Bustling city consuming the very nature who nutured us,
Gone,
The stars that can be seen all night,
Now a myth, a rare sight.
My night is now a starless skies.

I have always preferred the ancient, crippled and malformed ruins of places. The backbones of civilisation laid bare upon the ribs of the earth, I see more beauty in this destruction than angel's houses that stand tall and golden, shimmering in the light of the sun and preserved as if God's own hand had molded them. They are wrong.
See here the gloat of man! How we scream for attention and praise using the shining foundations of an unknown God to control the known masses and make them believe we are bigger than we are; bigger than the dirt that molded us and the humble springs that nutured us. We are not infallible nor unbreakable as those golden houses would tell. We are as fleeting and finite as the ages of man passed in bare rememberence.
We build our homes amongst ruins and return to them despite any prayers, temples, or carved angels, we are born from dust and we return to it, with no divide to say what man served what god or what coin filled who's purse.
The dark takes everything and does not hold favourites.

Give me the unction Lord
To be ready when you call
Fully clothed in your armor
Prepared, lest I should fall.
Let our gifts and your talents be nutured
And used at your command,
Filled with pride at being your child
Never afraid or ashamed to stand.
When I see others around me
Let me seek to fulfill their need
Let your spirit and your word
Be the food on which I feed
And when this life is over
May you find my life worthwhile
And with open arms proclaim to me
Thy good and faithful child.

I thought you were beautiful
like the rarest of things left in the world
to be admired, to be complimented
but it became clear i didn't understand you
calling you beautiful was seeing the surface of things
admitting that i don't see the see message in the painting
just the painting on the wall–
but the beauty i got to see could not be described in just words
you were carnation from the earth within
touched and nutured by love itself
you were the seed hidden between the rubbles
but not flawed, not harmed just growing with bliss
you were like shadows, hidden in darkness
but revealed the truest nature of things
that's what calling you beautiful means

-Vibeactivist

I am the tiny one of four I little imp I was before.
I lived in wolves caves long ago
Where winters frost bit hard
But beauty I glistened loved by snow
Spring days upon the grass I grew
nutured loved and safe with you
The broken child I tried to save
Became a sign I can't be chained
Although the fear of winds and storm
You kept me safe and still and warm.
The fairies whispered in the night
The garden lit by candle light
Another tale a trip to be a signal of enertity
But in the caves deep by the sea they never captured mermaids see
For in the misty deep deep path
Only light shone through the gaps
The day came and she was gone but fairies light my path
For even in the hollow dwell and in the sadness I'm still well
I journeyed far and all around
Got my feet on holy ground
Broken arrow steal hearts
Make it fun and keep it smart
Laughter fills with every turn
Make waves so big you yearn
dive so deep you cannot see but into wrecks you seek
Excitement captures every minute
You feel like your awake
Fly so hight sore above
From longmind to the lawly
From Middleton to Wales
Keep flying high I touch the sky even with the broken wings
The beauty of the little ones the beauty that he brings
My beautiful children so happy playing in the winds
The time of bug and campervans
Festivals and hot air balloons
Drunken nights at white ladies priory watching movies all night long
The anchor and its stories
The boats as they go by
The chief with looks that score me and funny he walks by
I am so happy driving my bug along the sea
Top down shades on and all around my friends they true will be
The nights we had under the star lit canopy
I remember being lonely but didn't last for long
As always with this story
A new friend comes along
So much love I've given and so much love recieved
The kindest man before me of which I've never seen
Pictures painted on my skin
Colours every where
And even when the shadows come
The light he shines outwits them
One upon another time when snow was on the ground he held my hands and told me his love would never end
I trust in him and hold his love for my soul be true and will always follow the light in him the warm the kind the true
Be afraid to lose another
Or whisper soft and hear
That in my sadness you appear and thousands of stars do fall
And in the morning light I'm safe for he is always near
And even when the story ends and a journey taken elsewhere I'll know he always had my heart
And never turned his back
So sunshine love and lasting light forever I'll be true
To what you once created and what I always knew
That no matter how bad life's story you can still be you **

i like the look of wild growth
i like the old garden in montgomery

although my passenger declared it a mess

i worked with a girl this year who studies
wild things, sustainability

a difficult spelling

she says this wild way is best

modern
culture has nutured tidy in the
minds

though i notice a surge in love
for wild flowers

to resist the mowings along the roads

yesterday i left the tall grass and watched
the butterflies there

my daughter gave them names
while indoors again find
no observers book of moths
or butterflies

now back on line
i may
ebay

did  the bird survive?

we must try to save the trees
we must try to save it all

regards
have a pleasant day

Sonja

6.42
heat warnings
limited train service
rails may buckle