"peaceable" poems
(a tribute; if mere words could be enough)
~
the life of this River,
'tis an unending stream;
is an unpublished book,
its current fast at flood;
a flow that washes clean,
all the gathered debris;
its words like diamonds,
sparkling neath its lapping
waters at its river bank;
a sound refreshing,
hushes the rush in my mind,
calling to my soul.
where does the river go at night,
and whence flows its waters
when hidden, out of sight?
its flow is eternal to the sea;
a place of waters gathering,
of floods heaping,
of reflection's seeking,
where still waters lie,
where the hand of friendship
holds and lifts all who venture
to its depth where feet
can touch no longer
the point where most
would flounder
become a place of calm
of peaceable retreat without
and deep within
a flow of tears for thee!
~
*post script.
a heart on sleeve composure,
for he who knows the River best!
who's breath is water deep,...
who's heart beat its very current!
added 12-13-16
my dearest HP friends, i want to thank you for this Daily and for your generous words, though i cannot truly claim this credit for my own. those of you who have walked these halls with me for a few years will read between the lines and will know precisely for whom this tribute is written. he is become to me one of a small handful of poetry mentors and it was a moment of great appreciation for his artistic talent that inspired these words... words that tumbled from this pen as a rush, and in mere minutes. such is he, that he inspired this spill of words; a flood that i would not claim for my own. to he who knows, thank you, my friend... this River... these and this belongs to you!!*
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
Look out,
across time, go
windborn in our mind being,
look out,
into the depths of ever being,
rethink the processes time used,
reimagine the silence at the moment.
All for us to have our own being in,
confined in common sense of the we
the one we of us since ever was a time,
before now, and later, still,
this same concurrency of events…
our crossing point in time.
Instants of peaceable knowing, growing
into states of conscious knowing use.
Feb 12, 2024
Feb 12, 2024 at 2:48 PM UTC
Spells of chieftain splendor
Bespeaking of loyal grandeur
Now the eye clearly sees without fear
At dusk!
The ancient kingdom of Assur?
A flight in time and space from afar?
Was that ingenious creativity of flair?
Still bids indubitable eternal mystery!
Are clothes on man an anecdote of utter hypocrisy?
Is sarcastic humor a precursor of hidden sinister?
The animals hereof show their ******
Undertone tinges of impeccant simplicity
Stirring poignant Achilles' heel character
As an infant suckling the breast of saccharine nature;
Lo! And behold…
Sage mortals envisage a grotesque quest for a promising stage,
Regnant and dignified?
The new-age psyches’ beatify and feebly beg
"Reform, in fact, is, rather softly, on the win”
The lighthouse flashing against the sleet-blurred fig twig
As every sacred notion becomes an unwavering origin certain,
With no remorse that mankind can now ascertain
The bewildering incarnation of science in religion!
Like a single lily among lilies in a dark dungeon
Great spirits now encounter violent opposition
“Un-awakened Children silently screaming with pessimism”
Hiding within the smooth sacred mask of personality
Yet the fear of “the unknown” silently plays a drowsier symphony
Calling back the violent rays to illuminate a peaceable destiny
Were illusionary realities conform to the whims of a veiled deity,
This goddess!
A mystifying inferno doing its own radiance faster
What a fuss!
So light-footed as love yet so heavy-footed as war
As if to justify the whirling gloom of despair
Like the bleakness of the morning cuckooing rooster
Or the dog which barks at his own image in a pond;
“What startling veneration”
Mortals without remorse still aspire to find
The misplaced diamonds and daffs upon the beamish ground.
Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:46 AM UTC
Save me from this ailing sudate disdain
To pursue an oath to ordain,
Crimson dark stains yet uncertain.
Beneath a soul’s secret door to obtain
Pure pardon from this wretched torment and pain,
The sickening impudence…an implication!
Yet I try that Grace, Harmony and Love may win,
What am i…but a travailing mortal machine
Taking flight from this mundane plight to become even.
I plead that this conscious with mildness can reckon
In awe I cry out…
“Please don’t forsake me divine Logos”
In dilapidated pieces without price am torn
Helpless and lost behind the aisle,
Not more than an infantile person
Searching for a comfy path back home,
Sad but at times to admit the autism awoken.
In solitary at the center of crossroads
Were do I turn to run?
My heart so weak and slain without feign.
I have judged without concern
To satisfy an ego unknown,
On my stifles I now implore of the Passion
That she may patch-up for a peaceable Parturition.
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 5:40 AM UTC
Charred remains, of jungle burned:
Fire steeped, laotian leaves.
Who we lost, in what we earned;
For the love of ******
Of sweet release.
Korean craters, Mexican invaders, &
The Boxer rebellion.
The sinking of Maine, the panamanian strait;
Meuse–Argonne, inherent freedom
Is there a place, for the peaceable to congregate?
Versailles, Geneva, Nuremberg, Tokyo.
What point to rules are made,
When no one follows them.
Bagram, Mai Lai, Tiananmen, the Chechen genocide
Is it merely in our nature;
To fight, and argue, divide?
We can conquer, but can we conquer
The lust that is
The love of tribe
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 6:43 PM UTC
How my disappointments frighten you,
the scalding of hot tea that should be comforting.
Chocolate mint, I’ll tell you this: these are
the virgins I have sacrificed, only to give birth
to two. These are the dreams I have traded
for cold realities. The rain is no longer green
and peaceable. The ocean is a perfect stranger.
Sleep evades me; the pillow is no loving cradle.
I am serenaded nightly by the baby’s wail.
Frozen solid in winter’s cocoon, I long to unfold
my wings. And no matter where I come to stand,
violence permeates every space. There is no escaping
it. It is in the square. It is in the mean people, hard
as glass that does not break, unlike hearts that do.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC
I am not some peaceable pot-smoking hippy,
Or a ******** punk inclined to rage away.
Similarly not a broker, with no share of a real trade
Or a developer of putrid estates
Different from some disaffected political nutcase
Radical revolutionary, only in the way
That I still have hopes for change
Nov 1, 2023
Nov 1, 2023 at 7:15 PM UTC
Tortured Soul
They who speak fowl language walk with a cadre of devils. Can you send evil ahead destroy peace
Bind the very air loose your enemy to condemn your character in every sound reasonable persons
Hearing then expect the path to lead to tranquility and honest questions to flow back to the soul.
Your progress already fraught with challenges your need find and discover peaceable persons of
Integrity of depth and sure footing your baseness draws the brittle the shiftless to your life they will
Come in droves your voice and tongue unbridled it has not found the wisdom of being circumspect. Your
Ultimate goal go into the world study look in your unique way at it blessings and benefits train your eyes
To see perfection while it sets in and is robbed entirely in imperfection your gift and task give your vision
To those in this area who are sightless. You can be the beguiler the artisan the creator of magic casting
Spells through your own lens you are trying to become an honest guide to those without the gift their
Finding and knowing this subject is dependent on you but you must first conquer yourself and posses a
True quality of nobility where do you want to display your work in dives and back alleys or on walls that
Others have enriched by their keen sense of duty and singular vision. First the work must begin within
No one makes a mark without the hardship the dedication that results in rarefaction the norm the
Mundane can speak without end but no one pays anything for their empty ramblings. You go to the halls
Of higher they can’t teach you true genius you must open every source of your being demand perfection
Beyond the fair and easy paths look into the soul of the people produce a living edifice that will enable
Enlighten encourage free those bound give them soaring room your dream can carry them to heights
Unknown the first door you must pass through is indifference this blight destroys everything in its path
The spirit has no bounds you alone can tie God given possibility in knots with under rated living.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
a jade rimmed cup and painted saucer
cradle warmth laced with gentle sweetness
subduing roasted strength into peaceable stability.
whites and creams and chestnut browns
froth and dissolve into a delicate caramel shade
as minutes are sipped away in uncommon quietness.
yours is always the shy whisper--
i love you.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
The long thin-handled edge
of the country, where many
have come to dip their
dipping cups and drink
from rivers diverted into
extreme long and lonely
farm-dedicated ditches,
from the pocketed geography
of blocked up Sierra streams:
how many ways we have
poured our water into
separate cups and worked
at ways to keep it from
its way of life-giving
and of natural flowing.
And now four spins
from the sweating sun,
our lake grounds cracking,
our ground tables slacking,
we must think how to suspend
our dippers, pour our
shared need back into
the source that kills
our thirst. Can we do
this as a people?
Share what is quickly
becoming scarce?
California, land that
brags of leadership--
can we show the world
a peaceable sipping?
All the rivers I ask
seem to answer never.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
Listen to these whispers
you're going to find a terror you haven't encountered
in your peaceable years in your masculine form
wait with baited breath on the edges
the blood will flow slowly
so don't move just yet
i'm not done
you'll cry out
and i'll smile softly to myself
as if I had any mercy
or will to unbind you
you have made yourself mine
by the bitterness you've instilled
therefore weakening your state
strengthening my blood
my taste
my bite
my dominance
so cry out
as if I have mercy
as if there is anything
that will stanch the flow of blood
at this given moment
and know
just know
i'm not done
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 7:31 AM UTC
Foretelling the sweet aura of a dream
Signaled by the silent whisper of the southern winds
When all that counts is the smooth sail downstream
And a peaceable expedition upon the Sahara silky sands…
Nowadays a young voyager seeks to understand and affirm
The recourse being presented by this mysterious cosmos
Which stealthily conceals its activity like swimming *****
Pursuing its ambition surreptitiously to win the dummy run;
Searching, leaching and escaping the monotone matrix amid countless
Incidences of mystery that only point to infinite possibilities
Devoid of meaning to the ‘blind’ mainstream masses
Initiated into scripts they did not opt to engrave;
The vexed issue of priorities to save
This amateur spirit innocently postulating for pity,
Searching to find the obliterated Sovereign deity
Whose sacred truth is jam-packed with piety:
Imploring, musing and mulling over yesterday
To sequentially understand today and tomorrow beyond the unvoiced valley,
Ascending the irksome expedition to the mountain top
Were the most wondrous reality awaits this intellectual creep,
That the delightful fortune being sought
Is the world “With-In” and not
The world “With-Out”
Muhumuza Kenneth Ezra.
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 3:54 AM UTC
I’m a construct; piece-wise and bilateral
Anointed by half pieces parted from wise souls
Who sojourned to two-states America in uncertainty
Bore fruit, and I’m part of the four.
As fourth, I am the neoteny of the family
I’m this fleshy symmetry
Can barely keep track
Must remind, crafted in his Immortal Geometry.
So I must grin and bear it
It goes so fast, I remember bits and pieces
Far from wise, before neo-belief
I match left and right but inwardly, I’m not so wisely pieced.
It didn’t take long, my journey, though certainly short, by peaceable ambulation
From where I’ve been, people I’ve met with this inner asymmetry
I want to fix them; with my black hammer and white nail
With my grey, pulpy, heart.
Yet I don’t have the means.
Now I just don’t have it, I need to amble over with mine
My beloved two wise figures of geometry, please understand this
There’s more than the framer of hand or eye, our hearts form imperfect amalgam.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
I met a figure
of darkened glamor
he told me to look
inward
the introvert
has a power
the silent
observer
treasures present themselves
and reveal
their shining
location
mapped out
and planned
a trajectory
well
calculated
find this energy
of peaceable
conscious
and take heart
when the music
stops
the precipice
of genesis
a growth
into
new
creation
and more channeled
vibration
May 12, 2023
May 12, 2023 at 10:27 AM UTC
for Aidan, Noah, Mary Ann
The boy lived in a town by himself. Because he didn’t know his own name, he did not name the town. The town had one street that circled the town and there were no houses or buildings. The boy was never hungry, and if he was, he’d never been hungry enough to know it. He was thirsty often and because he’d had a dream about his body being full of water he’d spit in his hand and open his hand to the sun when the sun was out and then drink the warm spit. He was not afraid to leave the town but still he did not leave it. Perhaps he was its bravery.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
I'm not going to “Pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America”.
We aren’t “One nation, under God”.
What happened to “Liberty and justice for all”?
People stopped caring, that’s what.
These are a few words from our pledge, yet all I read is empty promises.
The first two amendments of our very own Constitution include these;
One: Freedom of speech. Yet we aren’t allowed to say what we think.
Two: Freedom of press. Yet tv and radio stations can’t swear.
Three: Freedom of religion. But if one doesn’t agree with another’s religion they point it out.
Four: Peaceable Assembly. But we can’t protest without causing “Problems”.
Five: Petition the Government. Yet the government always has final say.
And six: The right to bear arms. So why are they taking our guns?
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on the continent,
a new nation, conceived in liberty,
and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19th, 1863.
Some of the greatest words ever said in or about our country.
Most of us as American’s have thrown all that away.
Men and women are both treated unfairly.
There are Feminists out there complaining about every little mistake a man can make.
Men on average earn 22% more in pay than women do.
There are 13 states where they have banned same *** marriage.
Nothing about America shows equality.
Women and men are out there fighting for us right now, or have in the past.
They fight to keep our country whole, and free, and peaceful, and united.
But it’s hard to keep something united that has not been in a long time. So no.
I won’t pledge my allegiance to the flag of the Broken Sates of America
Until it is fixed again. Would you?
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
I was born determined with a peaceable life
When i wasn't troubled with other folks' strife
I had a hop growing up want to be rich as i wished
Before i met a lady that acted better than Grish
I never felt infinite
my repulsiveness had my speeches scrawled
I was unfulfilled
my obsessiveness had caused me a squall
I once had fallen in love with a girl who had me felt disrespected
Because of my passion i couldn't easily deflected
Yet,I was inspired by the sun to have the lady go
Successfully i have forgotten about her in a row
Now I have risen and never will be as hot as she hated
Tomorrow I'll set when all her efforts led to naught as she waited
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
I formed a personal goal.
I swore I'd be a more peaceable
a more centered man.
For a while I had maintained it well but
but now I'm finding I crack under the pressure
of what is a pseudo serenity.
A restrained anger
does not constitute a lack of it.
I can't help but think
maybe rage hurts you
and maybe peace just adds another weight
on the back of a modern Atlas.
What more than the world can one hold atop his shoulders?
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
Mask
Past the midnight hour I would lie still—
Passers by read peaceable expressions upon my countenance-
A gentle breeze rocks the branches on the trees outside
Words inscribed before their eyes would say all is well-
Clouds cover the sky,
Grass covers the ground upon which we walk and
Nobody sees beneath that sinister mask that I wear-
I have walked many miles and
Have seen this whole world-
Past the midnight hour I would lie motionless-
Beneath the mask I wear, are tear-filled eyes and
A blanket covers my angry heart-
People do not see beyond laughter and contentment
I was once a child who walked a different pathway
Those others have not walked before-
In this world there are many roads to travel upon,
Many mountains to climb-and many rivers to cross.,
Fear has driven my spirit away from walking in every direction –
Somewhere along the way I have chosen the wrong pathway towards finding my destiny
I am a lost soul without direction,
An angry spirit who has never known tranquility-
I would hide behind that mask now painted black,
Opaque so that my true self is indiscernible
If I could remove the darkened mask I wear and throw it to the wind
The world would see my tears fall as would a torrent of rain and
Look into my eyes and my thoughts would become their literature-
A horror story or a novel with a tragic ending-
And the pain of being stabbed in the heart with a sharpened bladed knife-
I am frozen in time- I only foresee one road upon which to travel
That is, the road to madness which is sadly all too familiar-
I stand at crossroads not knowing which direction to take in this life-
So I lie still in the darkness, hiding behind that black opaque mask-
Concealed from the world- unable to discern reality, and terrified of my surroundings.
People rarely look beyond surfaces- because of their own fears of what is real-
So they keep dancing, and laughing to their hearts’ content because
They are afraid to see the dimness on the far side of the river.
They wear their own masks with their eyes painted shut, wanting to believe
That the sky is always blue, even beyond dark clouds before a storm
Wishing to believe that a lighted candle of peace shall never burn out in time.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
When I asked for her hand
I did it all wrong
stuttering and panicking
I planned this for so long
I just put the ring on a bench
she did pulse and thought
it was like my last million years
as her eyes did fill with tears
My love for her is unspeakable
in my heart it is most peaceable
I have much faith and much trust
that a happy life ensures for the both of us
she said yes to me
to a ****** idiot like me
and I love her
I love her
I love her
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
aware of some
things, aware
HERE am I
there you are
near and far and nothing
in between, why
should I care, beware…
It's me,
in this world, it's me,
making up my mind, to live on,
to live on
to leave behind me, for you -
a way to go,
if you really wish to follow, if
you truly hold the hope of ever
being better than right
now,
now. Right, not wrong, right now.
You know.
You think you know, right now,
with no miracles, no little things
to see, with no joy felt shared,
with no sorrow shown in tears,
with no feet a dancin'
up on tippy toes, just a spinnin'
in time,
like a planet or a star, loopin' life
in time,
from somewhere inside, center
of heavy
of hard
of dark and cold… dark and cold…
singer… singer singing wordlessly,
la las and mmmhmmms, so so so
lighten up,
lighten up my will to be worthy,
lighten up my will to be care free,
lighten up my will to be loved, by
strangers who imagine I have
loosed some good in some shape,
loosed some good held out of sight,
strange as not cognized, coknown,
to me and you, the other end of these
lines left to prove, a second
thought… if you make joy, peace remains
enjoyable,
no mass converts to energy,
my taken peace, my inspiration never
expires, each time I miss, I miss nothing
I hit
on another decision
to make.
I laugh, and let out long rambles, through
brambles familiar
to creatures built low
to the ground
at the human
being being being more than…
Partaker of the programming.
Snipping
Re-ligamental knots, religious at-here-
ence sense so common to all here,
re-
filtered feeling manufactured, here
in living words translatable, peaceable,
easy
to use while defusing the confusion,
and allowing angelic angst ambitious umph,
committed, chance fret naught,
take the shot, think thirty aught six, BANG
Big,
nothing like the game, recoil
that's what's missing… recoil,
kick,
to remind you what Newton knew.
Not Issac, Fred Newton, from Weedpatch, Ca,
a few miles this side of Bakersfield…
He, comes up around Thanksgiving,
in the spirit now, since he's dead,
he looks at me and grins, so big.
For me to live, that turkey must die.
old fisher of men, he knew, he'd say
a man's remembered, for the shot,
no turkey ever is,
that's something
to be thankful for.
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 2:43 PM UTC
Mouth pressed on my mouth
Blood falls on snow
Words that buzz through skin
Stir my face
Surface finally engulfs mast
Restored now; it looks the same
First absence of lips
New, chilled air
against pulsing ventricle
A piano whose keys are dusty
Now finger marked
My constituents begin to cluster
With yours
In humid gaps that cleave faces
Back into lines
I can keep what I can grasp
Two glinting shoals have quietly met
In some peaceable black depth
From which air has withdrawn
Press my mouth to that mouth
Blood against fresh snow
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 2:08 AM UTC
Friday Night K-nulcking Under III
<•>
it is a (my) three day weekend
it is now
Saturday late morning
Friday night we went to Joe’s Pub,
you could look it up,
to hear marvelous stories and marvelous singing
then
full stop
homeward bound (apologies Paul),
we swap Lulus for p.j.’s,
and alliterative alternatives
after having bathed and showered
alternatively alternatingly debatingly
the meritocratic merits of bathing methodologies
and our respective but not respectable
technological techniques and sundry technicalities
are peaceable declared tied
we have not left the confines
of public globalist bedding since thenning,
and no plans for departeeing
not even for meals
or anythinging
(ok, barbecue chicken not cool to eat in bed)
multitasking multiplayering
music, poetry, Sunday NY Times,
action movies non-stop,
even napping,
anything
i want,
as I am the only worker bee
celebrating a workless Mondayee
periodically and often, I kiss the
knuckles on either of her hands
and we laugh at my joking insistence
for she vociferously denies,
most badly connives,
that she is
(with a pronounced hard K)
K-nulcking under
to my every demand
as she is equally guiltily
and capable of excellent excessive
leadership in the art of slumbering parteeying,
ergo all good
we still have Monday to resolve an unraging debating,
this unurgent knuckle biting questioning
who is the K-nulcker
and
who is the K-nulckee
~~~
for US citizens only:
We approve this message^
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
The way that we say things can alter how someone takes in information. Our tone and expression show if and how we care. Your natural inclination might be harsh and witty. Is it wise to use that tone with all? If we are to be peaceable you must also exude peace.
Does your arrogance out way your human kindness?
As we grow our thoughts and mindsets change. We adapt to the understanding that we get what we give. There is no doubt I am not a believer in returning the favor or giving a dig for a dig.
As we deal with people we want to see them as precious porcelain. Remembering that we should all be treated with kindness. If we fail to do this, we are teaching and entrenching retaliation and anger. Many use the words, “peace be still”. Sometimes we need to allow our mind and actions just be still and we might gain peace.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:35 AM UTC