"penta" poems
To all my friends
Both near and far
Lifelong friends
And friends of the heart
I wish you joy
Laughter and love
Peace and forgiveness
Like that of above
May the New Year bring you
Comfort and light
May you become
All that you might
Let go of pain
Sadness and scorn
Start each day
As you are reborn
With a grateful heart
And giving soul
You will be blessed
Greater than gold
Lend a hand
To those in need
Comfort the sick
Work with glee
Spread your light
To those who have none
And your New Year will be filled
With nothing but love.
December 24, 2015
Pamela Penta
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
They walk towards me in a line.
They are all wear black cloaks.
{I am asked: Do they have blood red eyes?}
They carry twisted red walking sticks and wear silver masks.
{I am told to call my dragon}
As they walk, they walk around me...
{They are moving on twisted blood, their intent is evil.}
{ Look behind and see what is in the distance}
I look past them to see a tiny white light.
I see water gushing at me but never does it touch me.
{This is a becoming right. do not run, you asked to be closer.}
Where I stand the faces gather closer and closer to me, then stepping back...
I hear no sound for there is none to hear.
{ I close my eyes and talk to dragon, I see them back away.}
I now see double circles on the black floor.
{What is your name in these circles?}
I see Raven Caller.
There is no voice to hear, I see it on the wind/air.
{Are you stronger or weaker here? Are you afraid?}
I feel strength, I feel pulling, my blood hot, being pulled, stinging. Where I am standing is a white very faded rose design.
{You can become the rose cross or penta rose}
The room is now half black and half white, but the white seems to be running like wet paint into the black
{Is there a name in your head you see/hear?}
Yes, Raven Caller
{Is there new symbols within the circles?}
A white heart and a black heart intertwined above the rose I stand on now shows clearly.
{You are bonded...}{RavenCaller}
(This is a dream state) ac
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 6:27 AM UTC
“Honey you got yellow pollen all over your nose!”
exclaimed the cashier at Walmart hurrying to hand me a tissue.
I had stopped to ask her if 4 O’Clocks did well here in florida.
“Oh-h-h” I giggled, “that’s from sniffing the Easter lilies.”
Lately, I have been trying to figure out how to
to add more fragrance to our southern garden.
There is plenty of color, the hibiscus has donned her frilly, coquettish
tangerine and red petticoats
The double begonias are showing off gorgeous salmon pink bonnets
much to the chagrin of their ******** clad penta sisters in
neighboring ceramic pots
Cape May daisies twirling dozens of yellow parasols
caper coyly across the lush terrain
and the newly planted milkweeds hold the promise
of glorious monarch butterflies alighting
on their burgeoning buds
For me the paradise of having a garden
right outside my door is a blessing of
huge proportions
a native New Yorker, I clearly remember
gazing out my window only to be greeted
by another building blocking any scrap of
green or organic color the cluttered urban landscape
had to offer
Thanking the sales lady I dashed off to Lowes
and found a jewel hiding amongst the rows
of spring plants and avid garden shoppers
Star of Tuscany a rose-like jasmine with a
perfume scent only angels could have designed
Whisking her away along with the enchanting
confederate jasmine I hurried home to plant
and welcome our sweet new companions
Later that evening while
swinging in the jhoola at Easter sunset
scarlet, gold and purple hues
cast a glow of hope over the garden of eden
Mother Nature renews herself perennially
shedding all that is not needed or useful
she leaves the sepulcher behind
wrapped in the throes and ecstasy of eternal love
she gives birth to eternal life
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Time again to fly away
To distant land of dreams
To live the life of fantasy
Nothing is as it seems
A distant lover waits for me
To dance among the stars
Anywhere we wish to be
Is never very far
Where rainbows turn to waterfalls
And unicorns to bees
And all we wish will always be
In the land of dreams....
Pam Penta
June 18, 2012
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Into the darkness I have gone
To find that place the one called home
Through the anger, doubt and fear
I tore down walls that brought me near
On cliffs of death and walls of grief
I struggled on to find my peace
For truth be told it's all within
For ones true self is the true friend
And hiding behind the empty space
Is who you are through Gods own Grace
And fighting through to find yourself
Is where freedom lies and happiness dwells
Giving up is not a choice
Let the world see you and hear your voice
You are not meant to live in chains
Find yourself, release the pain
Break down the walls that hide your soul
Let out your truth and then you'll know
All you ever wished from life
Was always there, right inside
For you yourself have the power to be
To unlock the chains and set yourself free.
March 16, 2013
Pam Penta
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
Broken mirrors
Broken glass
Shattered memories
Of a long lost past
Fractured pieces
Of a former life
Bring untold pain
And bitter strife
Mangled spirit
Raging dreams
Fighting hard
To know what it means
Losing sight
Of where I am
Holding on...
If I can
Broken glass
Broken heart
Breaking me down
Tearing me apart
Missing you
Is killing me
Take me Now
I don't want to be
Left alone
Without you here
Is simply more
Than I can bare.
Broken memories
Broken dreams
Life without you
Is worse than it seems.
Pam Penta
June 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
but never was it mentioned that the title Satan be given a seal, a role of defender, except with the 72 names - as stated: השׁטן - see! no geometric sensibility! hence the defender of tetragrammatical sensibility, beyond the Pythagorean quasi-trinity, and only one part of the hexagon of David... the 20th century searched for so long for a penta-grammaton it lost it ahead of searching for it... no five letters were suited to put coinage for the task ahead... the apparent enemy soon became the defender of what so many thought to inquire about, but were given the elocution treatment sooner than any metric unit of ego via id-slicing became apparent to reveal the spiral against the ladder of ascent; the spiral of meditative nonchalance and idiotic self-esteem preserving continuum.
as a book riddled with metaphors
that the book of Genesis is,
you'd expect the fruit of knowledge
between good & evil to
be something more than merely ********
and ******** or Dobberman Pischner's ears -
given Rottweiler's aesthetic revision
of the tail; but it isn't - it's just that -
a Prince of Egypt would only write a polite book
to match the circumstance of insurrection -
and only that - but given pornographic matching
this modern libido has to over-fuck and become
under-warring, you can cease using the techniques
of a banished art-form, and thus stop calling
it a fruit of knowledge as in metaphor,
and by crude tongue say what it is...
only metaphors require translation in poetry
without a secondary tongue -
and with the internet we bypassed the censors
and the editors, and the authorities of what could
or ought bring profit... they really do under-estimate
what is non-profitable but necessary for
the palette, in literary terms some ditto as "truth"
(oh, there it is), but in culinary terms: salt & pepper.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
you've heard of the greeks, they stated the tetra elements,
hardly a word to combine them
given the penta: electricity that replaced fire,
when Zeus ****** his rod into the earth
and out sprung electron linear from
what people supposed to be orbits and clouds.
and i'm sure you heard of the pentagon
of the sigma of man, via the five senses.
but i ask you, how many nerves are there?
to equate nerves with senses, sight and hearing
and feeling, we'd require to attribute
empathy, sympathy, apathy as among them...
compassion? like Marcus Aurelius asking
as to how he would be remembered:
philosopher... tyrant? i'm just wondering how
many nerves there are; are there a pentagonal
resemblance with the senses, or a tetra resemblance
of the elements? i can proclaim an infinity of
synapse roads and alleys and highways, motorways,
but i need to know a perfect categorical incubator
of the number of nerves... surely they ought to
reflect the senses... at this moment i have only
three: empathy, sympathy and apathy...
and indeed all spell out the root leverage
leading toward the tree of pathology -
then indeed there must be another trail guided by
the revelation of -logy rather than -pathy...
but there are too many to choose from,
e.g.: biology, psychology, etc.... it must be specific
and essential... if the -pathy root is stating verbs,
then the -logy root must also describe verbs (activities);
precursor atheism as argument for both
the non-existence of god, as indeed the soul -
synonymous implementation for the word
with psychologism, rather than a firm stirrup logic.
how many times brooding over a certain logic?
esp. in calculus or esp. in arithmetic,
how these numbers ploy a demise, to say
12 + 30 + 2 are akin to sentencing to the invisible glue
or lettering equally confidant units of usage:
br + av + e? what are the logical nerves after having
established the pathological ones?
i don't know at this moment, decidedly,
to have been governed by four elements and adding
a fifth, to have five senses and the sixth in hexagonal
deviations of the unseen... how many nerves are we
to attribute man?
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 12:05 AM UTC
The color has been stripped from the world
In shades of black and gray
I watch the world move away.
Screams of hatred fill the space
As others move out of line, or slow down the race.
"You are unworthy, to eat, to drink, to live!"
"You are everything I am not, how dare you ask me to give!"
The rich get richer, as the poor die away.
Money and greed are now the way
Doors locked at night, with secrets behind
People walk past, as if they are blind
Streets lined with homeless, most veterans of war
"Don't ask me for help, or knock on my door!"
Children are hurt, some left to die.
Emotions are rare, not many cry.
Or hurt for those who don't have enough
Or don't have it in them to always be tough.
We look down on them as burdens, not fair
Instead of lending a hand, learning to share
The values we preach, are seldom carried through
We have forgotten we are one. You are I, and I am you.
Take care of each other.
September 2, 2018
Pamela Penta
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC
No one listens to another's pain
The subtle ways it shows
A tear in an eye of a smiling face
True happiness, never shows
A glance away, when you mention a name
Hand to the heart, at a song
A heavy sadness follows them
Forever, trying to be strong
We don't pay attention, to the look in the eye
When a memory crosses their mind
That rips out their soul, and tortures them
To their suffering, we are blind
Never judge another's path
You do not know what they do
What it takes, every day
To try to be normal like you
Pam Penta
7/16/19
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 10:13 AM UTC