"presuming" poems
Features, my reflection—
subtle hints stare back offering wordless reply,
their evidence a betrayal of age.
A wrinkle looking deeper,
mane of face, of head—hairs
fresh lacking pigment.
Vain attempts made to mend heart,
to sooth soul's dread.
Testimony of experience
of wisdom, persistence, perception,
an impotent contraceptive, the argument
aberrant.
Regret to cloud memory, my youth
seeming a flesh and blood cliche.
Tiny footnotes heavy with prose,
words in bold
to distract mind's eye—a demand of attention.
Edging out tomb's more beautiful weight
of love and heartache
of passion's attempt failing,
to try again, sinking before succeeding.
An era's dusk and dawn anew, life's advent
unpredictable—without cause changing.
Notion hanging lingering, poisoning future,
the venom of defeat an insidious invasion.
This new age creeping toward night
in this stage my life's sun less bright.
Maturity's introduced responsibility,
some enjoyable while others to own hostility.
A brigand mugging freedom—time for leisure.
Spurring combat for what remains of youth,
fingers wrapping air in futile seizure.
The inevitable to command subservience,
presuming ownership of life, though the mature
demonstrate the defiance of the immature.
Objects, activities, music assaulting ear,
their manner,
symbols of strict adherence to who once was—
a spiteful surrender refusal.
A piece of me defining me until no more,
years holding power—threatening
to change who I am at very core.
Canvas construction the colour of murre,
rubber toe caps the shade of pure.
Design worn since youth, dead and resurrected;
a million mile shoe of valorous resistance—insurrection,
a Converse rebellion.
In torment of age's scars,
I'll never be too old to wear my All Stars.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Airplanes flying in the dead of the night
Looking like blinking lights in the sky
Mistaking them for stars lost in space
Moving to meet with distance
Slowly reaching hoping to find its existence
But all we get is an unrequited chance
Presuming the truth we don’t want to face
It’s not fantasy just a new breed of reality
Now they disappeared to a far off place
And all you see are twinkling stills in the dark
Ignoring the city and its neon signs flashing
You care only for the bliss you wish you had
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
910
Experience is the Angled Road
Preferred against the Mind
By—Paradox—the Mind itself—
Presuming it to lead
Quite Opposite—How Complicate
The Discipline of Man—
Compelling Him to Choose Himself
His Preappointed Pain—
5.6k
O happy rose-bud blooming
Upon thy parent tree,--
Nay, thou art too presuming;
For soon the earth entombing
Thy faded charms shall be,
And the chill damp consuming.
O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
Too gladsome in thy singing,
Thou also soon shalt lie
Where no sweet notes are ringing.
And through life's shine and shower
We shall have joy and pain;
But in the summer bower,
And at the morning hour,
We still shall look in vain
For the same bird and flower.
4.3k
On rising heat, killdeer flush
to decoy enemy--
threat to its young that roams too close
They rush to skim on hayish blur
wailing over wildflowers drying
Fretful twitter in perpetual flight
swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies--
debris
from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky
toward a ridge of stag horn sumac
presuming horizon primordial
behind which time and city-- drift and wobble
on rising heat-- after rush hour
Rising Heat
Rising--
to meet my mind
on its way down
from my post behind
the laundromat
where I view it all--
rising--
where I usually go in search of quiet
to almost hear the ocean
two hundred miles away
to strain words from wind
in careless conversation
to wonder over
missed whispers....
But not today
In rising heat, I went down
in search of something better--
your eyes again
solvent for my presence of mind
dissolvers of hours and the order of things
But I need an excuse!
To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!
For your eyes again!
And still I need more-- being feverish, weak
Or?
Or... should I take the cure?
To deny ...To deny
To deny what?
Overtones from a sea of years?
I don't know! Whatever it was!
Nothing explain it...
I melt... I'm gone....
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
*blondes, brunettes and redheads,
the goodbye colors of the
street's tree choir members
and their leafy gowned denizens,
the good stiff chill upon them,
the selfsame chill
in my anguished mind
now hiding,
sing a comfort food song
heard above the quiet terror of the
noises of a fall winters-wind precursor
"once we green,
once we were renewal,
life everlasting emblems
once,
you were wee,
green uncaring and free,
presuming that you too,
were in possession of
life everlasting
your colors have changed as well,
endless is the process,
only slower than
a tree's scheduled maintenance,
moreover,
returning you to your first
crayon drawing youth
unlike us, an impossibility
we will turn young again
for many seasons more,
you
never will
new eyes will feast upon our
glories refreshed and love our
cast shade cast
yet special are you the man,
poet who was chosen
to see and tell,
witness to our resurrection,
during our overlapping,
parallel continuum in time
when to the shade of hades
you physic sent,
our limbs, our leaves,
our perennial lives,
for-as-long-as-they-shall-last,
will cover thy remains and
give your poems back to the
sultry summer breeze from
whence they came
and the colors
of your words
will be the colors
of a free life everlasting"*
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
A brilliant blaze high in the sky
banishing the shy clouds away
revealing the purest of hues, a bright blue.
A single magpie flies nearby
I wish it didn't stay
as one for sorrow is very true
I suspected the sky to suddenly cry
for nature to obey, ruining my day
receiving the misery due
Instead the sun refused to comply
the single magpie it did disobey
And a second magpie came, as if on cue
With two magpie it did imply
what a joy will be today
Two are rarely a rue
To quick was I to jump to the negative
presuming the worst, my fatal imperative
Because when they go to fly
My happiness won't die
I don't need to anchor my well being on what I see
Cause all I need to enjoy life is me
I watch the two magpies now with amusement
soaking in this wondrous moment
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Where did all the colour come
from in the world?"She ask's her dad.
(presuming that because Tv was in
black and white once,
that the world was too.)
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
I am the friend in between
Who will be summoned to take a side
When one will be less than keen
And save the other from a landslide.
It will be unconceivable
For me to give unbiased answers
If one were to ask for advice and counsel
Presuming that I can pick a winner.
Though reluctant to take a step back
There is a reason why I am against
My judgement will never be on track
By getting involved in this case.
I am implicated in some way
Even if it is not my story to tell
With luck, it was Cupid I had to play
Because being a referee will not end well.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 4:00 AM UTC
On rising heat, killdeer flush
to decoy the enemy--
threat to its young that roams too close
They rush to skim on hayish blur
wailing over wildflowers drying
Fretful twitter in perpetual flight
swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies--
debris
from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky
toward a ridge of stag horn sumac
presuming horizon primordial
behind which time and city-- drift and wobble
on rising heat-- after rush hour
*Rising Heat
Rising--
to meet my mind
on its way down
from my post behind
the laundromat
where I view it all--
rising--
where I usually go in search of quiet
to almost hear the ocean
two hundred miles away
to strain words from wind
in careless conversation
to wonder over
missed whispers....
But not today
In rising heat, I went down
in search of something better--
your eyes again
solvent for my presence of mind
dissolvers of hours and the order of things
But I need an excuse!
To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!
For your eyes again!
And still I need more-- being feverish, weak
Or?
Or... should I take the cure?
To deny ...To deny
To deny what?
Overtones from a sea of years?
I don't know! Whatever it was!
Nothing explain it...
I melt... I'm gone....*
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC
Before the mist cleared and the gates opened
A bright star shot straight up in the heavens
emanating freedom fiercely
A dark dragon followed...stalking his prey
The star flew and flew with uncharted speeds
Until it reached the edge of the universe
The dragon mimicked every move of the star
Through and through to that mysterious edge
As the dragon approached the star he became puzzled
Presuming that the star had been chaste
Only to find a grinning blade in the fangs of Sirius
The cunning companion of Orion
Now the two stood tall, eye to eye
Each roar echoed throughout
A flash and blast, collision beyond grasp
Then the dragon took flight after seeing his own fears
For the wolf's heart was pure
Which reflected the dragon's demons
Disturbing the dragon's focus
exposing his true nature
The dragon blew flames ablaze behind at the wolf as he took to the sky
Only to have them brush away from the incandescent, invulnerable fur and flame of the star
The beast took hold of the dragon's tail by his claws and climbed to it's head
With a strike of ferocity the star came down with the dragon's eyes
As the wolf stood strong with his trophy
The dragon did cry and then fell in a frenzy down the edge of reality
The wolf gave the eyes to his sons
So that dragon would have to beg or fight a wolf
If he were to ever gain his eyes into this world again
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
He tries hard hidden in the harbor,
gazing at the deserted creek presuming,
the shallow water shows their shapes.
The thin thread he ****** into the water thoroughly vanished.
Weighed down with wonder.
He wheels in the well-weighted gnawing fish.
Defiled by the death drops down.
He knew not the fish nor flesh, he knelt
Honest offers originated over his grotesque tragedy.
Praying pin points his pleas importance.
Changing his choices taken contributed to his vegetarianism.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:52 AM UTC
Back at the shore, at the interface, I tried, once, to be free.
I found a human animal there, hidden beneath the sea.
It stared, defiant, back at me, perplexed to be observed.
It had no need for company,
It had no need for words.
I felt unable to understand,
Understanding all too well.
The pain within the heart of man,
The pain they buy and sell.
I spoke aloud, though, anyway,
I thought I knew those eyes,
Believed my voice could make a change,
In other creature's lives.
"You're hurt", I said, to the ocean waves,
"Why hide beneath the sea?"
"You're a fool", it said, "presuming that",
"There's something wrong with me"
"Go back to where it's warm and dry,"
"Just walk away from here."
"The water gives me all I need."
"Spare me your hope and fear".
Perhaps", I said, "We all are broken,"
"To some extent, in body; soul..."
I saw my own, afraid but happy,
So unbroken as to seem whole.
It shouted at me once I had left,
We would never meet again.
Then whispered an unheard, but felt,
Admission to the pain.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
When you walk into a room
Your essence glows light a light.
Your smell wipes out all the gloom,
And everything feels so right.
Your hugs are like a warm blanket,
And your love falls out like snowflakes.
Is this as close as we can get?
Oh, and when you speak, my earth shakes.
You have got the most caring heart,
And the best smile to prove it.
The world turns cold when our hands part.
Was there ever a more perfect fit?
There’s an adventure dancing in your eyes,
A wild man full of too much love.
In your eyes is where the truth lies,
The truth so pure like a white dove.
Your eyes portray the most intense event,
All the action scenes rolled into one.
With a strong love that can’t be bent
And all the burning desire of the sun.
Your hands are as sweet as candy.
Never presuming; always caring.
Your lips are quite a mystery,
But are, oh so, senselessly daring.
Your words always float in my mind,
A conscience to be my right guide,
Like Jiminy right by my side.
It’s to you alone I confide.
Conversation is such a key.
I could talk with you forever.
Oh, how content I would be.
Forget your lovely words? Never!
You’ll demolish all my pains,
My apothecary for all.
Part of you runs through my veins.
You help me stand firm and tall.
How can I get rid of you?
You alone have turned me upside down.
You have made me all brand new.
My inner self is who I have found.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 1:00 AM UTC
520
I started Early—Took my Dog—
And visited the Sea—
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me—
And Frigates—in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands—
Presuming Me to be a Mouse—
Aground—upon the Sands—
But no Man moved Me—till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe—
And past my Apron—and my Belt—
And past my Bodice—too—
And made as He would eat me up—
As wholly as a Dew
Upon a Dandelion’s Sleeve—
And then—I started—too—
And He—He followed—close behind—
I felt his Silver Heel
Upon my Ankle—Then my Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl—
Until We met the Solid Town—
No One He seemed to know—
And bowing—with a Might look—
At me—The Sea withdrew—
1.3k
Dear "adults",
I hate it when you look down on those of us in high school,
As if there's some sort of unspoken rule
That the time we spend in such a place
Is supposed to be sublime.
"Stop complaining."
I'm sorry, I assumed that when you asked about my day
I wasn't supposed to mask what I say
And tell you that everything is swell.
To what extent will you dismiss my discontent
Toward the discipline with hardly any discipline nowadays?
"You'll miss it. Just wait until you get into the real world."
The "real world"?
Why, suddenly, is my world not real enough for you?
From all I've been through in my life,
High school has presented me with the most strife, and so
Since when is a bit of resentment
Unjustified?
The nerve you pride
Yourself in having, presuming
That there is any amount of artificiality in my reality
Is infuriatingly consuming.
How can you think we could make any sense
Of the difficulties surrounding anything but what we've experienced?
This I cannot comprehend.
But maybe you want us to pretend?
"How was school today?"
Oh, it was okay.
I only dealt with misunderstanding,
The pressure of classes being so demanding,
The difficulty of self consciousness
That is amplified each day by bullies' relentlessness.
I only endured mental exhaustion
From switching subjects each hour, without option.
I simply struggled with your expectation
That colleges should long to give me an invitation,
Even though I'm being forced to commit to
A life plan I've made based off the little I've been through.
School is a privilege, we know,
Yet, so is possessing a job.
So why, then, am I a snob,
When you're allowed to 'complain'?
I realize that life could be much worse for me,
And someday high school might seem like a breeze,
But until the day comes when I become aware
That the troubles of high school cannot compare,
Let me have my time to vent, please.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
You tell me that you're my best friend
You've come to that conclusion on your own
Without asking me how I felt
About you presuming you know me so well
You don't know half of me
Believe me, I'll never tell
We talk about our past
Our future
Our present
You say "you turned out okay"
I'm glad I come off that way
But honestly my dear,
You don't know
You don't know about my storms
You don't know about my darkness
You don't know about my climb
You don't know about my descend
**** you if you think you're my best friend**
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
As I lean upon the boardwalk
Gazing at the beautiful blue sea
I listen to the clash of roaring waves
They talk to me in ravenous voices
While spiraling winds provide them
With such close, inviting company
My ears become alert and peeled
My senses are alert to its extremity
I come to think to myself, asking,
"Is there a spirit in the waters?"
I pinched myself followed by a slap
"Man I'm tripping", I tell myself
Then yet there's the voices again
This time I catch the words
"Come with us, join us now",
They said with such conviction
I shake my head in bewilderment
Asking myself "Am I dreaming?
As water splashed upon me I hear,
"You belong with us, come hither"
I began to turn around and run
Yet, at the end of the boardwalk
I spot a blazing wall of fire
So I race down the other direction
And in my way was a wall of wind
They began to enclose on me
I stand there confused, but fearless
As I stand there presuming lethargic
I say within a quick stutter
"Wh what is the meaning of this?"
"Wh what do you want from me?"
They voices began to say altogether,
"We are apart of your conscience"
"Come stay with us and be free"
"You don't belong here"
I say to them, "Belong where?"
They speak in synchronized word,
"HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE"
And I ask "What do you mean?"
And they then say to me,
"Here in the outside world"
"Let us free ye of this dungeon"
"Get thee hence from this place"
Then suddenly.... I closed my eyes
As I opened them, they were gone
Everything was back to normal
I looked around, nothing was there
The walls of fire and wind, gone..
I was still leaning on the boardwalk
As for the waves, they were calmed
And I never seen the sky so clear
I realized in between my talk
A conversation with my conscience
The message it was giving out
I know now what it was offering
In my state of inebriation
Dreary as I look across the coastline
I said to myself, "Now I get it"
"I see what my conscience meant"
Beyond a brush of virtual reality
Within my mindful verisimilitude
My conscience was telling me
To leave the physical world
Be free of all corruption
To be happy and from now on...
LIVE INSIDE MY HEAD.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
The clock is ticking
...
And it's time
...It's time
It's time that we get our act together
And disengage ourselves from the miseducation and disorientation
That we have been suffering from for quite some time now.
I'm tired
... I'm tired
I'm tired of witnessing the sentences of the corrupted minds chained up to face the consequences of their crimes
By trading in their freedom
Trading in their wisdom
For wasted time
I'm sighing
...I'm sighing
I'm sighing because me and my people are blinded by the quote on quote finest
Presuming to purchase from producers
Why are we only consumers?
Just followers of every mindless introducer who is on the screen rhyming steadily binding our youth's futures
I'm crying
...I'm crying
I'm crying for the losses of our precious souls, our beautiful smiles that are buried beneath the ground
By a repetitive loud sound
Coming out of another hand that is brown
I find it
... I find it
I find it aggravating that the colored brother and sister are becoming further and further lacerated
Just because me and my brothers underwent emasculation doesn't mean that we should stall on our sisters complete emancipation
LOVE HER and free her from all agitation
These are our mothers and the foundations of our nation
I'm reminded
... I'm reminded
I'm reminded of our history, our lengthy history which to most of us is a mystery
Way before Arabs, Europeans, Hispanics, and American Natives got creative and began to enslave us.
Before our spirits became diminished by religion
We valued family, tradition, education, productivity, ownership, land, earth and everything that take part in a birth
Most importantly we valued LOVE
So I'm dying
... I'm dying
I'm dying because we are so reliant and dependent on someone who is much more different and much less interested
Our declension is their intentions
But when we see the illusion on the television
We see a little succession
Why is it that we can easily make the team or get in the studio to sing
But to become a businessmen is not quite our thing?
I'm dying
Because we all just living a dream
A dream that was once our reality
I'm dying
Because we are all asleep
I'm dying
Because we are afraid to wake up
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Presuming on your goodness,
Believing in your ability,
Perceiving you will not break me.
Willing to obey your instructions,
Hoping you will teach me,
Waiting impatiently.
A thirst for learning is a virtue,
E’en when paired with impatience,
right?
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 6:42 PM UTC
I UPSET MY DAD SO MUCH IN NOVEMBER 2013, AND HE DIED THE FOLLOWING MARCH
AND WE HAD THIS STUPID LITTLE FIGHT, ABOUT ME SPENDING ALL MY MONEY
BECAUSE I GET THE IMPRESSION, THAT MUM AND DAD, BELIEVE IN REFORM AND
REFORM ALIKE, I DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO SAY BE LIKE US, ALL THE TIME, I LIKE
PEOPLE, I LIKE THE COMPUTER AGED NEW AGE PEOPLE, THEY ARE REALLY COOL
AND WHAT I AM SAYING, WHEN DAD DIED, DOING SOMETHING HE HAS NEVER SUFFERED FROM BEFORE, I TRIED TO KEEP DAD ON A LEASH, WELL
IT'S BECAUSE I AM CRONUS, AND I WANT TO GIVE HIM AN AWARD FOR NOT BRINGING HIS OLD FOGIE
AT MY DINNER TABLE, THOUGH HE TRIED, AND JUST THE OTHER DAY, I
PUT DADS PICTURE WITH BUDDHA ALONG WITH HIS NEXT LIFE, ELIZABETH CAMPBELL, SO I CAN LET DAD GO FROM MY LEASH, AND GIVE ME THE PICTURE
OF HIS WHOLE NEXT REINCARNATION, TWINNED UP WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS
BUT I LOOK AT THIS PHOTO, WHEN I MISS MY FATHER DEARLY, I WANT TO LET
DAD FLY OVER AND WORK ON GIVING HIS NEXT LIFE ELIZABETH CAMPBELL
A CHANCE TO IMPROVE THE LIFE CYCLE, I JUST MISS MY FATHER HE WAS A GOOD BLOKE, DESPITE OUR ARGUMENTS, I WRITE THIS, CAUSE I WANT TO BE REFORMED
FROM FIGHTING THE ADULTS
A VOICE IN MY HEAD SAID, WE DON'T WANT YA TO BE REFORMED, I SAID
WHY NOT, IS IT BECAUSE I LIKE FISH AND CHIPS, CAUSE I DO
I LIKE POETRY SLAMS CAUSE I DO
I LIKE FOOTY AND ALL SPORTS CAUSE I DO
I LOOK AT LIFE AS BEING ONE BIG ADVENTURE, CAUSE I DO
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME TRYING TO BE A LIKEABLE FIGURE
CAUSE I AM, I DON'T WANT TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT MY VOICES ARE SAYING
I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A LITTLE COOL KID TO A TEASE
AND BEING YEAH MATED AT, JUST BECAUSE, I LIKE COMPUTERS
I LIKE COMPUTERS FOR THE INTERNET, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX A COMPUTER
BUT I KNOW HOW TO UPLOAD, CAUSE I DO
I HATE BEING TREATED LIKE A TRYING TO BE LIKE OTHER PEOPLE KIND OF PERSON
IT MAKES ME FEEL WEIRD
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
1249
The Stars are old, that stood for me—
The West a little worn—
Yet newer glows the only Gold
I ever cared to earn—
Presuming on that lone result
Her infinite disdain
But vanquished her with my defeat
’Twas Victory was slain.
1k
We walked on fields of hellish amber,
our bare toes scraping barbed wire.
we held our naked palms out flat
so that they might feel the air thick with dust.
We walked in the black rain, dying our hair a sooty grey
and leaving vertical wrinkles on our cheeks.
We walked towards the end.
We watched the phoenix plumes rise up
then crescendo in an extinguishing fire.
we saw the mountains crumble, as if tired,
and lay in purplish rest.
We saw the shining sea stir against the coasts
and eat back the Earth.
We touched hands,
and we walked towards the end.
We saw a billion mouths demanding, reprimanding,
consuming and presuming, quiet to a hum.
We saw them crumple on driveways and in shopping malls,
murmuring so many names to the same effect.
They were still then,
but we,
we walked towards the end.
We trudged in our clothes,
shreds of some past life
we left there in the ashes.
We walked under the studded sky pierced by skyscrapers,
peeling back as easily as skin.
There, the torn fabric waltzed in a hissing breeze,
burning orange at the bulging seams.
Lopsided stars hung askew as decorations
and cartwheeled to the steady rythmn of gunfire.
Swaying, we danced along,
as we walked towards the end.
Scorched prairie grass crumbled beneath our feet.
Ringing filled us, and we broke cleanly in two.
Asphalt melted and mingled with the crust
and buildings knelt to pray.
We laid down side by side,
brushing our fingertips.
The sky bled lukewarm tears above us.
We knitted our hands together
and unfolded ourselves upon packed dirt,
black and singed,
as angels stitched the lacerated heavens.
We rested, tiny scars on Earth's craggy face.
We nicknamed every star and every worm,
orange with nuclear light.
Laughing, we closed our eyes,
flowing with the fire and the night.
Our hands were sure and firm,
as we drifted out of sight,
fading towards the end.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
"two birthday presents are better than one"
sayings of the wise men
*"and what an honor it is, and how could we be anything greater
(than all too human)?"
R.A.*
~
for Rebecca, a birthday gift
~
a message of notification,
comes early one evening, an agent provocateur,
a paparazzi peeping tom,
a cat burglar presuming the poet-receiver nat is
a rat-man out and about, galavanting around town,
dancing perhaps, seeing a Pinter play, a movie,
a lecture on string theory, an underground railroad rock concert,
reading a book of priestly poetry, or himself,
lost in a mesmerizing revery of poetic composition
her question, a statement of fact, a reflection,
one or all, all for one, this pronunciation,
a witness deposition re the human condition
the man is knocked askew in about
an instantly,
sitting before the voluptuous fireplace's crackling complications,
fire sensing the multiples of implications,
contemplating the failing honor of human limitations,
sensing the uniqueness of our successes,
a claiming race prize
for all of we humans
in her words
now how great is this knowledge that we,
all to human,
all too human,
need let this then be the first
thought/ message/ notification -
meditation of our every day
that we honor ourselves first,
our upstart blessing,
in order to honor our world
and its bedazzling human creativity
~
We find our poems in many different ways. Of late,
I keep finding inspiration from the messages that many of you send to me, re the poems I choose to publish here. So I repeat my disclaimer, "any message you send can and will be used as a poem."
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
The silhouette of a fallen man lay on the vertical horizon
¬–watch the Moon light the way
Vultures howl at the hint of Death
–Dead men are deaf, on the vertical horizon
Some light will always shine through a closed curtain
–open up and let it all in
Dilation ensures that the waters are steady
but on the vertical horizon, nothing is certain
A silhouette of descending doves falls onto the ground
–watch the Moon shed his tears
Poachers of Peace ascend the vertical horizon,
now presuming the ultimate power of God
Only Time will tell
if they were right or wrong
But patience is virtuous
and this won’t take very long
The silhouette of a fallen man lay on the vertical horizon
–imagine that his soul is free
His figure parts into a million grieving doves,
ascending beyond the brim of the vertical horizon
Only Time will tell
if he was right or wrong
But patience is a virtue
and this won’t take very long
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC