"prospering" poems
one day, on the highest mountains i will stand
i will leap through a valley of sunflowers
fresh breeze of the meadow winding my hair
i
will
wade out
for the finest galaxy
a million years away
clouds of hope spur the abyss of space as they spur within me
brightest stars, illuminate the dark
radiant warmth, growing in my bones
i will parade through mist of the ocean, prospering.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,
He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!
We shall march prospering,—not through his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
One more triumph for devils and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life’s night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we pierce through his own;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!
2.3k
Dear FutureMe,
I hope you are happy. Your mom is still with you and Anuj, well I hope he's with you as well. I hope you're ready to go sailing with your Sailor. I hope you were successful in all that you did even though you had some bad times and tired ones too. I hope you worked hard enough so as to make your mom's new school prosper in all ways. I hope you're still in love with coffee and him. I hope you have more confidence in you and still like wearing all that you love to wear. I hope you tried loosing the pooch ahaha well if you did have the time to do that. I hope after seeing this you'd be a little more happier if you already are and a little more hopeful if you're sad. And even if you're not following your dreams I hope you've made new ones and prospering in that too! I hope you still love yourself as much as you do now. Be strong you!
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
Dreaming, of you every night,
Nights of seeing a rabbit riding on the moon,
Dreams of waking to your the words, “Good morning dear one.”
Waking to the smell of roasting coffee,
Hungry for fried rice and Doenjang soup,
Dreams of us living in the palace of prospering virtue,
Dreaming of watching the sunrise in this ancient place,
While holding hands and walking through our secret garden,
Dreams, of a beautiful dark haired woman,
Dreams of us growing old together,
Watching our grandchildren fly without wings higher than magpies,
Dreaming our dreams come true.
Copyright © 2015 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC
Soft rhythmic ticking of a mechanical heart,
You scream for silence,
But she ticks on.
You stand still,
Bathing in the winter sun,
Burning in the blinding snow,
Which way do we go?
Which route do we take.
It's a straight shot to the other side from here,
Formless spirits tempt you with dreams.
Break enough rules,
And they will crown you Eagle King,
Soaring above the common man,
In self appointed wings,
You watch everything,
You look down upon the lesser flightless creatures.
Dust covered unopened books fill up the library,
Once a prospering civilization,
They have been reduced to brainwashed moths,
They go where the light takes them.
Watchful eyes cover the walls of this city,
Every movement tracked,
Every voice heard,
Everyone watched.
The night offers the promise of freedom,
Climb the wall and escape,
The world is new,
The world is you.
Three hundred miles away,
Your ****** feet leave a trail,
The vultures are waiting.
Feast your eyes on the magic of a new power,
A golden city with candles afloat,
Sand haired women with velvet dresses
Watch you from across the street,
You're a stranger among them,
Prepare your eyes for the fall of life,
They hold a banquet
To celebrate the meeting of the wolf and man,
It starts to pour as they touch.
Unanswered prayers hum in the air,
Suspended on the strings of doubt,
They have been returned to the sender.
Across the firepit,
Six sick savages mock the fiddler,
The music stops, words are exchanged,
And there's blood.
Six shades of red fluid,
Creeping slowly to fuel the fire that stares.
I've had enough.
I retire to my tent and someone's waiting,
I am the eagle king,
Her red hair paints the sheets red,
My thoughts go back to the six shades
I witnessed moments ago.
There's a murderer on the loose,
I didn't ask for this.
Set off into the night
Towards the temples of the East,
I may find my peace,
In a little corner of the marble city,
Bow down to the idols like sheep in the crowd,
The blade comes swiftly,
I felt no pain.
The sacrifice has been made,
There's no more waiting now,
You'll have your answer in the mail tomorrow.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Look kindly upon us
As we stand in your shadow.
Limbs outstretched,
Calm but forever reaching,
Searching,
For new things untold.
Prospering in unison.
Unspoken harmony.
Sharing,
Communicating
Not through words,
Nor war, nor wares.
But through feeling and knowing.
Loving in purest form.
Ever-embraced,
Entwined as one.
Everlasting.
Take back what is yours.
But look kindly upon us
For the few will stand tall in your honour,
And your world will rest once more.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC
You are peppermint:
Red hair, green eyes, white skin
peppered with polka dots.
And I, a pagan, passive and pathetic,
whose paramour is a ******* paladin
with a perfect face, parted pout and
perfumed persecution, perpetuated by
parliamentary parents who prevent you from prospering.
And I have to pitch a poker face
Pretend that your painted pair of lips pressed on my cheek
do not paralyze me, peach turned pink
over a precious peck.
So what is the purpose behind your pretense?
The pointless promiscuity, part time passion,
and I'm patient--
but god--
let me pamper you, pageant-curls princess,
forget the prestige in your pedigree,
let this penniless pauper into your palace.
You are picturesque, purely portrait-worthy,
But your painted claws perforated my paper skin,
and all I wanted was to make you purr.
*(but I don't have a *****
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
as we're planting the seeds of love
we'll harvest a bounty
ah how rich it will be
reaping love's field of plenty
our seeds will be
in a well furrowed patch
so our juices of love
will finely hatch
sowing the seeds of love
a surplus we'll fetch
there will be a booming bonus
in our love ketch
the time is ripe
for our sowing
to begin
our seeds of love
are in the touch
of our skin
seeds
of
love
prospering
seeds
of
love
we'll
be
fostering
in our bed
a harvest
shall grow
as we plant
the seeds of love
in a fruitful row
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
i love you.
so much more now than i ever have.
for the incredulous love, passion, and sentiment that you have held.
for the heartbreak, self imprisonment, and emotional torment you have
been dragged into.
not because your soul has made it out even more beautiful than before,
but because of how you have grown.
i love you.
for prospering in a world where others only told you
that you couldn't do it
or it wasn't practical.
because you are growing older now,
and it is no longer about the outside voices.
it is about what makes your heart throb
your body shake
and your bones rattle.
because someday,
you will look back and regret
every moment that you did not cherish.
so stay here
right here
where i can always
love you.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 6:41 PM UTC
Where the blue of sky
tosses the dream within ones eye
and opens the pastoral fields of life
amidst the strife, the rife
that here upon the land bears
shares
the tormented moments, the smiles
that crossed the miles and miles
where frontier pried open the dream
upon these wildest green
fields of their prosperity.
They journey a faith
a belief
and took life as would a thief
into their own rights of being
seeing
freedoms expanse there abound
gathered round
the old stories of their homes
Miles away, miles away
from where the root and birth
did inspire
here within them that desire
to reach out and there grasp
the very breath of which they gasp.
Time draws fast the privileges few,
herein drew
the straws of fate
the opened gate
to shower as best destiny it can
the prospects within each human hand.
History retells the story
praises the great with the holy
and draws the prospering fields a plenty
of the days of man threescore and twenty.
To cry into this wilderness , here their name
forgotten sons of forgotten fame.
Birthed now the dream
where grass of blue
filled the hue
of the Kentuckian.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 1:50 PM UTC
Strife wields the knife after your rifles raise high,
No need for a biblical sign since it takes only a few to steal the spot-light
And only one to spoil a life,
The notions of potentially prospering a home,
Planting a peaceful place,
Where pigmentation does not define your days,
But the way in which you prove yourself,
Because this is truly an extraordinary species,
Hindered by man’s inherent ignorance,
An internal enemy described as grace,
Barbarians breeding thieves,
Inhibited from sanity,
Inebriated with fury,
Incubated in hatred,
As you continually cultivate such cruel beings,
Some individuals can defy the trend,
Some of Adam’s relatives rose because they knew the knuckles could do so much more than listen to a serpent,
From their roots of savagery,
It’s in the blood to be a parasite,
But it is in the genes to eradicate these devilish deeds,
Imaging the possibility like a dead-head hippy,
The chance to see a society,
Distancing itself from the armory,
Poverty pushes people to find relief via a knife,
Causing those governing eye’s to raise their rifles high,
Forgetting to sight the white of their eyes,
And turning bystanders into enemies.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
/I gotta (Thank God2)..(everyday2)..Aye..,(Imma Thank God2)(Thank God2)..(everday2)...Thank you so much Heavenly Father for always being with me , keeping me strong & surviving..(Thank you so much2)../*2
Aye...
/(I prosper*6)..
Thank You so much...God/*3
Aye..Imma thank God (everyday2)..I gotta (Thank God3)..Yeah, Thank you so much Heavenly Father for always being in front of me, guiding me from wrong & keep me away from harm..,You keep me aware..You keep me strong..That's why I had to write this song to..(thank God3)..(Thank you so much Father2)..Yeah..because of you..
(I prosper6)...I prosper through ever trial & every tribulation..(I prosper3) through all of my stresses, (I prosper3) through all of my sadness, (I prosper3) through all of the depression,.. (I prosper3) through all of the drama.. (I prosper6)...I prosper when they said I wouldn't,..(I prosper3) when they said I couldn't.. (I prosper6)..when nobody ever even believe in me mane Yeah I still, prosper Yeah man..(I prosper3)..because I always believed in myself,.. (I prosper3) with me having hope Yeah.. (I prosper3) because my faith wouldn't let me fail again mane..Yeah..(I prosper6)..
Thank you so much God for giving me so much worth man, we all are worthy of doing something that's life changing...Aye, I always knew I had wealth even when I didn't have a job mane, no income was coming in at all man..so many arguments wit my mama, like babyboy..get on yo grind now.. Uhh writing is my life, writing is my grind dawg..I always knew one day, like right now, it would get me paid by the graces of God..It happen too man,Yeah..(thank God*2) because of God..
(I prosper*6)
So Uhh..I (gotta thank God,2)..(Thank God2)
I gotta give all the praise to Jesus Christ..Yeah..(Thank you so much Father2)..Thank you (so much2)..for always keeping me strong, protected, healthy, & alive..because of you I prosper, I strive..I rise..Aye..
(I prosper6)..,Aye..I prosper so I can educated yall & bless yall spirits with wisdom & knowledge dawg..I'm only giving out blessings through my songs , forget brainwashing, the youth, I want all of my people to fly up to Heaven dude..(& prosper3)..(Yeah prosper3)..Dawg, Yeah we can all prosper if we fight together then..we can. start gaining back our full control,..Instead of living life the wrong way dawg.., let's live life (right2)..Stop letting the Devil attacks make you weak & distract you..just (listen to God*2)..make sure you stay on his path dawg, don't let these demons continue to take over your life, with lies , confuse you or get to you mind mane..Just cast em away..The Lord will defeat them..he already defeated Satan..mane..The government is liars they been plotting a big human extermination, they blinding us wit material lusts so they can do what they did on 9/11 but even much more terror..Yeah Its Time to wake up, rise up & fight back today ..Ayo..Shoutouts to Malcolm X, & Martin..because of them my music is prospering..Aye
(I prosper6)...I prosper through ever trial & every tribulation..(I prosper3) through all of my stresses, (I prosper3) through all of my sadness, (I prosper3) through all of the depression,.. (I prosper3) through all of the drama.. (I prosper6)...I prosper when they said I wouldn't,..(I prosper3) when they said I couldn't.. (I prosper6)..when nobody ever even believe in me mane Yeah I still, prosper Yeah man..(I prosper3)..because I always believed in myself,.. (I prosper3) with me having hope Yeah.. (I prosper3) because my faith wouldn't let me fail again mane..Yeah..(I prosper6)..
(I gotta thank God.. Thank God..Imma thank God..Thank God,Yeah2)..mane..(thank you so much Father yeah2)..for always being there for me protecting me, keeping me strong & alive..Thank you so much Father..because of you.. (I prosper*12)..
(Thank you so much God2)..Thank you so..Thank you so much..Thank you so..Thank you so much..Heavenly Father.. Yeah, Aye..I gotta (Thank God2)..Imma (thank God2)..(everyday2)..Yeah..I gotta (thank God2)..(everyday2)..Imma (Thank God*2)..everyday..
(Imma thank God, Thank God3)... Mane..Yeah..(I gotta thank God..Thank God3)..Thank you so much Father Yeah..Yeah I thank you so much Father, for protecting me, keeping me strong & alive..Yeah..Aye your so awesome.. Because of you (I prosper*6)...Ohh..
(I prosper*6)..Ohh..Yeah....
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Some people don't always know what they're doing
Including me in the congregation
But some know exactly what they're doing
Down with the tunnel snakes
Looking to shake
The acidic bottle
To see how chaotic the peace becomes
I see you, watching how you swindle the naive
You're brilliant, aren't you?
Brilliantly distorted
Eyes like a Hawk
That rarely gawks
At what is in front of me
I see it everywhere
From the mountains of Nepal to the cold, harsh cities of Delaware
People look forward to impair
The full circles, the healthy plant in the desert
Prospering like it should
Don't make me laugh with your intent
You'll make enough dents
But everything will hold like a steel tent
I can jump over any fence
And penetrate any defense
You're able to implement
Don't lower your guard
Regardless of being a race car driver or a Bard
I know sinister yards
and I'm growing in disguise
You won't see it
Until you find yourself in a completed cat and mouse game
How is your game working out now?
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
In a minute, I figure everything out.
I can't believe they want to do this again.
They're still trying to clean up a mess.
Not to mention there are problems over here.
Do they really think they're International Police.
Do they like being the world's biggest gang?
Do they find enjoyment in world wrestling?
Oh, you didn't know that's what it is?
Surely if you look in the past you can see.
Everytime we enter a region it happens.
They plan to "help reform" but create motives.
These motives keep them from prospering.
So they decide to leave.
Leaving behind death, famine, poverty, and hate.
I hope this stops, I really do.
I made a promise long ago.
I won't point fingers.
I won't say names.
But I don't think I need to.
It's not hard to see.
I've figured it all out.
And you can too.
It's not the world thats bad.
It's them.
They run, but ruin this world.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:33 AM UTC
Determination strikes so occasionally for me,
As if prospering only in the strictest of conditions,
But when it does sprout up from nowhere,
My head is filled with so many visions.
I see a course ahead of me traveled by many,
But conquered by very few,
And my probability to succeed is not greater,
That seems to be true.
But I feel like no road worth paving
Will manage to pave itself.
A book does not find its own way
Onto the tall, looming bookshelf.
The pavement must be my doing,
For the result to be worthwhile;
I have not always accepted this,
But then I was in denial.
If you are complacent,
And expect your road to unfold,
You will grow very frustrated as nothing happens,
And you will only become old.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
Playing cards, a time out of mind...
'Playing with embers', he said,
filled with sun,
in my mind I am already Hell-ward,
to hell.
My cheeks enflamed,
a burnt offering of shame.
As my own darkness engulfed me
I looked to the Archer of Light,
whose blunt bolts (belonging to the bow),
and shrouded, virile, animus intention
has already bore through mine own virtue.
And whose prospering scepter of ambition
I felt, once,
in a dream somewhere,
pressed, blistering against my form.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
The body is useless
If the mind does not control it
Manipulating its creative power
With an educated compromise
Between lust and intent
The latter to this equation is
That the mind becomes stale
If your body does not enjoy it
Prospering from it's fruits
Becoming an energetic spark
Heat radiating from the skin
Touching water with power
Such knowledgeable freedom
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
*don't harangue my life with care for pity at woman's idiocy, not having adopted Caesarian birth as universally adequate and prospering her, to instil this barbaric guilt in me wondering why women, of all mammals had no natural anaesthetic produced when giving birth... **** your little guilt-trip argument! Caesarian or no argument!*
to be robbed of a glorious death, and be given an
inglorious birth, esp. when women were given an ease
with a Caesarian birth diplomacy... what's there to retain for man?
ardency in labour? old age? i too was robbed of what
Caesar described as the ideal death: the sudden one...
am i to wait for my sickbed...
if i only chanced the thrill of life
within one sunset and sought no night
to encompass my life as worthy compensation
of nothing.
a life lived to the bell-tone of a replaced
uvula, no care for charity asserted...
in that one momentary exception of all life prior,
to have lived it, and hence entombed,
readied for the element acquiring me to
further its signature... as sustainable...
i'd rather die a painful death that live
a comfortable life: pain is eased with its short-lived
establishing awareness when the glory prior is "prolonged"
ascribed to the fates akin to Achilles... and indeed pain is
merely pain with its prolonging on the sickbed...
counter heroism, so defeatist;
how many times am i to be robbed? to thus experience
such shallows of thieves with cheap constantly
expedient thievery? i've had enough to concede to a juggle
of fates and fortunes! one smooth stroke of the ace
rather than the many axe-hackings of the neck
of ****** Mary. bothersome agitations via pride, honour
and braveness, only if they do not happen,
and should they, they'd be undertaken, but to no quest
of celebratory non-enactment, i.e.: farting rather than ********
prior: to be given a wave of the standard acupuncture
of infantry: as guarantee of mythology; and a nobleman
on his horse without a stirrup prior to the *** intervention.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 10:14 PM UTC
What are kings, if not selfish cruel creatures,
thrones built of sacrifices,
the blind lambs of faith.
Their misdeeds,
their whims being the guiding path.
Will, paving the concrete path of others.
But,
though brow beaten,
the knight cries.
"To what shalt we be if not without the guidance of kings,
kissed by the angels of the holy,
blessed beneath the stars?
What of the olive branch they provide?
Of the prospering and the peasantry."
Oh,
how they cry within their armoured shells,
suffocating under their oaths.
Unspoken promises to their god,
their king,
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Everyday I wake with a pain,
Forever in my chest, it will rein
The feeling so cold, it freezes my soul
A payment I must give, a living toll
I have never felt so alone
In those few seconds that are known
So many before me have lived this lie
That life is some mysterious high
But for the rest, each day is a test
To see who will overcome being suppressed
Living a life of lies and deceit
Trying to be accepted, but becoming effete
Some people that have lost all hope become weak
Giving in to the decision to perish, they die in defeat
Those critical seconds of choice
One of the few moments when some have a voice
They could decide to just give up and die
Or to choose to continue prospering and fly
Or curl in a ball of loneliness and sorrow
Questioning their life and hating tomorrow
I wish I were saved from this life changing decision
So I know there is some sort of provision
Stopping me from losing hope and ending it all
I want to die when the time is right, a willing fall.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
Collected punk neon girl
Pixie goth artsy boy
I could read you both anytime
I'm a stickler for a problem
So enough of the courage
Enough of the bravado
I love things I cannot fix
So drugs, mental plague and festering narcissism are the things I like
A secret to only myself
My friend brings on lovers
Who are scared to touch
They look on with pearly eyes
And mouth out words.
With only silent prayer they have --
No action.
She lies there ashamed.
Too pure too touch
Too perfect to be near
She's a gyroscopic girl - a dancing queen of flowers
Too thunderous to tame
Must be nice, I say.
Hell, she replies.
It makes her grow black thorns
Which makes me show her my black moths
In my own brain
Another friend is in a mix
She cannot feel her teeth
As she digs on into cruel flesh
Endlessly --
Prospering off of the mania.
Madness in us all
Sparks only to blame.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC
How long does it take until you begin to realise,
Until you remember just how much of a fool you really are?
Do the heavens have to open and release all hell,
Do the gun echoes have to ricochet right through my heart?
Does the sun have to take a morning break and delay it's early rise,
Does the moon have to shy away into the depth of the clouds?
How long does it take until you begin to realise,
That something isn't right?
I've been an idiot,
A prospering-now-spiralling-into-decline-fool.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC
The constant feeling of drowning
suffocation.
No regeneration, and no hope.
Waving goodbye to dreams and prospering amenities.
Nothing can hurt you anymore,
you've felt it all before.
Nothing in this ******* world gives you chills
upsets you, or scares you
the way it did the first time
your problems bluntly ripped off your skin,
exposed your skeleton and poisoned
your organs,
exposing the hurt you
expressed in the little journal that fit in your pillowcase.
You no longer have fear that tomorrow you wont wake-
it's become more of a dream than anything.
Wishing that you wake up with your loved one
by your side
but wondering who would care
so much as to comfort you... scarcity?
Addicted to the brain washing pills,
or the hurt one inflicts on you.
You feel good about your poor decisions,
and with no direction, take the path to hell.
but that's normal, that's all you know.
and its not your fault,
though fully aware of your mistakes.
Twisted destinies among the greatest of people,
who knows where we'll end up.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
Breaking, pressing, slipping beneath undeserving skin
Shadows inhaling secrets
Seeded wounds painted unconsciously on the landscape of me
Remains discovered beaten and burnt unspoken exhaustion
Strangled mumbles splintering my prospering expectations
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC