"reverance" poems
Life, itself,
is the finest
of all the Arts.
All the others
simply enrich
this cosmic and
ephimeral Art
of Life, itself.
Make no rash mistake;
that is not to belittle any;
but, rather is it intended
to show due reverance
to each and every last one.
All Art is Sacred.
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 1:01 AM UTC
Ibrahim looking at Dalila declares Kitab Allah wa sunnati Rasullah
Dalila looking at Ibrahim declares Kitab Allah wa sunnati Rasullah
Ibrahim says to Dalila You are my heaven tonight
Dalila smiles
Ibrahim thanks Allah before dawn for being given the best provision
Dalila sits behind him humbling herself before Allah and giving reverance to Allah for an uncalculated blessing
Ibrahim leads them in their daily prayers
Dalila carefully and gratefully follows
Ibrahim is just or fair with Dalila and the family
Dalila is just or fair with Ibrahim and the family
Ibrahim often cooks delicious dinners for the two of them
Dalila plays with Ibrahim's hair afterwards
Ibrahim reads Quran and lives it for Allah, Allah's beloved Prophet, himself, Dalila, and their kids
Dalila learns from Ibrahim every day and admires his efforts to do what is required of him as a man of faith, as a husband, and as a father
Ibrahim is honest with Dalila
Dalila is honest with Ibrahim
Ibrahim gives Dalila attention and listens to her when she needs to talk
Dalila dresses for Ibrahim like she doesn't dress for other men
Ibrahim loves the way she looks for him
Dalila lets Ibrahim know what he can do for her to please her
Ibrahim enjoys the challenge and likes being her hero
Dalila often has nights out on the town with Ibrahim she plans
Ibrahim surprises Dalila several times a year by taking her to unique places and sometimes to scenic, thrilling vacation spots
Dalila says to Ibrahim You've made me yours forever
Ibrahim replies I'm a fortunate man
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 4:57 PM UTC
Ibrahim looking at Dalila declares Kitab Allah wa sunnati Rasullah
Dalila looking at Ibrahim declares Kitab Allah wa sunnati Rasullah
Ibrahim says to Dalila You are my heaven tonight
Dalila smiles
Ibrahim thanks Allah before dawn for being given the best provision
Dalila sits behind him humbling herself before Allah and giving reverance to Allah for an uncalculated blessing
Ibrahim leads them in their daily prayers
Dalila carefully and gratefully follows
Ibrahim is just or fair with Dalila and the family
Dalila is just or fair with Ibrahim and the family
Ibrahim often cooks delicious dinners for the two of them
Dalila plays with Ibrahim's hair afterwards
Ibrahim reads Quran and lives it for Allah, Allah's beloved Prophet, himself, Dalila, and their kids
Dalila learns from Ibrahim every day and admires his efforts to do what is required of him as a man of faith, as a husband, and as a father
Ibrahim is honest with Dalila
Dalila is honest with Ibrahim
Ibrahim gives Dalila attention and listens to her when she needs to talk
Dalila undresses for Ibrahim like she doesn't undress for other men
Ibrahim loves the way she looks for him
Dalila lets Ibrahim know what he can do for her to please her
Ibrahim enjoys the challenge and likes being her hero
Dalila often has nights out on the town with Ibrahim she plans
Ibrahim surprises Dalila several times a year by taking her to unique places and sometimes to scenic, thrilling vacation spots
Dalila says to Ibrahim You've made me yours forever
Ibrahim replies I'm happy I did
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 10:09 AM UTC
she comes to me,
open, wanting.
baby...please...
she sighs.
these two words,
more than the sum
of their syllables, distanced from strokes and lines;
beyond mere utterances; desire.
words whispered
in sacred prayer.
this offering up
of all that she is.
and i go to her
heed her calling,
for she is home to me.
every beat of my heart
echoes her name.
she is a promise, kept time and again.
whispers of salvation; this sacredness,
begging to be worshiped.
what have i done to deserve this grace?
there are no gods greater; her skin,
silk beneath my fingertips,
burns away my sins.
i bend my head at this alter.
her curves are highways
leading me forward.
i close my eyes in worship.
raise up thanks,
soul deep in her temple;
absolved.
she opens to me; sighs.
breath balanced on bread,
her holy sacrament
tastes on my tongue.
i inhale her incense,
the scent penetrating my hands,
as time stands still.
she is all i ever want to know,
nothing before, no one after.
i have found my deliverance within the contours of her mouth.
and i trace, in reverance,
line to form; memorizing
every inch offered to me.
she becomes imprinted
within my core.
i tremble at her trembling.
then
i shatter.
i want to offer up to her
something akin
to the gifts
she has bestowed on me.
i open my mouth but words have fled.
instead,
i lay upon her
calla lilies,
tumbled from my tongue.
ribcage opened;
in my most vulnerable state.
i lay exposed,
stripped naked of this skin i inhabit.
i am but muscle and sinew; tendons,
taut cover bone.
these four syllables; expelled breath
baby.....please....
strip away the excess,
leaving only noisy bones.
to her, i give all that i am.
hang hands high
in ancient trees,
the frame of my being,
surrounded by elysian fields.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 4:49 PM UTC
I saw the twin towers tumble
on the back of a bus.
And that toothy evil-grin
pointing the way.
And it seemed,
it seemed
the people bowed
in reverance.
I was definitely
not in Kansas anymore.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
I was so beautiful to them,
they always relished
in the sweet-place I loved,
sacred & delicious.
I licked the dew off lotus petals
& they yelled to god,
actually screamed my name
in reverance,
talked about love
& the way I moved my tongue,
used my body in such
wonderful configurations,
meant to meet their wanton demands.
I was beautiful to them at least once,
but what white lies they did speak,
and sadly I'm a sucker,
a fall guy for liars,
who lie underneath,
spread themselves all over,
like smooth creamy butter.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
Just in the nick of time,
before we kissed
our gnarly ***** goodbye,
we got a reprieve
from two fast-movers
screaming above us
in a vertical.
We got explosive
snaps,
crackles
& pops,
such deliverance
from the diesel-smoke skies,
some guys got tears in their eyes.
It was a time of holy reverance,
a cause for celebration,
as we thanked God
for those killer
buzzsaws
bringing
total destruction
on our perimeter.
High fives all around.
Alleluia.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
For what was before is a question unknown,
but we shall not bow to fear
and the misguided reverance of
uneducated gods.
For the universe existed before them and so did man.
One day we may find answers,
but not within false wanting.
We must reach for the stars
and search ourselves.
Not to cower in lack of knowledge
which we do not have yet.
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 9:23 AM UTC
I love the pen and pad
But I don't think I can use it
It really makes me quite sad
That I can't seem to work it
You see, it's my confession to make
That I love to write
But it's sort of fake
What I really feel
Doesn't rhyme
So I change it's form
So it can fit the time
The pen and pad
So beautiful it feels
The sign of an intellect
Of a writer to be feared
J can't explain the reverance
For the pen and pad I posess
But surely it isn't natural
To find a workman's tool
My mind's only nest
I have found that there is a problem
The dilemma is this:
I can't really use these tools
Even though they're my mind's nest
I can't truly navigate them
With the words great writers heft
I can't form them
Into works of art
Like all the artists I envy
With words nor picture
Not short nor lengthy
You see, it's quite clear
The pen and pad
The paper and ink
They work so well together
It makes my heart sink
They inspire joy
From my hollowed throat
They are too beautiful
For words to provoke
But still I try my hand
At writing with paper and ink
Because all I can do
Is think
But all I write
Feels fake
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
I, the bird, to this marine world
looked back up at the bastion of mine
from a new perspective.
The brass propellers,
the ‘streamlined’ shape of the beast,
seemed insignificant, to the beasts of God below.
I insignificant,
out of place,
in a way that awed a part of me
A vortex of swelling frigidity replaced the air of my world,
I spit out the tube
lurched back to my reality
My scape.
I saw the bright yellow
pale blue, above,
and a squadron of orange tipped tubes floating
about the rippling white capped sea.
The pearl again white, and pure.
The Voices fluttered about, and grins were sent our way.
I looked inside for my knot of fear,
it dissipated,
impossible to reassemble as dry sand.
water drained from my tube
outstanding figures below were gone.
All that was left was the shadow of the boat,
a couple dozen still to my rear approaching.
But the serenity and rush were gone.
The perception of the sea’s attitudes on my weak flesh,
the fear of the unknown,
vaporized like boiling ice.
The whole experience lost, and replaced.
Urgency lost, I floated about on the plane between two of God’s worlds.
Neither of which we truly understand.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
The Circle Spins as the years diminish and I evolve from child, to youth, to adult....
Deep forest that once held the the new seedling of spring... has now lost it's leaves, and seen many a harsh winter..
Waves hit the beach slowly wearing away what is left of the sand castle of childhood... shrinking back into the sea... becoming a part of a new body altogether
memory fades like a sunset on a warm summer evening... disappearing into the horizon... before it's gone altogether...
Love remains... stronger and more forgiving with every rising moon... a gentle kiss a warm embrace... Truth.. Trust.. never dieing only reaching forever towards higher heights
Unfailing faith... in family.. in friendship.. in FOREVER... as a dog panting at his master's feet... a type of never ceasing reverance and adoration...
Eternity that lasts only a moment... and yet has always been and will always be...
I play but a small part in this spinning wheel... perhaps not even time itself shall look back and remember me
but death forever stands in a not so distant corner beckoning to me with it's long inviting hands... welcoming so that i may recieve my fate
A constant... and yet time remains... and what is time... but forever a moment lost...perhaps tomorrow is nothing more than a yesterday of the future
and yet we walk through the deep forest.. we play on gentle beaches... we watch the setting sun... we continue to spin the infinite wheel...we love.. and we live
if for no other reason.. then because... WE CAN...
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 4:16 AM UTC
Truth,
Men stop selling thy empresses to magazines and cheap sell outs!!
Truth,
Women , stop giving in to buyouts where thy men make you cheap dieouts and slaves to them!!!
Truth,
Men stop putting grenades in young lads hands, where thou bury your dead in thy sand,
Only waiting for thine next war!!!!
Truth!!
Kings and queens find your amour', not with currency you have collected!!!
Truth,
Both love each other not as objects but as one unprotected!!!!
Truth,
Men, stop thy iccusion of thine own brothers, for respect one another, they are thou, and thou are they!
Truth,
Mothers, waddle/thine children,
Don't grieve for today!!
Truth,
Fathers, show thine daughters makeup does not make beauty,
Nor can any fashion bring her rubies, for she's that ruby herself!!!
Truth,
Sibling lend thy hand, make voice with thy stand, If one screams will thou help?
Truth,
Leaders, do not befoul thy archaic province, make thine sons and daughters queens and kings of all challice,
Let them grow in purest reverance!!!!!
Truth, men stop thine own lusting, for doth not thou have a wife?
Truth,
Women don't thou to?
Truth,
Babies grow up to hear thine folks, for your skin by them was cloaked, Didst thou not know obeying is the greatest commandment?
Truth,
Boyfriends,husbands and men treat thy dame as if there's no more, call her your mi amour', not thy slave to fix your menu, and clean thine own dish!!
Truth,
Dreamers dream , and poor ones wish,
For one day you shall rulleth hand and fist to thy rich!!!!
TRUTH!!!!!
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
Handed down through the ages,
Humanity in hearts and reverance for the sages.
This place is more like a heaven on Earth,
Myriad of religions are taken here birth.
Our emperors were too kind to invade any country,
Million of channels telecast it's documentary.
Jai Hind and Satyamev Jayte resides in our heart,
Our sand handles both a motor and a cart.
The holy Ganga flows from the bottom of Himalayas,
So is worshipped for being called a gift like Matthias.
The Himalayan is fit like a crown on our mother's head,
Climatic variations and monsoon rainfall are so evenly spread.
World's economy has an immense eminence of zero,
Invented by Aryabhatta; Ramanujan- the Maths hero.
Bhagat Singh, Laxmi Bai had been an epitome of strength,
Education is vastly spread and immeasurable in length.
Variety of raiment is seen in every state,
Twenty two languages and each with a feel of sedate.
Vendors working daily amidst tumults on roads,
Poetry scribbled by poet as their respectful odes.
Colours of rainbow is reflected here well,
Luscious cuisines grabs heed by the smell.
Geeta, Qur'an, Adi Granth and Bible,
At different hours, they worship their idols.
Vaisakhi, Christmas, Holi and Eid
we stand together as a pillar in every need.
Writings are not only read in books,
But scripted on walls, painting on hooks.
Folk arts, tribal arts, feet beating on rhythm,
Dance forms are many, depicting their vision.
Here, women are treated equal to men,
Delhi and Mumbai got their place in the list of wen.
We treat our guests as the heavenly God,
One can visit here either by plane or brod.
Weddings are held by following every ritual,
Our ways may differ but our hearts are mutual.
With so much of glory do not mistake it as Neverland,
As this Golden bird does not fly but stays on land.
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
That's you,
You fool
You jest.
With life,
You flirt
You jab.
No lines,
You cross
You invade.
**** off
Your mind
You scream.
Swine them
You act
Your scene.
Stroke your own ego ****
Only a fool jests
When the guillotine stands
You dare flirt when
Your face is like a jab
The invasion failed
When you crossed rebellion
Your mind screams ****
"I beg to differ. I'm so different."
I've seen enough.
The act stops,
At this very scene.
Meaning doesn't
mean
Meaningless things.
I bet, with
Closed eyes
You make bets.
Black is your comfort
In your little world;
It's your safety blanket
You haven't thrown.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
It's been 7 years
Since you called me
After a year of silence.
You cried your tears on the phone
Drunk and hurt
I still don't know why I listened
Made peace out of my anger
But such is love between friends.
You arose from the flames
Like a raging phoenix
The woman I always knew
You'd one day end up being.
Now the mother of a 3-year-old
The girl who learned
To love herself unconditionally.
You have become the Dragon, the Lion
My personal hero.
The woman I never fully understood
You could become.
But there was a fierce strength in you
As you handed me a small box
Containing two necklaces, two halfs of a heart
And instructed me to give one to my best friend.
I guess my anger must have
Fully healed and made place
For reverance and respect.
I found the box and the necklaces
And as I sat there wondering
Why I never gave you the other half
I receive my answer in the form of humility
I should have believed in you
It's been 7 years...
You see I was not punishing you
I was punishing myself.
I take a deep breath that unburdens me
Tell you the things I never spoke out
To anyone else before
Let your gentle heart heal me
I let you make me better again
Like only you could.
So we start over
At the end of a bad year
I hold the box before you
"Do you remember this?"
Your eyes were blank
So I opened it
And handed you the other half
"It always belonged to you anyway;
You are the Raging Phoenix
Unhindered by the tallest flames
And I see you now"
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
Burn me with thy eyelids
Impale me with thy soul
Show me different kingdoms
Were past life lovers old
A circuit to lie upon thy extremity
A salute of ourn own flag
Blowing to ourn entities
Wrapped tight in cellophane bag
A shrine and a vestry
Wherein well make ourn abode
Ourn manor ran by children
For we'll have two or three at most
You'll be the loyal procreator
I'll be thy homage sire
Memoir's of ourn reverance
Lit to antediluvian mire
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
They said to let it go,
The whisperes did.
I let it go like they said.
You still rub salt in to my wounds.
But progress is made in small steps.
And I realised something;
One never truly moves on
Until the anger has made way
For acceptance and reconciliation.
And surely, when I see
The lisence plates
One white,one yellow
And a steerling wheel on the wrong side
I no longer think of you.
I think of a sketchy Scot
I got to know on a poetry site.
I smirk and wonder what he is up to.
My anger made way for nicer associations.
And when I smell acrylic adhesive
I no longer think of you;
I think of the bus ride
I took every morning
To go work for a dentist.
And when I walk through the lobby
I wonder what the girls are up to.
Healing takes time...
But much like the Yin
It moves slowly and diligently.
I take a deep breath...
It feels like I can breathe again...
It feels like Love is kinder
Slower and more gentle with me
This time around...
His energy is sweet
But not co-dependent.
And it's ok, if it doesn't work out.
You are lovely to watch
Even on a bad day.
Fear has made way
For respect and reverance.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC