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George Krokos Mar 2012
Walking alone in the midst of the trees
the wind there was blowing gently and
everything was moving it seemed except me.
The birds were twittering in the branches overhead
singing out their love for nature and whilst listening
didn't share in their praise but envied them instead.
I could feel something watching unsure of what I intended
and sense something telling them about me to take caution;
keep out of reach, fear and harm is perhaps what I represented.
But what was this thing or feeling that I was sensing?
Could it be the ceasing of the wind and the stillness that
was effected or the hours of darkness that were falling?
My presence and expanding awareness was perhaps the likely answer.
But there was also, I could sense, a general saline moisture in the air
reminding me of tears and the ocean, from which did the wind transfer?
I kept on walking slowly along following a path I could barely see
seeking some place where I could find my joy to rejoice in and so
nearing the edge of the forest had no idea where that place would be.
What lay ahead in the stretch of land seemed like mere desolation
so, after hesitating a little and pondering, began traversing that land
because there was much more to witness from direct observation.
That which I witnessed amidst the trees was only part of what there was to see
and as I continued making my way slowly forward along the land,
I stumbled on something and fell thinking how cruel nature was to me.
While laying there for some time propped up on elbows with head drooping down
could not help feeling the way I did and wishing the grass was much taller
so that I might bury my head in it and become one with the ground.
When one is alone and lonely one does often think of many things,
not necessarily depending on the state of mind or mood one is in;
calmness, quietude and reflection are the fruits that solitude brings.

People, it seems to me that, when they are running the risk
of being swept away by a  strong and prevailing tide
that could drown them, always try to find a higher more secure ground.
But how high can they go and how long there can they  abide?
This was almost the case with me for I was drowning in my own thought
and with the onset of darkness perhaps I was trying not to get caught.
Thus I ventured forth straight into the unknown it seemed.
How far and which way could or would I go was deemed
only by time which would tell if I reached my destination
with no one and nothing to guide me but my imagination.

Sitting up I realised, after looking about me, was a kind of day
in which everything seemed serene and beautiful with the sun
shedding its last warmth and light, the air gently blowing away
its freshness and sense of freedom, this day was almost done.

Yet the darkness still was falling and thought provoking
and bearing all of its weight there upon me.
Could it be that only when, under pressure experiencing,
does one look then at what is really to see?

For ere the sun and moon fully exchanged their places,
to govern the land and sea, in the majestic sky awe inspiring,
I saw looking up into those vast luminous starry spaces
there was still light that shone upon me which was much desiring.

The sun on the horizon was going down in a shimmering sea
of calm movement, shedding as it were its reserve flood of light
in my eyes, warmth on my body and actively seemed to guide me
as the path lying ahead was still unforeseen and nowhere in sight.

Heavenly light was enlightening my world before me and binding
my mind in a state of exalted wakefulness as if there was yet more to come.
Although we can only all go on until so far as our fate is allowing,
will we never see through our blindness what's awaiting us under the sun?

For every man, woman and child there is a story that will never be told
and so we can surely hit the target but, will we ever meet the mark?
The wrath wrought through the misinterpretation of nature's role of old
in our lives will have its share to account for our being in the dark.

The moon with its full glare of moonbeams was there starring at me
as I looked up into what was so much more to behold and happening;
the stars were sprinkling their light in the heavens and could also see,
they were holding me captive beyond comprehension and beckoning.

And I began feeling a sense of attraction rise somewhere from within,
responding to this outward magnitude of enchantment transfixed stood,
and closing my eyes experienced a tingling warmth from my waist begin
rising up my spine and reach into the crown of my head as if it should.

And to seemingly flow out above through the recesses and ends of my hair
as if embracing and reverentially acknowledging, on some deep inner level,
a magnificent presence, comforting and soothing, invisible yet somehow there.
With feelings of inexplicable security and overwhelming love I began to revel.

As if nothing else existing; a conscious knowing of Almighty Being
which was centred within and yet everywhere all around revealing.
A step beyond imagination with a higher faculty operating
it was a bewildering and profound experience of becoming.

Yet I was very young then not knowing what age now
and oftentimes I found myself yearning as if somehow
there could be an almighty Splendour such as He
so reassuring to know that He was always with me.
And whenever turning within humbly, sincerely addressing,
He would always receive motherly - like my love offering,
comfortingly remove my sorrow and feeling of separation
embracing me in His invisible ***** - friend like affiliation.

Through the simple sayings and stories old assimilated
of words the Lord Jesus Christ sometime said indicated
in daily living I would find encouragement and confirmation
of the truth my mind then grasping subtle as if in revelation.
A little was almost too much and  yet so overwhelming
an ever present certainty the more one tries expressing
the use of words are near futile it seems
like memories of half forgotten dreams.

Many were the days that passed and very few were those amongst them
in which I began to find favour once more with that Old Friend and Gem.
Being as it were in life's quest, bedazzled by the apparently real, I saw my mind
which was caught as a fish in a net and offered freedom of a very limited kind
and even much less if one was not knowingly overcome; seeking release in
its strong captivating charm of illusory values and make believe ways within.

After many years and in a certain place behind some church
in a car park early in the twilight it happened so unexpectedly.
To my amazement, I saw a small tree growing in a little garden beside
the parking area, and as I got out of my car stretching my legs walking
towards it, and with eyes gazing at it, saw that this tree was alive and could see the sap
which was coursing through its trunk and boughs circulating around in it like blood
passing through the veins in a person’s body but of a transparent colour and so it was
that nobody else was there and everything for a long moment seemed very quiet and still.
__________________­_____
From unpublished book "The Seeds Of Life" - compiled 1996. This is a long poem and it also took a long time to write and complete as presented here.
Nathan Sep 2017
These tragedies that we've called love
Are now anything but

Now that these winding, painful paths have crossed
We've been led into each other

And now it is you

It is your eyes I see when I close mine
It is your voice I hear when the cacophony of the world dies down
It is your skin I feel pressed on mine
In the darkness of the night

Yours is the absence I feel now
Exquisitely and reverentially
For the end of this absence
Your absence
Brings your embrace
Brings your lips to mine

If only for a moment

This moment is...
This moment is eternal
Joe Jul 2014
The Garish Marilyns
Do nothing for me
The pinks
The greens
Obscene sweet wrappers

A level art students pour in like
Fresh fish hauls
They stare reverentially at the
Garish Marilyns
They have seen a thousand times before
On poorly made t-shirts
They use words like iconic
I rustle my sweet papers they
Glance over but my plain face
Only distracts them momentarily
From the gaze of yet another
Garish Marilyn
Concoxide Jun 2017
Hocus pocus
Rescind the locusts
Contact was made
Through an American waif

Pardon the lawlessness
Wait out the immorality
A seed has been sprouted
A soul has been saved

The tears of an angel
Have catalysed a connection
Have given momentum
To a new wave of change

We see it now spreading
With steady undulations
Exponentially growing
Reverentially laid

With trespasses forgiven
And atonements amassed
That old apocalyptic
Execution is stayed
Onoma Jul 2019
as starlings weigh down the scale

of a single sleep, darkened boughs

raise the opposing scale of wakefulness.

to the moon, who reverentially presses her

forehead to the balance--blessing the fragile

and slow motion of gossamer grids.

more still, the mind of a man that she is...

forest stalking forest, in the gentle lave of

her milk.

she is on his lips, as he tells the leaves he

knows they'll change--but her love will not.

his frame could not be more sturdy nor tender,

as he takes to the ground--and a love the worth

of death's wage comes to life.
(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and comination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
     umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zappa.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivically validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term off
spring upon a lifelong journey (initially as a
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
A heavy heart this papa doth air
signals necessary pang...
this father must bear
though...with muted pomp
and circumstances I cheer

stunning transformation unbelievable,
sans thee as youngest daughter
doth commensurately commandeer
her life by the figurative horns buck haws
self reliance mandatory to attain

indomitable survival deer
to push comfort zones she
lucked out with genetics
that didst electioneer
despite inherent trepidation and fear,

she (beloved, emboldened,
invincible, et cetera) progeny
acquiring, developing, and
possessing radiant flair,
whose sunny countenance

brilliant blinding glare
akin to an angelic spirit hooh did hare
kin profuse joie de vivre inhere
within hermetically sealed armor,
asper this "FAKE" junketeer,

where parting with bittersweet
sorrow tugs this longhair
dada, smote by whirlwind visit,
and now oppressive pronounced absence
more painful greater than hiatus near

four years ago, when venturing ala pioneer
(with just sixteen orbits
under your Kuiper Belt), ye yearned to rear
up despite congenital
(high functioning autism) diagnosis

you launched unlimited sky rocketeer
initially requiring parental consent
as dreams tease your fancy
over the rainbow somewhere
reverentially obliged, essentially,

dauntlessly and courageously climbing stair
weigh to heaven as thee define
ultimate goal, bon voyage unavoidably tear
ring at this being, unbear
rubble, who helped beget thee, yet...
cannot do otherwise but

abide by law of nature...unfair
for birth parents to experience unbear
hubble sadness, though starkly oh ware
precious offspring must take flight...
argh grievous heartache until...
sands of time mark many a year!
MavericksDivine Oct 2019
What is more beautiful than two beings in love?
A bond so strong that even death doth not part
She misses his smile and his sweet caress
Now she speaks to him within her heart...

The veil between worlds cannot keep love and lover apart
She sits in his old armchair reminiscing love's first kiss
Whispering, "I love you and I'll see you again very soon
Darling do you remember when we made tender love
Amidst wild poppies naked neath the opalescent moon"?

He was a poet and wrote fragrant posies unto she
Inside her wedding ring of rose gold
He had devotedly engraved
'Darling, you are the best part of me'...

She reflects upon the poetic question---
Was it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?
The lotus of her heart unfurls to catch her falling tears
"Absolutely and unequivocally
Without love, there would not even have been he or me"
Head bowed in prayer she gives thanks unto The Lord
Reverentially uttering, 'i' will always love & adore Thee...
(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and combination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zapped.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivocally validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term offspring
embarks upon a lifelong journey (initially as  
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.
Lloyd Elipokea Apr 2020
The year was 1820.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
One day on the said plantation field in 1820, an African slave, Kwame, all of a sudden decided that he had had enough.
He was through with addressing the white owner of the plantation field as ‘Master’.


He was done with tip-toeing around the white master’s children so reverentially as if they were demi-gods.
‘Demi-gods’! Why, they were more like spoiled little brats with truly despicable behavior.
Kwame had had it up to here with all of it.
So, on one Saturday afternoon, Kwame, upped and made a bold dash for freedom.
As he tried to run away with his heart pounding heavily in his chest, he heard the tell-tale sounds of horses’ hooves kicking up dust as the white master and his henchmen vigorously pursued him on horse-back.
Despite hearing the yells from the white master and his men calling on him to stop, on Kwame ran throwing caution to the winds.


But in the end something did stop Kwame.
Two gun-shots to his back and two others to his neck eventually felled him fatally.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
The year: 1820.
The year when the courageous attempt of an African slave, Kwame, to find freedom tragically cost him his life.

The End.

— The End —