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"revival" poems
PLEASE FORGIVE ME for not reading right now. 1) I've been very busy with personal issues. 2) I've been on the low with some poets who need to talk. 3) I've been emailing Elliott York all morning about a couple of things. a) The asinine war that was happening here on his site. It's caused many to leave and it (the attacks on Wolf Spirit included) MUST STOP. Gary L has extended the olive branch. THE REST OF YOU MUST DO SO AS WELL. It's kindergarten stuff! You're ADULTS. ACT LIKE IT! b) A couple of years ago I came up with an idea. The Poet Tree T-shirt and poster. It would kind of look like this... P   O   E   T   S           XXXXX       XXXX♡XXX    XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX    XXXXXXXXXX        XXXXXXX            XXXX                **P                O                E                T                R** love.joy Y peace happiness.pain other.poet.words. ...FILL HEARTS The X's above would be POET NAMES! YOUR NAME WOULD BE ON THE SHIRTS! You could then get the t-shirt/poster from Elliott York! It's an idea that I personally put out a while back but never was able to follow up on. Email Elliott York if you like the idea. I want it to UNIFY POETS. We are ALL LEAVES ON THIS TREE! Thanks for reading. ♡ Catherine
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Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
THE POET TREE REVIVAL!
0 followers? Dear New Poet: Then I'm your man, your very own Northern star, one leg up of a 3 legged stool, upon which all, we, enthroned poets, the world-over, do rule the honor you bequeath me to be, a first follower, your very own first responder, it, cannot be disdained nor diminished this instance, this birth, a novice revival, heart transplant, makes it the sweetest blessing to be the first— let us be the quencher of a desert thirst so long in the parching, the throat burning, by a desert sojourning, of a now ending forty times four hundred years so come to me! message me a message, find me a find, your poem fine, so now we vow, our embrace will ne’er be broken give me this honorific! let us together be terrific, raise our glasses, with arms entwined toasting you and all that mind and breasted chest of yours, full bursting from its future~contains, of which, its full release, brings a fuller life for us both I am a father. I am a grandfather. I am a First Follower. and a First Responder, for all who needs a leg up, so step upon my heart, it be but a first step upon a ladder with no top, no end ensighted my legs are as old as time, but, measure me not by the rings and the metered scales of gray hair aging, shock of white, a cain mark, wizard-wizened but by the muscles of my deep affection, the solemnity of this, my irrevocable promise this, the blessing we both make and earn, when you write, and while we wait, in quiet attendance - for all of your good works, your kept promises Blessed are You Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe who has given us life, sustained us until now, ***allowing, allying, and alloying*** the treader of treacherous waters, reader, writer, swimmer, to reach, meet, embrace and greet this day, this new born poem, with hallelujahs whispering and shoutings together, as one in one, of one, one
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
0 followers? (2018)
0 followers? Dear New Poet: Then I'm your man, your very own Northern star, one leg up of a 3 legged stool, upon which all, we, enthroned poets, the world-over, do rule the honor you bequeath me to be, a first follower, your very own first responder, it, cannot be disdained nor diminished this instance, this birth, a novice revival, heart transplant, makes it the sweetest blessing to be the first— let us be the quencher of a desert thirst so long in the parching, the throat burning, by a desert sojourning, of a now ending forty times four hundred years so come to me! message me a message, find me a find, your poem fine, so now we vow, our embrace will ne’er be broken give me this honorific! let us together be terrific, raise our glasses, with arms entwined toasting you and all that mind and breasted chest of yours, full bursting from its future~contains, of which, its full release, brings a fuller life for us both I am a father. I am a grandfather. I am a First Follower. and a First Responder, for all who needs a leg up, so step upon my heart, it be but a first step upon a ladder with no top, no end ensighted my legs are as old as time, but, measure me not by the rings and the metered scales of gray hair aging, shock of white, a cain mark, wizard-wizened but by the muscles of my deep affection, the solemnity of this, my irrevocable promise this, the blessing we both make and earn, when you write, and while we wait, in quiet attendance - for all of your good works, your kept promises Blessed are You Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe who has given us life, sustained us until now, ***allowing, allying, and alloying*** the treader of treacherous waters, reader, writer, swimmer, to reach, meet, embrace and greet this day, this new born poem, with hallelujahs whispering and shoutings together, as one in one, of one, one
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102
Technology Has empowered humanity Like humanity has been never been empowered The concern It has not only empowered humanity to a new level Brings in the ill effects humanity might face In the present and  future The new concern for humanity The use of technology in the wisest way possible Earth and nature The very root of humanity Been in shade Noblest thing that can be done Is the wise use the of technological advancement In the pathway of revival of nature In the natural and earthly essence of life Of course In global scenario there are corporates Big hulks That only go for accumulating more and more Whose concern Is not the nature and humanity Now the question arises The history of humanity We crave to discuss about now Has it the future time frame long enough? As the past time frame We are talking about in interest Or the ignorance and unconscious humanity Lead to the path of eliminating its own race?
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:33 PM UTC
Technology - the concern
Next time I wake from sleep for keeps – from deepest, darkest slumber – I may come back a little bird to visit in the summer; my quetzal pomp, green feathered grace, singing through my hunger – when I am gone, I may come back your pretty bird, a wonder.
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
Revival
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
0
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Y⠁HW⠑H
i've moved past my belief in the Christian trinity... for me... the meditation stands on the pivot of the following translation the hexagon, start of david - which translates as the Holy Ghost - which denotes a congregation... the pentagon? of the befitting analogy to the five senses... the "son of man" - or simply... the myopia of man having to excavate the sixth sense using telescopes, microscopes, the like... and, finally? on a hand of five extensions, there are four... the square...   Y                    H             ⠁⠑                     read clockwise                                       like English traffic H                     W            on a roundabout. which? denotes the father...     if the Hebrews "think" they can hide their vowels?    the Latin answer is...    to interpolate Braille into their language...        and Emperor Nero would have appreciated it... whether with, or without the Byzantine propaganda machinery of the nevus testamentum... and it wasn't a propagandist piece?     how much longer did the eastern Empire, outlive the Western empire, when the onslaught by the Ottoman's reached                   Constantinople?! the Greek were craving a cultural revival!         they believed the Romans to have origins in Troy! they plaid the weakest cultural card of Judaism, revamping it into Christianity... hell... that's what i believe... and i'm not about to meet a Jehovah's Witness propagandist, or some aged Pakistani citing the Quran on a park bench...   or some Scientologist on Oxford St. with his wacky machine...   or some pseudo Hare Krishna monk with a book about some guru, pushing it like marijuana...    to change my mind on what i'm digesting! plus?   ⠽                   ⠓               Æ                  ( read anti-clockwise)                                             ⠓                    ⠺ fits in perfectly into the Adam and Eve narrative - as with all mythology - given the extent of time...     nuance, metaphor... abbreviation...                    ars poetica!
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81
Ye won't comprehend what I mean Unless acquire the eyes to have seen Emotions by their true image Do you know what I mean? Once harnessed power to play with emotions Impossible seems revival, work no potions When crawl back half alive Anaesthetised images, walking drunk motions That deep sorrow, sadness and pain The efforts and struggles all in vain Isn't what you cry for and say? Ask thyself, Who drove you into that lane Pitch dark corners of thoughts arouse the feel Four stanzas including this one's just half meal Clouds of this kind circle forever Pressing the haunting words, in time I'll heal -------- <***> Presence of happiness none sees, a pity As we surmise, there does exist a Deity For a reason, all this emerged In everything, there might be something pretty <*> Once gripped that strange feel in the prayers Shall form over body, invisible protective layers Addition in tons, not kilos Of sagacity, on each climb of the stairs <> Life devoid of expectations isn't the option The mindset's worthy enough for adoption Great expectations pave dirtiest of roads Too precious to be displayed up for auction <**> On Him can we lean and must firmly believe Direct contact's the medicine for mind's relief Affordable yet unaffordable jewels await For the closest beings in His regard to receive F.A teeri
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
'Harnessing Emotions'
**Floods of revival , Lord, let them fall; Streams of salvation reaching to all; Pour out Thy Spirit , great is our need; Sweep o'er our beings, now while we plead. Spirit Divine , O quicken us now, While in Thy presence , humbly we bow; Set all our hearts ablaze with Thy love Teach as the secret of life from above. Utterly yielded , longing to know All the blest fulness love can bestow, Ready and willing , eager to give; Perfect obedience , bravely to live. Raise up a people , holy and free; Heart with a vision like unto Thee; Souls that would rather die than give in -- Lives with a passion, victory to win. O for a deluge - Holy Ghost power; Lord we are waiting ,send it this hour Open the windows of heaven we pray; All on the altar gladly we lay.**
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
FLOODS OF REVIVAL
Poverty Holding on to me Dragging me down Down D O W N There is no revival There is no survival No way to reclaim The life that was mine Trickling away Nickel and dime I can't support my family-- I can't even support myself Can't let my children know This lack of things to provide Even though I want to; When wants and needs collide. I can't explain it to you You wouldn't understand This suffering I see Sometimes I think it only happens Just to me I have so much hope for my children They have to go further Make more Do more Be more More than I was More than I am I will never be what I want This world, so costly I can't help it- but mostly It's the people in my life, The ones I hold at night, The people who keep me going Poverty Dragging me down But I will not give up I can't release hope For my children and their children- Break this cyclical way of living; Break the death and deceiving I am stuck, but I have hope I have love and I can cope But I can't hold on much longer Ripped to shreds by the economy I loved you, my daughter Be more
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
Poverty
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
The Sevens
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
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87
Magnificent was the colour of the skies and the rain that danced on our bare skin. Magnificent was the fingers that interlaced, like soft lips and soft bodies, soft eyes Magnificent was the taste of her love and ecstasy brought with each touch tonight Magnificent I felt, my hands all over her heart, her body, I did not know where to begin Magnificent you were, melting under the heat through the cracks of my fingers, astonishing How do I even describe, the burning feelings, the feeling that swallowed me whole drowning in the lies Our dance, tempting and I cannot resist until the end of the song, until the end of time. I know of its nature, I know it’s wrong but why do I still continue, still continue to sin? Magnificent you were, drowning in my arms, feeling each and every moment fill you up Magnificent was the night, the day, the afternoon. The sun sets and burns, the orange of the sky fills your room Magnificent, magnificent, your voice will break if you continue on and whine like that Magnificent was each touch, sensual and breathless, my hands trailing down her soul and into her mind, ready to corrupt Magnificent was the smell of lust, the revival of each burning passion felt that will lead to my doom Magnificent, Magnificent was she sitting in heaven alone, perhaps my heart isn’t good enough, just not good enough for that. -
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Magnificent, Magnificent
claude: battles tabletop. reaches for maple syrup, into breakfast, & breaks down puking. the girlfriend/abortion situation. the cash & cream corn. smells of deeper spring. grandma & her bible. to pray. to eat lunch. to television & honey blunt the relief of a sunday night. lily: into decay. into dark days of her america. detox: she breathes on vapor. sweet leaf. sweats the heat & dead-dreams off. off on wavelengths & resonance::: sound therapeutics, at 528.111 hz, enhanced dream frequency. she falls into bliss. into unopened codons & the rigor of vibrational analog. love cassette. achilles: wheelchair-bound & boning still. gripping *** the girl & couch. the couch & modern warfare. old warfare: harvest of limbs. he crawls across the lawn to pick strawberries. thumbs the dirt for entrance to another world. smokes a jar of roaches, as monument to his second generation revival. cool. wallace: & the zebra jeep. red rock monkeywrenched billboards & the ****** of flame upon milk factory. chemical factory. fertilizer bomb///return/ to town & grotto. porch-light wood & breath of bong-rotation. the babylon journeyman, embroiled in plots against the order. to simply disappear. to portal away.
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
4, 20-something friends
***I long for my soul that travels with you as I am with hunger that just you can fill. I imagine you thus, my completion when in truth I perceive only me in my dream my delusion of lack. While we are intact our creation with stories of struggle revival and pain as we meet and remember and dance with each other learning and playing this journey again....***
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Journey again
In that land somewhere of our dreams all is to be found right therein it seems where there isn’t a struggle for survival as the brotherhood of man is in revival. We help each other and have no real fear our hope is occassioned with good cheer. Whatever we think, do or therefore say is imbued with love and lights the way. We have all arrived at that promised land and must work together as a united band; giving and sharing of the good we all can while upholding this brotherhood of man. Non-violence is one of the rules we live by the essence of love we maintain and glorify. We all live as one in both our heart and mind and express those feelings of a universal kind. There are no problems that we can’t resolve as all our life around love does here revolve. In living by the truth we are becoming free and in this condition enjoy the grace to see All that exists in the world can be seen anew which is an affirmation of scripture and true. Our life now is filled with bliss as it once began in this state of knowing the brotherhood of man. We do not therefore seek to get the better of each other but accomplish all that we need to helping one another. Being free from any unnatural cares our lives are whole and all that ever happens a joyful experience of the soul. Awake to intuition we have to realise our ultimate potential and so everything bears the stamp of some divine credential. In being as we are then our years extend for a long span as we all live in accordance with the brotherhood of man.
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Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 7:08 PM UTC
The Brotherhood Of Man
In that land somewhere of our dreams all is to be found right therein it seems where there isn’t a struggle for survival as the brotherhood of man is in revival. We help each other and have no real fear our hope is occassioned with good cheer. Whatever we think, do or therefore say is imbued with love and lights the way. We have all arrived at that promised land and must work together as a united band; giving and sharing of the good we all can while upholding this brotherhood of man. Non-violence is one of the rules we live by the essence of love we maintain and glorify. We all live as one in both our heart and mind and express those feelings of a universal kind. There are no problems that we can’t resolve as all our life around love does here revolve. In living by the truth we are becoming free and in this condition enjoy the grace to see All that exists in the world can be seen anew which is an affirmation of scripture and true. Our life now is filled with bliss as it once began in this state of knowing the brotherhood of man. We do not therefore seek to get the better of each other but accomplish all that we need to helping one another. Being free from any unnatural cares our lives are whole and all that ever happens a joyful experience of the soul. Awake to intuition we have to realise our ultimate potential and so everything bears the stamp of some divine credential. In being as we are then our years extend for a long span as we all live in accordance with the brotherhood of man.
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32
To smile at the carnation, So gallantly growing, At peace with this world. In silence... I tune in a short conversation Between minds and bodies - Incredibly cold. My heart has surrendered To nightingale's song. I dream of Rhode Island... I'm leaving! So long! The winds of Sonora, My nannies and friends. My love for Evora - My tears know no end. The shadows of Mordor, With sunrise they fade. Grace, Kindness and Splendour: Three Buddhas in jade. I feed roastede pidgeone To poor ryebread crumbs. Avoiding curmudgeons, I'm playing professional dumb. Caressing the grass-blades, I live in a drop. Arcadian arcade: There, God has no job. In hurting the Nature We drain our souls. Let’s all at once cease Being ignorant ghouls. ...To stroke the carnation, To gently kiss buds. To eat simple meals Like lentils and spuds. To carry some water, To chop down some trees. To stop feeling rotten. My soul is at peace. The time is forever, The purpose is now. No “when” and no “where”, No “why” and no “how”. The light effervescent, The sound circumaural, The hearts ever-pleasant, The dreams polynomial. ...Collapsing eternity, Upheaving humanity, Rock-bottom fraternity, Defying the gravity. Creative destruction Is staunchly forbidding. The wisdom of ancients Is widely-misleading. Depleting our anger Is key to survival. Harnessing the hunger, Improptu revival. Combustion of senses, Precarious laughter. Incurable sepsis, Delirious canter. Regrets are forgotten, Bright days are all-cherished. Let’s live unbegotten Until we all perish. 13.06.2012
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Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 8:13 AM UTC
in-Carnation
To smile at the carnation, So gallantly growing, At peace with this world. In silence... I tune in a short conversation Between minds and bodies - Incredibly cold. My heart has surrendered To nightingale's song. I dream of Rhode Island... I'm leaving! So long! The winds of Sonora, My nannies and friends. My love for Evora - My tears know no end. The shadows of Mordor, With sunrise they fade. Grace, Kindness and Splendour: Three Buddhas in jade. I feed roastede pidgeone To poor ryebread crumbs. Avoiding curmudgeons, I'm playing professional dumb. Caressing the grass-blades, I live in a drop. Arcadian arcade: There, God has no job. In hurting the Nature We drain our souls. Let’s all at once cease Being ignorant ghouls. ...To stroke the carnation, To gently kiss buds. To eat simple meals Like lentils and spuds. To carry some water, To chop down some trees. To stop feeling rotten. My soul is at peace. The time is forever, The purpose is now. No “when” and no “where”, No “why” and no “how”. The light effervescent, The sound circumaural, The hearts ever-pleasant, The dreams polynomial. ...Collapsing eternity, Upheaving humanity, Rock-bottom fraternity, Defying the gravity. Creative destruction Is staunchly forbidding. The wisdom of ancients Is widely-misleading. Depleting our anger Is key to survival. Harnessing the hunger, Improptu revival. Combustion of senses, Precarious laughter. Incurable sepsis, Delirious canter. Regrets are forgotten, Bright days are all-cherished. Let’s live unbegotten Until we all perish. 13.06.2012
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68
Here we stand in the chamber of our spirits. Her revival was one that neither of us could predict. In her mind, the final act of this troubling play finished ages ago. As her soul was strengthened with precision equal to a lapidary I reflected on the integration of my thoughts towards her life. In the next moments, she mizzled away from this realm with no warning. Yet to my surprise, her aura lingered on like a phantom. Through a conscious rebirth in the astral plane, I feel her presence now. For a single instant of time, I see her fading before my very eyes. By order of the ruthless universe, our destinies remain shattered.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
Destiny
In times of yore, A name arose – With vulnerable emerging markets, The “Sick Man” of Asia! But it has primed its cutback! “Sick Man” was now a former name, Call him this nation To breed at ‘breakneck’ pace! The snap back is faster As global growth stirs in its revival, And billions of dollars are in his shares! Philippines vs. U.S. With 7 percent, the peso was down for the year! And we were knocked out! It was more a reflection of global fears! – About higher U.S. interest rates, Then, the worries ‘bout the realm’s own fortunes, Has to be forgotten. Southeast Asian nation's prospects remain bright, Likely to produce “predictable growth,” Yes, the three stars with lone sun – Now sky-scraping , With Filipinos making a stand. Moving far.. From being a financial basket case, The government has cut its debt, Carry on! March on Filipinos! (2/25/13 @xirlleelang)
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
When the Sick Man Unearths its Bright Spot
<> you pout and defer, dancing backwards, claiming, blue is now blackened from underuse, incapable and incapacitating revival *saying  eyes cannot see, distinctly, neither near or far, the tremble of love, forgot & distantly absent, but I know, a heart’s sensory muscles never die, though weaken they might, underused, un-exercised denying  that inspiration   no longer resides with in thy sensitivities, has fled, undercover of smoking forest fires all the diurnal hazards that invade, occupying my internal spaces once filled by poems you conceived, birthed, in a pleasured haze, came so fast, you bare recall agony accompanied, but not the ecstasy of the end resultant!* ***you know it’s you of whom I write, but, a note not shaming names, but messages countless private messages have I sent begging, beseeching, give me your gifts*** once more, you owe me not, though I oft irritate with my deafening pleas, yet only denials continue, my pleas ding but dent not, the tired fear of your exposition so speak to you plain, feed my soul selfish like in years gone past, there are holes in mine that require your elixir, creamy softness that moistens my face with tears of your words originating, astound, enfold** not later, not soon, not excusals, write for me NOW, WRITE FOR YOURSELF, but leave me not forsaken and thirst un-slackened,** Answer! To whom do you owe your poems?
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Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 11:30 AM UTC
The Ink in Your Blood Never Dies! (To whom do you owe your poems?)
Wet season becomes dry But dryness is not permanent; It's a test. And when one embrace the vision, There will be a provision Unto him, due to his higher calling. There is a revival An awakening of the soul There, justice shall submerge And it shall be a payback time. For to where a revelation lies, There will be power and inspiration And the keys to the multitudes: Faith, prayer and obedience.
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Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
Season
I Am Waiting I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waiting for a rebirth of wonder and I am waiting for someone to really discover America and wail and I am waiting for the discovery of a new symbolic western frontier and I am waiting for the American Eagle to really spread its wings and straighten up and fly right and I am waiting for the Age of Anxiety to drop dead and I am waiting for the war to be fought which will make the world safe for anarchy and I am waiting for the final withering away of all governments and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Second Coming and I am waiting for a religious revival to sweep thru the state of Arizona and I am waiting for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored and I am waiting for them to prove that God is really American and I am waiting to see God on television piped onto church altars if only they can find the right channel to tune in on and I am waiting for the Last Supper to be served again with a strange new appetizer and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for my number to be called and I am waiting for the Salvation Army to take over and I am waiting for the meek to be blessed and inherit the earth without taxes and I am waiting for forests and animals to reclaim the earth as theirs and I am waiting for a way to be devised to destroy all nationalisms without killing anybody and I am waiting for linnets and planets to fall like rain and I am waiting for lovers and weepers to lie down together again in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed and I am anxiously waiting for the secret of eternal life to be discovered by an obscure general practitioner and I am waiting for the storms of life to be over and I am waiting to set sail for happiness and I am waiting for a reconstructed Mayflower to reach America with its picture story and tv rights sold in advance to the natives and I am waiting for the lost music to sound again in the Lost Continent in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the day that maketh all things clear and I am awaiting retribution for what America did to Tom Sawyer and I am waiting for Alice in Wonderland to retransmit to me her total dream of innocence and I am waiting for Childe Roland to come to the final darkest tower and I am waiting for Aphrodite to grow live arms at a final disarmament conference in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting to get some intimations of immortality by recollecting my early childhood and I am waiting for the green mornings to come again youth’s dumb green fields come back again and I am waiting for some strains of unpremeditated art to shake my typewriter and I am waiting to write the great indelible poem and I am waiting for the last long careless rapture and I am perpetually waiting for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn to catch each other up at last and embrace and I am awaiting perpetually and forever a renaissance of wonder
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI
I Am Waiting I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waiting for a rebirth of wonder and I am waiting for someone to really discover America and wail and I am waiting for the discovery of a new symbolic western frontier and I am waiting for the American Eagle to really spread its wings and straighten up and fly right and I am waiting for the Age of Anxiety to drop dead and I am waiting for the war to be fought which will make the world safe for anarchy and I am waiting for the final withering away of all governments and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Second Coming and I am waiting for a religious revival to sweep thru the state of Arizona and I am waiting for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored and I am waiting for them to prove that God is really American and I am waiting to see God on television piped onto church altars if only they can find the right channel to tune in on and I am waiting for the Last Supper to be served again with a strange new appetizer and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for my number to be called and I am waiting for the Salvation Army to take over and I am waiting for the meek to be blessed and inherit the earth without taxes and I am waiting for forests and animals to reclaim the earth as theirs and I am waiting for a way to be devised to destroy all nationalisms without killing anybody and I am waiting for linnets and planets to fall like rain and I am waiting for lovers and weepers to lie down together again in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed and I am anxiously waiting for the secret of eternal life to be discovered by an obscure general practitioner and I am waiting for the storms of life to be over and I am waiting to set sail for happiness and I am waiting for a reconstructed Mayflower to reach America with its picture story and tv rights sold in advance to the natives and I am waiting for the lost music to sound again in the Lost Continent in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the day that maketh all things clear and I am awaiting retribution for what America did to Tom Sawyer and I am waiting for Alice in Wonderland to retransmit to me her total dream of innocence and I am waiting for Childe Roland to come to the final darkest tower and I am waiting for Aphrodite to grow live arms at a final disarmament conference in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting to get some intimations of immortality by recollecting my early childhood and I am waiting for the green mornings to come again youth’s dumb green fields come back again and I am waiting for some strains of unpremeditated art to shake my typewriter and I am waiting to write the great indelible poem and I am waiting for the last long careless rapture and I am perpetually waiting for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn to catch each other up at last and embrace and I am awaiting perpetually and forever a renaissance of wonder
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/                           beelzebub *(given employs the spider a posteriori and spiderweb a priori, and then back into a bicemeral reverse psyche-analogy - the id est contra the id erat - but there is no latin revival - given that the latin encoding has been translated into a.i. algorithms... forget putting the pandora into a box into a box into a box, into an etc. or what is a russian cultural artefact... forget it... a black fly would not take upon itself to make a dustbin, a ******* maggoty brothel, like a green bottle fly might... black flies have character, style... they're the ones that take to tango, with spider architecture, akin to the theological spider analogy about an ad infinitum a priori argument)*:    a bit like watching a black fly - "washing" itself - rubbing it's front limbs together, "attempting" to start a fire...       god, those awful green bottle hypers -   with maggot excesses - in a potential well expressed into practice - black flies?      i can entertain them - like i might entertain spiders that do not require aquariums - the non-exotica types... so i sometimes find myself rubbing my hands together, like a catholic amounting to an altruistic prayer symbolism... so kommen faust,   so kommen faust,                    so ist pseudo-faust - or rather:    england?              deutschland jr. america?               deutschland sr. and if that wasn't the case?     oh me, little old slavic                     babuшka... i still can't explain rubbing my hands together, like a black fly might...       keeping standards of where to take a maggoty dump's worth of procreation value... black flies? compared to the others? the priests of the whole spectrum...      i sometimes wish they were red,    so i could call them: the cardinals... alas...    not to be, god said otherwise... but i can fathom the priesthood, like i can fathom -    an aspiration of a sleeping samurai, devoid of the zodiac delusion,    encouraged to make chiromancy initiatives                         (readings) to alleviate, ******** monotheism.
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
beelzebub (with revision)
/                           beelzebub *(given employs the spider a posteriori and spiderweb a priori, and then back into a bicemeral reverse psyche-analogy - the id est contra the id erat - but there is no latin revival - given that the latin encoding has been translated into a.i. algorithms... forget putting the pandora into a box into a box into a box, into an etc. or what is a russian cultural artefact... forget it... a black fly would not take upon itself to make a dustbin, a ******* maggoty brothel, like a green bottle fly might... black flies have character, style... they're the ones that take to tango, with spider architecture, akin to the theological spider analogy about an ad infinitum a priori argument)*:    a bit like watching a black fly - "washing" itself - rubbing it's front limbs together, "attempting" to start a fire...       god, those awful green bottle hypers -   with maggot excesses - in a potential well expressed into practice - black flies?      i can entertain them - like i might entertain spiders that do not require aquariums - the non-exotica types... so i sometimes find myself rubbing my hands together, like a catholic amounting to an altruistic prayer symbolism... so kommen faust,   so kommen faust,                    so ist pseudo-faust - or rather:    england?              deutschland jr. america?               deutschland sr. and if that wasn't the case?     oh me, little old slavic                     babuшka... i still can't explain rubbing my hands together, like a black fly might...       keeping standards of where to take a maggoty dump's worth of procreation value... black flies? compared to the others? the priests of the whole spectrum...      i sometimes wish they were red,    so i could call them: the cardinals... alas...    not to be, god said otherwise... but i can fathom the priesthood, like i can fathom -    an aspiration of a sleeping samurai, devoid of the zodiac delusion,    encouraged to make chiromancy initiatives                         (readings) to alleviate, ******** monotheism.
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75
The stars once more have lost their race Through night-sky versus mercurial moon. In this defeat no dishonor will debase Futile efforts to intersect upon the lune. Desert scents of juniper and Mormon Tea Waft fragrant above the comfort fire smoke. Banana yucca roasting at my knee, Fleshy fruit consumption for us hungry folk. Nevada nights nip raw this time of year; Our lot is cast by glowing embers, Whose reflector stones essential to survival, Stave off cold that we need not fear Frostbite to peripheral members, Till sunlight returns with warmth's revival.
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Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
Mohave Comfort Fire
tears fall your name i call gone frozen in time wasting away life heartbroken. outright cry strikes at night lost. always lost confused. anxious. scared. lies. knife acts like gasoline , poured on me cast a match flip the latch to the prison cell of lost hearts murmur my name before i slain the wretched beast whisper into the dead alleyways a revival unavoidable n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ l̶o̶s̶t̶. c̶o̶n̶f̶u̶s̶e̶d̶ a̶n̶x̶i̶o̶u̶s̶. s̶c̶a̶r̶e̶d̶. more deceit. cold like a untouched angel away from the worst danger i am born again. purged. regenerated. strengthened. renewed. rebirth. (b.d.s.)
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
isolation
Gathered pieces of a great puzzle ; refreshed perspective like ocean riptides foment at the confluence collecting dark rivers’ flow Repurposing back-eddies , rejuvenation of stagnant brackish waters , inherent buried soul-shine purging from the ancient core of earth mother Light arising from the hidden depths of inner stillness as if a refilling wellspring burst forth , reawakening muted sighs unspoken Forming poetic constellations of black and bright to lighten afar the nebulous darkness , a sea of swirling ink transformed into poetry A sage opus renewed by the muse of a migrating flock , striving to discover new sacred grounds ; yet there is an undeniable song sung in the howling winds of change An incitement from a higher dialect that empowers a restoration of spirit Oeuvre uplifted by rogue waves of summoning winds , arousing that which time erases A manifest renaissance among the rousing nuances of poetic continuum , judicious to rediscover the enthralling vastitude of every breaking wave in a boundless sea of poesy Where prevailing currents stir oceans of verse eternal ; provoking a verve revival , the magnitude of an unbroken circle , ocean swells merging singularity with the omnipresent colour of uncharted depths As if thoughts are assuaged by a union of intimately touching souls with words of intangible spheres , sparking subtle shades of meaning spanning poetic immortality Transcending barriers of unexplored lexicon to manifest the immensity, enkindling rhapsody of hearts and minds    Deeply rooted soul replenishment harvested from the tree of humankind , willingly sharing without regret nor intention , with deference to the soul of one-blood, one-love enabling an enlightening metamorphosis of the human journey ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
0
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
Harvesting Poetry from the Tree of Humankind
Gathered pieces of a great puzzle ; refreshed perspective like ocean riptides foment at the confluence collecting dark rivers’ flow Repurposing back-eddies , rejuvenation of stagnant brackish waters , inherent buried soul-shine purging from the ancient core of earth mother Light arising from the hidden depths of inner stillness as if a refilling wellspring burst forth , reawakening muted sighs unspoken Forming poetic constellations of black and bright to lighten afar the nebulous darkness , a sea of swirling ink transformed into poetry A sage opus renewed by the muse of a migrating flock , striving to discover new sacred grounds ; yet there is an undeniable song sung in the howling winds of change An incitement from a higher dialect that empowers a restoration of spirit Oeuvre uplifted by rogue waves of summoning winds , arousing that which time erases A manifest renaissance among the rousing nuances of poetic continuum , judicious to rediscover the enthralling vastitude of every breaking wave in a boundless sea of poesy Where prevailing currents stir oceans of verse eternal ; provoking a verve revival , the magnitude of an unbroken circle , ocean swells merging singularity with the omnipresent colour of uncharted depths As if thoughts are assuaged by a union of intimately touching souls with words of intangible spheres , sparking subtle shades of meaning spanning poetic immortality Transcending barriers of unexplored lexicon to manifest the immensity, enkindling rhapsody of hearts and minds    Deeply rooted soul replenishment harvested from the tree of humankind , willingly sharing without regret nor intention , with deference to the soul of one-blood, one-love enabling an enlightening metamorphosis of the human journey ... © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
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52
This life **** man… It’s exhausting.. I don't think anyone has any idea how tired I’ve been. So let me explain... I'm tired ..I’m tired.. ******* I'm tired... I'm ******* tired. Tired of life. Tired of crying. Tired of whining. Tired of trying. Tired of trying to try only to fail to keep trying. Tired of feeling like the only reason I'm alive is to try and avoid dying. Tired of being the only one that thinks I don't deserve the talents that I have that I constantly keep denying. Tired of thinking that even if I were to show my talents then you people would think I'm lying. Tired of keeping everyone else motivated accidentally, when I can barely stay inspired I'M TIRED.. … Tired of thinking I dream too big because everyone else is thinking smaller. Tired of being different than anyone else that I'm around and feeling I don't belong here. Tired of all my goals being too big for most to grasp because my thoughts are always broader. Tired of my own dreams always being out of reach and making me feel alone and awkward. Tired of being annoyed and peeved and on the edge at any little thing that makes me bothered. Bothered at the fact that I'm tired of being tired and can't stop my thoughts from wandering. Tired of losing sleep over trying to catch some rest and can't seem to catch my breath or take a break even if it's offered. *I'm ******* tired.* Tired of not being on top and feeling like quitting. Tired of everyone always Seein me dry my eyes. Tired of feeling like I'm a walking relapse. *I'm ******* tired.* Tired of working my *** off non-stop, and drowning in pity. Tired feeling like all I do is complain and whine. Tired of thinking negative when I know I don't need that. ******* tired.* Tired of having four ******* items in three different pawn shops in two different cities and one ******* thing on my mind with zero positive feedback. ******* tired..* Tired of people thinking that I'm thinking that I'm ******* special even though I know I'm not the only one that's lost in doubt or stressed the **** out in life. Tired of venting into these notes in my phone like it's my only revival. But it seems to be the only way that I can confess and unwind and get this stress out my mind though.. So thank you for letting me lay down these lyrics that I’m writing So I can finally put these thoughts to sleep and actually rest them in peace to expire so I can stop being tired. … Peace ✌🏽
0
Aug 5, 2022
Aug 5, 2022 at 4:49 AM UTC
Tired
This life **** man… It’s exhausting.. I don't think anyone has any idea how tired I’ve been. So let me explain... I'm tired ..I’m tired.. ******* I'm tired... I'm ******* tired. Tired of life. Tired of crying. Tired of whining. Tired of trying. Tired of trying to try only to fail to keep trying. Tired of feeling like the only reason I'm alive is to try and avoid dying. Tired of being the only one that thinks I don't deserve the talents that I have that I constantly keep denying. Tired of thinking that even if I were to show my talents then you people would think I'm lying. Tired of keeping everyone else motivated accidentally, when I can barely stay inspired I'M TIRED.. … Tired of thinking I dream too big because everyone else is thinking smaller. Tired of being different than anyone else that I'm around and feeling I don't belong here. Tired of all my goals being too big for most to grasp because my thoughts are always broader. Tired of my own dreams always being out of reach and making me feel alone and awkward. Tired of being annoyed and peeved and on the edge at any little thing that makes me bothered. Bothered at the fact that I'm tired of being tired and can't stop my thoughts from wandering. Tired of losing sleep over trying to catch some rest and can't seem to catch my breath or take a break even if it's offered. *I'm ******* tired.* Tired of not being on top and feeling like quitting. Tired of everyone always Seein me dry my eyes. Tired of feeling like I'm a walking relapse. *I'm ******* tired.* Tired of working my *** off non-stop, and drowning in pity. Tired feeling like all I do is complain and whine. Tired of thinking negative when I know I don't need that. ******* tired.* Tired of having four ******* items in three different pawn shops in two different cities and one ******* thing on my mind with zero positive feedback. ******* tired..* Tired of people thinking that I'm thinking that I'm ******* special even though I know I'm not the only one that's lost in doubt or stressed the **** out in life. Tired of venting into these notes in my phone like it's my only revival. But it seems to be the only way that I can confess and unwind and get this stress out my mind though.. So thank you for letting me lay down these lyrics that I’m writing So I can finally put these thoughts to sleep and actually rest them in peace to expire so I can stop being tired. … Peace ✌🏽
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