poetry page 1
The first of five pages of poetry for your perusal.
psycho
strapped to a big black rubber |
|
|---|
The Sleeping Sense
The sixth sense lies dormant and sleeping.
We, with our communication gadgets,
Do not need it, for it is hardly in keeping
With a modern world, and yet, it's pre-sets
Lie deep in the subconscious, biding their time.
Coincidence is preordained, we all can
If we wish, communicate with telepathy, a sign
Of all that unused mind, it used to be in the plan,
It was also how we spoke to angels and spirits
Now spirits are in bottles and angels are new age.
Anything outside of science does not have its merits.
Believers in the paranormal, silently turn the page.
Carolina de la Cruz
Lady Luna
From the dark night sky, she emerges,
A sliver of bright, white light, she converges
With the darkness and the stars, sublime,
Her mysteries and power are yours, are mine.
Then swelling a little she waxes, a protrusion,
She who controls the tides, is no illusion.
Swelling more, like a mother with child,
She sails the heavens, untamed and wild.
Each night, her light increasing its girth,
Illuminates and protects our Mother Earth.
Then in mid cycle, she bursts forth, complete
Full moon, ruling the night, she guides the fleet;
Into the shelter of home port, bathing the world
In moonbeams, her lunar landscape unfurled,
Her eerie light combines with black shadows,
As she brings the long night to its close.
Still bright she goes on the wane, her sacrifice
Of each sliver to the black sky, so precise,
Every night brings her nearer to the end of her cycle
When at Dark Moon, she does not appear, but recycle;
She will rise again, a sliver of bright divine light,
And who of us will serve her, be her acolyte?
Lady Luna is the goddess of the earth,
Mistress of the sea, navigates the white surf.
We may ask at each and every Full Moon,
For our heart's desire, with her power attune,
We her earthly daughters, with cycles parallel
Feel her divine protection, wherever we dwell.
Carolina de la Cruz
DISTRACTION
I was driven to distraction,
Driven long and hard
Through winding roads.
I was driven there by my own fear
Of not wanting to know what may lay ahead
On the straighter road I could have followed.
Distraction itself took many forms
All of them small and self-contained
Yet curiously hard to reach;
Each leading to another
But each having its own inherent end.
I often wondered where and how
I missed the signpost leading to
The path I might have followed.
Or did I take a temporary detour
Then fail to find the main way back?
Sideways, never forward:
The spiritual path of the crab
Etching the ground with tiny fingers;
Marking out a route
Which none with sense of onward guidance
Or movement in a meant direction,
Would care or dare to follow.
Unless the creature was like me:
Driven long and hard to distraction,
Chauffeuring myself through winding roads.
Gayna Florence Perry
STRANGE
Been searching for the key
Cause it’s hard to break it
The box which holds the potion
What’s the code what’s the secrecy
I never find this easy
I always move around it
I circle around with my emotion
It’s hard to handle my past my history
I’ve got to release my love
Tell the world I need some back
I want to face the one true love
I need strength from up above
But this strange world is fighting me back
I’ve got it inside of me
I’m a restricted exhibit
Few knows about this devotion
But the love I need is a total mystery
I don’t feel like I’m free
I’m in a cage and I shake it
I’m fighting for a perfect solution
Been waiting for this love eternally
I must release my purling love
Tell the world I need some back
I want to face the one true love
I found strength from up above
But this strange love is holding me back
Jörgen Jansson
There is no such thing as time
Summertime has already gone
A moment ago it was the first day of spring
Why do the seasons move so fast
When I lie awake an eternity each night?
Longing for you
There is no such thing as time
Waiting at the airport for our flight to be called
Seems like days have passed
Since we checked our bags
There is no such thing as time
A moment of bliss that lasts a lifetime
Reflected in the mirrored corridor of our memories
Savoured as a gourmet meal
There is no such thing as time
david burns
Chat with an Old Friend
What happen to you?
Just 20 years ago
You use to be so beautiful and free
So beautiful to me
But lately
You look like you been fighting
A 20 year old Ali
I remember like it was last year
I carried you next to my ear
Bobbing my head back and forth
In a whip lashing motion
Causing a breaking commotion
Always
In high school hallways
Strolling through bowling alleys
Or ball courts
Locations of all sorts
Why'd you not pick up the phone?
You heard me calling
You must have fallen into an ancient abyss
I reminisce
How we wore our clothes backwards like Chris
Chris from Chris-Cross
We swung and hung out like two big Bosoms in a bloss
Back when you was hotter then hot sauce
It was a path you plowed
I use to jam you loud
Rumors say that one day
You got mixed up with the wrong crowd
And came away with a loss
In all honesty I have to admit
I get mad at how you just got up and split
You're like a shell I never shed
For a while I thought you were dead
I was feeling bitter
Until I had to consider
It was cause of you
I learned to flow
The first time I heard you on the radio
I wouldn't even go to a party
Unless I was with you
We were an inseparable two
Stuck together like glue
A tapped into taboo
What the hell happened to you???
Darrell Randle
A Prayer
Father, I ask you to run rampantly wild in my soul
May your burning touch never fall cold
Thank you for every blessing, every heartbeat
Every breath
Thank you for holding back the demons of death
May my image never blemish in your eye
I don't pray just to say I pray
I pray to be a better person tomorrow then I am today
Satan shoots gun galore
I dodge a hundred
Then dodge a hundred more
Open camp in my heart
Cleanse this old soul giving a fresh start
Give me force to fend off fends in the north
Strength to slaughter evil spirit in the south
May GOD praise be continually endlessly be in my mouth
Allow my eyes to be fixed on the world
NOT seen, yet to come
Lord, make me drunk and dumb off your spiritual rum
Hear my cheers
Might my ears be tuned to the tone of your voice
When tempted with a temptress
May I attempt to make a true choice
Remove flawed imperfections
Grant gifts
Guides of protections
Until the Resurrection
Funnel future malfunctions
Of mental mazes
Through prophetic phases
Bless me to be
An icon, a visionary
Viewing Mother Mary and Father Forever
Father be with me for eternity
Forevermore
What does the future have in store
Tell me things I've never heard before
Feed me fruit from heaven like a herbivore
GOD give me a plan
I'm merely a man
Only a man
Aman
Darrell Randle
Tempt
Don't muddle your humanity in malice
The rabbit hole was actuality the death of Alice
Beware of the unfair
In which enticement is a lure
Be benevolent, be pure
When you feel ailing and ill
Rest assure
GOD is the cure
We battle not beings that can be seen
We battle beings that are insanely, mundanely mean
Who fiend
Off separating us from our Deity
Be it be
Battles that wobbles and rattles
Both in heaven and on earth
Pray
Do away with material mirth
Be born again a creature of new
Don't tempt the devil to tempt you
I see men
So quick to sew their seaman
They don't see the demons
Growing fat feeding off our fear
Quick to whisper in a naive ear
Causing our minds to become unclear
These temptations collapse
In our laps like raining bricks
Beware of the tricksters tricks
Water will do no good to quench
Man's spiritual thirst
Sticks and stones may broke
Our bones
Yet words hurt even worst
Morals become rerouted
Torn between truth and lies
Consciousness becomes clouded
As September skies
Beware not to shoot dice with your life
Remember temptation is satan's knife
He was thrown down to earth
Before the inauguration of mans birth
So he knows every masquerade
Every trick of the trade
Those with various possessions
Are the very ones possessed
Just because you have money doesn't
Mean you're blessed
Don't fall to satanic schemes
Remember
Nothing is free in this world but Jesus and dreams
Darrell Randle
Execrated Epoch
We're living in the end of days
Far-flung from a phase
The end of mankind's wicked ways
Waters -Rage- showering shorelines
United Nations in a rage drawing war lines
Luckless times
Drowned with disasters
Overcome with crimes
If it's not a hurricane it's a terrorist attack
If it's not global warming in Alaska
Its desert storms in Iraq
Kin killing kin
Weathermen predicting Catastrophe
Preachers preaching Blasphemy
In no time soon will treacherous tragedy
Be nonexistent
Millions leave love ones behind in an instant
Never to be heard from again
Are these consequences of sin?
More wars with less hesitation
More diseases and less medication
More teenage Mommies
More floods and tsunamis
When will we see change?
International exchange on foreign soil
The everyday turmoil for oil
Ever heard the phase don't feed the beast
Where is irrigation in the Middle East?
Where is the down payment and lease for peace?
Instead of crumbling this place to pieces
Let's build a better world
For our nephews and nieces
Sketch the sea walls higher
Instead of trying to hinder
Surrender
To the Messiah
Be baptized in fire
Or death will by no means retire
Darrell Randle
Untamed
The wild ponies chase the wind
galloping for the pleasure of the run,
At a hilltop they stop and see how
the morning sun is strewing golden
droplets on prairie grass. Beautiful
animals we love them so much that
we catch and break them into docile
submission.
Jan O Hansen
The Lack Of Sex
Once when the land was a green and
almond trees blossomed I was in love.
Sex was good then, hot blood rushed
through my veins cleaning them of
fatty deposits. Then she left and a naked
soul walked night cold streets asking
the sky, why? Time, blessed time, opened
a chasm, unbridgeable, between then and
now, so I can say: "Sex, do not interest me
I rather read a book, a paper or a poem
Jan O Hansen
Ironing Board
I'm standing in the kitchen in my underwear ironing my trousers, when Saddam
Hussein in his prison did that he
made headlines and millions Iraqis felt humiliated; tyrant
or not he is one of them.and now they hate us more.
Privacy and dignity you can't have that in a society where everything is
money "No, I didn't sleep with that woman."
A doctor, needing money, took a picture of Mitterand's
dead body, he found no takers, the French are a funny lot
they didn't find it dignified, the doctor was fired and that
served him right. Ok. You can take a picture of me through
the kitchen window, no takers you say.anyway it's too
late I have put my trousers back on neatly pressed and
warm. Yes, I did sleep with that woman, in a bus shelter waiting for the bus
67 to take us from Liverpool centre to Garston. Now put that in the Sun and
pay us some money
Jan O Hansen
NO MAN IS ALONE BUT ONCE
A CHILD BORN,NEW WORLD GREETS HIM
NEVER LETTING TO BE ALONE.
A LITTLE LATER,URGE TO KNOW
WILL BE HIS CONFIDANT.
A LITTLE LATER, BOOKS FILL
HIS WORLD WITH PLEASURE.
A LITTLE LATER,DREAMS
MAKE AMENDS HIS SOLITUDE.
A LITTLE LATER,URGE TO GRAB
WILL BE HIS MOTIVATION.
A LITTLE LATER,HIS LOVE
MAKES HIM FAR FROM BEING ALONE.
A LITTLE LATER, HIS LADS
FILL HIM WITH LAUGH.
A LITTLE LATER,FILIAL HOPES
NAGGING HIS HEART AND MIND.
A LITTLE LATER,HE WILL REST
UNDER THE GRAVEL,IN A BOX
ALL ALONE;NEITHER 'THE CASE'
AND WARDROBE NOR HIS FLESH
MAKES UP HIS LONELINESS,
FOR 'IT' HAS FLOWN AWAY..........
jisa
TO URMILLA ; WITH LOVE...
GOD,IN HIS GREAT MOMENT,
FIDGETTING THROUGH THE READY MADE CLAY,
GRASPED A HANDFUL OF WAXY STUFF;
WITH NO GRITTS TO MAKE IT CRACK.
WITH NO SEAM TO SPLIT IT OPEN.
THE DEFT HANDS AT WORK,
OH CLASSIC PROPORTION!CHISTLED FINE;
TO BE A FUTURE ARTIST MODEL,AND BREATHED LIFE INTO IT.
THE LOVING PARENTS THRILLED TO RECIEVE
AND THEY NAMED HR URMILLA,
URMILLA, NOT SITA,THE TRAGIC TEAR OF RAMAYANA
NOR RADHA,THE CELESTIAL NYMPH OF MAHABARATA,
BUT URMILLA, THE NOBLE SPOUSE OF LAKSHMANA,
MUNDANE,QUITE DOWN TO EARTH..........
IN HER ACTION,SPARKLING CHEERFUL,
SENSITIVE LIKE A JUST BORN FLAME,
A RADIANT DROP IN THE SUN
A CHARMING WOMAN IN THE MAKING
AND TO THIS URMILLA,THESE LINES FROM 'KOCHU' WITH LOVE.