| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/16/2009 11:01:08 AM | Were it not for suffering we would not know grace...
that ageless beauty who surprises even the most dull with a hint of tears at the recognition of such.
Were it not for grace this planet would have seared quite some time ago.
It is the innocents that sparkle at the simpliest of pleasures...a childlike essence that entices merriment at the dandelion fluff.
Were it not for grace what would it be we would further be subjected to in a world of selfish banter that grows as deep as the vast oceans of gratification.
Were it not for grace we would not be. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/16/2009 7:57:13 PM | grace....
moving beauty
beauty moving
gracefully
simply
selflessly
freely... | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/19/2009 9:59:32 AM | If derision were the mortified ghost of centuries full of discourse
would delusion then be like a bead of sweat waiting to fall from the
fevered brow of humanity?
In other words... if we, in our vain arrogance, were the laughing stock of the Creator,
because of our arrogance and prideful nature, is it then not fitting that as we age delusion takes the elderly in an attempt to recognize the vanity with which we lived?
Like specks of rememberance seared through with temperance, our elderly live fitfully, swarmed in reality-based delusion that no amount of pharmacology can correct.
Just thinking today. Glad to have a space with which to leave my thoughts. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/20/2009 3:40:47 PM | Glass dividers from floor to ceiling, distorting this present
Past moments locked inside these glass cubes holding memory’s time
She was not beautiful but her strength was appealing
Inside those walls I still hear her screaming
Wooden floors lay down with love
His artistry a gift he fell down on his knees for
Her life was a dream of a vision in her imagination
She was not lovely but her spirit moved his
Glass cubes and square houses, they were despised of
Children and dogs mere objects of love
Not subjects but objects in the way of their thoughts
He loved her so endlessly, he painted her songs
In the boudoir I see her staring at me dress
Happy as an Eagle that she won’t let me rest
Like a monarch dethroned her hand reaching for my life
If only she knew she conducts the beats to my breath
The stories of the forget-me-nots that I’ve ripped from the hill
The gingers coated in chocolates finest silks
Her nails painted so exquisite and fine
She stole the show with her entrance each and every time
Lady of her doing, and maiden of her home
Bewitched by romance and the innocence of man
Broken and battered from her sorrows she ran
To glass cubes distorting the rings on her hand. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 4:23:55 AM | Discourse and delusion
quite a combination.
Vanity! Vainty!
Everything is vanity.
Is it not noble to desire to
finish well? | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 10:34:23 AM | | Absolutely noble provided that in that nobility is also contained humility | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 10:56:58 AM | Humility
Can of worms
just opened
you might as well
brought up
integrity | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 12:37:52 PM | | What is integrity but the manner in which we are to act when no one is looking as if someone actually is? | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 9:54:01 PM | this is a full post of an earlier patial post I did in another forum. I wasn't comfortable with the poem then.
Bird of Paradise (Capitalisim)
You bring colors bright
Keep me warm tonight
Plumage vibrant and velvet
Trace my window sill,
Chase the pain
Tip tap tic…
Rural rain drops fall Slow
discordant staccato
First slow soft pellets
Then surprising muted
showers, I struggle
to forget the blight of ghettos
Unbidden no longer hidden
It belongs to all of us
A down trodden
And tear sodden economy
Discovered beneath
Production profits' blade
Leaders hear not the cry
Distracted by its royal run
We the people do not deny
Its long waited meal of carrion
An orphan from the Cradle
Sent, bloated and ravenous
In constant state of regress
Fare removed, no spectacle
He does die, quietly
East of Eden’s waifs worthless
To Milk and Honey’s helpers
Rural America resurrects from ash
Not the phoenix but the burning crucifix
Edification, finds tears in green eyes,
Forces the Great Statue of Liberty
To fellate, charring her hushed throat
On white washed lumber
Perched on Liberty's shoulder
the bird of pardiase relieves itself
Soiling Liberty's visage, as
It rests its wings,And
The world sees
The Gift | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/22/2009 11:10:18 PM | beneath fragile wings
shoulders slumped
as daylight thinned
into the end rancid
days
iridescence floated
downward into slick seas
as feathers clung
to dampen spirit's
evening
gentle hands grasped
her knees as she sat
on cliffside horizons
wings spread to stellar
night
folded about her
bleak last moments
of quills dipt in inks
and dotted with life
mornings
and then will she rise
above blackened weeds
what charred remains
choked her breath
expired
her sacrificed nest
wings oiled with soot
as she spits foul blood
molten reminders
afloat
LZC | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/23/2009 1:24:47 AM | The Gift?
From whom
to whom
Whom?
Fatalistic or
scorned
angered or
hopeless?
Not good. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/23/2009 12:56:08 PM | Energy waisted
sent away for someone to send it back
or it can be kept
within and expanded to infinity | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/23/2009 11:05:52 PM | I question waste in a very direct and innocent manner,/
though so many have none/
at their center/
they are empty, even, of waste, /
apparently/
there is One though/
apparently/
this able to recycle his own wastes/
since he has no excretatory organs | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/24/2009 3:18:06 AM | In the grand scheme of things
there is no waste
only resources misdirected
Einstein would question
the expansion of energy
for is is eternally conserved
somewhere, somehow,
in some form | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/24/2009 11:49:27 AM | Why'd you dig for diamonds in the quick sand hour-glass?
Remember time and pressure of the past,
not a few grains dropping fast...
Staring through the haze on the surface of the gray maze
do you need a cast to write these plays?
Or can you one man band-stand rays in phase with the seated strand?
Sometimes you've got to understand,
it takes a pilgrimage to holy land. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/24/2009 2:43:56 PM | Pilgrimage?
better left to the Muslim
since it is on
his bucket list
Such a shame
to try to always
measure up
when up is out of reach | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/24/2009 6:11:15 PM | So bouysouson, now you've taken to attacking those that post here.
Besides that ridiculous toupee, it's your sheer lack of integrity that shines....or are you still mad that Tropical blew you off?
I wonder if you even realize how stupid your making yourself look....
If you have something you want to say to me, say it, but remember your words, opinion, mean less to me than the dirt beneath my feet.
seriously.
and don't bother with the innocent act, we all see you for what you really are....a troll and
a coward.
 | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/24/2009 6:56:16 PM | still.
It wasn't that I could make her spill
over smooth stones gasping, no
it was the magnificence in her voice that
found me through the turmoil of my sin.
still
the happenstance of white gloves tracing
over shattered facades and how
I ground my breath between
each frigid step as
black shards hung loose in
leather clad halls where
tainted hearts gave freely to
the lasting murder of pride.
she
was the wide swung window of temptation
and mirrored the fire swell in
our thousand century past before
even love dared our names.
lust, in bright visceral scars dripping
the open wounds of the heart strung souls as
I longed the worship of her mouth swallowing
every inch of my totem greed.
yet it was not her tongue I knew as fatal
nor the way her fingertips found me kneeling
in forgotten caverns grown ancient, it
was always the stark innocence of
her lie.
..R | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 12:57:48 PM | Troll okay, coward , not good
meet you under the dueling oak
at a quarter to three
Edie is a lost soul
but you care less
you wallow in a
sea of "meism" on
a road to nowhere fast
You really are
a spineless work of art
some would wash your feet
but not me | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 1:28:20 PM | " The world is a looking glass and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face."
(William M. Thackeray)
bouy...
the fact that you psycho analyze EVERYONE that crosses your path, and come to the conclusion that none are near as 'enlightened' as you are or are of any value makes me wonder what you REALLY see when you take an honest look at yourself...as in, when no one else is around..
you don't make me angry any more I just feel sorry for you....for if you were so enlightened you would not find it necessary to pick everyone to pieces........are you aware that what you do is a form of abuse?...abusers often don't grasp the fact that others must learn for themselves and that they can't force others into knowing things that they do...this results in controlling actions , and defeats the purpose that they were attempting to achieve....meanwhile, back at the ranch, the abuser is so busy stroking his own ego that he/she doesn't realize that this train of thought proves that they are just as 'lost' as the rest....(sad , really)...I'm the expert on abuse b/c I grew up in an abusive household ( just in case you haven't fugured that out by now, bouy)
How must that feel.....to be so proud to be an abuser? (or ARE you proud?)
Everyone has value......even when they are nothing like you and don't share the same the same opinion...
I will even go as far as to say this about you ...believe it or not..
How much attention must you get before you're satisfied? (isn't this ultimately the objective of trolls?)
I'm sorry that negative actions and acting up was the only way that you recieved attention as a child.....but that's not the fault of the poets on these forums....
sorry truth...I know this isn't my thread...but it seems every thread I visit is filled with this man's mental abuse and opinions about others.....I just couldn't hold my tongue any more... I'm sure he'll analyze me, too, on that point and many others....he did it before on my other thread (while I was in the midst of a nervous breakdown due to unemployment and inability to pay for food and such....(now that sounds fair doesn't it?...which brings up another point....you NEVER fully know where other folks are coming from, so what gives you the right to attack them bouy? Especially when they never had aggresive actions towards you in the first place)
you leave us alone and we'll leave you alone
it's that simple
ash
| |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 4:54:17 PM | it is not poetically inspiring to see
what occurs in those other forums
written unpoetically
is happening here almost constantly
coming from an illusion of superiority
it shows me this man could be very unhappy
and is not here with a care about poetry
(or anybody really)
quite recently there appeared a new thread
with that new name he's using instead
so I ask perhaps he let go of his attacks
and stay on his own side of the tracks
for if a troll you really be
and quite proudly, apparently,
it won't be long before you get the gong
and we'll be rid of you permanently
meanwhile I choose not to read
anything you have to say
see I value my time completely
so will not give you any more of my energy | |
|
| |
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 6:18:22 PM | Goodbye
especially to the
non-aggressive ones
like ash
To the enlighten one
like truth
To the hurting one
like E. | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 6:39:18 PM | your welcome in my house anytime Ash, weare1, it all means so very little, but your right.
and dearest ~E~, well, you already know.....
psalm.
this day is drifting needless
heads are talking, dripping
the blood and stomach thrown maggots of
chaos, blessed be my father.
fire, red storms swell
in mountains of a circling mass
winds punish the veins, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust.
fatal, I am loose over this script
drawing lines, a living circumference in
a fetal approach to create, blindly.
imprints, voices of the sand
necks turn in righteous ways
voices snap, here is the cross I believe in, here
the bones speak hard of night.
a glass is joined, only by the death throes of
my patience for non-poetry, sub-life or
a dark red mistress whore, who wears
the magnificent chains of a violence, ordained.
..R | |
|
| Old Souls......only
Posted: 9/25/2009 11:21:22 PM | in the quiet darkness
peace takes over me
alone with my memory
see an altered reality | |
|
Home
login 
