| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 2/17/2007 11:03:09 AM | I am afraid to post in abstract rhythms
wondering if my imagination
is too based on perceptions
and not the abstract thoughts
you all possess
I know not of repenting monks
but Snow White I understand
the Cronicles of Narnia
Through The Looking Glass
I have slid down rabbit holes
and walked through wardrobes
and upon opening my soul
accepted the unexplained
shuttered at the white witch
walked in the secret garden
and stood on the barren soil
crying out "Tomorrow Is Another Day"
I have sat and meditated on Buddah's words
but it made me realize how much I didn't know
my consciouness was young
and how far, how very far
I have to go. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 2/17/2007 11:08:04 AM | sorry gotta respond to that----------------------
vivid images in your mind
let them flow, quit the self persecution
your images are VIVID
exclamations to your intent
------------------
simple
------------------
buddah's words
christ's verve
the moments we see as telemetry
recording our lives
they will speak the presence
of good souls, and good will
Tenz
(cut the slack) | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 2/17/2007 11:31:59 AM | Saturate, penetrate, lubricate.
Inspiration needs disease, life needs injury.
Such is madness.
Crashing, burning, waiting.
You have to suffer before you can love.
You have to feel before you desire.
Best things in life dont come for free.
The best things in life are worth fighting for.
So love like you will get hurt, hurt so much you love.
Take a deep breath and plunge head first.
Like its the last thing you will ever do. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 2/17/2007 12:15:05 PM | Ok Tenz I'll try
I have stood on the edge
of a black hole
it called to me
to enter
the words were laced
with deception, torment
I wrapped the white veil
about my naked form
felt the darkness transformed
into light
became my nakedness
let it breathe
through my strength
to endure
introspection
reflection off the water
washed impurities
the birth of mind
and body
floating in unison
upon the divided waters
I saw goodness
I was the mistress
and not the slave
peace transcended
and made me whole
a being who understood
that good and evil
are a state of mind
let no one be my judge
I stand alone on the great precipice
I speak of passion
I speak of love. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms ~ spirited exchange
Posted: 2/17/2007 3:18:30 PM | spirited exchange
................you knowing I am brown eyes, and fast steel
........................I'm all about you now
..................seeking your lessons, the ones you tell in the dark
they kept you alive, now they are my fruit, my dementia
remember abstract liaisons, the ones built in town houses with sand
they never lived up to your calling, the one you later bestowed upon me....
-TenzRiddler | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 6:38:05 PM | Not relying on the meaning of the words,
just emotions to convey.....
The spoken truth,reaches just a few
when words are just thoughts at play.
So I will give you a simple parable
about the faithful and the fallen...penitence and virtue....
for the spoken word was spoken to reach everyone,
not intended for just a few...
Passions in life..for life
She slides into the base headfirst.
Her team is losing,...but she does this just the same....
stands up,dusting off her scraped body,
knowing this won't make the scoreboard change.
It's the only way..... she knows to play..... her passion for the game.
A passion in life..for life ,takes you down all your roads ahead
It will make you continue to love,
even when love is left only hanging by a thread.
It is passion that can also make the flesh so weak
But what others may never see or know...
It is with passion,for our father in heaven,....the only way she knew how to seek
So now she has fallen,
for sometimes ....we all will stumble along the way.
But because of a passion and love ,
for a father above,
she will remain humble and on bended knees she can only pray.
She can hurt.... and still forgive others that wrong her along the way,
There is no pride
that lives inside...no defense ....to try and stop the words others say..
It's the only way......she knows how to play............. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 6:44:06 PM | Beautiful Write Casheyes....
An Insightful and Provocative view....... | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 8:04:42 PM | AutumnFantasy: you are simply wonderful. You have presence my dear friend. And I thank you for placing it here.
Intenzity…many riddles ye art. And you never cease to amaze me. Once again, I tank you for being you.
Deadwh*re: the passion in you provokes the passions of the poet. I’m forced to go deeper. I thank you.
Casheyesblond: TruthIsee hath said it best. But I too, feel the clarity…the sincerity. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 8:22:55 PM | The uncanny!
Now,
This same little kitten,
White and fluffy,
With the biggest most innocent eyes…
Is pawing at my windowpane…
We look o’er yon at the window…
And she blinks
About a half dozen times…
Thus I oblige…
I open the window…
And Ms. Little boldness,
Gaits right in.
Now the mongoose and I
Before then
Wert jesting with the cobra…
But now all is silent.
The little kitty,
Has us all attentive…
She gaits over to cobra…
And begins hissing…
While at the same time
Looking o’er at the mongoose…
We couldn’t help but all laugh….
It’s uncanny…
But even the little kitty can see! | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 9:31:57 PM | What it is!
Dybbuk appeared in a trice…
Cheering the hysteria!
Disabuse the vision…
Transport time back…
Before it was…
What it is! | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 9:34:54 PM | "Dead echoes"
Casted unto the living
are my dead echoes,
voices believed to have meaning
which fail their goal
Among those who breathe I walk,
dreaming to capture a smile,
but to the dead they will not talk
for my voices to them exist not
Tired are my eyes to stare
into a truth that is no more mine
those in life are not aware
that I am still there, unseen, unheard
Love was a real word
whose meaning I used to know
but now it is an echo, an absurd,
a vain voice lingering in my dead tongue
Why to insist in communication
if a former meaningful word
is now less than a hollow creation
devoid of its audience and life
May the wind remember my voice,
once strong and loud,
now of sounds having no choice
for a dead echo my word is to many ears...
-------------------------------------------
(C) 2007 - Ro.M. (Poet Friend) | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/17/2007 11:21:12 PM | These last two poems came at me all at once....close timing.
Poetfriend,your words speak outloud...cool write | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 1:16:09 AM | The Patient
A groan of tedium escapes me,
Startling the fearful.
Is this a test? It has to be,
Otherwise I can't go on.
Draining patience, drain vitality.
This paranoid, paralyzed vampire act's a little old
I'm still right here giving blood
If there were no desire to heal
The damaged and broken met along
This tedius path I've chosen here
I certainly would of walked away by now
I must keep reminding myself of this
Gonna wait it out | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 3:23:56 AM | A highlighted fellow from Rye
Went to visit the Tirpitz close by,
Who said, with a grin,
stinking of gin:
"Hello, Uzi! You're chopped! How am I?"
Vessels perambulated
open wasteland scars
twisted wreckage of block and wood
ten feet a drop and drilled out expectations
he walks not knowing the man hour
Latina concertina illusions dancing in the kitchen
old ways uncovered and hidden as even quicker discovered
PAY THE MAN WHAT YOU OWE HIM!
raven's flight crept in shadows
stirring up nestled bloodlines crossed
you will suffer at my hand | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 4:43:29 PM | Poetfriend...It's great to read your works. You are of keen insight and motion.
Portal-Time...I had to sit and pause. I thank you for the expression of life therein.
Uzilicious...I'm speechless...very abstract indeed. Therein I was foced to pause also. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 4:46:10 PM | Rocking chair Dementia
Morning screamed awake
Awaken morning screamed.
The rays gleaming from the sun
Reflected off of granddad’s windowpane…
As he rocked early morning away his chair;
Grandpa’s cigar is LOUD…we smell grandpa’s favorite.
He keeps uttering in low chant…
Grandma’s name…
As if to beckon the dead to flesh;
He pats his knee gently…
Before the rushing waves come in…
Sister says: “grandpa is due his time.”
We love grandpa…
But we surely can’t ignore what we forbid…
Grandma should be real happy soon. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 8:45:20 PM | The venal bride...
Coupe de grace
Notwithstanding
A million different faces
Atop the crucible
Aside yonder the black beast
Ad Nauseam it is
Lilith is most hated
Caveat emptor
Of the blasé love,
With the venal bride | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 9:00:13 PM | I see I saw….
The Cul-de-sac afflictions I suffer,
Sitting in a puddle of mental bleeding illusion;
Thereat,
This mangy retriever,
Licks my putrid wound…what bitter-sweetness!
Now the dirty mutt snarls at me.
I snarl back.
The mangy mutt is set affright.
What a benighted sight…
What a benighted life. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 9:41:38 PM | Thoughts at play....
words...,masters of thier own disquise...
not so hidden,easily revealed
to the ones whom the love of truth resides.
The spoken words can not be broken
truth can not live a lie.
The truth is never hidden
for those whose hearts and minds seek an all divine
It is our appetite,
desires,passions,emotions....
this living breathing creature......
all in one,but still,only one soul to be found,
trying to find this temporary place,...where all is as it should be.
Just know,.. there are not short cuts........and there is no middle ground..
And as one roams, thoughts unwinding,
wandering through endlessly....
where shall ye rest,....with no innerpeace..nowhere to hide....
Don't be lost,find your way.....
twelve gates to get inside.......... | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 9:49:57 PM | | You art assuredly a most captivating poet, casheyesblond.... | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/18/2007 11:34:28 PM | So it is what it is…
One passion free…
…to burn in the furnace….
Look at that facetious grin…
…reminds me of Satan’s face...
I just smirk in return…
I was borne to play naïve….
Each touched deeply…
A place in that empty wilderness…
Where the doves are now gloomy…
The burning ice never melts…
The raining snow is sulfur…
The bears refuse to eat…
The fish can’t swim…
And the jackals are out of laughs…
But it was fun…
It was unique…
It was me…
It was you. | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/20/2007 4:13:38 PM | So thoroughly laced with grace
A million mile run
Up against the leopard to face
Notwithstanding, today’s lethargically drumming pace
The Leopard glistens in the benighted sun
Un-mercurial spots drenched in the rages of fun
The haunt has merely begun
As the spectators vigil from afar
Visually scarred, naïve and dumb
Art is in the makings
Aesthetically undertaking this vision
But the leopard is only accustom to one vision
How simple the living
Without the weight of conceptualized sinning
I roam freely with the angelic leopard
Leaping the insurmountable hives
Ravishing the sheep with no respect for the Shepard
In spite of veneer, we see the self-aggrandized in disguise
The desert is in thirst
The humidity is laden without compunction
But the leopard sees it as no curse
It’s nature, and hence, we must function
At times the crimes are seemingly vicious
The enormity of the blood shed
Caused by the leopard’s innate convictions
How many partially breathing carcasses lay dead?
This is sheer madness to the feeble at heart
The froward nature of the leopard’s motion
From calm and poised to ravishing apart
Somewhat similar to the mentally spotted human hosting the part
The leopard ambles through the soul’s dungeon
Without trepidation of inevitable conflict, nor thought of repercussion
Inherently geared for the plunge-upon
In this belly of the vapid beast, memories we perish upon
I am one with the leopards mind
My spots too are un-mercurial mimes
Frozen as if stiff my last of a warring kind
Yet transparently transcending space and time
Look deep within the One Spirit irony
The leopard therein
Graced with this laudable tyranny
Wherein I relish in witnessing the blessed then
The climbing of heights against the fierce winds
The leopard and I art one
The leopard and I
Loyal to the deadening done | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/20/2007 5:03:20 PM | AM...an incredibly moving poem....the leopard strength is in its integrity and impeccability
as well as having the ability to embrace the unknown.....qualities you yourself are strong in | |
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| Abstract...
Posted: 2/20/2007 5:19:51 PM | | Awesome write AM.....Truly in tune with your inner self.....All I can say is.......wow. | |
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