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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/3/2007 9:21:45 PM | These threads
lacking very much so the grit and subdued wit
Lunch, Travel, Office, Summer House and more
Choose
a job
you will never have to
softly
plant a cantaloupe garden
with Jumping Koko
no GMOs here pal
the Cvckatoo Quartet
and a
work day in your
Confucius high on pot existence
grow old because we grow old
because we do work
Margaritaville in the Bahama Mama
and other more interesting things
to catch a cat
on that sandy beach
imagine that | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/3/2007 9:23:50 PM | Jules,you have a beautiful soul...When we love others with our father's love,
we will sometimes feel his pain as well....You are a friend and inspiration to everyone  | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 10:13:40 AM | Jules, you speak from the heart, and this is why your poems are felt. I have not the answers! Humans are a difficult variable to figure out. I wish you peace of mind!
Shadowriter, awesome write, as usual you keep us wondering!
Casheyesblond, a true angel! I thank you for the warmth that you show to us all.
Uzilicious, it’s good to see you again. Your abstract poems are very labyrinth.
-------------
War Of the Mind!
Moonish Spiritual warfare
Hast rift the mind sorely
To see hatred of the fickle
To touch bloody gravel
Often seeing that I’ve
Ambled through this grave before
I walk out bravely
Haunted by grim thoughts
That linger
Despite the favor of God
How tell me that light is all consuming
When so many choose Death?
The heaviness
Is it normal?
My Father!
My bulwark!
My Fortress!
Let me breathe in thy whole soul! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 11:03:37 AM | Life is normal life when one thought, becomes a building block for the next thought that passes the next set of nerves the conscious mind. When you get to where I am now this will be obvious to you. Webster's dictionary calls it presence of mind, something very few people have today. It is when the soul is a peace, with itself. I wish I could say I had always had this but that would not be the truth.
It is a very humbling experience when you find you've been blindsided by your past, thinking the whole time you when you what you were doing. We all deserve to be beat for something we do today. For so long we let things slide we knew needed attention but was unwilling to face the music. I'm just glad to be telling you there is a cure. When you're able to just realize you only control you, and no one else. Expectations we all have them of the mate we would like.
That's why I come as a friend, for this is the way it should start. Expectations and qualities are two different animals. The qualities I seek can be found in 10 simple written in stone, so long ago. This is the foundation of my piece in my heart today. That I share with each and everyone that reads this today and any other day from this day forward. You have the right to think anything you want to think about what I'm writing.
Is just your next step in life. Be careful be good or be good at it, but always remember give thanks for without God there would be no moon and stars for you to sit under while you search for soul mate that is right in front of you. While you sit and gaze into the depths of the stars in front of you.   | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 6:29:02 PM | as Mathews rejected stone cast
now be capstone
as done by the Lord
to marvel our eyes
so cast is he who be not alike in hearts of others
but behold the differences
behold all the glory that be
for blind are the eyes of man
unwilling to see beyond preconceptions
behold all greatness in the differences of others
and behold His glory
shadowriter
inspired by Mathew 21:42 Mark 12:10 Luke 20:17 | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 7:31:45 PM | lonely world ...alleys in the night
garbage strewn filth bathed den
away with the sins of man
unknown of the greatness of his words
for cast in this dungeon be those who society has cast
alone walking as shadows of mankinds nightly heart
astray
out of mind
but never out of reach be they
for words of loving hope can cut through ink blackness night
alowing be felt the Love
allowing freedom
cast thee free ...o slave of the realm
undo thy bonds of servitude to mans shallow ways
free of bondage
released of the pain
Caiaphas' plot has freed all of mankind
he of Herod who's words Christs rebirth
did unleash
forgiveness for all men
ye of shadows dark
come gather as the flock
and rest in safety of the shephard
and feel true life
life of pureity
life of forgiveness
life of life
be that his gift
shadowriter | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 7:33:47 PM | ~~~*Freedom*~~~
A longing to be
Unrepentant and unmourned
A wish to
Set the whirlwind loose upon the sea and tear the sky asunder
Let the feeble flames of a hollow and shallow hell burn
I need not fear thee
I fall beyond purview, beyond impotent rage
I have seen inside myself
I have seen what lies beyond this pathetic bag of water
I will
Smash the glass cages of doubt and fear
Let tumble the walls
Let the blood of freedom run
Scream
Scream
Scream so that dreams might hear and awaken
© RoxyRoxRocker™ | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/4/2007 8:47:25 PM | Hey Roxy, let's stir is pot together. Only that other people could smile and realize just how close he really is. As I walked the roads of my life I'm hearing the sounds of my youth all around me. Here I sit on top of monkey rock, I childhood hang out for the boys, and yes we knew we were boys. We were watching real men, these man today are few and far between.
When I set on monkey rock it was a thinking place for a boy feel that is mind run wild on what he could do next. Today when I so much a rock that I will be moved is because of my time on monkey rock. Thinking is a man's game, but behind every good man you'll find a better Woman. Speak out she knows I listen, it has nothing to do with my final decision. But I am prepared to explain my reasons. Without reason your wrong, if your reasons are correct in the best for all that's within the house. This responsibility was given to man by God and my house this is a must. We have only 10 rules written in stone!   | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 4:38:08 PM | Joshua---- I just wanted to share this here, thanks for your thread
April 5, 2007
Info on self project (Abstract)
( just a project for class )
What about me, sets me apart?
"In my idealistic youth I sought justice as a means to discovery."
I'm politically active on a global scale. In 1848 I thwarted an entire revolution in Warsaw Poland, using only a quill pen and parchment paper. I stand for human rights and always strive to see if I can lend my words to a worthy cause.
In 1889 I worked in consort with Gustave Eiffel on designing the most remarkable structure ever conceived of in France. I'm a carpenter in my mind and a laborer that never shies away from a complex task. On the banks of the Seine she sits as a marvel of modern architecture to this day.
In 1906 I began work with Henry Ford on the design and practical application of the "Tin Lizzie", also known as the "Model T. " Streamlining the production process with automation, let it be realized that the automobile would be a huge part of our lives for many years to come. When I look back on it I might have suggested Bio-Diesel as alternative then, but we didn't have the technology to turn banana peels into horsepower.
In 1929 I was a fireman in New York City. A simple life of a humble, yet brave man. I remember this one evening several men jumped from high rise buildings. It was all we could do to run with a ladder crew from one call to the next. They jumped to their deaths that night, and over nothing but money. In the end, money put food on the table, they couldn't stand to see their families go hungry.
On a hot August night in 1945 my most shameful contribution to society was realized. I didn't know when we split the atom that it would destroy the very fabric of our security. Our lives were at stake, I felt we could find another way to take control, but this was the easy way. When "Little Boy" was dropped my throat constricted and I shed tears for eyes that were shaped different from my own. Hiroshima will always have my sincerest apologies.
In 1952 I helped Mother Teresa put together an absolutely outrageous spaghetti feed, enough to feed twenty five hundred and fifty five people. Still ranking second in the The Guinness Book of World Records, just behind Jesus feeding the multitudes. They called it "Pasta Stock."
One of my proudest achievements in life occurred on July 20th, 1969 when I was the first earthling to touch foot upon the face of the moon. Due to an advanced cloaking algorithm I was never seen in video footage, my patent invisibility potion kept me in hiding, allowing me to advance to my next important task.
In the early 1970's I worked alongside the Central Intelligence Agency, also known as the CIA. I spent many twenty hour days sitting in a dark red Mini Cooper reading the London Times. I never advanced to 007 status, but 005 was good enough to allow entry into most of the critical espionage circles.
I began a new life around this time, so sometimes vagueness in my message is apparent. I was actually born 1968, my double life consists of a double meaning from then to the present. I grew up on a rural dirt road on the south end of town. Not a farm boy, not an upper class gent, just a kid with a great family, and a Dad that read Poe. My mother was best friends with the virgin Mary, and my brother taught me how to get my ass kicked on the basketball court.
My mind spins historical memories from books. It looks to the future, while it shows an accountability for the past. I'm not responsible personally for the successes and failures of who we are as a society. I only long to illuminate the darkness within my old soul, showing where we can go if we only live to dream.
Tenz | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 5:53:30 PM | Tenz, you do know how to make a soul think...touching. Probably not what you were looking for, must be my mood...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~*On Dreams*~~~
What good are dreams?
If you can’t live them
Are they only there for escaping
True reality of pain
To strive to attain
Treasures of the mind
Brings happiness
For such a short time
How can dreams equate trepidation?
When realization of goals
Brings such contentment
And long term happiness?
Fear is the obstacle of dreams
It halts the journey to one’s truest self
Placing limitations and constrictions
Making the heart grow cold.
Isn’t it safer to not reach?
For the stars or for the moon
Knowing that in the end
You will have gained nothing?
Or is life more enhanced
Making the effort
Searching for more
On a never-ending expedition?
© RoxyRoxRocker™ | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 6:36:16 PM | .
The Dream
By Sylvia Platt
'Last night,' he said, 'I slept well
except for two uncanny dreams
that came before the change of weather
when I rose and opened all
the shutters to let warm wind feather
with wet plumage through my rooms.
'In the first dream I was driving
down the dark in a black hearse
with many men until I crashed
a light, and right away a raving
woman followed us and rushed
to halt our car in headlong course.
'Crying, she came to the island
where we stopped, and with a curse
demanded that I pay a fine
for being such a rude assailant
and damaging the whole unseen
lighting plant of the universe.
'Behind me then I heard a voice
warning me to hold her hand
and kiss her on the mouth for she
loved me and a brave embrace
would avoid all penalty.
"I know, I know," I told my friend.
'But yet I waited to be lined
and took the woman's bright subpoena
(while she washed the way with tears),
then drove to you upon the wind.
I do not tell you the nightmare
which occurred to me in China.'
An unconventional break away from writing in first person, one of my favorite authors, Sylvia Platt always shows me a tormented soul. I see this dream sequence as nothing more than a subtle way to offer imagery into a piece that paints a picture of a love story. As tragic as her life was, turning the tables and writing as a man tells me how she longed to understand men. This view lends itself well to capturing that desperate, pleading kind of love. Only from the viewpoint of a woman, could such an account be understood.
A man driving along in a hearse, could only be representative of that lonely feeling we have without that kind of love in our lives. A simple car accident with a light post shows me a generalized situation of difficulty that pops up in our daily lives. The woman chastising him for the accident puts his back against the wall and he feels cornered.
Along comes his friend, his confidant, and most likely his lover. She reassures him that her hand is there to hold. As he realizes that she is there for him, his whole being is consoled and he knows that no matter what challenges he stands to face in life, she will be by his side.
In particular I love this style because it just makes me feel comforted. The kind of love that you experience at difficult times in life, is the kind of love I feel that this poem represents. Like lying in the hospital facing surgery and having that special person there to hold your hand.
In the final stanza the realization of this love is expanded on. With tears and trust, she is offering a respite for him. With that he offers his trust in return. I get a great sense that the man and woman feel that they can shares secrets together. Isn't that want we all want from romantic love? To be able to share, trust, and experience that with one other soul. I think so.
Tenz | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 6:44:12 PM | lamentations
anguish in captivity
remembering Zion
sat we by the rivers of Babylon broken hearted
where hang high our harps
those who plunderd myrth requested harp songs of Zion
daughters of Baylon
Sons of Edom
remember they
as ye are repaid | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 8:20:45 PM | Drhook54, you are truly amazing! I thank you for sharing such wisdoms with us all!
Shadowriter, your poems are intricately woven together in the most enthralling fashion; I too thank you for placing such writes in this thread.
Swetroxrocker, you have the most enchanting rhythms there present in your poems, you delicately create a masterpiece with every awakening!
Tenz, very ingenious! I thank you for the historical overview. I like the sense of connection you depict. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 8:22:16 PM | Whelmed in murderous visions
…the stars have become dim
On the most luminous of nights
…how is it that slaves despise freedom?
Fugacious is a man’s plea!
…beg not the complaisant soul to breathe
For he shall hate you for this!
…instead, pretend that the sun is without light
The earth is without shape
…while extending harmony in lies
Help the slave to hide from himself
…and he shall forever love you! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 8:36:29 PM | thanks for the words of encouragement
Great write btw....
the stalker walks in shadows lair
beware
beware
for this place of darkness cast of bitter sunlight doth seeth the soul to deepest depths
unleashing darkness upon your heart and breast
beul does wonder these sunken realms
seeking foolish voyagers of quest unworthy
beware of he of sullen eyes as stalks does he
stalking the stalker
shadowriter | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 8:40:17 PM | Sing a song of sixpence
a pocket full of rye
vestigial poor dastard of happenstance
everyone has to die
The way of a man seems right
however misconstrued
even megadeath reconfigured is nothing new
High are the ways and mighty are the deeds
undulatingly in ubiquity sowing eternal seeds
manifested in electron phase with lipstick and baby oil craze
anagram of a lifetime like this
New York Times = Monkeys Write
see what I mean jelly bean?
The hunter in Orion stays
with constellation beauty
while walking into traffic
streamlined starstruck duty
a bowed rider aims for the mark
the tail of a comet
well, that's just for short
he should have stayed in after dark
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 10:10:37 PM | cool writes everyone...and always,I anticipate your writes NW,as they
help me explore my own freedom of thoughts...your'e quite amazing! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 10:10:41 PM | Namaste dear Joshua...blessed are we that you share a part of your soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Impassioned portrait sketched in words of lust,
Enticing me to reconsider all.
It traces doubt with grey upon my trust
And intimations hide behind the scrawl.
Relinquish every preconceived intent,
And paint my face with violet crystal tears.
I cannot take them back, so I relent,
And let the brushstrokes cover all my fears.
The sharpened edges blur with every hue -
Impressionist emotions, tinged with red.
I dip my fingers lightly into blue
And dare to replicate those things unsaid.
Kandinsky never could imagine these
Colors of my heart’s geometries.
© RoxyRoxRocker™ | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 10:47:46 PM | Wow! Roxy,just wow!...and I'll tell ya why,smilin'
You surpass Kandinsky......
for he could never turn a pen into a paint-brush,
giving us this vivid art of expression,
softly layering true emotion,
with the many colors we paint the heart..... | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/5/2007 10:58:50 PM |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Impassioned portrait sketched in words of lust,
Enticing me to reconsider all.
It traces doubt with grey upon my trust
And intimations hide behind the scrawl.
Relinquish every preconceived intent,
And paint my face with violet crystal tears.
I cannot take them back, so I relent,
And let the brushstrokes cover all my fears.
The sharpened edges blur with every hue -
Impressionist emotions, tinged with red.
I dip my fingers lightly into blue
And dare to replicate those things unsaid.
Kandinsky never could imagine these
Colors of my heart’s geometries.
holy smokes roxxxxxxxxxxx
wowee.... I might have to go to bed early tonight............
let me breathe
I dip my fingers lightly into blue***********
how did you do this, wonderful in mind........... I love this work!!!!
Tenz | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/6/2007 3:11:17 PM | There is the
secret thing that
heads out and now gleams has seen
enough to stamp out flaming ducks
big changes for energy crux
the limitless multiplication of
your own, but you have but one too many
I wasted time and untold hopes
and responsibility
I speak with the bones of lawyers
superfluous
useless as a fitness center
in a paraplegic ward
moving along like a jellyfish
in the currents
or mebbe yur mind
is too far ahead
teasing the curve
or just behind
you once again
this time its all
Good Friday
or just the same again to say
Thank God Its Friday | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/6/2007 9:08:16 PM | I summon the muses, women, men, hearts, lovers.
From silence I summon little-death-rattles of sound as it speaks,
as it captures the essence of chromatic, atonal, pentatonic songs.
I demand for a refuge to stash in my volumes, my memories,
sonorities, textbooks, aggressions, world-view philosophies, bones.
I am torn, as the night settles in, between drinkers of fire,
of acid, of blood,
of lazy arousals in mornings of cold.
There are differences of texts, of souls, of paths,
of long readings and shouts.
To luck, leave no place.
In the twilight, I linger on shapes, on clothes, on skins.
On lips that warm up the tenderness.
I prefer your eyes. They are the path I choose.
My fire.
© RoxyRoxRocker™ | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/6/2007 11:39:42 PM | Shadowriter,
“beware of he of sullen eyes as stalks does he
stalking the stalker”
You put together some of the most enchanting lines.
A writer in sooth ye art!
Uzilicious,
This is most true. You always walk the reader through many riddles. But I think I’m starting to see. Somewhat that is! Or maybe my suspicious psyche sees what it wishes! Either or, I thank you for the intrigue!
Swetroxrocker, you are a poetical goddess! Each stroke of the key represents the unending depths of thy soul. I thank you for blessing this thread with such writes. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/7/2007 12:31:50 AM | The days have become clear
The nights have become light
To shake the melancholia
Would render me lonely | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 4/7/2007 5:32:00 AM | Thoughts unwinding/
places words together in one place/May I
Freedom of emotions...
Freedom of thoughts...to roam...
Anxiety...sleep is hard to find me.
Certain madness ...aboslute joy.
Just tolerable...one feels empty.
Inspriation is a close friend.
One pass ego...not about me.
Eyes have been washed...so I could see.
Conform to mainstream...no longer viewed as a delusional fool.
Ah yes....but the melancholy.
Gloom and sadness,
to cure one from such inspiration and ecstasy.....
But one must know that the piece of fine china is not ordinary!
It... IS.... set apart.
Seeking out pure reason,
a fountain of reason...
And again,I say,
Darwin has already has his turn....
And it's through one's own painful experiences
and long mental labor,
this deep embodiment...vital core,
resting on that emotional part....yes,the soul knows.
The merchant's vessel sails into the storm
so light your candle and run TO the darkness,
for you know darkness is as light by his grace.
And should it's shadows become a trickery for you,
just know you are never alone in the darkness...our father "dwells" in this place.... | |
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