Ordinary Times (poetic Prose)
(In three parts: "Ordinary Times")
Whenever I've traveled - since the age of nineteen years old - I've stepped down into the so called under - world,
with more of a mind of an explorer,
yet at times I've got caught in this motley world, in which has made me thankful of my youth, and strength,
to escape it, lest I become buried in it...
It has of course, humbled me in spirit to have witnessed and lived this passage of life -
Having a distorted life indeed, has made me, thankful.
In Seattle per near starving to death,
nearly robbed, and rain drenched, yet finding work because of my youth and strength -
In San Francisco, I eaten at the Mission House, slept on porches.
In St. Paul,
I slept in my car three months, once...
All kinked up, mangled
may enter a disordered head,
Distorted sounds like wild hair, indecipherable
elements that never amount to a relevant word
Because it is the screeching in the clamor, the clatter,
the uproar in the battle, but just tell me have you ever seen blood dripping from the canal of an unwanted ear
Yet this is how it shall pervade in small water deep rivers a proximal entry to the brain So there may be nothing else that you can do other than to grimace, facial expressions,
stretched skin at the outer edge, the corners of a mouth that have been burnt and battered for too many unkind remarks and unpolished pearls, see it simmering there, efforts to bring the new world rising
for it will bring the nomads to the flatland, desolate grass an uncomfortable place
It could start just about anywhere
but you can be assured that the flames
will be burning hot and bright, white heat
like the end of a poker cast into a beleaguered eye
For the point of entry might be as tragic as it hurts,
the arrival of a foreign reality so distant
but carefully cured because over the years you have
become quite accustomed to the images that have originated
in the external world before they have become
an integrated history that have allowed you to attach meaning to symbols, the golden pitch of a yellow one, someone who is afraid to crash and glow
So allow the flicker, the spark, the gutter, the glimmer
to create uncertain bands of color, disparate patterns in heavy smoke,
alternating witchcraft, signs, tokens, figures and marks excruc...
Just at that moment I came out of the café, a man emerged from the corner of the park pavilion, at Como Park, that stood alongside the edge of the building's corner. An odd sense of familiarity made me do a double take on him. But the man had done an about-turn, and was walking rapidly the other way, away from me, as if about to walk around Lake Come, a half mile walk. There was something about the slope of his shoulders, and outlying of his short curly hair between his neck collar and slump hat that aroused vague memories for me. I quickened my pace, trying to think those thoughts that formed hidden in my brain about this person. Who could it be in those long and baggy and faded overalls and jacket-shirt that said "Como Park Custodian?"
I paused, as he turned about, looked straight int...
1) A thousandYears from this EraThe scientist, the astrophysicists, theAnthropologist, archeologist, and geologist:The psychologist, and the philosopher-God has their weary bones, their souls in checked!...They are but naked jungle huntersIn a primitive kingdom, with primeval kings:Still a thousand years from their era in which, manIs to be born into a clear field of spaceTo see and understand God and his cosmos!-and the ample ventilation of those trulyOpen doors, at each end of God's Universe.12-1-2014/No: 46432) Tomorrow's SunI have no one to comfort me in my old age,but my semi, old wife!My children-stooped low-pass betweenone day to the other!Days to them are like chains of acorns thathave fallen beneath the pine...I am content though.The joy of these latter years has taught me:Yesterd...
Avoid the trap as it is the only thing
that you can do
Yet you know that it has happened
many times before
Jaws of iron, a maniacal shard of steel,
all of it the result of a planted seed,
the meat of a beastly animal
rolled-up into a precious piece of tweed
This is where the stitch and gap might begin to unravel,
depending on the tailor's mood and the order of the day
as misery loves company something that was never meant
to be concealed
Life as a magician might have been appealing but let's be serious, such an existence
requires cleverness and the ability to deliver an impressive sleight of hand
If it had ever been in the cards we would not have seen you here stuck inside
a springe, a gospel or a gin, trying to avoid the ambush of a bloody battle
the confinement of the will for this cou...
Not This Song - Never (Quatern Poetry)In the night the song waves start to disappear
Like white trees, when there is no one their fall to hear.
Earth's shadow hides the moon, a harp without strings.
Lasting love shines on crazy engagement rings.
What does love mean, when the elves come life to cheer?
In the night the song waves start to disappear,
And in the moonlight your feelings become blue.
The flowers cry for our time with tears of dew.
Bud butterflies become whispers in our dreams
To complete our entwining in the life's streams.
In the night, the song waves start to disappear
On the moon, a double-meaning pamphleteer.
The green knows that through the darkness shines the light.
And love has sense, when the saints pray for the height.
And life blooms, when the God's angels hurry near.
Poem for Oscar Wilde (Villanelle)Against the British philistinism Oscar Wilde contrived,And loved the saints approaching to the perfection of God.In prison, through the poet St. Francis his soul revived.Of a poetic life, by Isaacson, he was deprived.To Bosie he addressed a letter wanting Christ to laud.Against the British philistinism Oscar Wilde contrived.To hear that Alfred published his letters, he was surprised.Crying like Marsyas, with pauper friends he made a squad.In prison, through the poet St. Francis his soul revived.Douglas denounced him; from the church his ideas derived.While addressing sonnets, his manner to accuse was odd.Against the British philistinism Oscar Wilde contrived.Walking in his dreams with Jesus, at Emmaus he arrived.To live in humility and Light, Oscar gave the...
In a deep chamber she excels,
delivering the instrument
black leather strips, sharpened whips
Bare backed, naked buttocks, torn nipples,
severed penis, it happens quite slowly
in an act of extraordinary discipline,
admiration for the devil, mercy of the angels
Under a flame of white light there are demons, evil spirits, savages and ghouls, this is where the worlds collide
in ritual, brutal attacks, ghastly assaults, never missing
the point, in depravity mangling the body for those who are considerate and harsh, degeneration, scandalous merit, those ripped apart, still born, conflicted and always frayed, unravel the hard parts, disentangle them from the forest, the wilderness, the indubitable spark, the inner self, the life force,
the wild bushland, the woodland, the mulberr...
In the world where the crazy snow spins around,Where the seas threaten with an abrupt wave,Where at times one waits for the kindly item of news for a long while.It is very necessary for each of us to know that there is happiness on the earth.We wish you happiness andGood luck in this big world!May it comes into your house in the wayAs in the mornings the sun does it.We wish you happiness,And it should be such one -When you are happy,Share your happiness with another!In the world where there is no rest to winds,Where the cloudy sunrise happens,Where on the long journey one often dreams about homeIt is necessary both in a thunder-storm and in a snowfallSo that someone's glance of the very kind eyes should warm you.In the school's window some clouds peep up,The lesson seems endless.The creak ...