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God is a referee

Fire is to burn and he will burn,
No matter who is the victim.
Air is to fill and he will fill
All the space without prejudice.
Water is to wash that it does
With no relevance to the places.
The earth is to bear that it does,
With no bias to the kickers.
It’s their nature, hence their virtues.

The ground is not accountable
For the goals scored or wounds sustained.
The collective acts of the players
Result the individuals’ fate.

Bound by fire, air, water and the earth,
One’s rise and fall is the result
Of the collective acts of the live force.
The God is mere a referee.
07.10.2008

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Windows To The Soul

Nature opens,
her eyes are bold.
Two opaque puddles reflecting on the floor.

Her smile's afixiated.
without feeling at all,
a white rip in the sky,
and entangled vine hands
seem to hold my attention
long enough to gaze,
to be lost in her eyes
and see the scene of her choice.
Upside down copper trees
and dark,
brass colored leaves.

So inviting,
soothing, is her voice,
greeting you, passing through
to the scene of her choice.

[...] Read more

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Words to Mom When I Was a Teen

I wish I could let you know, Mom
How much you mean to me
But words can't even begin to
Make you really see

How much I really love you, Mom
How much I hold you dear
And I won't even think about
Life without you here

Ours is a hard relationship
But no matter how odd
There's respect, caring, and loyalty
And love, given to us by God

And as I'm writing this poem, Mom
The tears stream down my face
And I think about our past, Mom
And words I can't erase

[...] Read more

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Sexy

Babe,
I find you
So incredibly
Sexy
That
Sex
If it
Sees you
Will seethe
With jealousy ;)

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Gods Of War And Reason

Life is controlled by the Gods of War
No man can escape his part in this role
The thirst for power and drive for control
Is an all consuming fire that burns in his soul

For the Gods of Reason, a small part in the show
For reason takes time and is much too slow
Man however is impatient and cruel
Power consumes life and burns like a fuel

The reason in man is tempered by time
Power after all, needs no reason or rhyme
Reason is a luxury to the race of man
No other species thinks that far in advance

If a drive for power appears or exists
The Gods of War slay all who resist
If only the Gods of Reason ruled the race of man
Life would have been peaceful, from the time it began

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The Adieu

We part, and thou art mine no more!
I go through seas never sought before,
Where stars unknown to our native skies
Startle the mariner's watchful eyes.
Our bark shall over the waters sweep,
And rouse the children of the deep:
Around us, 'midst the silvery spray,
With glittering scales shall the dolphins play.
When scarcely flutters the snowy sail,
Gently waved by the whispering gale,
I shall gaze in the ocean's liquid glass,
And mark the hidden treasures we pass:
The amber and coral groves that glow
In the sparkling sunbeams that dart below,
Whose lucid and spreading boughs between
Countless flitting forms are seen.
Oh! could I beneath the billows dive,
And in that world of splendour live!
Were there a cave for thee and me
Beneath that bright and silent sea,

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I am Creation A Creative Force/Agent of Existence

I am creation
A creation of
existence

an agent of existence
endowed with the power to create

Though I create I'm not God
Don't Let Creators fool you
into divisive worship of themselves

God exists as eternal existence
A loving force embracing
creators and creations
all unique forms
with love alike and equal

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John Gay

The Shepherd's Week : Friday; or, The Dirge

Bumkinet, Grubbinol


Bumkinet.
Why, Grubbinol, dost thou so wistful seem?
There's sorrow in thy look, if right I deem.
'Tis true, yon oaks with yellow tops appear,
And chilly blasts begin to nip the year;
From the tall elm a shower of leaves is borne
And their lost beauty riven beeches mourn.
Yet ev'n this season pleasance blithe affords,
Now the squeez'd press foams with our apple hoards.
Come, let us hie, and quaff a cheery bowl,
Let cyder new wash sorrow from my soul.

Grubbinol.
Ah Bumkinet! since thou from hence wert gone,
From these sad plains all merriment is flown;
Should I reveal my grief 'twould spoil thy cheer,
And make thine eye o'erflow with many a tear.

[...] Read more

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A Sweet Peal

Her beauty and her love lay on the bed,
Of her sweet peal of the glowing lovely breasts;
The kisses of this night will always be remembered.
She is delicate, soft and intense;
Mixed with fresh odour from her muse,
And like the sweet peal anew on a hot summer night.
The sprout of love in her room and,
In her garden of love i do sleep all night;
And of her joy in the light of the gentle sun,
But the sensitive plant in her garden of love matters to me.
Of the power of love in this sweet place,
And of her sweet peal of the glowing lovely breasts;
But like young lovers filled with the mutual atmosphere.
Alone in this sweet glory land,
And of her love like a sea-flower unfold;
But naked and bare from the frozen air,
And so pleasant to a taste if one considers it.
The lady's gentle mind,
And of where nothing is but all seems to be well;
Cold and foul and deep and low!

[...] Read more

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A Hope Without Resolution

Hopes, ambitions, aspirations,
They are useless if not marked by graveness,
Keep on weaving the trap,
Who prevents you?
You may think to conquer the Everest
Without any solid planning,
You may dream of being a millionaire,
While your pocket is penniless,
And your efforts are not up to the mark,
Always remember that without sincerity and resolution,
Your hopes end in smoke,
And your dreams are shattered.

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