Last Commented Ode Poems (275)

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VIII

I
There is much beauty for all to see
With the eyes of faith and simplicity
For even the night flaunts its thrilling craft
With stars and scents and the breezy draught
II
The hills, the mountains and the gentle shower
The bowery green and the fragrant flower
In every space, around and beneath
The grandeur, resplendent, a legacy bequeath
III
And who could miss that most gentle art?
The innocent smile of the simply heart
And all around, subdued or just wild
The boundless mirth of a little child
IV
My heart takes flight when I would see
The impossible voyage of a honey bee
The soil knows how and when seeds should grow
The lightning, the thunder and the simple things we know
V
Yes, there is beauty in all we can see
Friendship and family and all we can be
There is sound and silence and music as well
Beauty is a language no words can compel
VI
Laughter is beautiful oh, what a sound
It raises the spirit, the soul is unbound
Happiness and love, the heart lingers near
Yes, there is beauty, most everywhere

Curled and furled against ones own skin

the hearing of the heart beat

Alive!

sudden sweeping waves

Who's there?

then creeping
entwined
within the unknown

So beautifully structured

the loss of walls being silence

Alone

A secret peep
Shall I come above my scoria

One only knowes

Forcast

the mind of what was before
angst unruly
shall it be


a mind of matter?

Glorious to seek
Shall I lift this lid?

To only dance open eyed
unfolded

when I was a kid

I, as a twig, placed upon healthy ground,
was then covered with good soil and sand.
Appearing as one 'dead', indeed profound
that some future day I'd beautify the land!

While covered with earth secure and warm,
no fears nor fret for some weeks to come.
As I patiently laid there, as one to be born,
to a bright new life,... yet feared by one.

Tis the weed that's born with trembling fear
as it's fragile life is considered but waste.
But as a 'ROSE', my life is indeed secure,
since by few am I of intolerable taste.

As I grow, I receive a gardener's best care,
while the poor weed is simply cut & burned.
Tis sad to see the poor weed tremble there,
as he fears rejection and mankind's spurn.

For weeks by the shivering weed I laid,
not much different from him indeed,
But once my grower distinction has made,
Tis "Welcome Rose" and "Good-bye weed!"

It's sad in losing a close familiar friend,
that grew abreast my very own side.
But worse than that, the fatal end,
of the life of one who desperately tried,

For all his worth to be his very best,
in blossom and in gorgeous bloom.
As by my side poor weed grew abreast
the one who sealed his certain doom.

A 'ROSE' indeed, in full glorious array,
with all my gleaming splendor shown.
Yet sad I am each long remorseful day,
for the horrible end of one I've known.

Who by my side through sun and rain,
and the fiercest weather's beaten test,
did not so much as groan nor complain,
but offered to me sweet comforting rest.

As shade he offered in hot summer sun,
and strength against stiff blowing wind.
My dear friend the weed will be the one,
of whose un-forgotten grave I'll send,

A fragrant bouquet composed of 'ME',
as a tribute to my dear faithful friend.

Standing here in front of you, you’ve already made your assumption,
That this white boy talking is going to spit about some dumb shit.
You observe my posture and follow my words,
Debating with yourself whether I’m a geek or nerd.
You give me five more seconds and then start to sway,
Content with your vision of who I am here standing today.
Yet there’s more to me that has yet to be uncovered,
Like the fact that I have many siblings, I’m one of five brothers.
Add two more sisters and your image starts to switch,
Like a trigger on a pistol, your hand starts to twitch.
Your attention is focused waiting on my next revelation,
Hoping that I will reveal some personal information.
But the truth is I cannot sum myself in this short time,
The best I can do is leave you with your image refined.
I’m a hopeless romantic who believes love is for simpler minds.
Still I search the world hoping for that one lucky find.
I bar hop on weekends, go to my frat parties wearing toga's,
but still manage to find time to meditate and do yoga.
I'm awkward, pessimistic, and sometimes arrogant,
but when my shining moment comes you better believe I can handle it.
I have a small dog with the heart of a lion,
everlasting friends and a map to Zion.
But none of this matters when I think of myself,
My essence can not be recorded and stored on a shelf.
To try and define me would take more than a dictionary,
You can google me but my thoughts aren't binary.
Instead you can meet me, maybe chill and smoke some weed,
Allow me to introduce myself and plant a seed.
I know I got baggage, a dumpster full of debris,
but at least you'll leave my company knowing that you don't know me.

I
Death has no powers or state to rule
Life is all there is on this simple plane
No death, no darkness, only the Light
For in The Master’s plans, there’s no dread night
II
And when the gloom descends and settles here
And the heart makes quick journeys, from fear to fear
The shadows hurt only, in their misty guise
The storms and the fury are the enemy's lies
III
And then the morning breaks and the Light declares
That the shadows must flee, in haste and away
Now rest quietly from your fear-filled work
Shadows are not able or near you to lurk
IV
The Father’s Will has you in mind
A Restful port in a world declined
Fear holds no state in His Holy plan
Just Grace, and more Grace to every man

I
Oh barren field, oh field of arid slumber
Fate has deferred her promised strength;
The dawn has spent its vaunted power
And age now marks each hasty hour
II
But Grace has held its tender course
Through the noise and the quiet shores
And then from heaven, softly and true
Came rain, and Flower and a life made new
III
And in the midst of the lively fray
Divine intent came into view
And now, in splendor, new worlds appear
Joyous, more glorious, and fair
IV
And all the days of loss and longing
Were the misty breath of a past, afar
For kindred souls have found their centre
At home, at last, in God’s due order
V
And from sun to sun, the day’s unchanging
The moon shall hold no nightly phase
So perils swell, with threats to scare
But Mercy’s path finds no rivals here
VI
And when the droughts shall have dared to come
Raising dust and fostering fear
Field and Flower shall sing their song
With grateful voices, loud and long

master oshiba was in the garden looking at the clouds,
a young disciple came and thought :
-looking at the clouds I will reach the enlightment..
after a long moment,master oshiba said to the disciple:
-you are the buddah amitaba !
-really ? cried out the disciple,delighted..
master oshiba took his stick , hit the disciple
and retorted :
-stupid buddah ,stop to be so irreverent with my clouds!

last spring..
hell..no..last century..
he came veiled
unsuspected
and sarcastic...

last monday he borrowed me 10 bucks
and flew awake
silent in the rain
the solent was devastated..
unfertlized soils..

one hour ago..I went..
o
night to remember..

I passed my right away
slaughtered by the gemini cricket effect..

wrong moral,folks..

never lend 10 bucks before dying..

I like bananas
bananas are nice