Most Liked Abstract Poems (471)

1792




Fear gripped his heart
ripped it apart.
His trembling limbs
had knowledge of his sins
Hanging was the game.
Survival was plain-
nonsense he knew.
So right on queue
he, the last one
swung on the gibbet,
until his bones withered.

I think often I wrote this on the 19TH/08/ 2017! 5 hours ago · City of Salford,



Absent seizures, to Anxiety, disassociation to Autism, to disconnect Dyspraxia, And OCD) the English language is atrocious, (baguette) A French loaf” do we speak French, because English, people make no sense to me. Losing balance after all gravity is moving around us, and how the numbers flicker and become mixed up as you are trying to crack codes, then here comes Dyslexia, in simple terms, one cannot spell basic words, does not apply to me.

However, can you get vocal dyslexia? Ie: thinking at such a fast rate the words come out too quick before one has time to think. Furthermore ADD, to my recent research has links to absent seizures. The eyes go funny, you get a feeling of, euphoria, you become hyper IE: Talking fast, becoming confused losing time. Or is the frontal lobe seizure a spiritual awaking out of body experience or neurology related,

OCD, one has unwanted and repeated thoughts, an imagination that can take Steven King, for his money! :-) Anxiety is fear of the unknown I am not “fearless.” I am a risk taker, however, I do not fear heights , A knock on the head is the reason why some people say to the ignorant brainwashed deluded sheep, you need a bang on the head to wake you up.To wake up to reality, to open you're eyes.



Autism, fragile x syndrome has similar traits, I was tested for fragile syndrome as a child, the results came back as a negative, tested for learning disabilities twice came back I do not have a learning disability, I had two doctors mention twice in my childcare files I have autistic traits, but didn’t diagnose me strange. There was mention I used to dissociate myself from reality as a child and went in my own world. What did those people mean by that?

In relation to a conduct disorder that was also mentioned in my child care files, a conduct disorder is Autism, related. Are they worried about diagnosing me with Asperger’s but saying I have it two years ago, if I was diagnosed the Doctors and ones involved will have no choice but to admit they failed me and exploited my human rights!


They talk in riddles, they make no sense, and they talk mumbo jumbo. Due to the lack of insight and incompetence of the healthcare professionals, I force myself to find out the answers myself of hours of extensive research until I get the answers that can be backed up that is not based on hearsay or speculation or exaggeration.

The earth was formless for my unborn soul,
Which was in deep darkness of the deep sleep,
But with your talk, the faint whisper of rain,
You woke .........to open up my eyes.

Now like an eagle I can fly in this sky,
Which you created with colored hues for my soul.
Now I can see the blossoming grass,deep down,
to smell it like your fragrant curly hair.

In this sky of dreams,portrayed with your brush,
like a soaring eagle nurtured with golden rays
Ready to fade into the vanity of the puffy clouds
to fall as a dew drops into the depth of your soul

Even in the bleakness of the cold winter weather,
When lakes breaking into pieces with its subdued soul
Neither I can leave you..nor..forsake you
Even heaven enticed me with its bright eyes.

when people know how good you are, they scared to be closed to you, they think that if they did mistake they might ruined your life unliked if they know how ruined your life is they intend to be closed to think that they could fixed whats wrong with you...

Do you know that shade of red
Existed in any collage of colors
Pastels of fragrance flowers
Never really seem grey and red
Next to an ol' red squirrel
Busting through some autumn leaves
Busy in his own thoughts
Less weary than before
As the seasons change
His life for evermore
What has always been
Season by season begins
With greatness and birth
Why this season ever ends
Mysteries of the Earth

Your wit and brilliance
Your sense of humor unhinged
You made us all laughed, cried
And even dance

Now you're gone
This place mourning in your absence
Could it be that there's a chance
You'll be back
Even just for a glance?

I know you knew we loved you
Adored and even venerated you
As a friend, brother, and perhaps
Even as a lover

Please remember you'll always be
In our hearts
You're not far away
Your writes, your lines
Will forever grace this place

We will always be near you.

We love you Cafe.

May you forever rest in peace.

Where the shadows faded in the deepest places,
Truth yet kept me flying just beneath the wind.
Crossed my mind from inside, vanished sleeping phases,
Sorry for my future, even if I've sinned.

Marble eye of granite stone
Engrained features
Vains in stone
She
Stands aloft
On pyramides high
Gazes down
On commers low
Deathly gaze
Set in stone
For once
Was a block of stone
Now carve
A body for all to see
Imortalized
Now set in stone

THE POEM AND THE SYMPHONY

Time gleans "the sound" from you..
from a distant age gone by.

Body, Neck and Bridge...
Strings, Frets and Keys,
aggregates of this guitarra...

A matrix of wood and bone,
constructs of this Soul.

Embodied in the ink of his pen...
the writer personified -
encrypted in the words,
his art...his life -
each word and rambling
phrase, an incarnation
of the Nous.....truly, an unfettered reflection.

So too, the musician speaks through the sound
of each note...
each note, each phrase,
as if a paragragh...
reflecting sentience and imagination.

Together - they complete the poem
and the symphony...

Separate - they are two strangers
born of a common Mother.

The resonant embrace pierces the
Heart - fingers dancing into a firestorm ....
dissonance long removed, they chase away the distance -
forgetting that some are far removed from this joyful mood.


Mirroring one another, the two strangers renew their bond,
reflecting familiar and a courteous tones, in writ and song -
as thoughts surely become sound,
and all the while, are so evenly pronounced...
plucked strings reverberate through the darkness,
minor and major scales collide...
awakening the dead to life,


....to the poem within the symphony.
................

Greg Sexton

"A Voice from across the River"

I wonder if it is like this for you...
Watching the shoreline....
laughing at the dance of the the crow.....
the beauty of the trees ...
Hearing the intricate rhythms of the crickets,
...the cicadas ....
...and how they must give us a hint of joy...
Even amidst the most somber of days.

I wonder if you could love the depth of this writer, and laugh at the antics of the thieving alley cat....

From the reflection in your eyes,
I see you've always been strong,
your soul guides you ,
even when your highs...
were so very low.

The salty mist from these shores have soaked my skin..
watching the moon,
and listening for your voice .....

Touching your hand I've yet to touch... a gift of grace from the gusts of coastal winds.

It is here that I sense your presence,
I hear your whispers..
Your laughter...
your footsteps.

In the evening moonlight ...i sense your candor, It is your Light...only borrowed by the Moon.

It's the "real" that we love.
The insatiable desire to know it...
to taste it ...
to be it...

Loves finds us all ...
at Her own pace...
Not ours.

Just as a soul must find its own voice,
It's own reflection,
revealed in word,
In deed,
In glance...
With each and every thought.

It's the "real" that we love.
The insatiable desire to know it...
to drink of it...
to be it.

Perhaps one could tally it as an obsession, But I know Love only as a living prayer.

.......a living moment suspended in time...
every bit as real as it ever was...
Both ancient and new.

This is the voice I hear.... from across the river.

This is the Voice I Hear.

GM Sexton --------------------