Last Commented Prose Poems (415)

Everything happens for it’s own reason
All things have closure, a change of season
Love has a way of working it’s way into a paradigm
Of loveless scarcity in it’s own good time.

Yesterdays of romance fade away.
To unconditional love gone astray.
You realize what matters most is there
All others fade away without a care.

Conflict and duress become a blessing in disguise
Bridges are repaired regardless of who or why’s.
Manifestation of dreams that you forget about
Come together, the universe unfolds without doubt.

Letting go the past to allow the future to take hold
As the years pass by in the raining, torrid tears of old
Perhaps we really do get the chance
With life, birth and death to really dance.

The dance of prosperity, abundance and peace
As all is forgiven in heart and mind with ease.
Many thanks I give for all my miracles and blessings
As they have been plentiful, as my spirit sings

Harmony from dissonance, order from chaos
Complete bliss from deep despair without any loss
All things come full circle as I always knew they would
Obvious possibilities that synergize as they should.

I looked at the sun.
It was the same white.
And suddenly I imagined the whole Universe with the white sun in the middle and a little orange Good that was jumping from one planet to another.
And the whole Universe was its home.

It has been many years since the Good left me, but I'm still waiting for it.
Maybe it will come back...
Not forever...
I know it can't live in our world...
But just for a while, to see each other.
And I look at the white sun, and I hear its whispering: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And I ask for how long should I wait, but it just repeats: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And something ugly hides from me the white sun...
It's hanging and laughing in the clouds.
And I'm pretty sure that the Good will come back.
It won't forget me.
But what if it can't find my house or my city?
When I think of it I feel so cold and scared.
It might be that a little orange Good is walking now somewhere on this planet.
So, if you meet it, please say that I'm missing my little friend.
Perhaps, it doesn't know what it is “to miss”, but it doesn't matter.
It will ask you: “What is missing?”, and maybe the white sun will smile and become yellow again.

Kiev,
2003

I came on earth a seed of life
To become amongst other mortal people of life ,animals insects in this world of life
I was born with fingers and toes

Ten little pinkies and ten litle toes
Daily i grew stronger day by day through my journy of life
Till i grew from an infant on my journey of life
Into my teens i am homeward bound,Information i have stored on my journey of life

locked up stored away for my journey of life
Am propelled into my adulthood like a man but still not know who i am and the meaning of life
My journey was slow now it is fast the years was slow now it is fast

Into my future i am propelled on my daily quest for life
I am one of millions on this earth propelled into are journey of life Some young some old and some inbetween
we are united in are journey of life, as comrades as individuals in Are journey of life
On are mission to make the most of are life are journeys short we make Mistakes we try to learn from are mistakes on are journey of life

What are journey is we /I are not sure but to make a good life for one and all

Its a dull and overcast day
I walk along the sandy beach
gazing into the distance and out to sea
There i see pictures all lined up neatly over the sea

over the sea
In lines hovering over the sea
Is it my life i see before me
my ies light up as i remember the the good times and the bad

lots and lots of pictures i see my life in front of me and my past fades away but not forgoton people i see in my pictureS long since gone but not forgoton
My childhood, my middle age there in pictures in front of me

What awaits my future what lies a head of me my rows of pictures my life in front of me

As i walk along the sand all i hear
is the sound of the waves crashing beside me
no foot prints in the sand undisturb grains lying around
The peace and solitude, birds in the trees also flying around

I look into the distance not a sole around
the gentle breeze of the air passing bye me the hot air surrounds me
the glare of the sun high in the sky
i look i stare i glare at the sun

my eye hurt for looking at the sun alone am i
i wipe a tier from my eye am lost am the only one
my ship broken apart lying in the sun
how alone am i

shelter i have to find and to avoid the glare of the sun
there glare the heat it bares dowm on me water i have also to find
make a fire too
what with no matches i have not

two sticks rub together i have tried not
alone on this island marooned am i my disbure my solitued
i sit and wait gathering what i find food shelter i will find
scanning the horizon to see what i can find a passing ship i must find

it's funny how at times there's a feeling you simply wanna share, not so sure how an do I dare an will they care, it's about a willing to take a chance, it's neither right or wrong to the reader, it's only right for self cause it's owned, it's a feeling, thought to pen to paper, be what it may, you've something to say, it's a distant word, for a times, been at bay. So complicated a word a feeling as such, to share is a trust, it's Love that's ready for me. Am I or will I be ready for it.

I had gotten an odd present for my birthday.
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?


To be continued...

I stopped and thought, and honestly I didn't know what to say.
The one silly conclusion hanging in my mind was if there is so much of death, then it must be good!
But then what is good? What is the Good?
I looked at it.
Something small, shining and orange, without any stable shape.
Something as innocent as probably I was a long time ago...
Or was I still?
Otherwise it couldn't get to me at all...
I took the Good and put it on the table.
It was looking at me with its pure blue eyes and waiting.
I don't know what happened to my voice because I whispered:
- You are right friend, but I don't really understand it.
- Why don't you understand?
- Why? - I turned around, - nobody understands.
- Hm, - the Good stopped talking.

It kept silent till noon.
And it got confused when I invited it for lunch.
It started to ask me the questions again.
A funny and curious little one which was itself a proof that anything good cannot be bigger than this my odd orange friend.
So, I realized that it didn't need food.
- Why do you eat? - the Good queried, - for what?
- Well, everybody has to eat to be alive.
- What is alive?
- Mmm, alive is not dead... - I wished I didn't say it.
- The death... again death... death, - the Good was repeating this word being climbing on the cabinet.

- Hey little one! Come down! - I called it when I finished lunch but it was silent, - ok, as you wish!
It stayed there till the end of the day.
I called it a few more times and then left it alone.

The Good woke me in the morning:
- You know, the stars sometimes also didn't understand me, but they used to say why. When the sun threw me to the space, the stars were so glad that they finally had somebody to talk to... you know, they are very talkative! You can't imagine how easily they get bored if they have to keep quiet for a few minutes. Ah, so they were so happy to have me. But since that moment I was thrown to the space, the sun became white. And it will be white forever. It was already too tired.
I suddenly figured out that the bright orange colour of my friend had become paler.
- What's wrong with you? - I asked, but it didn't answer.

It was getting lighter and lighter day after day.
I didn't hear its clear and infectious laughter anymore.
The Good was getting more and more quiet and passive.
Then I realized that it was sick.
I didn't know how to treat it, I have never treated the Good.

I left it on the shelf and went to the pharmacy for some advice in this strange situation.
When I came back, I didn't find the light-orange blemish among the books.
The window was opened and there was a mark on the windowsill.
I realized that the Good had flown away.
Perhaps, the stars were calling for it.


To be continued...

Firefly flying in the night sky
Fly thee magnificence on high
Tickled amongst the heavens above
Patter thy wings on my love
Soon the sun shall set the skies aglow
And you may wonder what light it will throw
Through dense trees it shall be piercing and fine
Dancing on underbrush and needles of pine
You shall mosey on through vast fields of iridescence
And come to a contemplation of a certain presence
Soon the sun shall come through clear and bright
Shining on its presence of light

Every now and then there comes along a man
Who is chocolate brown, tall, and walks seemingly oblivious of us all...DA’ MAN!

This homosapien stands out from the rest because he is
Impeccably dressed--fragrant with the best, and
be jeweled with the highest quality bling--the offspring
Sired of the Motherland King…DA’ MAN!

Along with all this grandeur, this man with his sizzling gander
Can make the ladies swoon, enthralled with his bass voice tune
Of conjugal entreat, they pitifully fall beneath his feet…DA’ MAN!

Though stoic in all he undertakes, the first sign of love
He executes his escape dodging any impervious commitment
In the morning light revolting from the intimate events
Of the previous night…DA’ MAN.

This man was created to sacrifice and fight, as he takes to him
The woman whom God has chosen for his wife
For reproducing, protecting and providing an eternal life
Directed by his Sovereign Lord and King, for he is a commandment being…DA’ MAN.

Thus, this ode has been penned, in total or in part, to calm the
Raging woes of a man hurt in the matters of his heart
Reminding the man that he was in the Master’s Mind when He
Created all mankind, and he is never alone,for he is the Father’s
Greatest own…DA’ MAN.

M. Elizabeth Smith

Play: "How Great Is Our God" -