Angel of the air and lunar light with blazing florescent wings

"Song of sweet release"

 Or Soaring

Ahh, the wind beneath the wings

Brings revel with its wake

Below, the landscape sweeps and sings

A symphony to make

Deep below, in flashing forms

Beneath effects of winds and storms

A placid place of peace

A song of sweet release

Of all the burdens left in store

Relieving weight so as to soar

On wings of sweet release

In tandem, fusion feast

Soaring on the wings of yore

Anticipating so much more

Swinging in the arc's array

On sweeping wings in bold display

Of life forevermore

It's amazing to me.  I just cannot write rhoetry unless I am feeling it.  Maybe I trained myself well.  Maybe that is the best definition of sentience.  Uninterrupted feeling/sensing.

This really brings it to a head.  The words are there and I understand even though I was not cognizant of their implications when I wrote them a moment ago.  Kinda weird.

"The little drum"

 The little drum

The distant drum that takes it all

The reason for the endless fall

Syncopated in the beat

The little drum is not complete

Unrhythmic in its infancy

Applying rules with stringency

As quibbles weaken wit

Devolves to sneak and snit

In that case, the drumming race

Becomes a thing of stone, not lace

Cracks appearing everywhere

The stunted pause to stop and stare

Confusion reigns in all

Leaving painful pall

I've striven so to show

The rhythm in the row

To take apart that which devolves

To rip to shreds with grim resolves

Always knowing that

'Tis not for me I bat

Nor you, as time goes on

No rhythm in this dawn

That does not make this life unworthy

Old age sucks.  I am finding acceptance an on and off again affair.  Ah, well, still waiting for our Humanity to show up.  I might try to write something uplifting next and I hope you reread this, once you've read the rhoem.

The sparrow and the lion

The sparrow and the lion

Whickwithy

The sparrow and the lion*

The vastness of the vistas pass before my open eyes

The sweeping wings of sparrow swoon, upon the wind she cries

The lion lumbers through the land, a razing in his roar

For though the time keeps passing there's abundance left in store

The sweeping and the weaving of the wind across the plains

Tumbles through the lion due to time and wind and rains

So much more than ruffling through the lion's lustrous mane

Time has many aspects, but the ticking will remain

For while the pulsing of the clock goes on the same for all

The differences are looming with the impacts large and small

The sparrow and the lion roam the distances perceived

Across the span of distances both still are much deceived

The wing that brushes as it rushes through the falling wind

The paw that pounds upon the grounds, the roar will not rescind

The differences between the lion and the Sparrow's spree

On and on the wind and ground, through distance and debris

The sparrow lives a life that's full and lion follows suit

The Lion's paw upon the ground continues taking root

The Sparrow wings on through the wind as through her life she flies

Across and through disturbances that ripple through the skies

Separations stark and steep as distances in time

The Sparrow's song, the Lion's roar, the pulsing paradigm

w

Painted sky*

In weariness, the lion drags his paws

The conundrum held tight between his jaws

The trek across savannah carries on

The paradigms returning each new dawn

He struggles to renew the will and move

In silence of the plains, the life to prove

Fiercely, paws continue on the course

Shedding wisps of mane in deep remorse

Reflection of the brightly painted sky

Clearly seen within the lion's eye

Hurricane*

The sparrow sits in beauty on a perch

In the eyes, the wellspring of the search

The path of flight to find the way on through

Complex drift of life the winds bestrew

Between the branch and leaf, the heart to broach

The unseen wind still batters the approach

The lion in a lair upon the ground

Looks out upon the world, the heart unwound

Panorama

Sparrow sees the lion on the plains

So sweeps on cautious wing that wind sustains

Lion follows doom of heart to roam

Displayed in loving shades of monochrome

For each, the panoramas that they view

Adjust the route that wings and paws construe

To goal, the wings fly windward as they soar

The pads of paws still roaming hearts' dolour

The sun and the savannah*

Sparrow whisks towards luster of the sun

Savannah trek for lion just begun

Sparrow seeks for sun, the wings to reach

Lion, for the pride, the riddles, breach

Roaring of the lion's heart remains

The prominent explosion on the plains

Lion so begins savannah's run

Sparrow soars on towards the blazing sun

 

Poems

Original date Feb 2025

I might have already posted some of these.  Sorry about that. 

Endings and beginnings

The time is passed

And, yet, it's just begun

The die was cast

This time beneath the sun

The winsome ways held steady for the while

Great heart remains, along with winsome smile

The pain, in many forms, came hard and fast

Focusing attention, unsurpassed

The shame, regret, despair are in the past

The revelation, permanent and vast

The days will come for future revelry

The past of pain all gone into the sea

Foundations

As my daily life riffs through the deck

Of all the feelings, circumstance, and wreck

A dizziness begins to take its hold

Acceptance all too often; seldom bold

The time for boldest actions in the past

I riff on through the cards until they cast

Foundations for the one in whom I bask

Stable as a rock is all I ask

Revealing deep within the loving truth

Relieving rage and loss and lion's sooth

Arms that hold Her tight when is required

A solid, rocky mountain that is fired

To bring a note, substantial in it tone

That rings across the heavens, not alone

Not one of these says what I want to say.  I am reaching the impossible.  Kinda scary.

I think these few begin to hint at what I am trying to say.  I hate to put it in prose but, since it only takes one line, it's neither prose nor rhoetry.

It would have meant nothing without you.

I wrote so many poems that aren't even worth posting.  None seem worthy of your birthday.

Nirvana

They say of Nirvana the way to resist

Is to never live in repletion

No fear of Nirvana can ever exist

'Til I share in this life to completion

Replete in the fusion

Two lives lived as one

Love, no confusion

Full sharing is done

In fullness of sharing

Transformed into one

The loving and caring

Shall not be undone

No sharing compares to the sharing of those

That share from beginning to end

Two hearts in redemption of loving compose

Creation, we now repetend

One is not a whole

Angels

June has always hit between the eyes

Like angels softly seeking for the sighs

But, always query lingers

Viewed between the fingers

The Bomb that won't explode

The whirlwind that i rode

No god required

Dancers hired

Ephemeral as thunder in the skies

Swimming in an ocean of those sighs

On this and only this, the heart relies

I learn new suppositions as I sigh

Swimming in the heart of love and sky

But, only wisp of revel do I sense

No confirmation comes to its defense

Amidst the words encompassing each song

Center stage, the words that don't belong

Assuring that it cannot be for me

The mist creeps up, I blunder to the  sea

In those words as spun

It could be anyone

Of all the conundrums unkind

The worst of all is that I find

Worn by life beyond one's measure

Loss of life and all of pleasure

In midst of midnight's cereal cry

Containing tears of all and why 

Once again, just heavy sigh

Gypsy Queen, the image struck at me

No reference points for all that I could see

Of what it is stirred image and the heart

Once again, it seems I fall apart

And that is fine

Makes sense within my mind

Your grace was always bold

To come in from the cold

Conclusion to the conundrums I see

The words i wrote to set the demons free

Just made a view of all of what's to be

An ending and beginning at the lee

And, finally, to seek the revelry

All the demons that i sought

All the pain this life has wrought

Were yours as well as mine

Pain leading to divine

In retrospect, I answer, now, my dear

The way in which I rolled the dice with tear

Somewhere deep inside

The sense of hardest ride

I ever had in pleasure of your grace

To lose the love, the measure was the race

"Get a life" I now can understand

I carry sense of life within my hand

I wish it were so different by more than just degree

My love for you, I carry on, transcendently

I send along a last request

To string the song at your behest

Take heart, my dear, and coalesce

Birthright

A world in which women are treated as equal

A future not tied to the animal sequel

Rare the inception

Of Cosmic conception

A love beyond lust and attraction

As love explores fusion's reaction

To transpose the day and the night

Startled passion, so sure in its sight

The day of the soul

As night becomes whole

Is this how it always has been

Adjacent but distant, the scene

Has this always been the one choice

Close enough to always hear your voice.

But, never feel the touch (the ache remains excruciating)

So close we came this time

One more life I wait

The words I wrote in rhyme

The hearts that dominate

Bittersweet much?

I could not breathe the heart into this stay

I could not bring the light into this day

I painted all the scenes upon the wall

But, ending with the seasons as they fall

The magic of this life has been detected

The tragic end has now been resurrected

With revel of a life as passion's lover

The wizardry will, finally, have its play

You and I in loving swing and sway

The time, in beat of revelry, we cover

You and I go deeper than I ever could have guessed

Transcending all of life that's never been at rest

We are meant to meet 

With life from head to feet

The love that's meant to be the final treat

The timing must be perfect in its right

Or you'll put up extraordinary fight

To catch the gist of you at all

The time will come, the fates befall

Witness to the dream I've always held

You and I begin the loving meld

The fusion of the love that rocks the skies

Will spiral into depths of loving sighs

Often, Florence, I haver pondered long

To say your name in life, as well as song

To sing it out in fine degree

Eight syllables for all to see

To say your name in love, as well as song

so many D.E.'s in this, i can't even begin.  i truly believe that you have come as close to expression of the infinite as is possible without fusion.

The Lovers and the Sea

The ocean swirls about them as they linger near the shore

All doors are open to them, as the learn to love some more

The waves cascade momentums of amazement and delight

The love, stupendous feeling, that transcends the magic might

 Arc

I span across the the arc of time 

Each heartbeat rhythm to a rhyme

A riddle ringing through it all the while

The answer hidden in the depths of smile

The pulse of life beats wings upon the skies

We both achieve the arc, the wings let fly

As we gaze into other's eyes

Climactic in the revelry and sigh

I know it's not as many as usual but, still, i will leave in awe.  it's all there but the actual completion.

I wanted to write a very good birthday poem for you this year.  This may have to do. 

I mentioned lately the idea of manic/depressive rapid cycles.  My manic/depressive may be better described as anxious to see the massive expressionism that will accompany our Humanity or anticipating the expressiveness of our Humanity with bated breath.  Errr, maybe that has something to do with the rhoem below.

It matters

It matters what you want is all I have to say

That begat the problem that has held me in its sway

For the sake of new under the sun

Amidst the frolic, revel, and the fun

It matters if foundations, I provided

Or, train wrecks and my presence coincided

It matters that foundations of the heart become a whole

It matters, the transcendence of the lifetimes that were stole

The mighty majesty as clouds go tripping by

Behemoths of a size to fill the sky

It matters that we see it eye to eye

Instead of life remaining dotage waste

Hurried on along in mindless haste

Living of a lifetime's love held dear

It matters that we rid the eye of tear

The ache to share the love a lifetime long

Transforming aches to lyrics of a song

I'd rather sing the revel to the dawn

In which, decisively, the beast is gone

In matters of the heart, it all is minus

Until we share a life of loving's finest

Throughout a lifetime is the way to share

With many; and no fault in loving care

In most intimate relationship of all

The sharing  of the love is final call

It needs to be we look into each other's eye

With a love that shakes the ground and sky

What matters is the sky begins to scream

In resolution that it's not only a dream

For all the ache, for all the pain and stress

Transcendence to the love, I must confess

Is all the answer that I'll ever need

To move on to the revel in the deed

If this rhoem is a repeat, I'm fine with that.

xxx

I've always felt self-conscious about inventing the word rhoem as a specific type of poetry that contains rhyme and, at least, some attempt of rhythm (for me, the rhythm may be the most difficult part), but it is different from all other forms of 'poetry'.  I've been told by some that any form of writing is poetry.  If that is the 'definition' that people desire, then I have to have a word that sets apart the struggle to achieve rhythm and rhyme.  Rhoetry, to me, distinguishes itself in some way.  I won't say I care for all forms of rhoetry.  Anything can  be bastardized by the prehuman.  Rap music, in most cases, reminds me of twitter.  There are exceptions even in that form that conveys a thoughtful soul that hasn't been completely brutalized.  Anyways.  Rhoetry was just too helpful in my search for answers to not distinguish it.  It allows me to look left while gazing right.  Just putting pretty words in text cannot achieve the state of mind necessary to look really, really deep.  Somebody had to delve deeply to get us out of the mess we are in.  I guess that's me, though it seems I was a poor choice.  Maybe that desire to think deeply, as a matter of course, disappears with the coming of our Humanity but I think not.  It just won't have to be so intense.  It could be really fun, actually.  It is part of embracing life.

I guess I think of rhoetry as I do being multilingual (which I'm not).  The effort can assist in both sharpening and opening the mind.

And this is the poem and time that stirred me to take seriously the idea of sending you this book, once again.  I don't know the answer to that.  I still can't seem to intrude.  I also don't know if this will need rewrites.  Probably.  Maybe additions.  That's unlikely, though.

There used to be a book named Horn Crown, it often comes to mind when I think of you.

Clearly, none of the poems are worthy of you.  Another good reason to avoid your birthday.  I hope I can cook something up.  If not, consider these my beggarly offering.

....

I'm at a new point in the journey that is hard to explain.  The vista leaves me without words.  I hope to add something here.  While I'm disgusted with the state of humanity, I'm becoming settled with the situation for now, though, considering all of the mad, mad world, that could turn on a moment's notice. Literally.  All it will take is to find an elegant way out, which I think, once again, I have done.

Avalanche, in at least two posts, is the right domain for this exploration.  Of course, I may continue to chip away at how to make it all sink in but, mostly, I'm done.  

Now, I finally get to explore the much more complex puzzle that has attracted me like a magnet for nine years and its collateral effects.  I don't know that I will make much progress except maybe around the periphery.  It would be something to keep me occupied and such a delight and relief compared to the awful effort of the last decade and a half.

It startles me at times that I spent the last fifteen years trying to explain the simple fact that men have been selling themselves short since the beginning of sentience.