Thursday, September 6, 2007

Three Poems - The Rocks, Coffee, and The Harvest Dance (and Commentary)

The Rocks

(Rapturous poetry)

Friend, delight state me what is incorrect with me?

Or is it perhaps the world?

For I told myself, it could be either way!

I gave up drinking, smoke and gambling,

and I never swore, but then I started to.

So I prayed on that, and went after women

instead, and became compulsively attracted.

I went and got married to give up women

and just have got one, and I started up curse again.

I worked difficult at trying to calculate myself out,

pushing aside pride, greed, lust, enviousness and gout!

And every clip I take my inventory, I happen one

more than issue, that had been hidden under a rock!

"Listen up Friend, there's only been one

who have ever been able to kick over those rocks

and happen nil of value to speak about…!"

No: 1955 8-29-2007 In this verse form I seek to set what I name bizarre energy into its rebellious branches; a touch of spirituality; the egotism and the organic structure drama a function here, and how a adult male may seek to set up himself for death, trying to subdue his unprompted nature, be it sexual, or inordinate energy in other so called, tabu areas: acted out and un-acted out desires. The rocks, or rock, are 1s invitation to look under it, for there is where you will happen your problem, the state of affairs is always on top, and thus the job have to be under the rock. This is an old Hindoo style word form of poetry.

Death by the Numbers

(A short Commentary)

Death come ups and travels as speedy as the shifting of gearing in a auto for this world's population (s). If one brands it to 60-years old, it have been said, he or she is lucky. Not because of wellness grounds per se, but because we dwell in a unsafe world, for the most part. One can decease a thousand ways, just leaving the house for eight hours. Collect that to 60-years x 365-days, equals: 21,900 years to have got got been killed in, and thus, that same number, is how many modern times you have avoided death. The likelihood are not in 1s favor; if one believes 1000-times a twenty-four hours he could have got got been killed (by transportation system accidents, killers, tripping and falling, getting cancer, a poulet bone, etc), this equals: let's add three more than nothings to that, and it come ups out to be: 21,900,000 opportunities to have been killed in the past sixty-years. Most people never make look to catch sight of this. We go too carefree. But decease is not no scarecrow, it lingers all about, like achromatic on rice. Perhaps we have got a defender angel, it sure would look so in my manner of thinking.

Harvest Dance

(Carnaval Delaware Guiliudraca)

The small Wanka misses resile on their feet

like India rubber balls!

Dressed in greenish and red…

like cucumbers, and tomatoes.

The male children hop up and down;

almost all in achromatic (blue striped shirts)

they are going to tweak the roots from the ground

it's reap time.

Dedicated to Reina Giron Director of 'Rosa Delaware United States School' in Huancayo, Peru; verse form written while watching the children dance, and attending the activities; the writer danced the dance of the 'Santiago' at the Saint Genus Genus Rosa celebrations at the school (8-30-2007). And there was dances of Cusco with their colourful redness and achromatic hats.

Coffee, Coffee, Coffee

(Coqui –Bakery Coffee)

Dark — java edible beans and cream

the pure, engaging, straight-splitting

(with a snap)

sunburned latté, thick like the glass

stirred-lightly—like smooth stones,

down to the basement of my stomach

it's poured; a life river! …

riding flatbeds in the summer!

Inspired by Elizabeth, dedicated to Carmon and Koki; No. 1957, 8-30-2007, in Huancayo Peru. If I bask anything in life, it is a good cup of coffee, and it it can be a latte, all the better. The best Coffee in Huancayo, is at Coqui's.

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