poems.after.aylah

8/7/2019 Poems.after.aylah

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Poems after Aylah



Eyes of the Beloved

What is in the eyes of the Beloved,

hearts with strings attached

that cannot be broken,

or seared into with vision blind;

sweet justice found waiting in halls remembered.

A power greater than

one and one,

two together shining

in the sun;bright.



Who we are…

We always love the ones that hurt,

the ones who need healing most of all.

We always love the sweetest rose

and hold it long after the petals fall.

Ones who do not love may injure, but cannot hurt.Ones, who love and hurt, can also heal.

And be healed.



Star Child

vision stolen from the sun

bitter strife torn with unwritten pages

the original self bedridden

sightless, speechless, epileptic and comatoast

nature's own is dying faster than expected

suspected arsonists burning bridges, forests,

high-rises and depot stations to the stars

willing accomplishers to the under-taker's ball

rage gutted on primrose paths to enlightenment



When I think about FDR's famous quote, "So, first of all, let

me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear

is fear itself -- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror

which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat intoadvance."

The ultimate result of fear is to deny the future. And at its

worst prevent it. The fragility of the past lies in the

possibility that it can be altered and otherwise be

misrepresented, in essence rewriting it.

The fragility of the future is the possibility that it neverhappens.

This is why I don't trust the "Big Picture", I rather like our

little experiment and would not like to have it become

extinct.



Bright like the first star

As I imagine, it was virtually a multitude of ties.

I'd say it was an almost infinite number,

exceedingly viable and bright

and barely an exaggeration.

There is a wonder, if any of the first generation

survives to this day, or maybe they are so far away

to become irreparably invisible

and perhaps far, far too old.



ghôti «°)))><

wrote this

Trills on a mandolin shimmer in the cool Florida evening.

A black and white cat curls his tail around his feet and waits for dinner.

Venus swings low in the south east. Bright like the first star.

Something in my heart remains unsettled.

One letter left un-written.

One card left un-sent.

Far off memories of your faceNick the corner of my vision,

Another year ending on a minor chord.

people.tribe.net/tygerbill

A mysterious intense radio signal detected by NASA scientist could have

come from the universe's first generation of stars, as they collapsed intoblack holes, spewing out jets of charged particles that produced radio

emission.

Another possibility is that the radio signal could be created in distant

galaxies, whose super massive black holes whip charged particles up to high

speeds, generating radio emission.

More....tinyurl.com/6vb3xt

http://people.tribe.net/tygerbill


http://tinyurl.com/6vb3xt







Boundaries ?

boundaries may place one on the edge of abyssand that could be a falling away or fromeverything you know

and everything there is to knowany kind of confidence that puts you over an edge

that one does not come back fromis lost to everyone that does not follow.speculation on black holes

event horizon



maybe not information is lostbut the only information we may see

is that YOU are gone

now here we are in a landwithout real boundaries

no place is an absolute abyss

even though there may be warning signsdo not enterthus privacy is ours too

and off we gowhere signs are freely open

and experience becomesTHE cosmic dancewe can know



By argument, entreaty, or expostulation (toreason earnestly) plead urge

Beg of me my pen doorclosed to opine, and evermore.

your dense conclaves are Spartan

perverse enough for transduction,any fallacy is net approved to bask in gloryof absence in abeyance, have not the rebels

succumbed, except in the corners that you'vesought where else, but in the den of antiquity can

one dwellwho swells their ugliness to express everyone'sdisease.

Doctor, doctor, heal me please, once you've settled



on a cure, then I'll know that you're sincere.I'm placed upon my tip of tongue,

no words escape drowning in a sea of meaning,constructing elastically, stretching thin.

Not yours, not mine, our hearts entwined,believing silly eyes looking forward to a day,when a moment's pleasure will not impress,

nor undress.

if the tactic fails to succeedthen the failure is yours to believe,

another tack could relieve your mincing

words of silent reign to sublime.to pass directly from solid to a vapor stateand seemingly disappear, as if there is no morea reason to state a case that's been decided by

fate.

Would you have yourself believe that you do notget what you want?



Focus

a surface obscures any deepness of a wellseeks creation in hidden landscapes of a silent soul

screams covered by darkness of a quiet stormone step removed from feeling a constant fearone mile past an emotion never felt

it seems a trick to ignore every fatiguethus ignorance becomes bliss

a poet, perfect and pure,whose path is clear and destiny sureif it is all there anyway, all the time,

then focus becomes reality



honestly try to rely on my non-conscious thoughtssometimes, in hopes that it reveals some sense of

feeling of expression that I find difficult to statein a thoughtful logical way. Primarily, it's justanother voice to add to the mix, for all I know Icould be quite delusional and I must admit the

facilities are really tops. While I clearly haven't

helped, I hope I haven't hindered. I'm normallytoo polite, so I try not to be.And besides I was mostly kidding. And can only

assume the same, in other words, to quote thatmost famous of whack jobs,

John McEnroe, "I don't believe you! You can'tbe serious!"

As simply as I can, it may be a slightimprovement to accept neutrality a little more

and reject negativity a little less.

In the interest of fairness, I think everyoneassumes too much that isn't true.

poems.after.aylah

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