Be the Pole

There was nothing like the note it left,

Took my mind to another level.

Tossed out the last kind of cleft,

And found myself in complete upheaval.

There was nothing and no reason behind,

Transduced it down to be nought,

And yet, I forgive you against the sublime,

Reality of your failed court.

You sure knew the side of ever,

And seeing your sap dried up,

Took nothing to be the thought of as clever,

And the whispering clouds took the light of Ra’s cup.

Tears of gratitude will form on my lips,

As rolled down across my petal rose.

There is nothing but truth in all of this,

And your heart was the most open when you thought it was closed.

There was umpteen more years to you,

Than ever you believed possible,

Nevertheless, that ump years was the greatest few,

That ever I knew was possible.

Time has strange messages,

And all of them meant for us that hear.

Open your chest to the best of years,

And close your hell to ears.

Simply is the way of peace,

Was the instruction from many saints?

Well, then there is a chance for my soul to feast,

And my heart to dance to faint.

Shuffle your feet close to mine.

A second chance for a life time waltz,

And a third chance for hearts aligned,

Be gone, the devil gate that waited our time.

The Kiss by Francesco Hayez

What?

What am I looking for?

Flinting around like this on the internet.

It doesn’t really give me anything that is real,

Only imagines, thoughts, a giggle and information that is half correct.

What is it that I search for?

I feel it is just there,

Ready for me to grasp,

Yet not in my grip. It calls to me and me to be aware.

What can I possibly gain from it all?

Distraction and distortion of bias and opinion.

Take it, but then it calls,

Must check the mails something important might have come in.

What can there be?

In all of this distract and lack of purpose.

Are there millions of those like that?

Lost in the muddle of a zillion curses.

You lose your faith,

Built on someone else’s belief,

Because your mind is not strong enough to decide for itself,

You have long since let your knowledge of your true being leak.

What has there to be caught?

In this web of great confusion and purposelessness.

There is sound. There is smiles,

Yet there is nothing permanent and leaves the surfer beached and in distress.

Is there lonely when there is a huddle?

Taken down the rights of all but the few,

There is nothing to come from the coldness of the script,

Only the blood of the hanging through which the rats chew.

What does this mean for you and all others?

Shipped down and moved across the pages.

A moment in time without the guilt of continuance.

Never more listen to the great and many sages.

Where does it the land end and mind hold faith?

When torment and horror does roam.

You can sort from it all that which rises above,

Yet many overwhelm them with bundles and dull out the tones.

What land will ship the shore?

When they grow tired and realise loss of life.

Spent, them, perdidit mortale, to the side of time,

For this life was sat or ignored until, exhausted, you fall, your final strife.

Tis then life mystery mere ideally sat?

With, then, there is nothing for sadness,

As choice was done and you marry into the harem of Tristitia,

For it is then, at that end, you saw the many lost possibilities of gladness.

Honour they life, is this the message I hear?

For as my fingers tap, tap, tap,

I hear the voice change my mislead, dull wonderings,

And I arise to grasp that now with all my heart. And the universe applauds, clap, clap, clap.

Water-Lily Pond by Claude Monet
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