Dynamically

Micro cues are very telling

However, there’s no telling

What they mean from person to person

Everything is just general in nature

Whereas nuances are conjecture

And people must invest real time

Before they can benefit from guesses

It’s still called getting to know someone

Learning the tones of their voices

Any reactionary mood changes

Quirky glances across a room

Longing stare into each other’s eyes

Juxtaposing hurt and joyful tears

When to care and when… to be quite

.   

Poet of the Light © 2022

fruition (long read)

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I too, go now soon

Where is as I must

Before the snows fall

And greys become dust   

After all, tis my very nature

Heavenly hands instilled

And life nurtured by moonlights

As an inner child’s dream in truth

I’ll ascend near where Eagles soar   

There, up in a corner summit borrow

And campfires are lost to darkness

Where snippets of life are painted

In colors of wild mountain flowers

And lush meadow green lands

And sprinkles of sparkling stars    

Higher than is here now

Where breezes tumbleweeds for miles   

Across dried-out level landscapes  

Where Bison herds and bears roamed

Amongst glacier lakes and tall grasses

Back in a time long before I was born

When stars were filled with prayers   

And I too must complete a cycle

And I’ll do so with my Lord savior

Listening to my humbled heart speak

The way a Father does to his child  

As I bear witness of those who loved me  

And those who wiped my salty tears

Fed my broken heart promising stories

Triaged my rented skin and soul

Steeped me in warms cups of forgiveness

Reminded me of my mountainous mission   

In betwixt quiet hours of inner peace

And glorious dawns of dewy mornings

Where Mother nature kisses all living  

I’ll colorfully imbue as memories

Imprinted gingerly on my soul’s fabric

Carrying with to unabashedly boast

Where I’m from and to where I go  

As I walk in the complicit echoes

By legions of revered Poets of old

Whispering our creative thoughts

Into sleepy young hearts, we left behind

That try to comprehend why

Their tender nature compels them  

To sit thoughtlessly… admiring summits   

Poet of the Light © 2022

Nakedness

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I hung my head expecting to be shamed

After I chose to be brave exposing myself

In fashion unfamiliar to my outside world

Most of whom knew me not at all really

Nonetheless, I reveled in mere plain words

What I couldn’t dare utter out of my voice

I must admit, it seemed to be so much safer

Whereas I might explain it: a misunderstanding

Had been submitted by complete human error

A page of pure fiction instead of anecdotalized   

Or so my inner thought reasoned out cowardly      

Plus, it felt easier to be jousted over silly fiction

Then admit my truer inner emotions publicly

If they discerned what I wrote was… gibberish

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

An ode to Virginia’s love letter.  

Unknowns

It comes across like a quandary

The day will come when I’ll die

Life will go on without my echoes

Briefly, I’ll be there, in-between

.

Of where I’m going and leaving

Idling watching life’s continuum

All my happiness ever changed

As my pain and worry, dissipates

.

People left behind still struggling

I can almost hear broken whispers

Pleading thoughts of their minds

Yet I believe that I’ll- sense them

.

Letting anyone go won’t be easy

All good intentions… precluded

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Stereo-typified

The world is a fickle place

Laced in uninformed biases

Legacy of a dark cruel realm

Where truth becomes perverted  

As absurd seeming connections

Be it race, age, or chosen beliefs  

Fit like custom gloves on fingers

Yet most of the world at large  

Angerly intends to divide them

Touting some ignorant truths

Neither of the two subscribes to

They’re immorally ostracized

Not for being that much different

But for being too well…fitted

.

Poet of the Light © 2022  

Intersections

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Right from the beginning of life 

There are those that are nurtured  

By both parents and life, itself  

And those that come into themselves 

Percolating over the course of time  

Children are both whiles being children 

But at any point, they can transform  

Autonomously taking charge of their thriving  

Sprout off in any number of directions 

Some kids are hampered by darkness  

While others, from childhood- flourish  

Darkness freeing them from all conscious

Light and or darkness become a romance 

But only one entity desires… affirmation   

.

Poet of the Light © 2022  

It happens

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Sometimes you fall off

Some proverbial rock

After your mind wakes up

To a world much too different

But I’ll continue to love you

In ways, you never knew

In ways, you never heard

I’ll remember what matters

At least here, in my heart

I’ll admit, I couldn’t be changed

For better or worse, no matter what   

Certainly not in the ways you hoped

Just met me feel your heartbeats

Hold me breathless and close

Let’s not say another word

Not before… we let each other go

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Tone deaf

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I spoke to you

With words from my heart

The way I learned

Love speaks to love

But you just smiled

Then you said goodbye

And I hurt- a long while

Slowly the flame inside- died

Ma days were darker

And time just dragged on

The season muddled into- one

Nothing felt warm or cold

I was still numb, feeling old

Then a voice spoke

Like musical notes

And I turned to see her face

She looked sincere right at me

But her smile changed everything

And since then, every conversation

That she and I’ve shared

Was love speaking to love

In a language only hearts… hear

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Stab in the dark

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There seem to be a million things  

I’d like to write about, colorfully convey

But it becomes a bit like a briar bush

Around some swampy water hole

It’s alluring at first until you’re drawn to it

Retreat seems obvious but pride takes over

And the deeper and darker it all looks

As each new line is like a brave new step

The problem is, you’re not sure as to where

Then suddenly, you’re all tangled up

Sense of direction gets all muddled

Feeling a bit unsettled and secretly lost

You know where you want to go

Things you’d like to honestly say

Doubt holds you back like hundreds of thorns  

That just thicker and more uncertain

As to how to move forward cleanly

Sometimes the safest way is foolishness    

But the truth is, writing requires bleeding

Act like a martyr and blaze forth

Trusting it will all make sense in the end

If not to others, it will to yourself

That’s all that… should matter

.

Poet of the Light © 2022

Shapes of truths

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They come in so many shapes and colors

Like leaves of trees in multi seasons

It starts when we’re at our youngest

Indoctrinations by parents and or siblings

All the deference we learn by error

Usually at our own perils or punishments

Reinforced by him who rules the truth box

The royal compass of respect and intelligence

However ignorant and delusional

Also dictates truths shape and tone values

No matter how convoluted it appears

The greater its complexities are to know

The harder the truth is to break or dull

And once you adopt these truths

You also assume their ongoing evolutions

If by some miracle you can keep up

Cause we only know it has transformed

After, we have been unabashedly corrected

Or slapped alongside our heads for ignorance

Left bewildered by unexpected changes  

But like these stranger truths, we evolve

Adapting to changes by observations

Listening attentively when they interchanged

And when and why they never do

Until we move onwardly, to elsewhere

And like all good learners, we simply blend

Into the fabric where we now live- evolving  

Like tiny seeds, the storms carried off

Until they’re too heavy for light winds to bare

Left behind somewhere- discarded

As if no longer valued or needed  

To take root into soils of newer truths

Where we again, adapt, silently graph onto

We grow and mingle amongst harsh stones

And toxic overgrown weeds of many colors

Where the sun and shades trade places  

Until we rule as royalty of our truth box

Different shape, colors, and false as ever

But when it’s your box, who cares?   

And the truth we know right then

Resembling nothing whatsoever

Like we first learned…as kids

Poet of the Light © 2022