Proof

I wrote a poem crazy regarded.
Seen as developed, seen as retarded.
Of being, I wrote, of to be as expected.
The terror I lived through could not be neglected.

What is funny about it, I really got mad.
From that time of my intellect was pretty sad.
Seeing it coming, I might say, today,
I felt for the option to be in that way.

Feel for Giving

If much to say
To reach day has,
Not gay you are.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

Lay Back

When you keen are
On seen to be,
Been there, done that.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

I Take A Step

I take a step and make it up
As if I made of tea a cup.
Perhaps I never was prepared.
For aftermath, though, it was cared.

The only thing worth wishing for
Is not to be a bloody bore.
I take a step and wish for it
To show I am not God damned fit.

I take a step, and maybe so
I find my way, a way to go.
The joy of life is to create.
And futile is to go for gate.

The joy of sorrow is the thing
That will to satisfaction bring.
I take a step and I am glad
I feel for it. I am not sad.

My Mother

My mother told me to always be creating.
With her, my mother, I never was debating.
I thought of it, at my mother’s expenditure,
And, God, I loved her, and worked on my signature.

There is so much to possess and to satisfy,
Thinking to be good the common will gratify.
My mother told me, yourself create anything.
That was the greatest of all she was bequeathing.

I wish my mother was still here, though moreover,
That she joined happily heaven by passover.
Gift she was giving, she did me characterize.
By what she said, she her offspring did authorize.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

To Be A Thing

If wonderland
Was just at hand,
To wondrous be
Would fail, you see.

An Autumn View

Now the autumn has come. I get chilled by the cold,
As the growth of the earth seems to be rather old.
Period is the work which in spring was begun.
Period is the thing of the summer, the fun.

By the seed growth will show again, and will be seen,
By the seed incarnation on what one is keen.
Though, the vine thinks of brandy and wine to become.
Temporarily being is futile to some.

As enjoying the cognac, the brandy, the wine
I will think of the being I wish will be mine.
I will be on Christ Jesus a thanksgiving branch,
And take good care of living; of life, and of chance.

The Prey I Am

A craw I see, though sitting on a fence,
With impulse not, for help or for offence.
It should have been an eagle in the wild,
The carcass freeing by the fleeing mild.

The craw should know, I even see it sit
Relaxed, alright, expectant not, nor fit.
The claw I feel for, and the raven’s hunt,
And to be dead, relieved by saviour’s stunt.

Grateful for That

As insane I did much. I remove every trace,
So the being as such I will no longer face.
Though a job, when it’s done I can smile to my pride,
And my way I am on, with no motive to hide.

And I smile to the blown, and I smile to my pain.
I was there on my own, showing up as insane.
Thank You, Lord, I gave not any worry to man.
Just a blush I have got. And delete it I can.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

For to See

I did ask for a sign, and what God gave to me
Was the printer beside me, for cautious to see,
And the paper which was, and is, and will become
As a matter of fact the expenditure from.

Now, the vision is older. It is old as man.
It was Adam who made it, and copy we can.
When we buy in the drugstore it also is clear
Since the three ways of being is found also there.

We might find it in flowers, by root, stem and crown,
And we should make it valid, make it our own.
There is comfort in doing. The printer work done
Might take time, though quite surely, it ends in the Son.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

I Am Damned

Really, I cannot do
Much to entertain you.
I have nothing to say
To enlighten your day.
I have nowhere to go
To be prosperous so.
So, I walk in despair
Just to get the fresh air,
And a smile on my face
I develop, by grace.
And if you wonder why,
It's my head in the sky.
Joy of sorrow it is
What I tingle by this,
Really, not at all bad
Then the damned feeling sad.