Post by ZenPsychosis on Aug 27, 2016 2:51:02 GMT -6
Been agonizing about whether to post some of my non-funk related work since I saw the Show and Tell board was created. Finally came to the conclusion that nothing does any good sitting moldering on a hard drive, especially as I'm trying to get back into writing somewhat regularly again. As such, here's a few old pieces from the lighter side of my work. I may expand this later, or may just banish this stuff back to the dusty old drive later after a flurry of anxiety. Some of these I've shared with only a few people, but most of them have never really see the light of day before. Any thoughts, criticisms, or even flinging or rotten vegetables are welcome if anyone feels compelled to Apologies in advance for the long wall of text.
Rain
Rain falling gently
over a turbulent sea
that calms at its touch
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
24 Hour Phoenix
Rising up from the ashes,
I open my eyes unto a new day:
a new life,
a new universe.
Where does the time slip away to?
if it even matters;
if I even care this time.
The sunset is already quickly approaching,
bringing the brilliant orange and gold flames;
the pain and the Ash,
the Emptiness
that sublime transubstantiation:
spirit coalescing into form,
form amassing into flesh,
Flesh imbued with a consciousness reconstituted:
ten billion drops of awareness pulled from the æther
and compressed into a single explosive epiphany:
Life is in the Living.
Ascend, phoenix, Rise;
name the stars your own,
and Fly.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Coffee
On a chill and early winter’s morning, you fill me with delight.
Every sense acute with anticipation, though I am yet half-dreaming,
I begin to work through the delicate preparatory ministrations with the care and weight of ritual.
Fire burning; heat rising through the vessel, bubbling:
commingling essences into the potent, exhilarating brew that effuses the air,
arousing my anticipation and thirst to an aching need for your silky brown elixir.
I bring you to my lips and drink deeply of you:
Hot, intense and earthy with just a hint of sweetness; bold, with a delicious bite all your own.
I can feel the jolt course through me as my pulse quickens;
Half-dreaming giving way to alert, vivid reality.
I exhale and let the morning’s first sparks of real thought dance through my mind’s eye.
Washed in the deep euphoria of awaking to life once again,
I slow to savor every remaining drop and hold the moment,
Until we greet some other still and chilly winter’s morning.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Ascending Whisper
The minstrel boy to the grave has gone,
his sad harp playing bold.
and though his harp in pieces lay,
Its notes did not go cold.
For soldiers weep and young men die:
that is the way of war,
but the song of hope in a just man's voice
Creation won't ignore.
A simple tune of hope and peace
Can drown out the din of pain,
Give a voice to all the silenced
And the righteous will sustain.
The minstrel boy to his grave has gone
But his song is in my head
For my own crypt I was once in
And it rose me from the dead
Rain
Rain falling gently
over a turbulent sea
that calms at its touch
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
24 Hour Phoenix
Rising up from the ashes,
I open my eyes unto a new day:
a new life,
a new universe.
Where does the time slip away to?
if it even matters;
if I even care this time.
The sunset is already quickly approaching,
bringing the brilliant orange and gold flames;
the pain and the Ash,
the Emptiness
that sublime transubstantiation:
spirit coalescing into form,
form amassing into flesh,
Flesh imbued with a consciousness reconstituted:
ten billion drops of awareness pulled from the æther
and compressed into a single explosive epiphany:
Life is in the Living.
Ascend, phoenix, Rise;
name the stars your own,
and Fly.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Coffee
On a chill and early winter’s morning, you fill me with delight.
Every sense acute with anticipation, though I am yet half-dreaming,
I begin to work through the delicate preparatory ministrations with the care and weight of ritual.
Fire burning; heat rising through the vessel, bubbling:
commingling essences into the potent, exhilarating brew that effuses the air,
arousing my anticipation and thirst to an aching need for your silky brown elixir.
I bring you to my lips and drink deeply of you:
Hot, intense and earthy with just a hint of sweetness; bold, with a delicious bite all your own.
I can feel the jolt course through me as my pulse quickens;
Half-dreaming giving way to alert, vivid reality.
I exhale and let the morning’s first sparks of real thought dance through my mind’s eye.
Washed in the deep euphoria of awaking to life once again,
I slow to savor every remaining drop and hold the moment,
Until we greet some other still and chilly winter’s morning.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Ascending Whisper
The minstrel boy to the grave has gone,
his sad harp playing bold.
and though his harp in pieces lay,
Its notes did not go cold.
For soldiers weep and young men die:
that is the way of war,
but the song of hope in a just man's voice
Creation won't ignore.
A simple tune of hope and peace
Can drown out the din of pain,
Give a voice to all the silenced
And the righteous will sustain.
The minstrel boy to his grave has gone
But his song is in my head
For my own crypt I was once in
And it rose me from the dead