Naykd Poet | |
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Naykd Poet, 19 maja 2012
Ancient scripted symbols etched into material form
An encrypted message having weathered millennium’s storm
Tooled by another entity from a time long since worn
To speak of spacial beauty or of an impending forlorn?
What state of Being spawned this act of mind
To inscribe words to unknown others of another time
Be it for reason of what was known to remind
Or simple matter of being so inclined?
Truth be that this present too is to the future: ancient
That this written expression too, will make its timeless ascent
To befall unknown eyes to ask: what by it was meant?
With symbol of its language lost, no longer there to represent.
Naykd Poet, 11 maja 2012
Public apathy is so thick - you can cut it with a knife
It speaks to the growing dismay with modern life
Global economic hardship breeding insurmountable strife
With no signs of political maneuvering that will make it all right
Standard of living for many is on a downward projectile
For the larger middle-class it’s a definite change in life-style
For new college graduates hopes for employment seems futile
And for the impoverished and poor: they’ll just have to reconcile
So where will it all lead, which direction will the future go?
It would seem not even the greatest of minds seem to know
Maybe this is the price to be paid for years of material greed let to grow
Raising the question: Is it time for new seeds to life’s purpose; to sow?
Naykd Poet, 11 maja 2012
Challenged by this rare love that has come my way
It’s become source of anguish lived each day
For it lacks desire for mutual body‘s want to play
Fueling thoughts of anguish that feed a growing dismay
To this elusive sexual desire I’ve become enslaved
Purchased out of irrational reason: it’s what is craved
Knowing full well it’s a troubled road being paved
Built on hope, its potential price, will forever be delayed
Can this brooding love’s frustration be forever held at bay
Or left to daily question:Is it here to stay?
And for it: what need be paid?
And from it: how to be saved?
Naykd Poet, 10 maja 2012
Observing life passage as an undulating wave
Its direction ebb and flow a difficult one to say
Though the simple goal of mastering yet another day
Is ultimately the only true objective for which to seriously pray
No consciousness of Mind can predict an outcome result
A condition that need not raise blame of fault
For it is purely a function of free-will’s assault
And lack of pre-determined guide book, to consult
So render to the joyous tributary ride
For in the end, little remains from which to hide
And by its humble passage, rejoice with pride
Of having been given: breath to be alive.
Naykd Poet, 29 kwietnia 2012
Though a self-proclaimed gift given
To bring words of thought to the liven
An ambition at times deemed self-driven
It is ultimately a goal to wit I am striven
It may be a failure of this life to be forgiven
But with breath to still breathe, it’s never to be forbidden
Naykd Poet, 29 kwietnia 2012
Harvesting of thoughts that fill the mind
Flourishing into words of every kind
Assembled into meaning profound or sublime
That in time may find meaning to remind
But unfortunately they are likely to be ignored
The dust cover books where they’ve been stored
Lying in wait for their potential reward
Of stimulating a mind otherwise bored
It is the punishment often paid for the given gift of word
An author’s sacrifice for the living chance to be heard
Though posthumously it is more likely to be served
A matter that will in no time soon, be cured.
Naykd Poet, 29 kwietnia 2012
As spring flowers pop out from the ground
A process often thought less then profound
But in truth, it should truly confound
For it is a miracle of nature that does astound
From simple seeds planted in nutrient soil
They soon commence their growing toil
But without adequate water this start will foil
The birth of growth as small roots begin to uncoil
In a matter of days small sprouts will emerge
With the help of the Sun to encourage
Vibrant green leaves from a stem diverge
Capped by a bud from which pedals of color will splurge
Then, with all the hard work of growth finally done
A vibrant, colorful bouquet of flowers bask in the Sun
Filling the air with unique fragrances to the joy of everyone
A miracle of nature not to be taken for granted; by anyone.
Naykd Poet, 22 kwietnia 2012
Magic is the moment when I cling to you
Hoping that I do the same for you
Your love is what’s made me new
Without it; I know I’d be blue
Your smile; makes my days shine
Your laugh; has to be one of a kind
When I’m with you; there is no time
You’ve rendered me; love blind
No song can match your sweet voice
Together; we are the right choice
Kissing your lips; supple and moist
Your mine; to cherish; to rejoice.
Naykd Poet, 22 kwietnia 2012
A lost soul wandering through the darkness of life, struggling to understand wrong from right, trusting in the end there exists salvation’s light, making it all worth the fight.
Born to a world that seems callous and forlorn, left to battle alone the storm, impeded by shackles imposed to be worn, no tribute of gift without the scorn.
The mind bleeding for answer to uphold, finding falsehood in all that is believed to be told, youth fast given to time that is old, the fight loosing the rage of bold.
Where in the end is fortune to life to be found, given this birth with little chance of the profound, a destiny that ends with the ground, left to ask: what merit of presence is redemption bound?
Naykd Poet, 12 kwietnia 2012
Paul Goodman, more than a contemporary intellectual author of note
For he was a renaissance man who lived his life by all that he wrote
Known today by few unless by chance to hear what he spoke
Now deceased, new generations less likely challenged by his desire to provoke
His philosophy and wisdom meant not merely to disturb
But to incite new constructs to thinking beyond the pervasive standard word
Often discounted for his bisexual lifestyle he managed still to be heard
Remnants of his teachings left to filter through mind’s of our populace herd
Though born of an era framed and anchored by tradition
His unique pacifist and rebellious nature broached chance of his extradition
But stead-fast he held to beliefs and foundation of volition
That spoke prophetically, to 21st century democracy’s failing condition
So to those for whom the name Paul Goodman is extraneous
Here now is chance-clue to find a provocateur thought infamous
To gain renewal to philosophy of wisdom once deemed pretentious
In hopes that it will seed thought to mind that again is contentious.
Author’s Note: Written on reflection of watching movie: Paul Goodman Changed My Life
(http://www.movie2k.to/Paul-Goodman-Changed-My-Life-watch-movie-1285385.html)
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