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| Naykd Poet |
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Naykd Poet, 5 december 2012
Author - Autor
Unwittingly shackled to a chain of volubility
By charge of the ethereal high-court of judgment
To espouse translation of conscious energy
Transcended as Mind of Thought
Promulgating ineffable cosmic wisdom
To a realm of reality’s form
As the written Word
________________________________________
Nieświadomie przykuty do łańcucha potoczystość mowy
By za eterycznego wysokiego wyroku sądu
Aby zwolennikiem tłumaczenia świadomej energii
Przekroczył jak umysł myśli
Ogłaszając niepojęty kosmiczną mądrość
Do sfery rzeczywistości w formie
Jako słowa pisanego
Naykd Poet, 11 november 2012
Remembrance 2012
Remembrance?
We hail courageous heroes of war; but for whom is the true enemy at bastion door; for each nation’s fallen soldier is a heart made sore; and to whom do the real gains amass, while the bereaved tally the deathly score?
___________________________________
To be of common purpose in mind; is not to be to true reasons blind; for the failings within humankind; for the atrocities inflicted upon its own kind; appeased by pageant and ceremony to remind; but in truth’s end, to repetition, it is endlessly inclined.
___________________________________
Spilling mental guts upon the literary floor; thousands pass but simply ignore, for their lack of interest to what may touch their shore; yet find the time to whisper ridicule and messenger to deplore; yielding incessant ignorance to reason, to endure.
__________________________________
Poppy worn upon shoulder lapel
Living remind to those that courageously fell
Each, their unique life’s story to tell
Now left in Poppy, to forever dwell
Poppy pedal, blood, crimson red
A Remembrance of courageous dead
Memories and tears take their stead
Poppy brave-courage and honor: Saluted
REMEMBRANCE DAY
NOVEMBER 11
Naykd Poet, 7 april 2013
Day-dreaming Drem'n
Prospecting the future
With hindsight gaze
Perplexed by the outcome
Of unknown days
Wealth to the measure
Surprised by the scheme
Replenishing the treasure
With yet realized dreams
Love is the passion to the cause
Uncertain to the reason
Defying rational(e) laws
Of day-dreaming dream’n
Naykd Poet, 3 february 2012
Stephen Colbert
‘Stephen Colbert’
This ode of word to the King
Of the comedy hour
His craft of speak
Is yielding much power
Nightly he espouses
A pundits cynical political view
To most who watch
It sounds as something new
The double entendre of his nightly spiel
Is taken by some who think it real
He manifests reasons for thought
A most clever and insightful plot
His wisdom portrayed by his crafty craft
Even all the while making his audience laugh
How great is Stephen’s desire to have you know
That his is not just another COMEDY SHOW
But before the close there’s need for just one more claim:
To all who are aware; Stephen Colbert - is more then just a name!
Naykd Poet, 6 february 2012
The Penny
Humanity’s struggle to survive has become all too clear
Especially for those who hold love of life dear
The struggle for some is far greater than for most
But for the majority of this earthly world – face it – we are all `toast’
Oligarchy and hegemony are words often used
To effectively communicate how the majority of humanity is being abused
So what is the solution to this condition if there is any?
Truth be know it can all be resolved by eliminating – the Penny
The Penny a symbol of that which pervades all
That being Money the cause of humanity’s fall
It fuels power to control and greed to gain
With total disregard to the infliction of suffering pain
Prophetic wisdom of civilizations, ages past
Speak to global apocalyptic crisis heading our way fast
Measures of worldly events recently seen to unfold
Holds evidence of some truth to this wisdom being told
Foundations of institution upon which modern society has been built
Are crumbling under the weight of ever increasing lies and deserving guilt
From those who selfishly feed from the trough replenished by the many
That soon once disaster finally strikes – for all there won’t be any
As in nature, cycles of replenishment is needed to rid of a deathly blight
For humanity, with its cleansing, a golden-age of shared prosperity might see the light
It may be its last opportunity to make life on this Earth finally right
But should this need correction not manifest; life for all will seem an endless night.
Naykd Poet, 9 february 2012
Future Reflection
As this earthly-world revolves around the Sun face
Life increasingly moves at an obtusely, intrepid pace
And, with its time passing, departs further from humanly grace
History distorted reflects an uneven course
Bent to the illusion and whim of the ruling force
Rending a present that emulates the same destructive discourse
Bones to dust of million of souls serve as testament
To humanity’s failing to achieve regiment
Toward shared goals of cognizance
This infused blithe seemingly gaining by genetic code
Will to this and, future human generation, be source to erode
Any semblance of intent for which it was meant to evoke
The corruption of mind and body that is the ill
Is easy for the seeing, not difficult to distill
Yet what remains elusive, is the remedy pill
Eons of earthly-human presence, should it remain
Conjures curiosity if reflection to this past will be a refrain
Especially should the moment of retrospection, read the same
Naykd Poet, 29 march 2012
Weary
I’m mentally weary, I must desist
Doing what is hard to resist
Expressing my inner-thoughts
Most often, what life has brought
It’s become a trait of burden
Needing to speak of life’s excursion
Though there seems yet much to express
I’m emotionally weary, I must desist
Naykd Poet, 9 april 2012
The Internet
All society’s demographic find it all the rage
Internet channels to express love and or enrage
A wireless medium for most to digitally engage
Even religious faiths have now found its electronic stage
Only two decades since its incipient birth
Already in the of billions of dollars its worth
From e-commerce to wood-fires in virtual hearths
But for some practitioners a growing, addictive curse
The abundance of pornography some would make claim
Is the root to the medium’s spontaneous, rapid rise to fame
Arguable but then, just the same
The Internet is forever and forever it will remain
Technological advancement conjoined with social networks
Text messaging and video connectedness the availing quirk
That’s eroded boundaries between personal time and work
365, 24-7 communication: for some a detriment, others a perk
Regardless of how one views this 21st Century technological craze
Its tentacle global reach makes definite it is not a passing phase
But what has yet to be determined are its full implications as societies age
Will it prove a healthy benefit or a plague that has just begun to contage?
Naykd Poet, 12 april 2012
Earthly Life Cycle
Fresh, cool spring air fills the morning breeze
The awakening russeling sound from dormant winter trees
Yearning to burst their buds of new growth leaves
To contrast blue skies with brilliant green for eyes’ to please
Long silent sounds of returning migrating birds
Chirping their lively yet unknown words
Caroling loud to a point that for some may disturb
But only harken to a summer that’s just around the curb
Squirrels scampering about to loose their heavy winter coats
Outdoor camp fires replace the smell of wood-stove smoke
Early spring flowers green-shoots are seen to poke
All good things for happiness in all, to provoke
This timeless cycle to earthly life once again renewed
A rhythm theme contemporary humanity seems lost sight to view
This annual birth-awakening disposed to lesser things to do
A precious nature-gift freely given to All, and not just the few.
Naykd Poet, 29 january 2012
Seed To Salvation
Eons ago upon this living Earth
Repentant souls wanton for redemption
Mired in famine, illness and dearth
Their lack of true faith, their only prevention
Though much time has past to this time of place
The yearning for forgiveness remains
But yet still lacking is their will of grace
Rending encumbrance of ills to sustain
What seed of wisdom failed to root?
That enlightenment to salvation sought eludes
The answer avails its self even to the deaf and mute
For it is harbored within each and all to construe
Naykd Poet, 12 january 2012
Humble Author - Humble Autor
Empty, pouring my life into words
Words not knowing if ever to be heard
A notion that leaves my mind disturbed
A blight of which never to be cured
Years of days indecently go by
The incessant compulsion I try
To avoid expression, to decry
Feelings, expunged by words to die
Countless are the emotions compiled
Page upon page denoting my trials
Conjuring ghostly images, an obscure smile
More often painting a life defiled
Endless seems this timeless chore to be
Scribing this life passage for others to see
A collective tomb wishfully worthy of thee
As humble author to words given to me
_______________________________________
Puste, wylewając moje życie w słowach
Słowa nie wiedząc, czy kiedykolwiek do bycia wysłuchanym
Pogląd, że opuszcza mój umysł zakłócony
Plagi, które nigdy nie do wyleczenia
Lata mijają dni nieprzyzwoicie
Nieustanne przymusu staram
Aby uniknąć wyrazu, potępiają
Uczucia, z których usunięto słowa umrzeć
Niezliczone są emocje skompilowany
Strona po stronie oznaczający moich próbach
Przywoływanie duchów obrazy, tajemniczy uśmiech
Częściej obraz życia zhańbiony
Niekończące się wydaje tej ponadczasowej chore na
Trasowanie ten fragment życia dla innych, aby zobaczyć
Zbiorowego grobu życzeniowo godnym ciebie
Jako pokorny autora do słów mi dane
Tłumacz Google dla Firm:Narzędzia dla tłumaczy
Naykd Poet, 14 january 2012
Love Willing - miłość Willing
The specter of love is born with our heart
Life’s challenge is to find its start
For love is energy for the giving
To all and any on this Earth living
Lost is the understanding of this way
Lost to distraction of modern day
Though many seek it, to re-unite
Life’s callous way puts up a great fight
But the struggle if one does choose
Is a fight that one will never loose
For the specter of love forever in our heart
Only need the willing for it to start
________________________________________
Widmo miłość rodzi się z serca
Wyzwanie życia jest znalezienie jej rozpoczęcia
Dla miłości jest dawanie energii
Na wszelkie tego życia Ziemi
Lost zrozumienia w ten sposób
Utracone do szaleństwa współczesnego dni
Choć wielu jej szukać, ponownego zjednoczenia
Bezduszny sposób życia stawia się wielka walka
Jednak walka jeśli nie wybiera
Jest to walka, że nigdy nie straci
Na widmo miłość na zawsze w naszych sercach
Wystarczy chętnych na to, aby rozpocząć
Naykd Poet, 21 january 2012
Dream’s Domain - Dream Domain
They ebb, they flow
My emotions
Come, then go
Each day’s beginning
Is the only time to know
And from that fateful moment
They start to grow
As endless branches
fanning outward
Spawning feelings
that need be answered
By end day’s light
what emotions’ gained
Their painted picture to be
night dream’s domain
And with this power
be saved emotions’ pain
_____________________________________
Są przypływy, płyną
Moje emocje
Przyjdź, a następnie przejdź
Każdy dzień się zaczyna
Jest to jedyny czas, aby wiedzieć,
I od tej pamiętnej chwili
Zaczynają rosnąć
W niekończących się oddziałów
wachlowanie zewnątrz
tarło uczucia
które muszą odpowiedzieć
W dzień końca w świetle
jakie emocje "zdobyte
Ich namalowany obraz jest
sen nocy domeną
I z tą mocą
ból być zapisane emocje "
Tłumacz Google dla Firm:Narzędzia dla tłumaczyTłumacz witrynNarzędzie analizy rynków
Naykd Poet, 21 january 2012
Laughter’s Hidden Reward - Nagroda Ukrytych śmiech
Church bells echoed harmonious through the valley’s glade
Announcing the returning heroes of the day
Battered and tired they march back from a battle won
Battle’s charge to rid the world of the Evil One
For centuries dating back to times unknown
An evil darkness upon the peoples was sown
Struggle and strife with little reward became their lot
To rid of this Evil One, many a battle was fought
Not until a young man of abundant mirth did come to be
One who is least thought to be source of a remedy
But as his days in number did grow long
His presence and body increasingly grew strong
Then came the fateful day
With thousand strong he led the way
Out of the valley to an outcome unknown
To challenge the Evil One whose powers had grown
Days had past with no word of the warrior’s fate
All in the village lost hope of anything great
Then on a misty morning near summer’s end
They saw the tattered and tired come around the bend
On steed mount that lumbered under hoof
The triumphant leader raised up the Evil One’s severed head as proof
Then from that wondrous day’s welcoming event
The young hero man of mirth was given royal ascent
The moral to this tale or myth
Is to laughter never to resist
For from it can come unbridled reward
Be it through strength of character or a hero’s sword.
______________________________________________
Dzwony echem harmonii poprzez doliny polanie
Zapowiedź powrotu bohaterów dni
Poobijany i zmęczony, że marsz z powrotem walkę wygrał
Bitwa z opłat, aby uwolnić świat od złego
Przez wieki z czasów nieznane
Złą ciemność na ludzi zostało zasiane
Walka i walka z małą nagrodę stał się ich dużo
Aby pozbyć się tego złego, wiele walki stoczono
Dopiero młody człowiek bogaty wesela doszło do
, Który jest najmniej uważane za źródło lekarstwo
Ale jego dni w liczbie nie rosły
Jego obecność i ciało coraz bardziej się wzmocnił
Potem przyszedł fatalny dzień
Z tysięcznej poprowadził nas
Z doliny do nieznanego wynik
Aby wyzwanie Złego, których kompetencje wzrosła
Dni miał w przeszłości bez słowa wojownika los
Wszystko w miejscowości straciła nadzieję na coś wielkiego
Następnie w mglisty poranek w pobliżu koniec lata
Widzieli obdarty i zmęczony się za zakrętem
Na górze rumaka, że ociężale pod kopyta
Triumfalny lidera wzbudził Złego jest odcięta głowa jako dowód
Następnie z tego cudownego dnia powitanie przypadku
Młody mężczyzna bohater wesela otrzymał królewski wejście
Morał tej opowieści czy mit
Jest do śmiechu nigdy się oprzeć
Na to może on pochodzić z nagrody nieokiełznana
To przez siłę charakteru, czy bohaterem miecz.
Tłumacz Google dla Firm:Narzędzia dla tłumaczyTłumacz witrynNarzędzie analizy rynków
Naykd Poet, 26 january 2012
Forlorn Indenture - Forlorn Obligacji
I sit alone, isolated in my box
The only external sound
The clock’s tic-toc
I ask myself why am I here
Is for the answer that I fear?
Isolation is not a good thing
The inner mind works
And with it – delusions sing
I fear not for my sanity
But more so for my vanity
Of being one with myself
Like a old dusty book
Forgotten on the shelf
I could change – blow this myth
That life is good
And my breath a gift
But to where do I go
Though I long for adventure
My life seems relegated
To this forlorn indenture
________________________________
Siedzę sam, samodzielnie w mojej skrzynce
Tylko zewnętrznego dźwięku
Zegara tic-toc
Zadaję sobie pytanie, dlaczego tu jestem
Czy na odpowiedź, że mam się lękać?
Izolacja nie jest dobrą rzeczą
Wewnętrzna działa umysł
A wraz z nim - urojenia śpiewać
I nie bój się o moje zdrowie psychiczne
Ale bardziej dla mojej próżności
, Że jest jednym z siebie
Podobnie jak stare zakurzone książki
Zapomniałeś na półce
Mogę zmienić - cios ten mit
Że życie jest dobre
A mój oddech prezent
Ale gdzie mam iść
Chociaż tęsknię za przygoda
Moje życie wydaje się zepchnięta
W tym opuszczony Obligacji
Naykd Poet, 26 january 2012
A Fish Named Don - Ryby Named Don
Falling into a swamp I forgot was there
My eyes could see, but neither mouth nor nose could breathe for air
As my skin turned blue, my mind grew increasingly faint
Next I knew, I was in a place standing next to a glowing saint
He extended a hand as in a gesture to greet
Strange thing was I was now, standing on my own two feet
Bewildered and perplexed by, in what place I was
His comforting smiling face wordlessly said, `Don’t give it a fuss’
Calmly, still hand in hand, we walked
Though nothing was said, he began to talk
He spoke of this place, this land made by the gods
It was purposely intended for unabashed sods
It was the simple mention of this class of soul
I knew my life had succumb to its ultimate toll
Surprisingly enough I felt much at ease
Especially at the mention, I could have anything I please
As we wondered through hill and dale
My saintly friend continued his telepathic tale
My mind grew full, with what he had to say
And funny thing was, I seem to know it all anyway
We finally arrived at a sweet town that appeared quaint
Flowers seemed to sing and the buildings of rainbow paint
Many people cheerfully frolicked about the street
Gracefully bowing when we had chance to meet
Then in a flash I realized my guardian saint was gone
And there in his place was a man introduced as `Don’
I asked Don, `what is this place?’
To which he replied, `It was my mental space’.
This perplexing response to what I had asked
Put my brain in a boil with this deciphering task
It was then I began to realize what he meant
This was all my imagination – a mind’s invent
So, if it were that this was all in my mind’s creation
I likely could not have left my original situation
Having the sense that I had resolved this unusual puzzle
A strange floating fish appeared and with my nose, began to snuggle
Not wanting for this slimy creature to be sitting on my face
With hands flailing in the air I gave it chase
Then with a flash I suddenly realized
The enchanted place was gone and the water swamp lay open to my eyes
My mind regaining hold of what was in fact now real
My hands though chilled, something at them, I could feel
And there it was I saw, a trout of proportionate size
Starring back up at me with seemingly, knowing eyes
Abruptly sitting up feeling all wet and damped to the bone
My floating friend did not faultier nor want to leave me alone
My mind still foggy by what had just transpired
When the sun reflected on my speckled friend, I couldn’t help but admire
For through the translucent waters I was uncertain if to believe
Whether my eyes were still affecting what I could see
Especially after all that appeared to have gone on
There before me was a fish upon whose flesh appeared to be written: `Don’
_______________________________________
Wpada w bagno Zapomniałem było
Moje oczy widział, ale ani usta ani nos może oddychać powietrzem
Jak moja skóra się sina, mój umysł stawały się coraz bardziej słaby
Następna znałem, byłem w stojące obok świecące święta
Wyciągnął dłoń w geście pozdrowić
Dziwną rzeczą było mi teraz, stojąc na własnych nogach
Zdezorientowani i zakłopotani, w jakim miejscu jestem
Jego pocieszające uśmiechnięta twarz nic nie mówiąc rzekł: Czy nie dać mu kłopotów "
Spokojnie, jeszcze ręka w rękę, poszliśmy
Choć nic nie zostało powiedziane, zaczął mówić
Mówił o tym miejscu, na tej ziemi przez bogów
To było celowo przeznaczone do śmiałe sods
To była prosta wzmianka o tej klasie duszy
Wiedziałem, że moje życie się poddawać aż do jego ostatecznego opłat
Zadziwiające jest to, czułem się bardzo swobodnie
Zwłaszcza na wspomnienie, może mam coś mi się podoba
Jak zastanawiał się przez wzgórza i doliny
Mój święty przyjaciel kontynuował swoją opowieść telepatyczne
Mój umysł wzrosła pełne, z tym, co miał do powiedzenia
I zabawne rzeczy, wydaje mi się, wiem to wszystko tak
W końcu przybył do miasta, które pojawiły się słodkie osobliwy
Kwiaty zdawał się śpiewać i budynków farby tęczy
Wiele osób z radością frolicked o ulicy
Kłaniając się z wdziękiem, kiedy mieliśmy okazję spotkać się
Wtedy w jednej chwili zdałem sobie sprawę, moim opiekunem świętego nie było
A w jego miejsce był człowiekiem wprowadzone jako Don `"
Poprosiłem Don `co to za miejsce?"
Na co on odpowiedział: 'To była moja przestrzeń psychiczną ".
To zdumiewające odpowiedzi na co prosiłem
Umieść mój mózg w wrzenia z tym zadaniem rozszyfrowania
Wtedy zdałem sobie sprawę, co miał na myśli
To wszystko było moją wyobraźnię - umysł wymyślać
Tak więc, jeśli to było, że to wszystko w głowie kreacji
I prawdopodobnie nie opuściły mojej pierwotnej sytuacji
Mając poczucie, że muszę rozwiązać tę niezwykłą zagadkę
Dziwne pływające ryby pojawiły się i nosem, zaczęła tulić
Nie chcąc do tego oślizgłe stworzenia, które siedzą na mojej twarzy
Z rąk wymachując w powietrzu dałem go gonić
Następnie przy użyciu lampy błyskowej I nagle uświadomiłem sobie,
Zaczarowane miejsce było i bagna wody leżał otwarty na oczy
Mój umysł odzyskuje trzymać tego, co w rzeczywistości teraz prawdziwe
Moje ręce chociaż schłodzone, coś na nich, czułem
I to widziałem, pstrąga proporcjonalnej wielkości
Obsada z powrotem na mnie z pozoru, oczy wiedząc,
Nagle siedzący czując się cała mokra i tłumiony do kości
My pływających przyjaciel nie psują się, ani nie chcą zostawić mnie w spokoju
Mój umysł wciąż mgliste, co się właśnie okazało
Kiedy słońce odbite na moim nakrapiane przyjaciela, nie mogłem pomóc, ale podziwiam
Dla poprzez przezroczyste wody byłem pewien, czy wierzyć
Czy moje oczy były nadal obciążają co widziałem
Szczególnie po tym wszystkim pojawił się pójść na
Przede mną była ryba, na którego ciało wydaje się być napisane: Don `"
Naykd Poet, 29 january 2012
Underworld Of Existence
Whimsical, magical fantasy world a joy to behold
Omnipresence of wonders of creativity seem to unfold
Notorious antics of spirited pixies and goblins told
Dragon’s brazened in flight spew fire’s flame bold
Rambunctious, mischievous creatures to never grow old
Oracles of wisdom scribed, ancient and scrolled
Underworld of existence demanding imagination’s toll
Succumb to this wondrous adventure; allow its salaciousness to take hold
Naykd Poet, 12 april 2012
Paul Goodman - Not Forgotten?
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)
Naykd Poet, 11 june 2012
A-lien Face?
(Reference Graphic A-lien Face)
A face: intuitively came to mind
A face: drawn with eyes blind
A face: instinctively reverent and kind
A face: known by a different time?
A face: different then that known
A face: that spoke of once a home
A face: of happiness and love shown
A face: meant for me alone?
A face: lips full and eyes blue
A face: I know, once I knew
A face: that beckons to renew
A face: from whom I grew?
Naykd Poet, 11 july 2012
What Awaits Us?
How frivolous the world has gotten
All the seriousness want to be forgotten
While things get sicker and rotten
YouTube, twitter and facebook are just’a rock’n
Duality, schizophrenia what you may call it
This journey into madness is gone hyperbolic
Ensuring humanity’s demise is catastrophic
And believe it or not - some will still try to profit
Doomsday scenarios have long been prophecy
But none can match this current lunacy
A world divided by countless conspiracy
That all seem eluding a true sense of human decency
What eventually manifests is obviously unknown
But from what our historic past has shown
What awaits us our own seeds have sown
And for that, as a civilized people, we have not truly grown
Naykd Poet, 11 july 2012
Word’s Communication
The weaving of Words
Can be the Undoing
To forfeit an End
Or it’s Ensuing
Fomented in the Minds
Of the Unassuming
Structure and Context
The frame of it’s Intent
The Goal of its Inventor
For Minds to be Bent
Objective or Subjective
Neither is of Concern
The Outcome the Objective
Is what need be Learned
And for the World to Discern
So Heed this Warning
For What it is Giving
Lost to the Mind-Dead
Left to the Life’s Living
Naykd Poet, 11 july 2012
Will the Rain Ever Stop?
Like the rain that falls from the sky
Tears stream from my eyes
For the pain that runs so deep
I dream of it even in my sleep
It is pain for the world that suffers
Under the tyranny of others
For the brutality that prevails
From bullets that fall like hail
When will this insidiousness stop?
Whose wisdom will unveil the plot?
To bring humanity back to its senses
To take love and peace beyond consensus
Naykd Poet, 16 july 2012
Taint Of Remembrance
Awoken to a dream beyond sleep
Floating beyond reality’s keep
Presence of being without need of feet
Left to mind-paint fantasy’s treat
Episodic in their unique unfolding
Characters comprise of the known and unknowing
Each visitation finds comedy, drama or love growing
Left to embellish with mind-paint fantasy’s sowing
Dream amnesia pronouncement to the sudden waking
All illusional emotions gain lost for the forsaking
Though taint of remembrance to an undertaking
Yields redemption: fleeting, pleasure-glance, re-embracing
Naykd Poet, 28 may 2012
Carney-ride To Nowhere
Standing outside, detached, observing willing participants on this carousel of life
Amused watcher to the systematic structure of its repeating traditions
Vocal critic to its unified, cyclical rotation of delineated similarities
Purposely and perceptively disconnected from its contrived ups and downs
That are unquestioningly assumed by most to garner reward: to define purpose
Achievable by pre-set objective: to capture the visible, yet purposely elusive, golden, glimmering ring of inspiration to success
That is tantalizingly hung, dangling, just beyond the measured reach of most daunted players
Yet generation upon generation fall victim to this derived, cognitive societal plan
A contrivance of an invisible, self-appointed force of despotic intellectualism
An elitist minority cult of humanity safe-guarded behind reinforced walls of fractal economics
Blindly defended by legions of the same mindless ticket-holders to this carney-ride to nowhere.
Naykd Poet, 29 april 2012
Miracle of Nature
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, 29 april 2012
Posthumous Reward
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 april 2012
Proclamation
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, 11 may 2012
Brooding Frustration
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, 11 may 2012
New Seeds To Sow?
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?
Latest comments:
18 may 2024
kb
jakoś kojarzy mi się z "siostrami wielkiej
18 may 2024
no chyba że pomieszkuje
18 may 2024
zdaje się że nikt tu już nie mieszka
18 may 2024
bardzo
18 may 2024
orzeźwieni... prawie jak otrzeźwieni... i to
16 may 2024
violetta
Może w lipcu będę miała takie wakacje:)
16 may 2024
jeśli tylko
słońce w płynie..
15 may 2024
Weronika
Za jeszcze jeden rejs!
14 may 2024
Mam takie oko :)
14 may 2024
Jaga
Zwierzęta upodobniły się do koloru otoczenia
14 may 2024
To naturalny suchy i pustynny klimat. I tam są
14 may 2024
Klimat taki, że nie był i raczej nie będzie,
19 may 2024
wiesiek
19 may 2024
Satish Verma
18 may 2024
Satish Verma
17 may 2024
Satish Verma
16 may 2024
Satish Verma
15 may 2024
Jaga
15 may 2024
Satish Verma
14 may 2024
Satish Verma
13 may 2024
Satish Verma
11 may 2024
Satish Verma