A Plethora of grace & beauty-20.11.1989 adjusted on the 16.4.2013

that is festive,merry & blithe
©copyright2013owpp

A Plethora of grace & beauty
————————————

From time to time we all have a ME
That is glad, festive, merry & blithe.
Others where a floater crashes the fete

Wishing to steal this happy episode
Forcing us to sag, brain pumping…
Inveterate negativity, inherent from birth

Result of a chain never severed…
Where do we cut & where do we build?
Life’s exposure is at intervals, stains of ink

On delicate fabric… follow instructions
Patiently & you might foresee a clear, fine
Patch in lieu of the hole created by attrition.

Hold on to the keys of the portal
You could design, projecting, installing
As a counteraction equilibrium so that

The day you have a ME synonym to
Grace & beauty, will be a Plethora of
Constancy with intruders having no

Choice but to bow down on their knees.

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The reality of who we all are-1989 adjusted 19.4.2013

the runner
©copyright2013owpp

The reality of who we all are
————————————

Weary is the runner
Who tried it all.
Nothing that can wrench
A smile from her heart
Has she found

Look and search some more
To run away from
The confinement of her reign.
Spent to the bone
Society lifting her up to hegemony (1)

Weary is she, the runner
Who is a slave to her name
Starting off out of ardor
Never for the claim.
Loosing amity along the track

Collecting honorariums
Thrown at her as a redress
To satisfy her hunger
For fusion and empathy
What is given to the many

Oh! She does find it…
Between two laps of breath
Falling into the trap of poise
The opulence of comfort
The warmth of Kith & Kin

Only to be snatched back
To the constant drill.
Why me, does she ask
Were my choices a delusion
The erratum of my own doing (2)

Speculating she is the only
Stooge life has nominated
The quarry that has stumbled
On a boulder that was waft
On the path of earth

She vows to sleep on these
Wise discoveries with hope
Next day would bring
More reflection and ease
To the happy runner

She wants so much to embody
Still unaware of the cheers
And encouragement of peers
That have been forged by
That same mass hurled

At what became their biography
The journal of their gumption (3)
The teachings available on
The benches of what is solid
The reality of who we all are…

A runner.
———–

(1)
he•gem•o•ny
n. pl. he•gem•o•nies
The predominant influence, as of a state, region, or group, over another or others.

(2)
er•ra•tum
n. pl. er•ra•ta
An error in printing or writing, especially such an error noted in a list of corrections and bound into a book.
________________________________________
[Latin err tum, from neuter past participle of err re, to stray; see ers- in Indo-European roots.]

(3)
gump•tion
n. Informal
1. Boldness of enterprise; initiative or aggressiveness.
2. Guts; spunk.
3. Common sense.

I am all that and much more – Sunday 3rd of March 2013

this tiny,yellow,luminous dot
©copyright2013owpp

I am all that and more
————————–

I have become a tiny yellow dot in the vastness of the galaxies.
Sustaining the starry Prussian blue summer nights
A ball of fury, scorching the moving sands of the deserts
I pick up the privileged, caress them with golden dust
Feed the hungry so they do not congeal in the glaze of a frozen statue.

Your friend or foe, sweet or acrid, hunter…
Pick your cards, choose your destiny.
For I am, the face you want to see…
The choice, the thought you want to feed.
I invade or pervade every square inch of your deepest

I come and go, I am constant.
Blow and form everything into shape
Travel the paths that have been borrowed,
That have not.
I embrace what is shy and simmer what is in the making.

I tread on unfalteringly, come uninvited,
Open doors, crash through walls undeterred.
Grab you in a dance frenzy and cradle your bruised soul
Wipe the sweat off your brow and straighten your hunched mind.
I am the sun, I am the sand, the wind blowing

Tumbleweeds across deserted villages
The speck of dust glittering the surface of a rainbow
Spark in a child’s wondrous gaze
The amusement on the parched lips of the thirsty
Wisdom on the leathered skin of the aged

The notes of music in the autumn rustling leaves
I am all that and more…
I am the love that barks around the corner
Falling into the laps of the unexpected
The beauty showered in the rain of a chosen few

The growling sounds of thunder crashing through
The mountains, intimidating the slumber of nature
Shaking the heavy layers of snow, conducting them
Into an avalanche… commanding you out of inertia
Guiding your mind into the creation of what is me,

You and the plurality of existence
Bringing you back to the reasoning of hope
The meaning of purpose, the golden fabric of growth
Delight and dashingness of youth.
Have you fed the thought you want to be,

Sketched your destiny?
For you are, the tenacity of your stubbornness
The creativity of your genius, audacity in every living flake
The white fluffed duck, gliding on his reflection
Following the line of his ancestors

You are the tiny yellow, luminous dot…
All that and much much more…
For I am you,

I am life.