Part of mine never knew the same
when the moon was calling your name
Providence and karmic doors
attractions intention force
Conducted theme of heart
to unite the whole from part
Sight of lovers
reflected silhouettes in colors
Synchronic imagination
invisible sphere inhabitation
Footprints along soft shore
shared ocean sanctuary core
Stardust and fireflies
souls tanning in loving rays
Nurture notices nature.
Healthy humane nurture
notices Earth's natural integrity,
sensual
sexual
sensory
sensed
sourced.
Healthy neurological nurture
notices nature's wealth
of resonant sensory intent,
timeless pregnancy
possibility
probability
potentiality
positives.
Healthy humane nurture
notices nature's wealthy resilience
with right-hemisphere resonance.
Healthy left-hemisphere nurture
notices nature's wealthy
resilient
right-hemisphere resonant intent
intention
recreative tension
events,
critical lose/lose
chronic win/lose
synchronic win/win.
Gaian nurture
notices pregnant nature,
patriarchal
matriarchal
Win/Win
communal experience
of healthy ego-nurture
as wealthy eco-nature.
A tender discourse of artistic thoughts
Ambles my mind searching for prologue
Aiming to become a poetic dialogue,
Striving for words that elicit a response.
And you enter with an aiding portrayal
Letting my words live and breathe,
To evolve into lines of synchronic rhythm
And emanate sounds of lyrical music.
And you tell me words must be set free
To hear as I hear, and feel as I do:
Joy of romance or sorrow of heartbreak,
Elation of birth, or anguish of death.
Words set free weave a cohesive likeness
Choosing a dawn or night of darkness,
Painting a world full of cheer or fear
Upon shiny meadows or wispy pastures.
Shedding limitations of form and syllables,
Guided only by poetic aspirations
You awaken me with a wondrous theme,
You think so big, poem of my dream!
October 27, 2017
Placed first in standard contest #138 by Brian Strand
Mathematical nirvana is the key
To every abyss in all its majesty
The logic in its synchronic beauty
It is the key to doors of destiny
The ultimate consciousness has only one reference point
With minimum of being conscious and ultimate it is conjoint
Because base opens doors to abyss it needs no other reference point
And this ability the very soul can anoint
Abyss breaks the bounds of continuity
Yet it itself is form of continuity
In that lies its majesty
Its spellbinding beauty
That is why ultimate consciousness baffles very imagination
Even if it is a form of realization
But what is beyond realization
For sublime and limitless echo of time is foundation
This transmission is always meshed
Rotating gears of helical threshed
A dog clutch and synchronic ring
Engaging gears this fork in swing
Fourth, Third, second and first
Gears are changed at a burst
Just remember the letter H
When you move that stick
These gears don't grate
Shafts keep turning counter and main
Both can incorporate gears to twain
Idle and helical turning together
Select reverse, it’s truly clever
First, second, third and fourth
The dog clutch slides back and forth
Just select the one you need
Synchronized to match that gear's speed
So don’t forget this grand design
These gearboxes' built with smooth in mind
The next time you hear that crunchy sound
Just bear in mind your synch’s been ground
It’s only you not de-pressing that clutch
Firmly down, not double dee Dutch
So make this process smooth as can be
Then your transition will be sweet harmony
© Copyright K.C.Leake
17th October 2014
All Rights Reserved
Cold numb sensation running through the veins,
Piercing tender touch of nomadic winds
Felling-less pulsating rhythm,
Cunning pain creeping in my soul
You think there are hands to catch you
When you fall into the pinnacle of abyss,
No-one, no-more, exalting tantrums - please
Gaiety of foolishness, caught in the sea of dust.
Slow synchronic passage of time,
Gather me in your arms, take me away
Far away from the reach of science.
Hold me, tenderly and I shut my eyes
To see the world devoid of stinging hurt.
Did I disappoint you daddy?
Was I not good enough the way I’m?
Why do you have to leave so soon?
So here I stand the shallow embodiment,
Shattered mirror, wet with tears,
Do you hate so much me daddy?
Time, take me away, far far away,
To a land where I slumber in peace,
To a land that is free of disease,
To a land where tears taste sweet.
I close my eyes,
and yet I see a flag draped casket,
And as if there, I hear the synchronic
report of rifles,
and the echo of taps that rides the
morning zephyrs.
Perhaps no image portrays the cost of
my freedom,
such as these mental souvenirs gathered
from each war.
They have allowed me, in thought,
to separate fallen heroes from body bags,
while forcing me to review
Another debt,
which also, I can never repay.