Ice Coat

Monday- December 31, 2007
This is a poem about the effects of winters' icy coat.

Sky draped in black night

Winters' blast drops crystal sleet

Streets paved with black ice

GREY SHAPED CONE TUBE

Wednesday-November 7, 2007

A funnel shaped violent whirlwind touches

ground. It's power uproots, smash and

destroy many things. The wind sounds eerie;

scary. It has no competition. Man runs for

shelter against its extreme velocity.

Mangled houses, wrecked automobiles and

death were left in devastated debris, from it's eye.

Many survivors vent their tales of wipe out.

In the reality of life, there comes a time to leave,

let go and refurbish. Yet the hardest thing for

mankind is mourning for their lost property,

that was swept away, like a blink of an eye.

Many minds thought why? Looking up at heaven

pondering God's power. There was nothing they

could do, but were thankful to be alive!

A violent, whirling, grey shaped, cone tube was a

Tornado.

This is a short piece about how devastation and lost from the elements can change peoples lives over night. It makes us more humble and thankful to the one who gives us life...God

Canopy Prism

Thursday-November 1, 2007

Metalic blue sky

falls upon the western plains,

celestial night beacon

This is a poem that describe the prism colors before nightfall.

CLOWN OR FLOWER?

Friday-October 19, 2007

Primary sad face clown

See the red bulbous nose,

A female pistil- EL

"The eyes can become illusory

but, reality remans the same."

Life In Meditation

Saturday- 10, 13 2007
Today, mankind must face many scenarios as he struggles to survive. He has been surrounded by unwanted squabbling.
Bombarded with daily stress, strain and disdain, he feels fatigued. He has to flip-flop with many decisions to find a workable solution. Through it all he is glad to enjoy lunch.
In his area of multi-tasking, he needs more than two arms, possibly the eight arms of an Octopus would do just fine for this scenario. However, man does manage to get by. He battles with adversity, stress and disdain but in the arms of death, is the end of life.

Terrestrial Peace

Thursday- October 4, 2007

Curled on the Davenport reading a classic novel, my mind left the printed page to traipse with the weather.
Lying quietly, I listened to the pita-pata of musical raindrops against the glass window.
Outside the slate, sky canopy rumbled, as the lightning flickered like a candle wick. The Sun hid behind cumulonimbus cloud in silhouette.
Quite impressive was seeing the gleam of water beads. They sparkled like crystal, along the blades of green grass. My eyes had witnessed a mesmerizing sight. The beautification of God's terrestrial peace. I rejoiced with palm touching palm in glory.

TERRESTRIAL SERENITY

September 27, 2007

Curled on the Davenport reading a softcover novel, my mind left the printed page to traipse with the weather.

Lying quietly, I listened to the loud, musical raindrops as they hit the window glass.

The grayish canopy sky outside rumbled, while the sporadic lightening flashed, like a flickering candle wick. Hiding behind the clouds in silhouette was the sun.

It was quite impressive, to watch the gleam of water beads. They sparkled like white crystals that were attached to the blades of green grass. A mesmerizing occasion that my eyes witnessed.

The beautification of God's terrestrial serenity by which I rejoiced, with palm touching palm in appreciation.

"It's the simple necessary elements in life that we can't create that is a blessing from the true Universal Creator, God The Almighty." The glory be given to him. EL

Youthful Waters

Youthful Waters

Simone was the beauty of youth
Her hair touched her waist
Pierre met her at a booth
Simone was the beauty of youth
His proposal was lovingly accepted in truth
Pierre was sure of her ingenue
Simone was the beauty of youth
Her hair touched her waist

Youthful waters bring refreshment. E. Lynar

Eyes Watching Life

(((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))

Eyes gazing into the mirror

What does she see?

An ebony face in abstract

stares back in imagery.

Yet, deep cavern within her

is the raw potential to win.

If she tackled her wall of fear,

Her success would be victorious. E. Lynar

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When Thoughts Collide

Words that form scenes tumble and rumble,

my mind talking

draped by white space, huddle mass,

flurry, infusion working to be shaped.

Questions swarm around seeking to be disciphered,

graphite meets paper.

What's this entity, these verses I have launched?

Like a growing embryo, the poem rise up

to explore the outer edge of reality

and the poet sees through the mesh worked screen.

The poem shaped from mind's eye, blossom

like a clear, crystal water fall, bated with

convulsions, in raw ctrated enterprise. You must

tame this cascade, tumbling eruption of words,

channeled into a work of art.

Timely axiom, you have fought rough waters, smooth

out powerful undercurrents and calmed the cataract...

You glance back and find the poem becomes a reality.

It began with thoughts. A resonating creative soul.

Its power and words in free flow

collision are what make a poem extraordinary. E. Lynar