Life's source

                                      Life source

Women are like the flower beds on the prairies,

they enhance the visual and stimulate the senses,

like peaks and curves of the mountain tops,

like the valleys and evergreen pastures...a delightful kaleidoscope of reflective 

lights that bounce back with charm  and inquisitive intrigues,

like a meadow in endless rejuvenation,

 a waterfall in parched regions,

an oasis of never-ending want,

like shades and shadows tossed dancing dusk-to-dawn,

nocturnal roost daylight dew native and foreign visitor's fragrance chant,

sun-dance, rain-dance collaborate the seasons,

She is a kaleidoscope of charm and chant,

She is like a complex maze and puzzles, that lead to a wealth of findings and intrigue.

She is a continuous melody' that resonates like the pounding of my heart, through-out the day and night.

Like a fresh spring breeze that last many seasons,

She is like a cascade that echoes in water-less regions, bringing to life anything in it's path.

She stands alone in the presence of many, in silence she instructs her audience.

She is an inspiration of thoughts, a pool of resources.

a true gem that host the endless commotions in the eyes of a grand scheme, a perfectas love joy."


God almighty surely out did himself in creating a fine companion, for his first creative off-spring.
 
(C) Right
Raphael G

Steadfast reaching out

                   Steadfast reaching out

One can find themselves easy, if adjusting to a superficial environment is easy contention ! Where are the adjustments ?

But the unseen, sighing... and yearns with words un-uttered (unspoken). It collaborates with messengers, and porters to herald the words. Partially digested, patiently it awaits...awaits for the total consume and nourishment.

In place are a chess-board of players, each one moves accordingly to the chess-masters wishes. The play-ground and field in turn becomes the host to which moves are made, to fill vacuums and gaps...subjects in a Kabuki drama oblivious comma,

Ancient drama, players the same, millennium's in the making, hour glass sifting, markers and signs all to obvious. Nations in parallel, masses awakens, consumer and destroyer ever present, a menace to yearn sighing the unuttered.

A call is made...I hear...I feel...sounds, frequencies, vibrations, colorful spectrum's of lights, I reach the same...why I'm I here ? Nourish with completeness of sacred expressions moves the player.

The benevolent host unuttered the scheme, foundations shakes...playing fields rearrange, the play-ground fruitful, never the forgotten. The endless cycle...or so it seems, what do they do ? Trapped in the belly of a time capsule allotted wishes that never metastasize ! Able bodies in trivial matters, charger at the gauntlet...the other side the unspeakable !

Restless in the quest to remain the under nourished, the contention tailor made or made to order...the host running thin makes for the next move ! Selection, choices, calls not for the many.

03/08/17

By: Raphael G

Motherly Rescued

Motherly rescued

There is a time when man looses hope and inspiration, he finds very little comfort in his surroundings,

He somehow manages to stay afloat in the environment in which he chooses to reside.

Life to him is not so important as he ponders the effects of death, man goes and carry on his relentless pursue in finding meaning to his life,

He encounters beauty in the world where the earth is constantly being destroyed of God's purpose's, and still memories rekindle his vision about where to start again in the journey for honor, respect, loyalty, horsemanship.

Man have a sense of awareness, he knows about all things and spirituality is his greatest call, he rekindles and reaffirm...himself because of his adversaries have torn away his last strong hold, but yet his spirit is uplifted from others whom he see's as himself.

There is a cry louder than heaven it reaches God's throne, God is a just God, he hears our whispers also our thoughts, nothing goes unnoticed in the web He wove.

If man calls on God, he must not fear life or death, these two go hand to hand with his purpose.

Night follows day and day follows night a paradox, filled with meaning and disguise.

If we man or women call on Him, it will require a great sacrifice from those whom call on him. Some day ones faith will save him or challenge his or her devotion. Life is a privilege it holds many wonders, surprises, intrigues, fascinations, and a world of untold riches of spiritual gifts, eternity and God's blessings so as to marvel at his creation.

A man is God's image, women are an extension of God's tender side of compassion, I wish God was my mother to really understand my greatest want! Someday a door will open and many will be called, I hope to find the true warriors at the other side. Someday a call will empower me to venture forth as a spiritual warrior for God Almighty. Man for now yearn to find hope and inspiration to move hand and hand with God's choir.

Sept.97

Reflections

DAYS FOR REJOICE AND WEEPING

The nomads rejoice when they see newly land,

The elder widow rejoice when she sees newly weds,

The new born cries because of future sorrow,

The peasant rejoice when he sees the rainy season,

The married couple are sad, because her sterile womb can't

produce,

The criminal is guilty of a crime he doesn't understand,

Low in spirit is the heart breaker for he has lost his touch.

The poor and the rich have embarked in a race, they both will greet in the end.

The days are long, the nights are short, life passes by and so does our dreams.

There are times, things we most hope on, comes and crushes the expectation of what could have been but isn't.

I look around to comprehend the seasons, each one brings a message, even the wind tells about the future.

I stared at the birds, to listen to their interpretations, they cry and weep, rejoice and reflect of what brings the next day.

At times what causes us to be or not to be, depends on how much thought you gave to the matter.

Give a day to reason, give a day to understanding, give a

day to patience, give a day to happiness, give a day to love, give a day to peace, and a day to rest,

so you may see the pain of labor, and the sorrow of ruins.

Sometimes I'm viewed as cruel, tasteless, cold, mechanical, misplaced, but inside of me, outflows of tears overcome me, because of what has become of this world.

BY: Raphael G

Ink n paper

                                           Ink and paper

The ability to self-express, I mean really to convey the true person (the secret person) individual,
takes on a whole dimension and approach.
Being spontaneous to many is like bursting with words and actions aimlessly. But to the well trained and sight, being the true-self, took on a life time of achievements.

The emotional-self (nurturing being) and logical-self (mechanical being) these characters are at a cross-point, since the beginning of time, and just as ancient ! The balance of gifts, may take someone a life cycle and then at our last death stroke we become endow with the ultimate expression.

To be truly free is not rationalizing that we are the wind...to ride the wind is an abstract mindset.

To flow like a mighty river or a gentle stream invokes great passion, when the spirit is stirred it reveals wonders...yet there is a hollow void that chokes at the end.

So where are we ? When the questions and answers are so inspiringly crafted, that seeking the ultimate-expression can lead to a host of the unknown !

Again I take to the Ink and white paper, they hold and record the knowledge...lost and found, seeking its audience, breaking all barriers...setting a path on which there can be guidance, not demanding nor dictating , just benevolent...patient and all embracing.

10/20-1/2016
Raphael G

Lament for departed doll

                   Lament for departed doll

Here once again I sit surrounded by creation. By a small stream of water that tell tales about my life's esteems that once were so plentiful and massive trees that reveal history. By musical bird’s that play haunting melodies, expressing their version of happiness. By laborious creatures that don't give up trying and a restless sunlight beaming on the leaves of where I shade.

Here I sit in the middle of nowhere all directions I look there's a road or a passageway someone once took, my heart desires to help but, who knows how far they stumble forth?

As I patiently sit observing my surroundings I saw a cat decorated in flashing colors distracted and even took no notice of me determine by her pains and a belly full of unborn kittens, she flagged by anxious about her where about's.

Here in the middle of nowhere one comes to meditate and initiate contact with his creator. As I sat patiently a few cautious passers bye's managed to stroll along their path and I wandered!

I long to know and press ever forward too that extra mile to find a road or a path that can lead me to you. For every breath of air fills me with wonderful thoughts about you. Here I send you things a heart can do.

Everything in life is temporarily but the memories of you are everlasting. Your innocent smile brings joy to all low in spirit. Present yourself to me in ways unknown and I, will judge you righteous, for your ways are wonderful, beautiful, and charming. I'm the one who knows and will not give in trying to interpret them. For your ways, are signals to those who follow.

I have found my way towards you, with the little courage that resides me, and the valor I can summons from above. Truly I'm like a young lad in search of understanding, Like the birth of a new star awaiting acceptance, awaiting placing, seeking instruction, finding little hope, stumbling to reach hearts, and yet I weep, I joy, I endure, with many thanks for my very existence is a privilege.

Renew your friendship with me, just as the season compliments one another. Point my way out to the light again, lead my soul out of captivity, be the one to save me and I will be in debt to you forever. Compassion, mercy, reason, and love had a debate at the end they all gave way and rejoiced.

                                
(5/2-10/12-94)               

BY:Raphael G

© right

MoonLight

Moonlight strangeness

I'm strange and stranger than none...I feel uninvited in the world in which I tread, yet all are invited to seek my strangeness,

when ever this moonlight is absent I cannot inspire even the night becomes too silent and creation is in the same low spirit,

But when it’s full or not being obscured this light is the gift that compliments such a vast array of phenomenal physics that I could not embrace,

Sometimes it is only half full and my anticipation grows and grows, like that of a mighty river raging for her to fully mature,

The flower beds rejoice at her sight as they have early blossoming from her blessed mist, and in the morning feel refreshed and invigorated,

The prairies, mountain tops, hills, valleys, the oceans, the young calf, the prancing colt, the wing creatures, that nest happily in their resting place,

The gentle fresh air, that makes the open night such pleasant a moonlight, She is the light that shines and shines causing so much commotion, yet innocent partaker in all her actions.

Moonlight the kaleidoscope of extraordinary events, keeps her radiant and focus,

The ever burning spotlight that pierce my soul, nothing like her in splendor, nothing like her in absence.

When I step into the night from my cradle there is this bright light a celestial body that never seems to leave me, It follows everywhere I tread illuminating my pathway, and when it’s full it resembles a lamp someone set up with purpose,

The creatures of the night howl, cry, and sing...their interpretations are all unique, this goes on throughout this nocturnal cycle of intrigue and charm just to repeat once again,

The flying visitors die trying to reach her magnificent splendor, and that is the beauty of it all, the Grand builder had it all well within reach for us to write and respect, fall to our knees and praise….and praise.

(C) Right Protected 2007 

By: Raphael G

Dream Weaver

 

Dream weaver

Like a voyage of long ago,

A time long awaited, where the inspiration rejuvenates an inspirator of dreams,

there aren't rehearsed dreams better than agitated currents,

nothing prepares an inspirator for events so impacting like these...only that emotions and innate feelings incorporate to weave complex feelings that exhaust the soul already in surrender.

Again I find myself embracing for the shock of my life...like it was yesterday.

I reason like a innocent young lad in my search for truth, harmony, feelings, principles, and virtues...Oh Lord save me' help me' give strength...understanding in this world of dreams that never seem to seize pouring my way...I'm not dignified of the leveled thinking.

If poetry is letters of second hand, why do I find myself hindered in what is revealed before me? If poetry is letters of second hand' why do I summons a supreme being? Like this was a debate between me and the creator! My reinforcement is to continue revealing the fundamental things of the heart and pursue the current correctness in guiding the senses.

Never doubt what I write...from the most profound things of the heart inspired reasoning ushers forth what the dream weaver feels in his inspired search.

There can be no falsehood in revealing...more likely it is the initial stage to convocate dialogue, where there is invocation souls come together like poetry and the letters to promote communication in the field of thinking. Poetry and its power for sure have gained its rewarding crown for time to come.

She weaves my broken dreams,

she's soft like the morning mist,

she has these beautiful blues...one is the vast oceans...the other a bright sky in a touching spring break,

she's a master work of whom the thinkers of modern and ancient times debate if she is true or not,

she's an electrifying maiden, no need for dynamic energy to assemble my thoughts,

She would be a great lament if lost and the Divine beings would lament her for an eternity.

What would become of me if she was bones of my bones and fresh of my fresh? I care for her like the hen care for their kind.

I would be enchanted with her like a toddler and toy of interest,

she would be my toy in my eternal toddling.

What can a poor gentile man do for a maiden such touching? If life is all I possess ...than my sacrifice is not in vain!

She's hope for a fallen people and they anticipate in her revealing treasures, O' grandiose king of eternity woe' to me if this was letter of second hand, you are my guide...My fort and my call...you my Judge' that the reality is the sacred expression.

O' my Lord equip me for the outstanding of this dream, you well know my tragedy...I'm innocent in this dream that I can't construct, prepare my path according to the events of worth and surprises in which I must embrace, I ask no more...otherwise that the sacred expression returns fortified in a world of abnegation and absences.

© right protected

By: Raphael G

 06/15-23/07

Admirer's reproach

                                                     

                                                                                                    
                                                                           Admirer’s Reproach

Why did you leave the window open?
 

Were you expecting a stranger in the night?
 

Every day I sit by the front door way, you past by like I wasn't there;
 

Yet your fragrances are fresh like morning dew I know better.
 

Your never lonely in your house angels guard your safe keeping.
 

Go ahead ask me where I have been? I tell you things just keep happening,
 

I must speak of what I have abandon, the vaulted sky the earth below, shadows tossed, and the land of broken dreams.

If I could find comfort for just a while it would be in the corner stairways;
 

Leading to my admirer’s reproach! Like autumn’s foliage that chariots to their winter bed,
 

Where is my resting place for today? Like dust driven away my soul finds no refuge…I have become tired, exhausted in my quest to reveal the sacred spiral, who is worthy in my madness?
 

Lead me captive in the sorrows of my beloved strange host where the sun rises from the Far East touching my deeps wounds. 

The many whom my strangeness admired, but stranger than none; here to abide with it in my strange loved. I lay me down until my next resurrection in the near coming spring the day of my birth many years ago when my father woven me in the secret place, not troubling where I sweetly slept.”

BY: Raphael G

(C) Right

Melodies

MELODIES OF THE NOBLE LADY,

TO A FORGOTTEN GENTLEMAN

Like crystal clear sparkling trickles of water,

her fingers would dash, into the keys of the piano

creating haunting melodies that cascade into my path.

As she took her stand, and began staring at the audience

they laud her in silence. Those mourning over there sick ones came to life, for so glorious was her music, anything

wither would blossom.  I marvel as she closed her eyes, I

picture her mapping the earth, with her wonderful thoughts.

As she relaxed herself, I embraced myself for my emotion

were too great to reveal.  I embraced myself for the slightest mistake would endanger my intentions.

She's a light of hope, for all low in spirit.

She's like a fallen star among mankind who can't do without

her, and everything she touched she gave significance.

Her ways demanded great attention, and every little thing

about her became a proverb.

As she sat down and arrange herself, her feet made the sounds of marching armies returning from a favored battle.  Echoes, thunders, lightning, overshadowed the atmosphere which I eagerly awaited.  The instrument which she played, was viewed has having a personality for they were both so well balanced.  So enlighten became the room, everyone had to veil themselves, for she looked so heavenly.  Her eyes were like dungeons that would imprison anyone who stared at them.

She's an inspiration of thoughts,

She's an everlasting source of joyous memories,

She's a pool of refreshments,

Her youth had the direction of able parents.  Signals her ways have become for this generation,

Her laughter carried tunes of innocent doves, and her

cries well rooted feeling.

Her world enchants me to the highest degree.

Her resources are an endless spring of rejuvenation,

She's a fountain of youth, and as I partook all erosiveness

relegated.  As she stood to conclude her works, she was well

rewarded.

I felt so near, but yet so far away from her, so happy but

yet sad, for I prize all nobles, but no one prize me.  Many roads await you, destiny can be chosen.

Sept.92

Performance By : Valentina Lisitsa
I take no credit, or gains by sharing a fair clause for use of material.

© Right By: Raphael G

Lament

    Lament for departed doll

Here once again I sit surrounded by creation. By a small stream of water that tell tales about my life's esteems that once were so plentiful and massive trees that reveal history. By musical bird’s that play haunting melodies, expressing their version of happiness. By laborious creatures that don't give up trying and a restless sunlight beaming on the leaves of where I shade.

Here I sit in the middle of nowhere all directions I look there's a road or a passageway someone once took, my heart desires to help but, who knows how far they stumble forth?

As I patiently sit observing my surroundings I saw a cat decorated in flashing colors distracted and even took no notice of me determine by her pains and a belly full of unborn kittens, she flagged by anxious about her where abouts.

Here in the middle of nowhere one comes to meditate and initiate contact with his creator. As I sat patiently a few cautious passers bye's managed to stroll along their path and I wandered!

I long to know and press ever forward too that extra mile to find a road or a path that can lead me to you. For every breath of air fills me with wonderful thoughts about you. Here I send you things a heart can do.

Everything in life is temporarily but the memories of you are everlasting. Your innocent smile brings joy to all low in spirit. Present yourself to me in ways unknown and I, will judge you righteous, for your ways are wonderful, beautiful, and charming. I'm the one who knows and will not give in trying to interpret them. For your ways, are signals to those who follow.

I have found my way towards you, with the little courage that resides me, and the valor I can summons from above. Truly I'm like a young lad in search of understanding, Like the birth of a new star awaiting acceptance, awaiting placing, seeking instruction, finding little hope, stumbling to reach hearts, and yet I weep, I joy, I endure, with many thanks for my very existence is a privilege.

Renew your friendship with me, just as the season compliments one another. Point my way out to the light again, lead my soul out of captivity, be the one to save me and I will be in debt to you forever. Compassion, mercy, reason, and love had a debate at the end they all gave way and rejoiced.

                               

(5/2-10/12-94)               BY: Raphael G

© right