I enjoy your writing, Lol I thought it was never going to end, I kept scrolling down thinking hmm its just not going to end is it. Epic.
Glad you liked it, Chi. Adam, Eve, God, and the Garden of Eden were but literary devices. Elfin Legends and The Lore and Legends of the Colors will eventually complete the trilogy.
Apprentice to Master You thought you were in-fact teaching the student, Un-Aware of the Grass-hopper Concealing it's Movement. He infiltrated your Brother-Hood already knowing the score. He Never swore The Oath, Using his Art-of-War. He swore Covenants with The Most-High Before Jumping on-board, It was written In Malachi have you not yet read them all. From Lodge to Lodge, Land to Land, Masonic halls I sometimes Stand. My Degree is above Thirty Three, the Elder tried to shake my Hand. His Grip was weak, I Pinned Thumb to palms cheek and said do you not Over-Stand?, Look into my eyes and see the World for He is above Man.
Line up your Formations, Muster The Cavalry, Lay down Intel on Opperations, Assemble The Infantry, Psy-Ops and Espionage will Inform the scout Party Telepathicaly, Tragedy and Savagery, We must Breach Defences of the Enemy. What Troops Do I have to Salute?, I use Lightning Bolts From Zues to Spit-Shine My Tabi Boots. Aloof Upon Roof-tops, the Lone Shinobi Glides Between Gun-Shots Silence..... The sound of a Pin Drops, The Twist Of the Plot Stops. Vanquishing evil Wandering Ronin jinn , Slaying Dragons from Omens of Odin.
The Will of the Living O` Blade of grass why do you grow?, O` Shade of Darkness why do you glow?. Lovers Unite into Blossoms of Children, Spirits Ignite into Twin Flames of Kindred. O` Fair Maiden why do you Dream `Carnival's of Romance?. O` Young Princess why are you drawn to that `Which Enchants?. Winds and the Waters, they Sweep away Daughters, Swim's and dance's upon the Jasmine petals Laughters. O` Man of Righteous hands, why do you fight evil where-ever you stand?. O` Young Prince of the lands, why do you save her from Thieving Bands?. The Will Of His Majesty Is Written In Lifes Tapestry.
Lol, I try to write so all types of people can enjoy. I like Young boys and Girls to be able to understand the Jist of it, not just for Learned adults to understand. Knowledge is for all. Peace/
Using Prayers I purify myself, Perfume oils from my potion shelf, Align the Chakras before I delve, Using seals of the Most high to dispel. Jinn-spirits Walk, the Earth do they sail, They don’t roam around beneath the depths of Hell. Wizards challenge me in the astral dojo, Sorcerers Ambush me when traveling solo. A Tempest once Sent a Temptress to intoxicate my senses, My defences were offensive, Surely my adversaries saw my style was perfected. I spared their lives so they retreated and hastily projected. The Mage transformed into a Rage of Purple Haze, it fragmented into Rain that got away for her to conjure another day.
"Lose Yourself" Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity To seize everything you ever wanted-One moment Would you capture it or just let it slip? His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin what he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out He's choking now, everybody's joking now The clock's run out, time's up over, bloah! Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked He's so mad, but he won't give up that Easy, no He won't have it , he knows his whole back's to these ropes It don't matter, he's dope He knows that, but he's broke He's so stagnant that he knows When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's Back to the lab again yo This this whole rhapsody He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him [Hook:] You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo The soul's escaping, through this hole that it's gaping This world is mine for the taking Make me king, as we move toward a, new world order A normal life is boring, but superstardom's close to post mortem It only grows harder, only grows hotter He blows us all over these hoes is all on him Coast to coast shows, he's know as the globetrotter Lonely roads, God only knows He's grown farther from home, he's no father He goes home and barely knows his own daughter But hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water His hoes don't want him no more, he's cold product They moved on to the next schmoe who flows He nose dove and sold nada So the soap opera is told and unfolds I suppose it's old partner but the beat goes on Da da dum da dum da da EMINEM
COLOR SYMBOLS In the nether world, I learned the lore and Legends of the colors, of their uses In nature and emotions, the whatfor Of their light’s glowing activity: All color variants, quite numberless, Are made from the three primaries, no less; Namely: red, yellow, and blue—often backed By colorless white tinges or shades of black. From just these three essential hues derives All of heaven’s prismatic radiance, Myriad colors of floral brilliance, And technicolors that come so alive. The offspring of married red and yellow Is the secondary, orange, a bright fellow; Its sibling, of blue and yellow, is green, With, of course, some gradation in between. Saintly brother purple, twixt reds and blues, Completes the second generation hues. Next to arrive, lime-green, is a grandchild, As are all the tertiary colors wild— They’re crimson, magenta, maroon, scarlet, Amber, auburn, salmon, ocher, russet, Mauve, taupe, fuchsia, cherry, cerise, umber, Teal, emerald, and vermilion others. Strangely enough, all the color-pairs That symbolize seasons and festive fairs As they’re found naturally in nature’s ways, Do contrast on the color wheel, crossways: Direct opposites on the color wheel, Sky-blue and leafy-orange, represent fall, For they are autumn’s contrasting colors That quite up for its lack of flowers. As with crocus, spring’s floral colors yet Remain yellow primrose, purple violet— The sensual sun, as it were, warming The virginal earth, with love, into spring. The Christmas Holiday Season is “seen” In its opposing hues of red and green— As in Holly, berry-red, ever-green, Or in Poinsettias’ red flush, leaf of green. We’re out of diametric color sets, So, which for summer? It must then contain The entire spectrum, as these the sunset And the rainbow express, in shine and rain. Since winter’s snow hides all things out of sight, Its colors are hidden inside white—and night, The cold season’s symbols, for they conceal All of spring and summer’s bright floral feel. For that as different as day and night, We have the twin-opposites: black and white, For the day-clock first became dark and light When twin-gods split day & night, wrong & right. Heaven’s splendor, white, for purity, bless, Holds all the colors of prismatic light, But the symbol of the Prince of Darkness, Black, removes all the colors from our sight. So then, it is proved that, in both nature And in the color wheel, opposites attract And complement in their contrast—to procure Both real and symbolic color contracts. Next, we’ll turn to the colors lone, to see The whatfor of their light’s activity, But first, let’s ask, Are there any missing hues, Unknown, hidden in rainbows, or not used? Hidden colors? No, for I see how red goes To orange, graduating through the rainbow Into yellow and on through green, to let Blue into indigo to become violet. Perhaps, between green and blue, lies some new Tincture, unique enough to be it’s own hue, But, alas, those turquoise waves everyday, In tropic seas, wash that theory away. Yet, there may be some new colors that lie Before or beyond the spectrum and the eye, Like infrared or ultraviolet, Or gold, which only the fairies can see. But what of clear, white, silver, gray, or black? Well, they’re not true colors, for, either they lack All color (black, clear) or hide all hues (white) Or are mixtures (gray, silver): black-white. But wait, there is a well-known color, One quite common in both dress and nature, That cannot be found in the rainbow— Give up? It’s brown—and has nowhere to go! Brown is the color of death, like the leaves That crumble dry and lifeless when earth grieves, Which is why the faeries won’t let it show In their magically spectral rainbow. But, alas, brown’s new hue is not to last, For brown’s no more than red, yellow, and black. So, onward we move: What do colors mean? What’s nature’s physiological scheme? When we see red, we see danger: Stop! Blood! Metabolism rises, adrenaline floods— And, so, restaurants use red tablecloths To increase both the appetite and the cost. Yellow, the quickest color we can see, Means caution, as with black on a bee, But yellow’s bright and cheerful, too, and lends Light to small and sunless rooms like kitchens. Healthful orange is the common man’s color; So, to make the expensive look cheaper, Such as with a hotel, they paint it orange, And put some shiny polish on the door hinge. Blue invigorates, and, therefore, provides Extra strength and power, so blue’s on our side When the home team’s locker room is painted In its hue (visitor’s was pink—they fainted). Blue, as was said, is good, except on food, For few foods are blue; so, in diet mood, Put a blue light in your kitchen—and lose Weight avoiding repulsive looking food. Pink (red tinted with white) debilitates, Sapping strength and temper, so, that is why It’s used in prison cells and locker rooms, For it calms the most violent inmates. What of purple? Well, it’s mournful, but, too, It’s stately, regal, and virginal, new. Of green, though it’s seldom worn, none complain; And use it in their carpets to stay sane. The stars are not just white, they scintillate: Sirius is blue, its companion green; Betelgeuse, red; many, like Sol, yellow; Arcturus, orange—all jewels constellate. Well, as colors go, so, then, do we, see: Hues are just differing wavelengths of light That the brain interprets, in its own right, For some natural colored necessity. May I chance upon a land of strange rainbows Of elfin-hued flowers: red delphiniums, Black tulips, orange fuchsias, white marigolds, Bronze grass, and the legendary blue rose.
Here, I will modify one of my above poems and adapt it 100% for a Hip Hop Instrumental. Just for you ^_^ Passion
Original Poem below¬ "Line up your Formations, Muster The Cavalry, Lay down Intel on Opperations, Assemble The Infantry, Psy-Ops and Espionage will Inform the scout Party Telepathicaly, Tragedy and Savagery, We must Breach Defences of the Enemy. What Troops Do I have to Salute?, I use Lightning Bolts From Zues to Spit-Shine My Tabi Boots. Aloof Upon Roof-tops, the Lone Shinobi Glides Between Gun-Shots Silence..... The sound of a Pin Drops, The Twist Of the Plot Stops. Vanquishing evil Wandering Ronin jinn , Slaying Dragons from Omens of Odin." Modified Into Bars Below¬ "Line up your formations, muster the Cavalry, Intel on operations, assemble the Infantry, Inform scout party’s telepathically, Tragedy and savagery, Breach defences of the enemy, What troops do I have to salute? Lightning bolts from Zeus spit-shine my Tabi boots. Aloof upon roof-tops, The lone-shinobi glides between gun-shots Silence.... (Pause for quater bar) The sound of a pin drops, (Pin drop effect) The twist of the plot stops Vanquishing wandering Ronin-jinn, Slaying Dragons, Omens of Odin Fear what I’m holding Tenchu approaching. Piccolo, See me evolving Special beam cannon loading" Had to add a lil more lol peace.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BVZB1vk6Hk And this is the Song my Verse should be used in (Except the last couple of bars they were just whatever to puff it out past 16 req etc. Hmm I should give Bis or Priest a call and get permission to add a verse for a remix. Peace.
Three weeks through the sandy desert dunes We finally meet at the temple gates by noon Meditation was resumed until the rise of the Moon We were lead down the tunnels by hooded monks with no shoes Through the doors Of Al-Aqsa, leading to the many chamber rooms One of my companions triggered a contraption that swung into action The hooded monks vanished without visual caption from my faction Distraction, an ambush, we’ve been set up Formation B, defence maximum, diamond line up They formed a barrier around my own inner parameter As the scroll carrier I did what I had to do Not Juju I don’t perform sorcerers voodoo I scorched a Glyph into memories of an astral rift Summoned Three Lion cubs from out the mist One for each week of my journey to the Cliffs To be continued
Stalkers of the shadows, followers of the dark-ness, Wandered from the meadows, to grow a heart of hard-ness. Talons of the Lictors dulled, The Righteous sword is Sharpest, Staffs of the necromancers, broken by truths harvest. The seventh seed from the first, they removed his verse, The words of his birth, will never be reversed. They search for ways to do them harm, Trading Souls with Jinn’s who read their palm. O` Shay tan do you see this creation is superior, yes he is flesh but surely not Inferior. Your Minions are afraid of them, the ones who wear white robes, Your Generals fear their praying, you won't go near their homes. You get Humans to do the fighting, because the children of light are like lightning. They kill each other, fight wars to gain your land, Our Sisters and our Brothers, fate is in the righteous hands. Beelzebub, Shay tan, Asmodeus I have dominion over thee, You stand no chance of victory, The most highs armour Is shielding me. Talisman seal of scrolls, Jinn Ward level three Encoded cryptic messages woven into Poetry.
If the universe is expanding, this dispersion even accelerating, then farewell to all… AFTER THE STARS HAVE GONE— THE FINAL, SILENT DARK THE LAST CHANCE SALOON (CASINO) Entropy is always the winner in the end, When there’s no more money left to lend; Meanwhile we stabilize, in nature’s way, Rearranging resources temporarily. Prelude Going beyond our very old obsession, so vast, Of how it all began, back in the distant past, But, retaining our search for meaning, from that, We now turn to how will it all end, this and that, Whether becoming collapsed, expended, or flat. Is there is some deep meaning in all that? Yes, for it is there in that future distance, We’ll find, or not, the end of our persistence— Whether or not we are at all forever resistant; Whether all that was, and what was did and done Will be of any long-lasting benefit to anyone, Of what destiny awaits, if there ever was one. Endings are important to us, for what we’re about, Because we believe that how things turn out Implies what the beginnings ultimately meant, Of what, or not, is our place in the firmament. As an ambitious species of nurture and nature, We are now and always pointed toward the future, For, of the three forms of the chimpanzee: The common chimp, the bonobo, and us, we Are the only chimp who went beyond the trees… And, more importantly, even out of Africa, freed, By that exodus, which laid down, indeed, From that experience, the urge and the need To move on, exploring, ever planting another seed. The horizons on Earth sufficed us, as in “time”, For many millennia, but now the horizons’ climes Are broadened, through cosmology and physics, And so they can well inform us of our prospects. The future matters to us, for very basic reasons: We wish to offset our mortality, our pleasin’s, To know if humanity’s works, for every season, Will be remembered, or lost; for nothing, even. The Final, Silent Dark Marches On… Time hurls a million waves of is displacement At us, yet we are still there—the replacements: Time, ever gray with age, hurls its changes, then, ‘Gainst existence’s rock, time and time again, The entropic seas denuding the sands, Yet, energy is preserved via science’s wands. Reminiscence weathered, but could ne’er wither, For, in those mists of time; yesteryear yet appeared. Would the prospect of a “Big Crunch” bring on phobia, Such as an ever more confining claustrophobia? Seems a better thought, somehow, though no picnic, But more pleasing, if the universe(s) were also cyclic, Although then all would still be really crushed And forever lost, gone headlong into the rush. We expect cycles, for all the days and seasons Embedded this in our ancestors, into our reasons, Since, at least, the periodic supplies some rhythm, A pattern—the rolling hills of lives onward driven. As for the cyclic, endless repetitions, they, too, Would seem to revolt more of us than just a few; As, too, perhaps, would some infinite abyss of time, Which, too, grants us neither reason nor rhyme. Does the drama go on forever, or does it end? What do the visions of the future portend? Doesn’t it all have some purpose meant— A goodly end of all of it to us might it present? Is our higher mammal time, certainly, But of such short parentheses within eternity? It’s only a finite time, then, which, too, tends To horrify many, and more, as the universe ends, Such as told by Robert Frost, a name of chill: In heat or in cold, known as fire or ice, still. Should we not believe in God since nothing lasts? Well, if nothing lasts, then of what our purpose past? Is a purpose really required, so constructive, Or would that be really quite restrictive? No realm could really be special or sent, Its becoming being of some specific intent, For, all arrived here of causeless accident. Is there anything wrong with the freedom to be, Anywhere, any how, or any time during eternity? No. Should we rail against the law of entropy, The “heat death” of thermodynamic energy, The second of its final laws, we see, Because it would destroy all of history? Well, there are so many ways for disorder to be Than any one ordered state specifically. Would even a heaven on earth become a misery If it, as it might, contain no more novelty? Must there be an end to our revelry? Can’t we, at least, hibernate eternally? Won’t all matter, too, last eternally? Will Shakespeare’s works live on, paternally? Is this not a Wagnerian struggle for eternity? Science can settle whether a Last Day Is ever going to come this way. Only a decade or so ago, with some consternation, We discovered the universe’s large acceleration, This expansion even increasing, onto some thin disaster, The galaxies getting further away, ever and ever faster… Then, one last snapshot taken, for all to remember. The accelerating expansion of the universe’s rafters Means that the universe will cool even ever faster, So, any conceivable forms of the future’s life prolongers Will have to keep themselves ever more cooler, Think more slowly, and hibernate ever-longer. One day the protons will fade away, Leaving but dark matter, electrons, and positrons. THE WAVES OF THE ANCIENT SWELLS OF TIME’S FORGETTING TIDES SWEPT EVER ON… * As Time, now hoary with age, Hurled forth its ashen change, The charge ever san, pale and colorless, That force born to summon decay, so endless, ‘Gainst Nature’s Universe each and every day; * Time and time again, Time fed all upon, In its bloodless, white and waxen way; But, this everlasting rose would not fade, Its luster even brightening by the day, Ever unsuccumbing to the sickly, peakèd State draining drawn the life away. * Entropic seas yet denude the mountains, Yet, this enduring flower, never-endingly Has cast Deathly Time aside, for now, Ceaselessly somehow thriving on, To that which was the near imperishable, The flame of beauty still inextinguishable, Forever celebrated as immutable, Gaining its seemingly perpetual permanence From the undying love of the glorious truth. Yet, everything was moving apart, cooling off, The big slowdown not really so very far off; Ultimately, even the black holes of late And the lightless planets would dissipate. The primordial soup, once so rich and hearty Was now a thin gruel that couldn’t serve the party. One day, every particle would be moving away From every other particle, so much out the way That they won’t even be able to see one another; Thus, for all intents, motion will have ceased forever. Our spurt of life, followed by an infinite stretch Of dark equilibrium, was but the briefest sketch— A warm and fuzzy stage, so interestingly active, Whose time, relatively, was but infinitesimive. Yet, we were there, in all our glory, For whenever else could we be? In the future, uncounted societies of Overlapping minds accumulate, with love, In island redoubts, their preserved data burning With a vital remembrance, in which, returning, Past is the present and future, they all reliving The data, even animating it and ever altering. Without any new enrichments, the present and future Reprise the past, in this retreat from external nature. Their candles would have been nearly invisible to us, They enduring, by diminishing, so as not to exhaust. They made few new memories, a kind of blind sight, For whatever realities had ever existed out of sight Of their own mental structures were now fractured, And thus not much different from those manufactured. The Penultimate Part of the Final Dark AN ESCALATING ONE WAY TRIP FROM A FLUKE TO OBLIVION The majority of the energy Of the universe is dark today, Although everything else passes Through it in every way. It’s everywhere, Having a component That repels its own state, Which cause the expansion of The universe to much accelerate. DARK ENERGY MATTERS: THE ESCALATION We’re on a one way trip from the quantum fluke, That maximal energy within old Planck’s nook— Heading toward the oblivion of sparse expansion, All that we ever loved and knew going to extinction. We sent message of early warnings to some, In those castles of illusion, yes, many a one, That they would face the decay, not so far away, Of the heavy particles, the “proton pause”, one day. No self-assembled granularity can endure Forever, but must return to the substructure, And, so, the lives must all transition, it seems, From heavier to much lighter regimes… Although this, too, would not be permanent, All destined to be swallowed by the firmament. We have often asked why some space exists, Why it permits the countless to briefly persist On Mother Earth nourished under Father Sky— All of those finite sparks that light and die. There were those who endlessly debated, Whether to live in their virtuals unabated, Or press forwards and outwards, of delirium, To seek new localities in the mysterium; But, the pauses of the heavy particles continued, And so there was nowhere to go for the retinued. It was much simpler once, in those days of old, When we thought that universes didn’t go cold, But that they expanded and collapsed, Still destroying all, yet ever giving more to last. And, well before that, once upon a storied time, We simply made it all up, with tales and rhyme, In place of any physical observations, Or of all our revealing experimentations. … The past was now a reef of dead accumulations, A graveyard of various useless informations, Which, despite their splendorous beauty, Could not provide a novel futurity. … The last one of us, born of the sparkness, Kept a window to the outer darkness… S/he looked out, from a once brightly Colored and sparkling inner reality, Into the dark abyss… There was nothing out there, All being so lonely and bare— No more singing of life’s song; For now everything was gone. The Final Epilog Our fruits are of a universal seed, Are yet another yield of All possibility treed, For siblings elsewhere in the entropic sea Are also born of such probability. There could not have been any special time, One that was privileged over any other chime, Nor any special place, nor any specific form Arising out of the necessarily causeless realm. Even those locally specific dates and places past Of the events’ novel memoirs could not ever last, They being writ on water, with no meaning vast, Disappearing in significance so very fast, Since it’s only the universals that last. …The protons were all gone from the show, Having decayed so very long ago, Into positrons—ever canceling the electrons, But emitting the fleeing light of photons; There being, of course, an equal amount Of protons and electrons in the count; And, of course, along with all the protons, Went all of the atomic elements, the end, All of their forms becoming myth and legend— As they were still dreamt in night dreams, Those forms that we once had, so it seemed. S/he, as many of a luckily adaptable kind, Had long since lightened and lighted the mind With the dwindling electrons, and precious photons— That beginning light of ancient times, growing wan. Ours had been the only line in the uni-verse, One that had become sentient, with proto-man first, The rest of the cosmos being but a colossal waste, A foreboding, harsh, and very dangerous place. S/he was now the only one left, Having outlived all of the rest. The universe was near crumbling away, Having run out of space, time, and all its sway. S/he was dispersing, melting, into the vacuum, lone, But, s/he held on for another thousand years, alone; And, then, s/he, too, was gone, Being the last of the hominid’s song, Of all that was sapient: the Magnificat, The composition of Earth’s sweet plot, The greatest symphony that was ever sown, Now having faded into the unknown. …From near nothingness our forms became, And into the same must go our remains. If the unknown be such, ‘though it’s otherwise; But, still, if it’s yet called unknown, then the reply Is still, for sure, that we’re free to be, anywise. If you’ve shed a tear, reading here, For both the far, and the near and dear, It won’t make their graves green again; But, it’s possible that life could begin again… Be of Good Cheer--the sullen Month will die, And a young Moon requite us by and by: Look how the Old one meagre, bent, and wan With Age and Fast, is fainting from the Sky! (A Fitzgerald quatrain that’s not in his Rubaiyat) THE ETERNAL RETURN Behind the Veil, being that which ev’r thrives, The Eternal Cycle has ever been alive. Some time it needed to learn Everything for, And now well knows how these bubbles to pour, Of existence in some meant universe, Those that wrote your poem and mine, every verse. So, as thus, thou lives on yester’s credit line, In nowhere’s midst—now in this life of thine, As of its bowl our cup of brew was mixed Into this state of being that’s called “mine”. Yet worry you that this Cosmos is the last, That the likes of us will become the past, Space wondering whither whence we went After the last of us her life has spent? The Eternal Saki has thus formed Trillions of baubles like ours, and will form, Forevermore—the comings and passings Of which it ever emits to immerse In those universal bubbles blown and burst. So, fear not that a debit close your Account and mine, knowing the like no more; The Eternal Cycle from its pot has pour’d Zillions of bubbles like ours, and will pour. When You and I behind the cloak are past, But the long while the next universe shall last, Which of one’s approach and departure it grasps As might the sea’s self heed a pebble-cast. Indications of a MultiVerse: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2010/03/100322-dark-flow-matter-outside-universe-multiverse/
Lol it's a philosophy book to be taken with a grain of salt not a Bible. But no Im doing a seperate book purely for poems, but more in the form of poetory, Old english styled exerpts and also some Haikus and hokus. All of the ones ive posted on Sciforums I did off the top of my head while posting on the forums. I do freestyle poetry and can knock out about 12 poems per hour. but obviously they are lay pieces of workm and sometimes no better than a nursary rhyme lol. The stuff that's going into my books will be streamlined and edited and I will add punchlines and more word play and fuse some nice one liners I have in my scrap books i carry with me. Peace. Peace.
That last was nice, one of my favorites of yours so far even. but they lack the most high and usualy show the more void side of nature tbh. Peace
You are a fast reader (of that epic). Expansion would be a one-way dead end street, but I did provide an escape at the end.
