What is the only true reality when it comes to the value of every person? (1)

rainny morning in parkevery investor knows that the value of anything is not the value we pay for at the moment we transact. it is another value we see in the unseen, a future value of the investment and this involves the crucial word “Growth“. without seeing a potential for growth we will not bother to invest. every human is born as an infant and the potential for growth is intrinsic in the person. it is an assumption that the person will grow in physical and other realms which will determine the worth of the person. when the investment/infant does not grow the potential worth is not materialized. what is the true reality when it comes to the value of every person? the value is always at the level where the individual has grown into. can a person not grow? of course anyone can choose to not grow to the potential each person is designed to become. stagnation or stuntedness are personal choices. i am not talking about physical aspect. there are many realms in our lives. we can find positive potentials in many realms. the key word is “GROW”. Just move on and you will not stagnate. i look forward to seeing many bountiful harvests for those who believe so that you may be a joyous blessing to others too.  (to be continued)

some words of wisdom to ponder on:
Genesis 2:9 The Lord God made all sorts of trees grow up from the ground—trees that were beautiful and that produced delicious fruit.
Genesis 26:13 He became a very rich man, and his wealth continued to grow.
Proverbs 13:11 Wealth from get-rich-quick schemes quickly disappears; wealth from hard work grows over time.
Psalm 90:12 Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.
Psalm 92:12 But the godly will flourish like palm trees and grow strong like the cedars of Lebanon.


to love: this is a song I will not sing to you

a song of winterspring song


this is a song i would not sing
because the song has run away in sync
with other days i shall not bring

this is a song i should not sing
because its lyrics have bloomed into an early spring
here here i call in the midst of freezing
into a laboriously sculptured thing

there there replies the happy song to dare
unyielding crusty earth to break forth today
to quench upon the outpouring heavenly dew
that refuses my lingering sad adieu

much as i want to tell you about a cold alienating bland ordinary winter
my song rebels and sings of a fiery bonding love in many resplendent splendor
instead of decrepitating into ashy ice
my hibernating heart wakes to early rise
by your twin spade of starry eyes

no i will not say goodbye you say
no you will not say goodbye i say
yet this is a song i will not sing to you
the song is rewriting its lyrics anew

as i go
you grow

favorite poem rambling song to end 2017

summer snow

2017 Favorites.
they call to compose an official song
to cherish entrance of wintry solace long
why they never know it’s an impossible task
anyone with brain would always ask

how long is winter to be long
haha you must be joking all along
how wide is winter to be white
is he the old guy with snow whiskers uphill hiding a wife

she’s beautiful so so much
to be goggled at by many eyes
old guy loves wife so so much
he vows she’ll not be seen by any more disrespectful, aye

you want to hide Winter with her light
brilliantly glistening deep at night
or reverse her silky white waterfall
Nay, even Spring won’t do impossible chore

he cannot remember now
how she grows her pure white snow
when his matching whiskers start their show
It seems just yesterday they were both stage-fright-voices
so simple in love in spring in songs in dances

Rumors say of late a celestial laser show persistently brews on them
with dazed drooping eyes he now lisps new sounds
decked in red digital coat and virtual hat and geeky boots and all
i give you the official winter solace rap
nothing more nothing less on
eight foot long
as my elementary AI sleigh tap
with laser beaming Reindeer Day
begin our show show show
starring L E D Pivot Stel and Winter Wanda La La La

Note: Towards the end of 2017 I switch to write funny/dramatic/satirical experimental poems telling a story. Is it a new direction? Or is it just an intermission? I would like to think it’s both.

cheeky rain cheeky poem

rain drops 2017 he wants to share the beautiful newly painted white pearl-glo wall
all ready for Christmas and the New Year toll
instead his phone chooses to display a mind
dropping rain drops on his file
why it’s not what I want to send to my love he cries
no it isn’t but this is far better, the phone replies
what, even rain drops on my window pane cliche?
long ago i saw a drama performed on stage called rain drops keep falling on my head
i didn’t understand why my ma sang in swimsuit with pa dressed in sailor uniform pouring buckets of cold water on her head. no, it’s mixed up with i’m singing in the rain with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. not that you nit, she says, I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out Of My Hair.
Whatever you say. he says. She says, rain rain go away.
since i miss the moment of capturing the beautiful white glistening in the rain i just have to send this picture from a mysterious phone and say i love you rain don’t go today. last word he says. rain rain go away last word she says.
cheeky Cheeky rain

sometimes we just have to go

Sometimes we just not go the Serene way. a way ahead
sometimes we just have to go
often both of us could know
it’s a season to let go
behold all love must forego
for a way ahead
a watershed
not a tear is heard
nor a sound is smeared
because we wear mascara
to celebrate the last gala
dancing to end our tango
no pretense
not perchance
lest we should cross each other’s way
lo beyond and faraway
still in pain
all in vain
deep in love
that won’t just go

a reluctant winter transformation song

a reluctant Transformation song.
mirror mirror on the wall
fifty years have passed and i don’t even know
with wife always kneading sour dough
i go slow better lie low gentle as a doe
shoveling home this elusive summer snow

see how she could throw the dough
like a magical boomerang discus raw
swinging back and fro blow by blow
at some imaginary crow
precisely striking each moon-lit foe

mirror mirror on the wall
why i never know
that ages for some only stall and not grow
like normal tidal ebb and flow
winter spring with summer fall