Poems About Love
The Binary Creation
In the beginning, was the Word;
God, alone; when all was begun;
creation and Creator were blurred;
as both morphed together as One.
The Word was a thought from a mind;
destined to become a binary creation;
all thoughts, were, in heaven, confined;
Love was God’s
Stuff
Why is it I want what others have;
no matter what it might be?
Greed requires some sort of salve;
that all might forever be free.
Nothing, earned or given, will be enough;
tho what I have is sufficient;
our lives can’t be measured, by our stuff;
or
Crop Of Fools
The Master planted life’s seed in reality;
love was to become its principal role;
at the speed of light, it became a duality;
for, the seed was a clone of his soul.
The Master had planted such a seed, before;
though it never met with expectations;
Storms Of The Soul
The storm rages, crashing the rocks;
its waves, flooding the beaches;
inundating ships, moored to their docks;
beyond the anchor’s reaches.
The storm’s intensity, builds to crescendos;
anger, granting it, increasing power;
much like the anger from life’s innuendos;
growing in strength, each
Life In The Matrix
We live in two worlds, simultaneously;
although, we are totally unaware;
two lives blend together, spontaneously
and no one knows the other is there.
In a matrix known as consciousness;
thoughts created a separate home;
earth was the kingdom of godlessness;
where evil sat on his
The Master’s Love
Most of us puzzle over the meaning of life;
some think it’s about music and laughter;
others think it’s finding a husband or wife;
and living happily ever after.
But what do we do, when the music’s over;
when our physical bodies go
The Puzzle Called Truth
Truth is another name for reality;
a puzzle of unlimited dimension;
life is a world of obscure duality;
lies: distortion of Master’s intention.
Truth; a kingdom of overlapping faces;
actually, two puzzles in one;
illusions were copies in other places;
and, is how, the puzzle
The Logic Of Death
One topic, from all, gets the same reaction;
from what we surmise is the end of life;
regarded without even a trace of satisfaction,
is the death of a friend, husband, or wife.
All live in a fragment of the maze of life;
thinking that death
