Posts Tagged ‘author



01
Apr
15

Ultimate Gift


cp  tree of wisdom

Naykd, I lay awake with my thoughts;
Mind-farts, from anguish to joy, brought;
Far too often, not of matters sought
But, facing my reality, all I’ve got.

Relief, derived by expelling the curse;
Expunged to avoid a mental burst;
Once experienced, knowing its worst;
Alternative, is the last ride in a hearse.

Joy and good wishes to all those whom can,
That is; putting thoughts of randomness to pen;
Whether words of wisdom or condition to defend;
It’s the ultimate gift to they whom can’t; depend.

06
Feb
15

thoughts de jour


 

TREE

Let all-seeing blind providence lead me down the path where there is no road.

Beyond fates unknowing misgivings, let chance guide the way, unforgiving.

Hope borne from faith of belief renders consequence without consequence.

Challenge be the metaphor for insight not yet fathomed, though fully understood.

Credence established is vanity’s beguiling when wisdom’s influence diminishes.

After posting `thought’s de jour’ I realized these phrases, call them what you will, came to me rather spontaneously, with little true, conscious thought. This made me wonder if it might be an anagram of sorts, leading to a greater message. (Stop laughing here)

So taking the first word of each phrase, form a sentence and see if there is any meaning to be taken:

Let Beyond Hope, Challenge Credence

Beyond Hope, Let Credence Challenge

Let Credence Challenge Beyond Hope

Replacing Credence with its meaning:

Let credibility/belief Challenge Beyond Hope

 

Who knows, just a thought – dejour<?>

copyright naykdpoet.com 2015

 

08
Jan
15

Memories Pleasure


Michael Illing2

With mixed emotions I view a photo from the past
That tells the story of a love deep, yet did not last;
Only with time passing to weigh the full cost
Does one fully realize, the value lost;
So rare are opportunity to find love true,
With one whom shares equally with you;
Precious are these memories left to treasure
Yet, they garner a mixed sense of pleasure.

27
Dec
14

Compositions’ Reality


composition

05
Nov
14

Poetry


 

 

The art of poetry is to conjure thoughts profound
At times achieved by merely the use of just one word
But in the end it’s to its readers to astound
Or to render it all – utterly absurd

Poetry may be reflective or devil-may-care
But for certain it comes from a mind aware
The tool of its conveyance need not be exact
For it is the essence of message that be sought – to extract

Hence, should one encounter a poem or two
Be certain, this to do:

             Enter with an open mind
               Read with nay a pre-intent
                     Look within its words to find
                           Its essence – its chance to invent

05
Nov
14

A Fish Named `Dawn’


 

 

DAWN

Falling into a swamp I forgot was there
My eyes could see, but neither mouth nor nose could breathe for air
As my skin turned blue, my mind grew increasingly faint
Next I knew, I was in a place standing next to a glowing saint

He extended a hand as in a gesture to greet
Strange thing was I was now, standing on my own two feet
Bewildered and perplexed by, in what place I was
His comforting smiling face wordlessly said, `Don’t give it a fuss’

Calmly, still hand in hand, we walked
Though nothing was said, he began to talk
He spoke of this place, this land made by the gods
It was purposely intended for unabashed sods

It was the simple mention of this class of soul
I knew my life had succumb to its ultimate toll
Surprisingly enough I felt much at ease
Especially at the mention, I could have anything I please

As we wondered through hill and dale
My saintly friend continued his telepathic tale
My mind grew full, with what he had to say
And funny thing was, I seem to know it all anyway

We finally arrived at a sweet town that appeared quaint
Flowers seemed to sing and the buildings of rainbow paint
Many people cheerfully frolicked about the street
Gracefully bowing when we had chance to meet

Then in a flash I realized my guardian saint was gone
And there in his place was a man introduced as `Dawn
I asked Dawn, `what is this place?’
To which he replied, `It was my mental space’.

This perplexing response to what I had asked
Put my brain in a boil with this deciphering task
It was then I began to realize what he meant
This was all my imagination – a mind’s invent

So, if it were that this was all in my mind’s creation
I likely could not have left my original situation
Having the sense that I had resolved this unusual puzzle
A strange floating fish appeared and with my nose, began to snuggle

Not wanting for this slimy creature to be sitting on my face
With hands flailing in the air I gave it chase
Then with a flash I suddenly realized
The enchanted place was gone and the water swamp lay open to my eyes

My mind regaining hold of what was in fact now real
My hands though chilled, something at them, I could feel
And there it was I saw, a trout of proportionate size
Starring back up at me with seemingly, knowing eyes

Abruptly sitting up feeling all wet and damped to the bone
My floating friend did not faultier nor want to leave me alone
My mind still foggy by what had just transpired
When the sun reflected on my speckled friend, I couldn’t help but admire

For through the translucent waters I was uncertain if to believe
Whether my eyes were still affecting what I could see
Especially after all that appeared to have gone on
There before me was a fish upon whose flesh appeared to be written: `Dawn

05
Nov
14

Curiosity’s Bubble


Each day becomes a challenge to live
For it gives rise to search for truth to its purpose
The intellect of mind source to invent many an idea
Yet the proof to its confirming truth ever elusive

Like a worm bait at the end of a fishing line
Taunted to the awareness of its existence
Yet beyond the grasp of its tangible touch
Eluding the concreteness to its reality

Constant is the question of when comes the relief
Derived by the spewing forth of all there is to know
Allowing for the ultimate deflation of curiosity’s bubble
Creating opportunity for energies spent to new direction

30
Oct
14

Who Gives A `Fuck’ Anymore?


As with genres as `docu-fiction’ or `monkumentary’, the following is authored in the same vein:

Who Gives A `Fuck’ Anymore?

A space meandering, life-giving, ball of configured atomic-elements, mysteriously infused with conscious-energy, though equally shared among its inhabitants; its degrees of intellectualized representation is definably and, disturbingly evident. This current epoch’s recorded history serving as source-proof to this expression.

The world seems targeted toward a destiny that belies even the bravest of us to stand against; the prodigious, globalist tyranny that blazons this 21st century existence. The fomentation of those whom came before us in the belief; the foresight to the future of human-kind was theirs to behold. But, times committed passage finds the antithesis; contemporary humanity, succumbing to a malaise surpassing the vilest, cruellest, deadliest of viral bacterium: Greed!

Throughout earthly organism that is humanity; greed for ownership, translated to power of position, spreads like a metastasized cancer. Inflicting its sufferance upon the majority; whom have been strategically, economically, brutalized into a permanent, state of subjugation and submission. A pervasive state; maliciously designed to lobotomize intellectual conjuring or real manifestation, in any form, of countering-forces. The ingenious tools to do so include mindless, distracting entertainment genres, legislated civil obedience replete with brutal, armed-enforcement and penalty-mechanisms and, the anchoring shackles of relentless, financial indebtedness.

Dire though this time depicts, it need not be reason to lament the future for human-kind. Intrinsic to the nature of all living entities is the facet: survival. The intuitive mental and physical strength to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles; like the Phoenix, to rise from the ashes, triumphant and determinately driven to reaffirm it presence.

The question remains for humanity: can it do so without repeating the ills of its historic past or, ask itself: `Who gives a ‘Fuck’ any more?’?

21
Oct
14

Video Book of Reflective Poetry


bookcover1

A video book: Reflective Poetry

Utilizing the various media tools to our disposal, here is a further attempt to get a volume of writing out, exposed to the whims of those whom come upon it; a consolidation of works from the last few months:

11
Oct
14

Black n White Photo Exhibit


The following is a series of photographs taken from variety of locations from  New Orleans’ Mardi Gras, Cuba, to various, interesting locations in my own neighborhood as well, a few abstracts created from original photos:

 

Alpine's Slope

 

battlefield

 

battlefield2

 

12

 

beard

 

bigbangtheory

BW12

 

boathouse bw

 

boy

 

cigar man

 

15.jpg

 

cohurch doorhandle

 

 

cohurch steple

 

conflict

 

cp  tree of wisdom

 

cowboy

 


cuban wait

 

3D

 

feather suspended

feather

 

feather2

 

feather3

 

feathermask

 

 

floral a

 

floral b

 

floral c

 

floral d floral e

 


gmwall1

 

gmwall3

 

 


handbw

 

hands

 

horsehead

 

hostal

 

infusion perspective

 

infusion

 

LAMBS HEAD

 

littleboy

 

maniquine

 

mike

 

mirror mirror

 

motorbikes2

 

motorbikes3

 

motorbikes4

 

motorbikes5

 

motorbikes6

 

motornbikes

 

neworleans mask

 

night-rose

 

paper boy

 

pic picture

 

q alien

 

quartz alienbw

 

reflections muse

 

ricardo

 

RUNNING FINISH

 

star tattoo

 

STARE WELL

 

Sun Hat

 

thought

 

 

 

 

TREE

 


TREEbw

 

trillium1

trillium2

 

trillium3

 

trillium4

 

trillium5

 

trillium6

 

wave

 

 




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