Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad, We proudly present: Blind Sketches

by | Apr 2, 2019 | Poem, Poetry, Quotes and Idioms

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad, We proudly present: Blind Sketches

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad By: Jon Stronstad

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad Everything on this page is meant to be shared, with everyone who might find something worth finding .

 

J J Stronstad Blind Sketches chatsifieds

Visit My facebook page “Blind Sketches” by tap on the picture.

 

Poetries by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad There are thousands of words for every word

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad For a lifetime of servitude

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad When someone says, “People won’t understand

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad It was in those nights, when we knew there was nothing else

 

Thank you for your time.

Jon Stronstad

 

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Jon Stronstad

Community Contributor (USA)

alt= Jon Stronstad is a talented, smart America catalytical novelist and writer. He loves to share his knowledge and wisdom with others.

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You Can Fly In Your Dreams If You Want To.

J.J. Stronstad

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Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad, We proudly present: Blind Sketches

 

 

What made Gandhi a Mahatma Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by J J Stronstad Blind Sketches

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad — Blind Sketches

 

There are thousands of words for every word.

I struggle with the choices, so many phrases change color in different lights, so many words are owned by tyrants and hatred, so many too are claimed for god, whichever, you choose. A single meaning would be robbery, so take a dictionary to my writings, find layered sentences on towering pages, find me there, reading you from the pages, striking a lamp to the darkness and holding out my hand.

Time is an endless map in space, occuring simultaneously and infinitely. I’m right here, and right now you’re here with me. This is a place in time, it warms my heart to share it with you.

If you stand in the darkness of your time, in the broken places where souls hurt, you’ll see the part of you that glows, that’s the part of you that has been and always will be, eternally after your final breath and since the first spark of anything; that’s You. You chose your place in time, this life, the eyes reading these words, the tongue you speak with, even amongst all the turbulence and unsung tragedies of your era. Why?

The answer to every impossible question is behind your eyes, beneath your touch, flavorless, unscented, and perfectly silent; in the chaotic nothingness of everything, where You have always remained.

You can visit this place in time, over the years, I’ll always be glad you came, it’s nice here, even nicer when you arrive. Find You and light up the darkness. I’ll always be around, in the flicker of candles resisting the wind, and in the perfect silence; with You. As others join us here, coming and going in their times, welcome them warmly and share what you have; we all shine brightest together.”

“For a lifetime of servitude we purchase constricted perceptions of partitioned knowledge. While our eyes are filled endlessly, flooded with ignored relevance, we seek instead registered acceptance; decades of groveling to stone heels, trumpeting gratitude and awe at the supremacy of our ranking master. The current raging around you, rends you to your course as you endeavor the labor of breaths; treading in deeper demands, carrying your master in both of your hands. The earthy bed is but inches below your drowning feet, and hearty enough plenty to support the charge of a decided stand.

Knowledge is not a possession, and no authority may revoke it succeedingly; the exponentially accelerating lucidity of outstretching comprehension can only be surrendered willfully. Toe at those foundations, settle your feet, it’s time to stand. “

 

What made Gandhi a Mahatma Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by J J Stronstad Blind Sketches

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad — Blind Sketches

 

For a lifetime of servitude we purchase constricted perceptions of partitioned knowledge. While our eyes are filled endlessly, flooded with ignored relevance, we seek instead registered acceptance; decades of groveling to stone heels, trumpeting gratitude and awe at the supremacy of our ranking master. The current raging around you, rends you to your course as you endeavor the labor of breaths; treading in deeper demands, carrying your master in both of your hands. The earthy bed is but inches below your drowning feet, and hearty enough plenty to support the charge of a decided stand.

Knowledge is not a possession, and no authority may revoke it succeedingly; the exponentially accelerating lucidity of outstretching comprehension can only be surrendered willfully. Toe at those foundations, settle your feet, it’s time to stand. “

 

What made Gandhi a Mahatma Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by J J Stronstad Blind Sketches

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad — Blind Sketches

 

When someone says, “People won’t understand… You have to make it easier…” and other such shit, be sad for their past surrenders, and satisfied as your works can now fill an old void. They may be here under false pretenses, believing they are alive to Get from this place, as though a physical collection of anything in the possession of an impermanent presence can be somehow transferred to the essence surviving these fleshy garments.

Life is our expression, just one complicated smile in the stretching reaches of our shared infinity; wear it well, you still Are when you take it off. Don’t let your fancy costume confuse you, if something lives, you’ve worn it too, and will again. Each cycle of life may just be an echo of your time within it, or rather the permanent soul you claim is simply mine as well, and in fact resides in every one of myour expressions of life. You wrote this for me to read. “

 

What made Gandhi a Mahatma Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad

 

Unsung Poetry by J J Stronstad

Unsung Poetry by Jon Stronstad — Blind Sketches

 

It was in those nights, when we knew there was nothing else

The thought of each other, our simple home
The place where no one else knew us, we were free to Be
My heaven was here, your sanctuary in my arms

The nook made to fit you, my broad chest and soft embrace

The quiet cuddle, the heavy tears
How happy we were when we could keep it, how hard it hurt when you said no

Your denial, the ledge I fall from
The words you say, salt in my broken heart
Nowhere for me to hide, you can always find your way into my mind

You are so far from me, my heart is wherever you are
My new complete soul, ripped in half
My words, the culprit and the beggar

Love beats me, memories stab me
Cocktails of guilt and regret, I need your ears
My beautiful lost soul, the one who can hold me steady
The reason to live after a lifetime of aimlessness, lost

Where you left me, no reason to move on
Barely able to see you, as you keep walking further away
Melting into the ground, wishing I could vanish
The angels and the saints, no cure for a broken soul

My own doing, my own misery
The tragedy of a self inflicted wound, I broke our heart
I won’t move on, you can always find me here
You won’t change your mind, its my hope that will kill me “

 


 

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