I wished to prosper
but life had other plans
it handed me some stuff
and told me to begin
The Immortal Wize
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life
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COMMENTS
mrmelody7 says: For some reason this quickly took me way back to 1961 a song by Gene Mcdaniel remember it so vivid 100 lbs of clay |
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Leepaul says: Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails! |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY The Immortal Wize
In The Treeit's sharks in the water it's wolves on the prowl it's bears in the woods in the tree there's an owl it's snakes in the thick it's spiders in the corners it's rats on the roof in the tree there's an owl there's trash on the street there's bodies underneath it's a full moon tonight in the tree there's an owl a drop of rain fell from a cloud a cat in the grass set to pounce on a bird that just touched down in the tree there's an owl  |
Bishop Takes Queenthe King sits blind upon his throne secret shadows roam the checkered floor the Queen demands open space she found a thrill beyond the royal place behind the ranks of pawns minding the gate the Rooks absorb the battle front she slips away slides along the angles to where the bishop sits in wait he rules the squares with faithful moves yet to the King his vows prove to be untrue he whispers tactics in her pierced ear a silent courtship while the court is near she makes her move across the board to take his side straight line logic can no longer hide the suspicious Knight is ready to ride they plot in the square cloaked in sacred shade a treasonous crusade the King stands still then takes one cautious step at a time unaware of how the outer borders align by the time it takes to check his mate the Queen and Bishop has sealed his fate the throne is now a empty chair tension fades into the past the pieces are gone the board is bare the scandal is published through out the square abo... |
Be Wellit's no longer common to care finding genuine selfless concern from others is uncommon no one has to pretend like they care anymore and for those in need of care it's like hearing voices "I don't care about you, I don't care about your life, I don't care about your problems, I don't care about your struggle, I don't care about what you been through or what you're going through" appreciate those who truly support you who value your happiness deep honest connections are scarce emotional loneliness and the the feeling of emotional emptiness is widely felt self care is vitally important the message is clear " take care of yourself" no one cares sounds harsh but truth is supposed to hurt enough to wake us up to care enough |
No Wonderwe can call it this we can call it that and still know what it is to label things is mundane especially when the label already sticks repetition is affirmative calling into question things we do not want to appear energy is constantly moving it has no final destination why does the same thing keep happening, why does the same thing keep happening, why does the same thing keep happening is it me or does the same thing keep happening what do we call it why do we call it what we call it why do we call it ? is it something we want to appear is it something we want to see why do we summons it why do we give it energy why do we continue to feed the beast its favorite snack to feast on if all we want is peace |
TIW 07-06-2026When life gives you spotted bananas make banana bread. Enjoy the over ripeness regardless of the blemishes. |
If I Had To Say Goodbye If I had to tell the world and I didn't have anything would you think I didn't If I had nothing at all to perhaps the words spent a trying to convey what silence knew maybe the world never ask for a farewell naybe if I were honest It's a breath of fresh air to be leaving hell but maybe those aren't the right |
BackdropYou don't need to know how to tell time but you need to know how to read the sign on the clock Some eyes look straight through the glass Others watch the change in the reflection it cast
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The Pit
smokeout in the backyard someone said orange juice someone said sugar someone said marinade someone said that's not enough someone said mustard someone said Worcestershire someone said the fire is too high someone said brush it someone said let it sit someone said spray someone said they're done someone said it's about time someone said my stomach someone runs up... |
Where The Concrete Sighsbefore the word before breath is lent before the straight and narrow line became the opposite of sin we stood upon the boundary of the heaven sent the gate is thin the air is split dividing ancient myth from modern wit sifting wheat among the tears getting a whiff of incense caught inside the city squares the fracture of life is where history lies and truth lies nowhere but at the center of believe lies the truth about deception truth cannot mimic a lie it leaves no tracks it bends no lines IT IS WRITTEN is written on the sign yet human hands rewrite the grand design in sidewalk chalk where children play outside we walk the stroll and scroll on our phone as if no one's inside yet we are home most of the time stepping to the rhythm of sirens and chimes divided and distracted keeping pace with lawless times while influential influencers from hell get paid in full to promote crime rapping and tapping into yung minds to go out and cross lines gon' windup in a cell gon' end up spend... |
To Be Continued...before the line could ever run before the square was planned a single dot of hidden fire lay sleeping in the sand a seed without a root a star too far to see a punctuation of life's punctuation "to be" occupying no space at all making no outward sound holding the weight of the universe before shapes were found the page is blank until a dot touches down one millisecond before an idea is born a point a punctuation of mortal life a punctuation "to be" below a silent shield against the coming strife a secrets point reveals before the tongue can form a heaven or a hell upon the parchment fate where willed ink is but blood of thought unspilled a pair of dots a cosmic paradox the definition of anticipation to break the silent genesis turns a symbol of death into a symbol of birth behind a frozen period no life can breathe at all it locks the ink in iron chains shuts the open door and leaves one pacing back and forth across the barren floor the entry the exit the a mountain pe... |