For So is Life

When friendships ceases to display benevolence unending Take heed to mind your own affairs and heal all that needs mending Where mortal mirth yet still unbirthed cries out for its own kind And keeps itself away from fiends that knows not its own mind So says the words of knowledge lived among the wise of life Who heap not doom on days to live nor wallow in pointless strife Cast not these words far from your thoughts nor give them shove to go But place them close to every moment you wish your life to hold For so is lived the best of life, for so is life complete And so ends those who shirk the chance and thus their lives deplete

Jade Jaspers

Is Then I Remember

It is then I remember the carefree days of gentility 
Where the motion of winds were not 
And the cool of the day challenged the night
Shining it's light brighter than all the stars
Into the face of my memory 
Where no one has truthfully been as I know
Nor no one has seen as I've saw to describe it's ambitions
Realizing that as humanity kept time to it's schedule
Imagination lived on in wishes and prayers
Reaching ever outward to a far distant land
Where it remained untainted by obligations
Unharmed by loathsome jealousies or hostility 
Providing for itself the sanctity of life
Well nourished and well kept  
So that it may exist in all its innocence alive and loved
For the sake of no other reason than for it to thrive
In all of the places where it is welcomed unthreatened.  

It is then I remember the magic of appreciation
The adoration of friendship, the godliness of living everyday given me
Without judgement or condemnations for wanting the explorations of life
Where no other journey is forthcoming in a predetermined world
Set in its own ways by its own values
Where the color of an autumn leaf is blended into all color
Rather than the individual shade, shape and distinctive decoration given it
By the many modes of the atmospheres where they gather on trees
Where patterns of gradual change are constantly creating the newness of another day
Into the eons of realities to be individually viewed by the partakers of its viewing

It is then that I remember the visions in sleep where once I am free
To be transported to where I can see unaided by human or hand
Aloft in the winds gently welcoming me into their presence
Unencumbered by depravities or realities, lighter than feather or molecule
Standing atop clouds in both day and night amidst stars and sun, sky and all else
Neither wearied or burdened by earths weight or expectations
Visually absorbed into the clearness about me as I move through corridors of extensional heavens
Lingering in the ethos where time is not, neither is concept of times nothingness
Alleviating the mindless toils of to (day, morrow, night)
Enlightening the senses of innocence bellowing weightlessness
Neither forced nor motioned among atmospheres of ever after and beyond

It is then I remember being alive full of life, eager and well rested
Ready for the moments that once again bring me into the realms of all others
Who depend on their need of me and I of them as we journey through times gates
Accepting our earthened lives as our greatest joys, our endless beings
Where living is the language both spoken and unspoken between understanding and appreciation
Knowing the moment is now where we are and leading to where we will be
Together or apart always aware of each the other beyond measure in our blending
Of thoughts, words and deeds so that we become whom we are in this our now living
Able to append as we are to each other so as to never short change our oneness
Relying on dedications and ambition to carry us ever onward to destinations
To keep well our own longings for the divinities inside us to ward away all harm
That would otherwise divide us from ourselves in solidarity as our self in individuality

It is then I remember blades of grass in their infinite sovereignty
Maintaining each their own existence, cool beneath feet on hot summer days
Holding the earth in its gentle grasp adorning both mountains and plains
Teaming with life under its shade springing with flora where wanted
To feed even the smallest creature hidden in its jungles of wilderness far from eyes view
Offering the visitations of many a being to pay it no mind in their travels hither and forth
As it bends beneath their weight then stretches out again to become once again itself
Frozen by winters waters while hovering close to its roots still maintaining its cycle of life
Older than passing clouds, stronger than ripping winds, cleansing the filth from the air
Enduring forever, covering the earth, keeping it alive as itself a single blade
Maintaining its individuality among all others conjoined with its likeness in all others
Reproducing generations for generations becoming and bequeathing itself to become anew

It is then I remember water in all it's various stages from solidity to fluidity
Evaporating and replenishing itself and all it touches, from mountains to seas
Through both fields and valleys, watering flower and tree, washing away heat
Ebbing and flowing, bringer of life to all people regardless their lot among the living
The carrier of human souls through every tongue and nation
Passing through our existence, ferrying imaginations in countless story and rhyming legend
In need of care as much as our lives so like us it may continue to gift universe and condition
With it's mystery of creation without contamination pursued for its values more than gold
Uncomplicated in its simplicity or its patience to shape our future,
It's purity our saving strength, it's weakness thereof our destruction
Pouring in streams, waving through lakes to channel through rivers
No living thing its enemy, all living things in its demand, awaiting its arrival

It is then I remember humanity of which I am a part
My breaths and steps along it my deliberate longing to live among it
In my own way, as everyone else, in my birthright given me by creation
As in tears so with laughter. as in anger so with my stoic nature
Through my insomnia to my longing to slumber among the softness of my own femininity
Where the gentleness of my thoughts are the truths that holds me softly
Cradling me in hours of restful wonders where no harm or hurt exists
No strength nor logic needed save only to relax and linger in the supple nature of my mind

Jade Jaspers

To the Momentous

Little notes tinkling across piano keys Luring my mind to be at ease Allowing the plausible probabilities To be what they are for the now Little glimpses adrift in my mind In search of what I would want Dressed up or dressed down Illuminating the undefinable mind

Casual glances across a room
Conversations in hushed tones

In pursuit of a moment now past
Or soon to become a day lived

Not a fickle fad or fate
Only a visionary's vision make
A lifetime of memories forsake
Mingle among the shores of the living

Calm now my restless soul
Expose your possible to the plausible
Focus and become the ink
Expanding beyond these realms

Mindful of all quirks and qualms
Lend yourself to the momentous
Indulge all your wanton needs
Until you've reached where you want to be


Jade Jaspers

Little Words

Lilting Silky Eternity Reality Pondering Wondering Considering Inspire me

Gathering

Whispering
History
Prophecy
Reminiscing
Projecting
Momentarily
Creativity

Lucidity
Sensibly
Fluidity
Consciously
Diligently
Meticulously
Lavishly

Completely

Jade Jaspers

Where I Walk With You

In the journals of my mind where I walk with you All is calm, all is well, all is as we choose. No tears to hold, no fears to know, no plight to struggle through In the gardens of my existence where I walk with you. A step we make, a waltz we dance, our smiles of mirth are true Keeping narratives in my mind where I talk with you. No adversary to oppose, no circumstance to bruise The gift of opportunity to share a walk with you. Our minds are freed to rummage life in search of all our dues To fill our time as we embark on the walk I walk with you. No need to falsify ambitions or feelings misconstrue In the woven threads of being where I walk with you. Jade Jaspers

A Heart of Gold

I've heard it said millions of times you have a heart of gold
So be prepared for it to break, others always told But I'm indifferent to their words, reject their philosophies Because a heart of gold can live as it wants to be Unlike steel or platinum or tin of cans and foils A heart of gold is soft to touch, reshape and remold Its pliable, reliable, untarnished by life's harshness And always finds the shape it's in to be a daily presence To offer to itself a love no hand or man can take And manages the comforting to heal and mend mistakes That others forge upon its being without a second thought Using tear drops like a phoenix to fill in hurtful spots So it may shape, repair, remake a safe place for its loves Forgetting often thoughtlessness when moments it was roughed Beyond its delicate repose blinded from the truth A heart of gold may change its shape but never its value So take to mind yourself my friends, if ever you are told You have a gracious gift in life within your heart of gold Because its yours and true enough you will live to see A heart of gold will heal your soul and set your worries free Never let another mouth chastise or brand your fate That the way you know to love is a big mistake But also true with me and you and those of us who care Guard your heart of gold with diligence, keep it safe from snares Which would otherwise cast out the value of your soul Love yourself always the way you would a heart of gold
Jade Jaspers

Whimsical Redemption

On a whim from within, my fingers begin, to put into verse an inkling,
From what I'm not sure, for a purpose obscured, I consider it more or less tinkling,
With words so I might, give reason a try, expanding imagination's plight,
That gathers in days, among sunlit shades, where my mind finds peace in a night,
Among stars out my windows, away from the fellows, who barter and bargain with banters,
So that I may be, alone with just me, to give myself into what matters,
To me as it is, nothing much, gee wiz, a turn of a phrase on a thought,
Not for a mention or anyone's attention, but to give life a glimpsing bright spot,
Where mind searching refrains, some free from quatrains, can ramble on never to mention,
Any disparity, or loves irregularity, that pulls me away from good intention,
Diving and sweeping, above all that deeping, that others can delve in all day,
To allow my mind freedom, because when I believe in, a moments escape I can soar,
Past all of the sorrow, and wishing tomorrows, a meaningful, meaningless what for,
Can you believe in, all this as it is, see here, read this, that's all this writing is, contour,
Gibberish, mix and mish, word bending, and styleless pitch, uncanny, but blending in phrases,
To fill up a cup of time, with all of this find a rhyme, just to expand my mind's basis
Never needing a topic, or subjected project, to wind up my worded ambitions,
Just something to say today, because my life lives that way, washed in its written redemption.

Jade Jaspers

The Romance of the Writer

Note the minds searching for the uniqueness of idea to expound upon while it hushes all other stimulus that invades it's inner spaces realizing that phrase worthy cadence is in of itself the most essential element of bringing together the idea of moment. The idea of leading myself in thoughts to a yet unacquainted place where the romance of the writer is entwined with the words in the writing in an intimate arousing of the subject where all other would be subjects are lost to the attention of the mind's penetrating exercises in exploration. An inner galactic explorer on its venture to discover the confines of the eager mind it has acquainted itself with for years; reminiscing first one idea then another until it has resourced every formula of variant needed to feel appeased by the moments to which it has passed through. The euphoria of the meeting building to an avid pitch waiting anxiously for the moments when once again the eyes of the imploring flesh sees it's most desired affection; the decadence of the moments waiting to be tasted as a saving drop of water upon the softened lips of it's lover. The fingers of the individual fidgeting awkwardly through mundane tasks in the days past has wasted it's time prying the soul of mind in unmeant directions for its survival which is needing the breath of the passions living to release it from the everyday sentiments of the plastic screens separating it from what requires it, to where it would plunge with all haste, to define the ever wantoned design of it's being.

It is a place where the minds of millions dare not to go in search of for lack of confidence in the findings of the travelling required to breach it's thick walled etiquette, intimidated by the expanding visions that might lay before them. An environment of atmospheres where the scents of undisclosed objects wake future possibilities rather than memories of past experience; and the visionary quests change from first one scene then another under the all watchful eyes that search for the perfection of a meeting of the living with the creator of all creation; the impossible task of understanding the quantum variants of all possible lives to live; the supplications of the human condition molded from years of apostolic teachings only reaching as far as routine rather than experience.

The ideal surroundings are no more than willingness to begin in a room with nothing more than an expression taught writer and the unction to transform one's mind to describe distant mountain tops surrounded by steep cliffs that fall into bottomless valleys; then again into trails of lush greenery surrounding adventurous feet in search of solitude from the LED brightness of a brilliant city, encased with glass buildings, accompanied by like minded persons, who bring acknowledgement to hidden blooms of rare trees atop cave walls, like mountain laurel, taking care not to disturb the wildlife while gingerly stepping through brier barriers. Once there then onward to a secluded home of flowing drapes through open windows, plush carpets under tired feet, warm bath to melt away the sweaty smells from satisfied body of journey, to exquisite silks around damp skin, then lathered in lavish lotions and lain on thick cushions of untouchable softness where the body then frees mind, will and emotions to exhale the validations of their presence as natural as light appearing in all its varieties undaunted by the presence of dark or shadow knowing it's glow can not be vanquished. Living in the uninterrupted, with the complaints of in-valiant oppositionist, who have neither time nor want of such things, the hands explore vocabularies for things as simple as describing a silence in the moments where breathing is the rhythm of their thinking and the release from mandatory requirements to be, to think, to say this or that to appease and please a critic who is, was and will never be satisfied in the moments of anyone other than itself; find their opposition destroyed by the sounds of the breeze, the contented songs of birds, a cooing cat, and various other creatures going about their way unconcerned with the exploration of their activity.

To leave that where it is is then to venture through an array of elegant motifs placed in museums where the artists of our ancestries described their lives in the most available ways of their hands capabilities. Only to resurface among a foreign city where you can not understand the language of the predominating crowd around you yet are induced into happiness by the engulfing sights, sounds, and scenes while you stroll the vestibules of the town in search of food and accommodation with a dear friend who's companionship well fits your humor and thinking; pausing to take pictures of the things you find interesting, taking turns posing by landmarks of past days to celebrate the day you are both together where a million feet have trod before you and a million more will walk when you've moved on from this place.

Relinquishing those thoughts to a cloud of unknown quiet to refocus your visionary path into a time of becoming the vigilant wanderer of indescribable emotions that leads you to dare search for a lover for no more than the sake of knowing to question the flesh that epitomizes the demands of your own individuality who has the choice of their choosing in the way you would choose. Crossing eons of time lost in the sensual skin of the writers personal appeal, releasing their most intimate resources inside yourself to awaken and bring to life the breath of your longing to birth in them their pleasures. Once satisfied, leaving in understanding that the adventure shared would be carried elsewhere to a building where a work office demands a ringing phone, irritating coworkers, a perverted ill-tempered manager who insults your integrity, your life, your intelligence, your efforts and gloats in the fact that they never have to appreciate you as you are. The world around you is stale with the air of glossy tiles and stucco walls, flat white paints, and computer equipment; and the face in the mirror of the restroom in front of you doesn't seem to be no more alive than the digital picture of a person on your phone. Leaning forward you stare into your own eyes noting the subtle colors that compose them then drift back into memory of the moments of imagination where the birds woke you from a tree outside your bedroom window welcoming you to a new day and a lover questioning if they would ever see you again. With no promises made, as to not break them, the last whisper of their kiss lingering only momentarily as the next thought encourages the adventurous thinker into scaling the skies with the thoughts of a storm cloud, gathering rains over a dry valley, where even the most seasoned garden is silently whispering a prayer to a god, a goddess, a person, a passer bye to water it's wishes for survival; reaching past what is presently available into the atmospheres that surround it pleading for relief and more than a day's satisfaction.

Such is the individual delving into the mind of the unknown world it craves, to sate the known world in which it is present; to ease the burden of their want, and please the unfulfilled queries of their thinking that cries to them like a newborn child in search of comfort from a caring parent who never hesitates to quench the discomfort of its offspring that is unable to tend to it's own needs.

Jade Jaspers

Except For To Find Light

For what is writing or reading except for to find light.
A window or lantern or lamp to make bright.
The words on a page that welcomes you there.
Containing a visual idea to be shared.
Of intrigue or suspense or a journey through both.
To encourage your imagination to wonder and coast.
Down long winding roads through portals of time.
To swim across channels and find mountains to climb.
With characters you meet, without fear or hesitation.
From all walks of life and various locations.
Inviting you in from the darkness of days.
To provide you with friendships that can't be displayed.
In everyday scenarios of living day to day.
While there's work to be done and bills to be paid.
And people who care not for relationships.
Unless they are the center of your attentive gifts.
For words are the footwork of many a thought.
That encourages your mind to believe in what's taught.
Ambitions and courage, friendships and love,
values of things you have never been part of.
To keep away darkness that creeps in through times.
When no one is there with you there by your side.
And tries to surround you and hold you instead.
In chains of it's abusing thoughts lacing your head.
Taking the window seat away from your chair.
Turning off lights to tug at your hair.
To taunt and to plunder your known world of such.
Words, faces, places that offer you much.
More to think about at any given time.
Spaces and destinations the words make to combine.
You to the light for which you need to see.
To destroy the endless dark that would ever be.
There to stop reading how a warm's summer day.
Became a years adventure through a most distant place.
Where cobble stone roads, lined with old stone buildings,
gave way to a party and people swinging from ceilings.
Then brought together people for an adventure to share
upon yonder mountains in search of treasures rare.
And two unknown souls who had never met,
learned to face the difficulties of their journey without frets.
Over coming difficulties, raging rivers, sharp rocks.
Leading them to a cavern, and campfire coffee pots.
Instead of the dark which leaves the mind reeling.
From no visions to expand or living life feelings.
That explain to you newness of a friend is okay.
To enjoy and return to another along the way.
For what is writing or reading except for to find light.
A window or lantern or lamp to make bright.
The words on a page that welcomes you there.
Containing a visual idea to be shared.

Jade Jaspers

In Search of Others Pleasing

When dark of night fades from day with all it's luminosity
I gather thoughts of places and faces to encourage my curiosities
Of what it is to be alive in a world where people are busied
Within their lives, forged of ideas and eyes, gathered from the tizzies
Where life has placed them there to be among the throngs of time
Never noting circumstances were engaged to wheels of design
Oh how they rush to ebb and flow without their own minds knowing
That every second ticked away was a moment of life that was growing
Into another moment when they might have need of satisfying
Something other than their flesh which silently is trying
To fill the gaps left in their mind of all their wishful thinking
As they lived among their days in search of others pleasing

Jade Jaspers

In a Day's Time

Can you read between the lines of the words placed in designs
Can you bare the heavy burden of their care
Can you place yourself aside from the feelings which abide
In the moments where the words begin to share
The times when others choose to shun while about their lives they run
While I sit to place my thoughts upon a page
Where no eyes can truly see all the places in between
All the letters, words and rhythms of an age

Could a moment that you read be a trite just to believe
In a world that's ruled by choice is there to be
Could a phrase turn on a dime as it falls out metered time
To become more than just some act to later read
For a self sat on a shelf where it's mind reminds itself
That to think is more than just a thought to see
Could you believe that such a thing is as lively as the rain
When it's beginnings start to stop then begin again

What child's imagination could accept such visitations
From a chore applied to them years long ago
That as it grew much older and the world around it bolder
That the child sought comfort in the words that told
Visions rhymed of words and singing cheerful thoughts worth the bringing
Days of light to the darkness all around
While the other people there around the child where it was scared
Had no idea how much the dear one liked the sound

Of a simple word like apple sounding much like words like dabble
Crackle, babble, tackle, saddle, rattle, paddle
Turned an ordinary day into such a game-full way to play
With a friendly thoughtful life bloomed in a faddle
And a phrase like star lit night could become such a delight
To a weary mind that needed sweet release
From the years of yearning tensions and the stresses never mentioned
Finding words their safest place to find an ease

Oh would you try to see all the worlds there are to be
Strewn in character lettered sentences and phrases
Where what others might see there is not what the writer shared
To be a deep or meaningful moment in other places
It was only for a time written down to bring to mind
All the wonderful lives that words can bring to life
Reminiscing a thought of view from a life of where it construes
The many places that could bring it joy and laughter

Giving it's world a love to love and a brighter future of
This day forth and happily ever after


Jade Jaspers

Behind the Grin Lines

Do not disturb the calm of life inside a quiet mind

For if they tell you all they think many others find

Their importance and priority does not exist there

Within the solace of a thinker outside of their snares

Who only want to taunt the mind with false impersonations

Of a living life that grows behind their expectations

Take for instance on this day as I sat to write

The tawdry influence of another decided me to slight

With their need of attention which is unjust to me

Because my ideas of my day forsake their will to lead

My own ideas, my ways of doing, what I would do other

Than partake of their mistakes to slight and wound another

Don’t take for granted gentle souls who steer clear of opinions

Because they learned well long ago opinions have no meaning

When they’re placed, pronounced, projected as an urgent need

Behind the grin lines of the farces that weave just to deceive

Jade Jaspers

Tumultuous Intimidation

And then for a moment my mind drifts to all the places it has visited over the years. All of the miraculous beauty it has gathered from faces and places, sounds and scenes to resurrect the want of goodness as the will to endeavor as a true soul alive with the urgency of living; allowing the eye catching color of compositions in another's face to decorate my wants of unexplored longings, the multi colored tints of their hair to inspire my need of gentleness, the tones of voices to lead me beyond the barricades of isolation where no eye can see inside me. Unfettered with the nuances of nostalgia inside a plethora of riddled muddle, my thoughts rise like a light as to not disturb the living committed to imprisoned ideas wrapped in learned thinking, categorized and cataloged according to their own purposes. The eyes of my searching, scanning all could be existence, knowing there is always a better idea of indulgence to sate lost hopes of dreams born to be demolished by the hands of man. Only the ridiculous would call such visionary journeys a "dreamers rebellion", only the most absurd would call it a waste of time, for life is many things society can't ransack to sale or construct to coalesce into another's destruction. For thoughts are as they are; free to explore yearnings unattended by fates. Useless to those who compute value by numerical dividends. For they rise and fall like the evenings dew to evaporate in mornings light where the ingenuity of industrial adversaries have relinquished their abilities to innovate demolitions as mastery; leaving behind the creation of living and being alive in harmony with all life as it is. Ah, the exhilaration of consideration illuminating the inward garden of soul needed hope from quiet times spent in repose; appreciated only for what they are. And while heaven is described as a distant mirror of being alive, my eternal now displaces the ancient teachings of obedience to fornicate among the ideas of it existing ever present in each of us, wanting only to be acknowledged for what it could be to all as a place in our life. The genteel voice of assurance that comforts all inner strife, granting the welcoming acceptance of a passionate compassion that casts out all fears giving birth to anguishing hates; soothing again the minds of wearied bodies with delicate touches of acceptance. An endless outpouring of protection against greed's destruction's as dictated by soulless congregations of militarized, political, computerized preachers in new age rags made from the burial cloths of their professions. Bare with me love, as my hands search for words to describe the unrecorded moments of swimming in the seas of your enticing being. Where all understanding is unspeakable within such confines of human opinion which prod us for our attention; while our unyielding wantonness of a pure truth in pleasured thoughtfulness can only be created by the elements of our knowing what it is that propels our desire to create from our existences the oceans in which we would swim, in search of lost treasures, ravaged by times tumultuous intimidation. Jade Jaspers

A Gift of Virtue

A Gift of Virtue

Human soul-aches heal with time when given healing balms
Or so proclaims the faiths of life in verses, hymns, and songs
Among our mortal days of life while going to and fro
Between our obligations in the years we grow to know
Served to make our legacies among our memories
In search of visions to fulfill our prayers on bended knees
Looking for the strength to stand to face another day
Casting off our doubts and fears in hopes to find a way
To provide a happier moment to the ones we love
Without the stern, merciless, covets destroying our needs of
Understanding and acceptance the friend of every soul
A gift of virtue to themselves and all the ones who show
The value of a mind and life that lives and breathes each day
With their words and ruling efforts prominently on display

Jade Jaspers

Only

Forget the propaganda of the agenda’s

Life itself is bigger than the advertising anyway

While the bustling hustlers push for their promos

Hiding behind screens covered with homos (sapien)

To produce the atmosphere conducive for exploitations  

Excuse my use of literary prowess to tweak you

As it searches me for a path to today's existence

It’s one of those living things that seeks breath and light

To abide in the world to which it hopes to appeal (my own)

As a worthwhile accommodation pleading me

To take the day as it presents itself on my own level

Without the upgrading volumes of nonsensical notions

That neither prove nor disprove the fabrications

Of illusions, forging delusions, amongst the masses

In wantonness, needing personalized human experiences

Battling ever after the motions of notions presented as life

Where living in a presentness is to be present in the now

As a citizen of humanity in need of it’s own humanity

Able to communicate without technology

Capable of movements impaired by directional tutorials

Reaching its own potential as a natural predecessor

Within the continuation of occupation among planetary activities

As I clean out all the unnecessaries of over inflated imaginatives,

Keep to the simplistics of ritual routines within day to day livings,

Uninterrupted or intruded upon by mortal steps of redemption;

Where no giant has ever stepped, no god has ever disclosed

And no man has ever trod on, this side or that, of heavens and hells.

Myself reaching down deep where the words of a million generations

Have pooled into contexts and pretexts of expressions

Lilted and littered to describe each another as wanted desires

And desires of the unwanted, stomping on the dreams of sanity

With over sized shoes, painted faces and silk scarves

Where the mastiffs of ingenuity are no longer expressions,

Rather repetitions, boarding the express ways of conformities.

Where I have played among the contents of pasteurized nouns

Forsaken the climb over established writing procedures

Dedicated to the wordlings of monumental predicates while

Dabbling in the puddles of non poetic procedures to produce

A variant of a muddled worded meringue that satisfies

The need of feastivities among my senses seeking refuge

Where it is allowed to expand and evolve as it wills to be present

Among the peoples for which it seeks to be a living part of

As a reality without reason or rhyme, only to be

Jade Jaspers