Related quotes: He is old now hell...

A Scientific Tasteless Artificial Era (part two of Certain Knowledge Know)

He is old now hell bent rover
spends his time among flowers,
flora diverse trees in winter,
species of trees shrubs ferns,
quietly pondering mysteries for hours;
summer embodied in capsule nature
investigating wild places near adventure.

Still they tell tall stories about him
stories that can raise the ears of corn,
grown to sky proportions above height man,
grown more swiftly and surely than is born,
in favoured climates despite balanced care given.

A free flavor of exultant expectation
that leaves the taste buds buttered,
in joyous nourishment, invigorating life,
with stimulating minerals and vitamins.

Imbued real wonder of such organic foods
mouth watering melons seemingly grown,
by myth fairy folk who chance still reside,
may some say about ageless mystical regions.

No experimental genetically modified foods
grown to new disproportionate research size,
in cauldron vats modern chemical nutrients,
symbolizing a scientific tasteless artificial era.

Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Journeys Through Diversity Defining Life (part one of Certain Knowledge Know)
A Scientific Tasteless Artificial Era (part two of Certain Knowledge Know)
Eyes Telling Multiple Mysteries (part three of Certain Knowledge Know)
I Was Even Born In Them (part four of Certain Knowledge Know)
God Bestowed Information (part five of Certain Knowledge Know)

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Certain Knowledge Know

I. Journeys through Diversity defining Life

There is something rather sad
about people those poor compelled people,
who have somehow unseen silent become,
wanders over face of siren earth.

Especially when they have become old
when they are alone, worn, torn, and old.
Especially alone, when weathered worn old
as I now suddenly become amazingly old.

It touches my enveloping heart
with old haunting memories,
due to an ancient inheritance
an intense wandering quest spirit,
mixed within my celestial nature.

For I was born old
yet lingering scent, craving curiosity,
kept life’s hardships,
new intriguing about harsh edges.

Barely enough
a desire to perceive know,
motivates tired
emotions inquisitiveness,
discovery no rarity.

Makes for a strange
rich personage,
some even stranger,
chance bedfellows.

But what journeys
journeys through
diversity defining life.

Life’s been a fated warp fabric
so many loose threads,
running through mists,
merging cyclic link bound time.

Soon traverse must wane,
decline fade waver,
with encroaching onset age.

Rove no more hell bent astray,
untwist ravel out possible pathway,
magic many varied impulsive way.

II. A Scientific Tasteless Artificial Era

A free flavor of exultant expectation
that leaves the taste buds buttered,
in joyous nourishment, invigorating life,
with stimulating minerals and vitamins.

Imbued real wonder of such organic foods
mouth watering melons seemingly grown,
by myth fairy folk who chance still reside,
may some say about ageless mystical regions.

No experimental genetically modified foods
grown to new disproportionate research size,
in cauldron vats modern chemical nutrients,
symbolizing a scientific tasteless artificial era.

III. Eyes Telling Multiple Mysteries

His face is old now old and weathered by time
battered by elements mishaps the odd hand,
a face telling intriguing many layered stories.

A face evoking long lived life distinguishing
in every timeworn, etched evolving wrinkle,
slight change in profile, etched characteristic;
events marking bloody birth of numerous nations,
monumental decisions, progressive undercurrents.

With eyes telling multiple mysteries
they have suffered, been and seen,
knowing well amoral human heart
its vulgarities, depths of perversity.

Eyes looking through heart soul
stripping naked concealed secrets, at mere glance,
eyes that hold yet cannot be met,
knowing; demanding eyes, undeniably piercing.

Eyes leaving you speechless, breathless,
burning with resilient defiant fire,
though indisputably kind; infinitely gentle,
forgiving normal human shortcomings.

His face was a face even gods
would look upon, twice at in wonder,
when blessed ethereal light shone,
upon his mesmerizing countenance.

Oh how countless years faded,
restored life, regenerated vitality,
upon him swiftly spiritually bloomed;
while still seen, even more clearly,
great age, knowledge skillfully chiseled;
into those unmistakable ravaged features.

IV. I Was Even Born In Them

He used to sing
in a sort of rhythmic rhyme,
from time to time,
I remember one such rhyme.

‘If I had a golden dollar
for every dive I’ve been,
I would still be in this dive,
I am diving depths of life.

Life’s been a long tilled
amazing wondrous highway,
so many strange absolutely unique,
apparently dead end byways.

Some so savage rough
I near died, came out sideways,
bore the scars my stripes, nursed;
healed scourging proudly, my way.

Seen some like Paul cruel,
hideous, inhuman actions,
a shape of terror lies; in man’s,
acceptance easy sanction,
been the recipient; of some such,
depraved demented actions.

But we healed the broken
links in their unholy lives,
we turned the other cheek,
healed their god forsaken eyes.

I was a hot headed misguided Saul
Lord Jesus made me a Paul,
I pitched a new forgiveness tent,
Holy Spirit made palace everywhere we went.

Holy Spirit flowed like a river of wine
we saved many a lost soul just in nick of time,
when they called out to the Most High Lord,
heaven Jesus said shall be their reward...’.

Such was his personal song of redeemed life,
a man a slave to the Holy, Most High God,
publishing in his life; way of true salvation,
trusting to be saved; through purchaser Jesus Christ.

V. God Bestowed Information

Money never really mattered
he made it, spent it,
over a long principled life; that
in itself was enough.

Money was just a simple tool
to procure, life’s necessities,
to be used wisely skillfully,
as were all tools; of life’s trade.

It was to be used, that was all,
unlike others, his money he used;
it did not use him, rule over him,
control his actions, control his life.

But the God bestowed information
contained in his astute judicious brain;
of more lasting value, than development,
of a super-sonic, combat attack aircraft.

Full-blooded wanders
certain knowledge know,
the depths of such intrinsic
knowledge, understanding,

is like the vast energized dark
freezing depths; of interstellar
space, waiting for us to go there,
search out, explore new knowledge.

And ultimately enlightened know...

The last thing he said
before he smiling died.

Spread my ashes over Auschwitz.
Spread my ashes. Spread my ashes.
Among my nameless beloved brethren.

He was a strange saintly kind of guy.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Bestowed Information (part five of Certain Knowledge Know)

Money never really mattered
he made it, spent it,
over a long principled life; that
in itself was enough.

Money was just a simple tool
to procure, life’s necessities,
to be used wisely skillfully,
as were all tools; of life’s trade.

It was to be used, that was all,
unlike others, his money he used;
it did not use him, rule over him,
control his actions, control his life.

But the God bestowed information
contained in his astute judicious brain;
of more lasting value, than development,
of a super-sonic, combat attack aircraft.

Full-blooded wanders
certain knowledge know,
the depths of such intrinsic
knowledge, understanding,

is like the vast energized dark
freezing depths; of interstellar
space, waiting for us to go there,
search out, explore new knowledge.

And ultimately enlightened know...

The last thing he said
before he smiling died.

Spread my ashes over Auschwitz.
Spread my ashes. Spread my ashes.
Among my nameless beloved brethren.

He was a strange saintly kind of guy.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Journeys Through Diversity Defining Life (part one of Certain Knowledge Know)

There is something rather sad
about people those poor compelled people,
who have somehow unseen silent become,
wanders over face of siren earth.

Especially when they have become old
when they are alone, worn, torn, and old.
Especially alone, when weathered worn old
as I now suddenly become amazingly old.

It touches my enveloping heart
with old haunting memories,
due to an ancient inheritance
an intense wandering quest spirit,
mixed within my celestial nature.

For I was born old
yet lingering scent, craving curiosity,
kept life’s hardships,
new intriguing about harsh edges.

Barely enough
a desire to perceive know,
motivates tired
emotions inquisitiveness,
discovery no rarity.

Makes for a strange
rich personage,
some even stranger,
chance bedfellows.

But what journeys
journeys through
diversity defining life.

Life’s been a fated warp fabric
so many loose threads,
running through mists,
merging cyclic link bound time.

Soon traverse must wane,
decline fade waver,
with encroaching onset age.

Rove no more hell bent astray,
untwist ravel out possible pathway,
magic many varied impulsive way.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Eyes Telling Multiple Mysteries (part three of Certain Knowledge Know)

His face is old now old and weathered by time
battered by elements mishaps the odd hand,
a face telling intriguing many layered stories.

With eyes telling multiple mysteries
they have suffered, been and seen,
knowing well amoral human heart
its vulgarities, depths of perversity.

Eyes looking through heart soul
stripping naked concealed secrets, at mere glance,
eyes that hold yet cannot be met,
knowing; demanding eyes, undeniably piercing.

Eyes leaving you speechless, breathless,
burning with resilient defiant fire,
though indisputably kind; infinitely gentle,
forgiving normal human shortcomings.

His face was a face even gods
would look upon, twice at in wonder,
when blessed ethereal light shone,
upon his mesmerizing countenance.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Was Even Born In Them (part four of Certain Knowledge Know)