William Kelii Kekaula Poet I do not know?

The Surly Sort

Semblance veneer, a city's fear,
cadence for ears, all who are brave.
The rash of feet, like fleeing deer,
No rest until their souls are saved.
Canyons of steel and glass allow,
crossed windowed eyes that do not trust.
The same old story comes hollow
to the unconcerned, just like us.
Smack the facade, a headstrong plea,
from lack of yield on some cold ground.
For every crack, a fantasy,
and from each step, a hollow sound.
It's the snare of the promising,
the hit mode of the undeterred.
Not lacking the street-racked sounding,
by one, to be observed.
A thousand fearless and one bold fictions,
soles worn thin against the gray.
A pledge for their inclinations,
conquer another taxing day.
Bang the surface, a steady feat,
A benchmark of yearning we hold.
To gain a spot on this grand street,
Not to be measured with the old,
the failed, shattered, and the muted.
Who fell before they gained their goal?
We grow and push, we're not routed,
metro's our will, no claim, no hold.
Smash the dumb mask, a damnation,
It's evidence of what we face.
We tread ahead, we don't question,
Our nature molds a nonstop pace.
In this arcade, snakes slithered maze,
We find our meaning, find our grace.
Rest our weary bones on some chaise,
We're winning in this urban race.
Stalked digi-miles to cough out debt,
found in scruffy leather and frayed.
'Hail Mary' caused tears as they wept,
bills paid, I'm made whole, time for trade.

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Sotto Poet October 23, 2025 at 2:11 PM A splendid poem, this contest template work delves into the trials and yearnings of city existence, encapsulating the unyielding chase of aspirations amid the tumult and disorder of urbanity. It contemplates the steadfastness of souls as they traverse the weight of societal demands and personal tribulations, ever in pursuit of significance and satisfaction. It circles the essence of city life, the solitude and skepticism that pervade the crowded streets, the relentless pursuit of triumph over hardship, and the quest for self and meaning amidst the hurried chaos. I traversed the path you laid before me, yet I find myself uncertain if my words can ever rise to the heights of yours, dearest friend. William Kelii Kekaula October 25, 2025 at 12:21 PM I deeply admire and am truly inspired by your detailed and effusive praise for its thematics and emotive depth. To the honorable furtherance to partake in my stead, for ’tis I should be humble and doubt my abilities to emulate the vastness definitively elicited by you. The Surly Sort, in particular, bears intrigue, which enthralled me to institute this contest as twas entitled to be more subjective than accurate.

Daniel Henry Rodgers October 22, 2025 at 12:26 PM Hello HP, Ahh...the rhythm of the city along with its grind, its grit, its ghosts. The language is relentless in the best way: “smack the façade,” “metro’s our will,” “digi-miles to cough out debt.” A wonderful, fierce, unflinching anthem. Now that I am retired, I don't have to go to the city every day. Autumn Blessings, HP, Daniel William Kelii Kekaula October 22, 2025 at 5:51 PM If you've ever been to New Orleans, the drive resonates with your reflective words. They're like a river that has finally found its way to a peaceful delta, no longer battling the rapids and the jagged rocks of the upstream city. Now, the season of stillness has arrived, allowing the leaves to turn from the vivid, man-made colors of ambition to the deep, golden hues of rest. Instead of the city's relentless rhythm, there is the quiet cadence of the earth preparing for its long, deserved slumber. Aloha, my friend.