earth star chakra my killick, subliminal subpersonal connects me to core of planet’s centre, spinning yet rooted in quiet mirth
absorbing misaligned energy in sturdy girth
intuits heartfelt frequency exchanges
across planetary consciousness gauges
below Gaia’s benign surfaces it modulates
where own wisdomed faith undulates
steady Will humming stable solid secure
no other anchor would I endure
awareness finely tuned filamented fibres
reaches far flung corners shadowed or
light, without single flinch fight or flight
authority with divine responsibility dear
centring my substance as an emperor does
holding disciplined foresight unseen safe
signals settled velocities where I am to walk
intentions sure of next waiting chorded port
underground star exuding strength, cohort
of ages, missioning goals it never aborts
It is sad to see how
the religious fervour
of the Body Politik
has poisoned the air
from which American
democracy draws
its breath
whilst we,
in the wider world,
look on in horror
and disbelief
as a once great nation
aborts
its beautiful dream.
Love is
so much stronger
than hate…
Hate aborts
all that is
good…
Love is
a pregnancy
that always gives
birth:-
Hate pontificates
that which
is called fear
but strengthening
love silences
weakening fear…
In the healing
atmosphere
of life
hate evaporates
but love
absorbs
healing sunshine
and serenely flows
with her frothing waves
splashing upon
the shores of life…
The moonlight
of love
will always
drown
the darkness
of hate
for where love
abides
hate can never
be:-
Shorts up his ****,
Not moving very fast,
Shorts are too mini,
You see too much skinny,
Hand down his pants,
As if there were ants,
The “fit” of his shorts,
Made our lunch aborts,
Fiddling fiddling all the time,
In his teeny tiny shorts the colour lime,
Slick and wet they are so tight,
Will he get out of them…
He might (not).
Hiding from
the day
with night
growing short
The light
to expose
what darkness
— aborts
(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
Paying hard
the money short
pockets empty
time aborts
A pound of flesh
bills remain
invoice closing
— sealed with pain
(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
Hmm! I want that someone come and talk,
No, man! I am not goin' to them to say hello.
Mission aborts! Don't see them and just walk,
If they don't come, goodbye to that fellow.
Is there anyone wanting to be my friends?
I am sitting alone here, right here buddies!
I am just overthinking, and oops lecture ends,
Grow up Meet! Let's concentrate on studies!
Oh no! What if they are too introvert!
Oh my God! UNO REVERSE!
Hands hold, faces face
Eyes embrace, distance dissolves
Time stops, love lingers.
Hands hang, faces warp
Eyes glare, bridges burn
Past crashes, time aborts.
Minds mangle, hearts abrade
Egos blaze, identity incinerates
Pledges perish, bonds break.
Road deserted, journey desolate
Present pines, future forlorn
Change reigns, time rues.
_______________
September 25, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
RUINS OF TRANSFORMATION
Hands hold, faces face
Eyes lock, bridge distance
Time stops in silent grace.
Hands hang, faces distort
Eyes glare, bridge burns
Past crashes, time aborts.
Minds close, hearts abrade
Egos blaze on identity incinerated
Pledges wreck, bonds degrade.
Road deserted in journey to isolation
Past keeps the future shrouded
Time rues the ruins of transformation.
Written : February 24, 2018.
March 27, 2020
Contest : Strand Choice R, Any Form Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The Devil's wife
The Church of God is the bride of Christ
Therefor the false church is the bride of Satan
Are you the Devil's wife?
Answer the question
Yet your words mean nothing
Your actions prove the truth
Show your nature, God will judge
The Devil's wife
Crying for peace she kills her brothers
Declaring love she aborts her children
Deceit at its finest
I've met her;
She was friend at school
I reported to her at work
She goes to church every week
The Devil's wife
with her selfish drive
Her false zeal and concern
She has proven her vanity
There are but two choices
The bride of Christ
The bride of Satan
Where do you stand?
Her expectation exits
through the door of a clinic.
Doctor aborts her request.
Odor of rotten emotions
spreads on her face.
Carrying without marrying
is the mother of shame.
Thorns in society prick her.
Blood oozes out
of the memory lane.
Yellow pineapple juice,
she drinks in vain.
Rustic notions fail in womb.
She takes roads with pits
hoping for ‘jerking abortion’.
Embryo of tension
grows everyday.
Her thoughts sweat.
Worries and queries
bulge out of her belly.
First published in Indian Ink.
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
Note
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
re post inspired by theme of Laura contest
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
BRIAN STRAND
Note
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
truth, word play. silly, how I feel, spoken word, humour, food
PALINODES STOLEN To LIFE’S CHANGES!
I would like to say; this ‘palinode stolen from life’s trials and tribulations---
To what I have said before and I’ll say again; in all ‘ways’ it takes but two to tango!
Two sides are given to a story; one side right and one side wrong---
Two choices of turn ‘aborts’; either you’re in or you’re either you’re out…
When having to call:
“A spade is a spade’ and can be told,
either black or changed to white---with and to ‘no buts’ in between!
Calls can be heard or not heard….
Depending on the choice “to hear or not to hear’ ---
That is the question and which (calls to mind) of having a very ‘selective hearing’ answering with an neither ‘yay or a nay’---
What did you say, I can’t understand? I don’t hear you---
If I have told you once, I have told you twice.
Some seaweed we eat, and some seaweed we don’t eat!
Survival of the fittest begets a long stay or a short stay
And some seaweed shall be used for fodder!
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