Deep in contemplation, or was it cogitation,
call it 'intuition', Alice aforethought had a premonition,
something's round the corner,
and she's come to warn yer,
doing all she can, before it hits the fan,
for she has seen a vision, more than a vague suspicion,
it's a strong affirmation of a predetermination,
and believe me when I say,
"Whatever omen she thought she saw,
it's on it's way here today,
and will soon be knocking down your door.
As, mirrored in her eye's mind,
all the portents are aligned,
maybe it's madness or mayhaps fun
there's nowhere to hide, nowhere to run."
'Alice springs eternal, in the human breast.'
Now aren't you glad, I got that off my chest.
Wind peacefully soft
Begins to steadily waft;
Life is colorful,
The Next Man wonderful.
Security is stable,
Killers uncomfortable;
Their aforethought readable,
Every move predictable.
Where there could’ve been riot,
The clamorous are quiet;
No more of The Abusive,
Less of the Laughter Derisive.
Evil is no more presentable
Nor vice understandable;
Nature keeps image rebranding
At corners Angels standing!
Remember those days I thought to tell you
all my untold aforethought; but each time
when we met, your beauty spot diverted
mind, all efforts led to naught, couldn't say a
word; very well knew I ought to share what
thinking pops up distraught and confused I'm;
Can you express what's your thought; yes, I failed.
Untold dreams need to be brought to your heart.
But, when I think of you, got positive
vibes; appears you had soft spot for me; see
knowing that also my thought remains with
me; conscious of what I ought to tell you;
looking at your beauty spot, well rehearsed
monologue I just forgot; Can you help?
~X~X~X~
The Lannet was created by Laura Lamarca and is a form of a sonnet.
Its form consists of:
- 14 lines
-10 syllables per line – simple syllabic meter is sufficient –
stressed-meter (iambic, etc is not required)
- No end-line rhyming is required, however
- internal rhyming is permitted.
- A specific stanza requirement is not stated.
Pasted from http://poetscollective.org/everysonnet/lannet/
Thanks to the efforts of Mr. Lawrence Eberhart for a wonderful resource at Poets COLLECTIVE site.
I have always been reticent
to speak too much.
Blathering out loud is as
leaning on a crutch.
Better too little, too late,
than too much, too soon.
Speak sparsely and plainly
what you mean to say.
And if poetry be involved,
make it a gift you give away!
Always think things and thoughts through.
And if you do decide to give it away,
Do it today!
Do not wait.
Not too little, too late.
But make it the best
you can do.
Another world in flux rings a
true intimate intensity floating
on fingerprint theories of colors
in mythical memory orbits. Symmetry
by orphaned skye blue exiles
never looking back beyond now--
gray matter time marches on toward
my chaste chromatic fantasy of
ghosts we never knew. In this
half awake mainframe madness a
distant shadow guides my thorny
imagination to an aquatic firestorm
lo-fi omissions, when the summer of our
love, you left me, like broken machine
keys--non sequitur. A last kiss starlight
sweet and sour--that last dance like fast
approaching trains fares paid but passengers forgotten
far, far from a homeward embrace----forget
past wrongs of verbal malice aforethought—-
nothing personal,
Kari.
I don't know if I told you this already,
But it is a mistake to love me.
My parents did. They now regret it.
My Grandma did. Now she's in pain.
My family loved me, now they reject me.
It is a mistake to love me.
The thing is I don't love back.
I do know that.
I don't really know how to love another.
I'm not human, I just look like one.
If you love me,
Don't be expecting me to love you back,
I won't even fake it.
I'm selfish. I'm evil.
Cuz I know all that but I won't change a little.
Sometimes I want. I even try.
But my heart seems so frozen and hard,
I don't even imagine putting a crack
Breaking it down, and letting someone inside
I don't love. I can't love. And I'm not sure I want to.
Don't love me. No. Don't ever love me.
It will hurt me to see you try.
See you expect something out of my heart
Only to get mist and a heart colder than ice.
Am I wicked? No, I'm not.
Its not intentional, it's not aforethought
But no matter how much you try
You won't break the ice over my heart.
Maybe I was born so. Maybe nature made me cold.
Maybe I might care about you a little bit.
Yes, a little bit,
Like a prized possession.
Seeking a Helping Hand
Written: by Tom Wright
3/10/2016
If you’re disinclined to work
Don’t issue commands,
And it won’t serve you well
Sitting with face in your hands;
Working smarter is one answer
But not some lucky charm,
Let the hand you’re seeking
Be attached to your own arm.
Requesting a helping hand
Has lamentably came to be,
Believing a hand of help is extended
And seldom sought by me;
Now, its aforethought,
Rather than a course of last resort;
And anything less than this
I feel I’m coming up short.
I lay and ponder all night on things you have sought,
like seeking all the darkness wanting to get caught,
your mania and depression made you distraught.
Your suicide was definitely aforethought,
and now your labeled the woman who never fought.
With all the goodness in the world you could have brought,
but you chose to perish without a single thought.
Your premediated careless death was so wrought,
a terrible and unnecessary onslaught.
No jewelry or monuments could have been bought,
to make you stay, for you were filled with so much fraught,
I think about all the goodness you could have taught.
12 X 12 Monorhyme Contest
January 12, 2017
'TIS MURDER AFORETHOUGHT
Euthanasia and abort, modern
skills to will.to kill..but never
to be taught.
A liberating process.some say
sub contracted to others,
doctors,nurses and the like,
so the protagonist can look away.
Avoid a look at the bucket of
once living flesh and blood.
avoiding a memory,which in
nightmares would always stay.
'Tis murder aforethought..
cleansed of the deed,to so
easily destroy one's once living
seed.
Again, another liberating process
arrives,on our stage,it's freethinking
error to wage..
Again,let someone else euthanize..
never us or me to do the deed,a doctor
a nurse to sub contract our need..
to administer the drug
while..I ..we ..one step removed..
watch my ..our ..kin.. ..my ..our hands..
unstained..but this fact..still ...
'Tis murder aforethought..
to will..to kill.
You hear me recite most of my PS poetry on YouTube under my pen name ichthyschiro
A woman confined into a circle of her life
Was drawn into the sure simplicity of a swish
Her being was brought into the very form she is
She has the insight to step into life with a flourish
Her soul belongs within the boundaries here inside
Nothing more pure infects this space than her very instinct
Now she politely absorbs the peace that is in the air
Which makes her proud, joyful, and truly very distinct
The woman gleams with pleasure
The aforethought reigns supreme
She lives within the circle
And love is all of her dream
Russell Sivey
In royal trappings to enthrone
A cerebral web with guile did hone
With glistening silk strands spun
Blithe veil of satin strings did run
Silted threads bleeding heart did stun
Your mercurial shadow skirted the sun
Into your sticky clutches, entranced suitor flew
With malice aforethought your hearth did stew
Your calculating mind did a duplicitous course hew
Strands of lies with frothy coating did imbue
A titillating, sensual dance did my writhing senses queue
Into your cauldron of charming potions my inhibitions flew
Steadfastly clinging to the passions feigned warmth did construe
In due course, your chilling ambitions with quantum leaps grew
My jaundiced shadow your malevolent mind did rue
My penitent feet now trapped in your ethereal milieu
Struggled to elude the strings bonded with a gripping glue
With panting sighs, tried to escape your clutches; bid you adieu
But with a menacing tenacity my broken heart did pursue
Until you depleted all my reserves leaving me hopelessly blue
Then drained my esteem, and shackled each parting shoe
Leaving my lifeless silhouette in the deceitful twines you did brew
Poor, leased heart agreeing to a blind date
With malice aforethought you bartered the rate
Twas not petty theft my reason to sift
But treasonous plot my passion to shift
Trite misdemeanor to coyly my fallen spirit lift
Felonious assault my tendered soul to rift
Friendly interest, floated my sinking dreams on your balmy skiff
Accessory to heartache, allowing my fleeting hopes to drift
A bended ear feigning with my liabilities to relate
Lecherous charmer embezzling my allegiance, endearing my fate
Ceremoniously following decorum, my good graces to satiate
Callously counterfeiting my honor, your own ego to ingratiate
Now, Drink My Dear
I saw the answer in your eyes.
Before the question was asked.
Deepest hurt, pooled in your eyes.
And streamed down your face in tears.
The silence was deafening.
How could Life be so inextricable?
Two hearts in fragments with no aforethought as to this very moment.
Was this a punishment for the joining of two bodies in love?
A love sworn to be agape, or philia?
Our love that imprudently flamed into beastly desires.
A love that pelted us to depths that left us no oxygen to inhale.
Not one in this world could sustain the perils that two have fought.
And now death knell is eminent to our love.
One last kiss, which melts away all fears.
Now, drink my dear.