Ambit Poems

Magenta Skyline Cluster

First blush fountain azimuth of hued rays
wet patio shrub basket in the haze
zealous heartland tower cry as life force
celebrate and  savour August rare days

Magenta skylines cluster silken clouds
blue ocean colour eyes that worship shrouds
a fancy surreal canvass so divine
it mesmerises jubilant bright crowds

Summer fun arcades stoke our dream world mind
gasps of red tint bliss a peak season find
earthbound  poise dilates refulgent cascade
rocking beach tune fare blurs dark strain purblind

Sapphire plinths that anchor stoic ambit
vision on parade my high rise gambit
traipse amid the dahlia euphoric
seventh heaven rapture’s cloud nine orbit

Aversion Sprouts From Desire

Under the scorching blaze of the craving sun
The desiccated life suffering forsaken parched
Searches for a wayside tree of gratification
To provide the satisfying shade of success.

The fulfillment of deep desire of irresistible love
I irresistibly desire from the core of my heart
Subsumes seamlessly the passionate hedonism
That takes me to the ambit of enticing impulse.

Chasing mirage on dwindling dunes of despair
Hope lost of taking life to the illusion of oasis
As sand storm of setback brews in the horizon
I enter the awareness realm to surpass crave.

The insight restrains the demanding dreams 
Lest these plunge to languish in life’s abyss 
Push the self to the destructive domain of fear 
At the disappearing edge of the ebbing hopes.

My mind then develops special skill of courage
Cultivates aspirant ability to evade the urge
Repulsion frees me from the bond of attraction
As I feel aversion sprout from the seed of desire.

________________

September 30, 2022
Contest : Desire And Aversion
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker

Penumbric Fringe

Penumbric Fringe
David J Walker

The lateness of the hour
Measured in the meter of the 
News-mans message
	The Hour is Late 
	But not come
Cries the downtown crier 

The lateness of the hour
With unrealized power
	From the sun
But then
	They will be they
Won’t they
They are the one-word
Future

The lateness of the hour
Is   Time
	And time again
Repeated in 
Ambit chaos
Within the penumbric fringe

Winds of Change

"The winds of change" a Briton warned
In his speech to South Africa,
Meaning that those who were scorned
Might soon rule the republica.

Many heard what he was saying
From the parliamentary podium
But most were probably thinking 
He had smoked a shot of opium!

No one made capital from this.
Not even the underdogs!
It is true that their nemesis 
Had guns, hippos and dogs!

Clever circles murmured the phrase
But even they didn't backdrop it.
Was it all a wild goose chase?
Was it anywhere within their ambit?

But the winds of change reached the shores!
The apartheid forces resisted!
However, the winds entered the doors!
And universal suffrage was instituted!

British premier Chamberlain was right!
He'd looked from his vantage point.
Democratic South Africa came to sight:
An idea that might have seemed quaint!


                                                4/16/2022

Skiff In a Low Place

The hull lolls,
anchored to a fouling current.
Juggernauts of heat sleep under a leaden sky,
bugs lurch and slow skirt.
I nod over my spine, afloat on a humming haze.
An osprey jumps out of a high ambit,
swooping fast.
I imagine a wind in the wake of its wings.
The bird dives, cleaves the light, arrow bright
parting the weight of these doldrums.
The wallowing skiff seems to shrug off the heavy air
as talons scoop up a wriggling fish
together with my up-lifted mind.

Tusk

right to left me read please

every poem must have a word
like a keystone centered in it
the word is

                                              OR

then there must be a symbol-word
misplaced, out of place,
something unsettling must take place
a hapax legomena like

TUSK

now the bowl is cracked
wabi-sabi

on a white page
some ink has been spilled

even a random accident has great meaning
if it can be read

you see something invisibly big
or something too small to ignore

a coin falls onto the floor

                                              OR

it hangs in the air spinning on and on
never reaching

          ambit

    a poem is like that
    never arriving
    always reaching

r m l t r -

it in is truth

Jungle Justice

Get me a matchstick
And the rogue over there quickly pick.
Or you fetch me smoker’s lighter,
Whose flame is assuredly brighter,
Pouring me out some petrol
From our jeep long on patrol…
Jungle Justice is beginning to itch like lust,
Last week’s, a badgering must!
The fair-play funded by fire
And aided by vindictive tyre:
An impatient crowd’s justice,
Permitting no armistice:
Rather like our dirty street,
Every burnt body, a nice treat!

Still rubber trying to locate?
Or what it should cost calculate?
Please, let me have a bundle of unsmiling ropes
That should dash an escapee’s lurking hopes,
With this ridding our society of a bandit…
They’re real Trial Judges within our ambit.
No sooner are their wigs worn
Than The Hardened confessions are born:
His true identities peeping back at you,
Their impossible hideout proving to be true.
Old timers freely recalling their first operation,
A neat fingering of even the day of digression
But now to them no show of leniency
Nor our determined hands control their proficiency.

I Think It Snows

Flakes as silent satin
Sail down salubriously 
Dissipating into stupefaction
Hitherto ramming clay
They were the forlorn harbingers
Before a cataclysm of sposh
Burst through the firmament
Like a derailed locomotive 
Besmirching any implement in ambit
The innocuous sniff of sposh 
Vilifying my cranium
As with a burst of gore
Revivifying to the hub
After an interlude of rhythmic diminution and distend
A rapturous ardor of splendor
Garnering me into a frosty sphere
Of flakes and satin
Methinks it snows.

Nimble News and Vital Views

Groaning and mourning
Separate body from mind
Joking, poking and rocking
Calm nerves, propping me up to find

My way back home
Where I cavort into the comfort
Body and mind need to roam 
Free of the discomfort

I encounter when from home I stray
Hoping to delight my heart, to leave the past behind
When to my God I pray
As in stock I nurture no axes to grind

With either friend, fiend or foe
In sane circumstances and distances
Ensuring hoe and woe
Disenfranchise no gallant glances whose dances

Ascertain body and mind cooperate
In perfect union with objectives
I’ve set to operate
Within modicum motives

Driving initiatives I take
Within the ambit of my powers
To correct a mysterious mistake
Concealed in favourite flowers

I tendered to my secret admirer
To placate misgivings she expressed when I broke the news
We were no longer interested in views held by the inquirer
Who chose to block the engagement that run counter to his vitriolic views.

Funnelled Vision

Envision if you will
how your tunnel vision
denies sharing, context and scope.
Your ambit roundabout whirls in blinkers
denies entry with right-of-way blocks
as you go round and round
spinning endlessly in the dark
on a roundabout game in the park.
Your circumspect vision funnelled 
down tunnel into your black id hole.

Seasonal Change

Seasonal  Change 

Autumn  fades bring  winter  skies,
Gone  the amber filtered  clouds
The birds  migrate, leave  chill  behind,
For warm  up  north a mate  to  find

Charcoal smoulders  capture  peaks 
A  mountain  summit  drools  with  cream
The  lake  reflects  a   mirror shine 
As nature paints its  own design.

For  as  the season takes  its  toll 
Species adapt to  nature's call
Believing this the  hour  glass be
In ambit await a new spring  to see

Innocent Terrorists

As days become months
And months become years
Wickedness journeys from sector to sector
Permeating through the resilient borders
Of both the thick and the thin 

Imagine an institution
Where people are only taught to read and write
And they wrote
And were tagged terrorists

What a set of terrorists
Who only fight with ink in a blank?
In a system where injustice prevails
And everybody stands at ease

How has injustice eaten the bread of the winner
Managerial lapses swept under the carpet without remorse
Irrational decisions reached without intuition
Yet hidden behind the closed doors of the senate

Who shall speak for the voiceless?
In a society where destinies no longer matter to so called leaders
The fate of the young being managed within the ambit of political gambling
And careers of future leaders being tossed like the dice of a coin

I cry in unknown tears
For the future is now a political propaganda

Unbolted Doorsill

A pristine ambit 
Unlocks forepart to commence
Restored life events
Ameriolate happenings
Metamorphose forever

Four Walls

Four walls





Sat destitute 
within four walls
of her citadel,
Embellished in gold
and pricey diamonds,
Adorable silky cher
in vast ambit,

Waiting and waiting,
days after days
till the war will end,
For her prince to return
victorious, in jubilance.

Longing soft heart,
Abandoned in walls
of riches, dignity
kindness and valiance,
With no privilege 
of freedom,
A tearful soul
eating her heart.

Not a mere breath,
She is an esprit
with subtle thrust,
She is an essence
beyond four walls,
That else embalm
and macadamize.




Written Feb 24th, 2016
For contest by Chase

Now entered for "Any poem #38" poetry contest by PD A

Still Waters

STILL WATERS

Cautious on a determined curious observation
Ceaselessly burying my mind in the grave of fables
A believe that truth lies within the ambit of rumours
Obsessed with this stupid incessant search for the truth
Stupid! They said; more stupid it visibly appears
Only the death of the faithful will be laid at the feet of the unfaithful.

There is an escape path; but we always come back
No matter how far we run; the truth runs after us
It will only take a day to restore normality; just a wish
Maybe if wishes were horses; the destitute could ride
Just as wishes keep being wishes; the poor becomes poorer
Imagination is more important than knowledge; the patterns are invisible.

The early warnings came earlier than expected
We read the will to forgive our enemies; not our friends
She is harmless; at least, so I assumed for long
She is one of a kind; one not capable of deceit; I thought
In for more than a surprise; she did the unthinkable
The sayings now understood; still waters run deep...


Lordvip

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