DEAR FRIEND,
THE END IN FRIEND HITS THE DEEP END,
THE SHADOW I USED TO DEFEND,
AT PRESENT I HAVE NONE TO DEPEND,
ITS AS IF ALL YOU DID WAS PRETEND.
DEAR FRIEND,
WITH THE SHADOWS OF YOU I SPENT,
ALL YOU LEFT WAS A PAINFUL DENT,
CURRENTLY ALL I CAN DO IS VENT,
LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO SERPENT.
DEAR FRIEND,
I NOW HAVE NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY,
YOU HAVE LET MY FEELINGS DIE,
YOU WERE NEVER TRUTHFUL TO ME, YOU LIE!,
I HAD TO WAVE YOU GOODBYE
DEAR FRIEND,
I THANK YOU FOR ONE THING,
FOR TEACHING ME FRIENDSHIP CAN STING,
I AM THE ONE I HAVE TO CLING,
GRATEFUL YOU'RE NOT HERE THIS SPRING.
We have all had that moment of frustration
We search for words that hurt out of desperation
Having a hard time sorting out our feelings
That's the moment we become harsh in our dealings
There are times we fight to be understood
Wishing we can take back the words if we could
It doesn't pay to speak out when we're mad
We say things that leave scars which is bad
Relationships are lost and love isn't regained
Scars can heal but the words always remain
Your emotions are running high don't go no further
Whatever you say at present can ruin the future
When it comes to anger it's an honest and true fact
Never say anything you know you can't take back
Bleak, Bitter ! Now dragging dull days.
Too long Past and too short Future
At present, in senile decay.
Does not matter, rue or rapture.
No dynamism., life stagnant,
Bleak, Bitter ! Now dragging dull days.
Forgotten when progress was vibrant.
All around dark, no shiny rays.
Life has no charm, lustre and glaze
Nothing to expect , nothing to gain.
Bleak, Bitter ! Now dragging dull days
Only spending time in vain.
Awaiting for last bell to ring
Yet for rest of life, wish to pray
Dynamism again to bring !
Bleak, Bitter ! Now dragging dull days.
27
there are twenty-seven
ongoing wars at present
we have not evolved
we've just gotten better
at killing one other
27
doesn't include gang warfare
we have not evolved
we don't share
we take from one another
27
involves weaponized rape
unbridled {torch}er
the checkered soul of the taker
we have not evolved
27
mature wars
dozens more in the fetal stage
we have not evolved
we are a species of enraged takers
shameless pain pushers
the soul of slave traders
27
universal sins
Where the Hell is God!
amidst all of this mess
27
wars
civilians removed
from resources
parched and starving
the people who start wars
nibbling caviar
fornicating
beneath waterfalls
27
wars
we have enough arsenal
to forever quiet
our blessed solar system
27
Internet mania, a double-edged sword,
Prez campaigns, fun nor frolic can afford,
Memes may make huge buzz,
But few votes for the fuss,
Fans may turn sudden foes,
And goodwill sooner goes,
Look at Trump, he now whimpers who ere roared.
____________________________________
Happenings |03.08,2024| political, USA
Poet’s note: kamala Harris may have turned a phenomenon, or rather a ‘feminomenon’ at present to command a lot of fun and froth on social media. The question is would they turn into actual votes in November? One hopes, she does not become a victim like Hillary Clinton. Prez campaigns cannot hinge on coconut jokes.
You have time still, to escape with your
essentials. I only know one spider.
It will crawl to you slowly,
as a million-dollar snail might.
He has made an apartment where the ceiling
and wall meld like oceans.
His place is lousy with cross-hatched whites,
with a fine sheer finish that glows
in the sunlight. At present, he is resting in a sunbeam
atop your W-2 that was mailed to me
on accident. He moves his wire-thin legs across
your typeset name, as if trying to learn
every serifed edge of you. I have named him Richard,
for his lion heart. The sun is setting, and he races
the shadows up the wall. He will come to you well rested,
eager. I told him how the mosquitoes love you,
and there is a hunger in his eyes. Pack lightly, my dear,
move swiftly—you said your life was boring so,
I have just released your address to every spider I know.
What will you cling to
When the art is letting go
Cling to nothing
Tarnish not the vision
Of the artist
Not the viewer of his art
Cling not
To what it might have been
Nor what it is
To you
At present
It will change
With each sun-teased shadow
Alter its depth
With the passage of time
So cling not
To what you would have it be
Nor to what it once was
Close your eyes
And let it become
Yours…now
A blue pastel haze
On this midwinters day
envelops the world as we know it around
I pause in this whistling quiet of snow
And take in the absense of sound
Within I felt a budding
the slightest little nudge
has cracked this frozen layered facade
I believed no way would budge
Hold out I will for eventual thaw
Winter will pass this way by and by
As closely I harken the whisper of spring
On a wind as soft as a sigh
The palest of light shines through this gloom
emitted from a distant shore
embrace it I will for its life giving warmth
As I have received it before
Joyously I welcome it
though its light at present is vague
Soaking it inwardly warming this core
melting this ice crusted ache
Please feel more freer to need more
Than the needier of neediest. Don't
Stress or bleed on my moneyness.
Oh my goodness it's the plush of Posh!
Do you not see? It is an EMERGENCY.
emerge and see. You see? Yes it's
Best to watch and see. Oh wake
And see? Oh or Wake and watch.
You just wait and see. It will be plus
Posh the stock flock. What's it got?
The spot? Let me tell you. The walls
Of those streets have the funds.
There is forever always a memorable
Celebration in all of their most
Luxurious homes. Plus these over
Their know soooo much plush. And
That's the Posh of it. At present
They are building castles and or
Major swagger of mega wager
Palaces. And umm what is your
Analysis?
A love letter not published.
I'm old now, was old ten years ago, but less in years than at present, and not too old for warm
a embrace
She was related to my wife, which makes falling in love awkward, but infatuation falls like rain where it pleases
“The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain,” I wrote a love poem, not my metier, but as is said, nothing is as foolish as an old fool, or something like that.
A poem about the way she walked, her gracious body beautiful, the way she cast her head like a filly when angry, how could I be still like a mute when confronted
with so much desire?
My intent was pure I dictated what my heart told me
in a shivering moment, when fatally shot by the golden arrows and a heart that razed like an express to an early
death in spring, when Easter Lilies smile emitting
the intoxicating aroma of as yet unfulfilled love.
I gave the poem her to read, she became ashen-faced
Quickly, I said, I hope you like the poem it's written for
a poetry magazine that takes in love poems.
Oh, she said. Yes, a nice poem, but her hand trembled when she handed me the poem
did I see a flicker of disappointment that the poem was not meant for her.
I look at where Ireland is now,
Compared to the dark times,
They seem to have put behind them
Through courageous decisions made for the sake of peace,
On both sides of the conflict.
I see that as a path for leaders involved in middle east conflict to take,
And I am sure if they asked for mediation from Ireland,
As they have been in a dark place and found a way
To let the light in, giving peace a chance to work its magic on hearts,
That had seemed broken beyond repair,
I am sure they would respond well.
I don't see hope coming from any other quarter at present,
But am happy to be proved wrong.
I want to read these poems to you face to face one day
To look into your eyes while reading all I've had to say
I hope you have some time to spend, there's lots of words to read
It might take hours, it might take days, but for this drive I won't speed
The only thing I ask of you is a small kiss for each one
At present count there's hundreds, but these odes might not be done
What if there's a thousand? What if there are two?
Will you give me all those kisses still? I really hope you do
At this rate I may never stop but you don't have to keep
Your side of the bargain, or you might never sleep
So let's just say one hundred, I'm not greedy after all
Even one, if it's from you, would leave me thus enthralled
I want to tell you something
Something that may seem
To be just idle chatter
But you I don't just flatter
Now you may think I'm biased
But really it's the truth
The former is the latter
My words I don't just scatter
I think you're the most beautiful
Girl I've ever seen
The kind of girl that lives inside
The film reel of a dream
And though at present moment
I only get to look
That doesn't mean inside my head
I'm not writing a book
It's a romance story
It's not fiction at all
It's all about a troubadour
And his zeal for the belle of the ball
Fast forward to the ending
It's what endings are made of
They walk into the sunset
Together and in love
I let him go away
choice amidst divine ray
never causing delay
but bringing blessings' tray
as heart decides to stay
abiding in God's way.
I let such go away
chance for future great yea
yet asserting loud nay
while earnest soul did pray
for blest favor each day...
now, "thanks, Lord" I say.
I let it go away
claim toward stardom quay
devoid of regrets' prey
as faith fought carnal clay
with love and mercies' pay
upon Christ's triumph today.
I let them go away
cause those would lead astray
neither white, black; but gray...
at present, I'm okay
victorious, come what may
with Saviour's grace-display.
*Proverbs 16:9 A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps.
May 3, 2023
Edited on July 11, 2023
1st place, "To The One I Lost" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 8/16/2023
Sweet dreams flap the wings on the vast sky
Petals of the soft lips compose the whisper
Rising rainbow hails the smiling green heart
Elopements of the feelings build the bridge
Arrow of Cupid plucks the honeycomb duly
Dahlia dapples the twilight to unites eyeing
Inner chamber of love waits for the carnival
Nimbi of the soulful nectar lift up the tears
Gently we enjoy the divine milieu at present
Hub of our heart there is the root of loving life
Absolve from the alone sigh to adapt the peace
Peddling the oar of conjugal boat on the ocean
Passage of the passion-flower greet to revitalize
Ignite the starry night through the moonlit kiss
Name the momentum the Eudaimonia happiness
Each, we can enchant the life together with unity
Sacrificing the slavish ego come to worship love
Spread the fragrance wind to wind to be happy
March 19, 2023
Spreading Happiness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
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