A dystopian myopian premonition
Frank about West Bank expedition
No regret get set for latest edition
Illegal war don’t need permission
Saw UN and NATO's clear omission
Unjust blood lust their admission
No contrition.. Middle East perdition
Still pretending it’s all about religion
Invades like the crusades.. demolition
This is not just some war of attrition
Toast Gaza a ghost most recent audition
Genocide boast with pride the ambition
Poor on wrong side fried an apparition
Yanks kowtowed allowed the decision
Rendition masquerading as suspicion
With the rifle will still stifle our derision
Acquisition the tradition of the mission
Sewn by their own homegrown volition
Netanyahu condition continue sedition
Submission then all neighbours abolition
(a throwback poem from High school)
I'm the most popular girl in my homeroom.
Of course, that's my own bedroom -
cause we're on COVID lockdown, zoom.
My bedroom is the math class, which doubles as the gym,
it triples as the theater - you should see the shows I'm in.
They're only in my mirror, so my cats get free admission.
My sudden popularity's due, to a matter of attrition.
If I play my cards right, I can probably be prom queen
I'll hold the ceremony in the garden, so the travesty goes unseen.
Suffer the plot of the parking lot,
Acts of attrition, lots of the disappearing shopping carts,
I had the camera out
Could hardly see where I’m going.
I called just to set up delivery
Then you laid out your whole life story
And relayed your PTSD of living with an anarchic narcissist
Neglected kids, a messy divorce, and the consequent fallout
She took him to the cleaners.
I simply walked out.
Actually, she left.
I was hard to live with.
I left it all go, years ago,
But suddenly, lately, it’s all returned.
Back in my world as if it just happened
And I am the one, all worse for ware,
Never wanting to talk about it.
Life comes back to haunt us,
Time escapes us...
No matter how far we run, or how much time passes,
That puts us right where we are, in the middle of it. ~psp
dr. p (pi)
.
Contest: Breathless
Sponsor: Constance La France
Written: 24/05/2025
Quote "To breathe is to live, and without breath, there is no life." — Lailah Gifty Akita
A breathless house wheezes
Winter looms with frost-laced breath,
this house shudders in anticipation-
Its narrow corridors wince at the thought.
These rooms have shrinking walls,
their windows wedged shut,
And doors refuse to stay open.
The air hangs heavy, like woodsmoke
curling through blocked flue pipes.
I do not breathe-
I sip air through a bent straw,
and when the wheeze arrives,
it’s like a violin strung too tight,
always threatening to snap.
Running was a rebellion, still is,
playing football, was a war of attrition,
With head covered by a towel,
hovering over a steam bowl for hours.
Today, I carry an inhaler,
like a priest carries a bible-
not always believing,
but when breath becomes prayer,
I reach for it.
Stream gushes on
The rocky terrain
My boat plunges
In the whirlpools’
Spiralling anguish
Attrition perpetuates, time to get onto the sail
The saviors winsome winds of uplifting solace
Sanctum of stratified darkness freezes within
Time to paint patina of joy on petals of hope
The sky crumbles
On sands of time
Hues of rainbow
Rapture dissolve
I drown in the sea
Of boundless bliss
Enlightened I find
In the cross-current
The oneness divine
Illumined between
The supreme & me
They battle on and show no shame
The other side must take the blame.
And each side thinks that it can win
Punishing others for past sin.
Increase the suffering more and more.
Kill and maim to settle the score.
Year upon year of attrition,
A desperate situation.
For more weapons each side must pay
Then economies in decay.
The other side must take the blame.
They battle on and show no shame .
What manner of vengeance
As a stench invading fragrance
The kind unlike princes and kings
Worthy to be denied pedestals and wings
To never be beheld when people look up
For it shall be bile in the people’s cup
A man who came in the Name of the Lord
With strangling cords of extortion beyond afford
Turning against brother with straight face
Next moment claiming piety without grace
Tainting our mettle and name
Making shame our claim to fame
What then shall we say dear brethren
Be consoled that God watches from heaven
And will save us with His Righteous Right Arm
But our due appeasement and charm
Must be our obedience and reverence
That His Spirit saturates every conscience
For we have failed in decision
Logic, intelligence and wit now face attrition
As life hands us situation after situation
What to do with the observations awaiting interpretation
Only surrender all to God in prayer
For to delve and to dare all proves too much to bear
K. Muitherero.
Oh we righteous striving to cease being sinners
Do we fight with the aim of being winners
When the fight goes on and on
Seemingly a curse on every eon
That to find earthly favor and treasure
The upright endure labour and pressure
Pressing with weariness and attrition
Aiming to edge us out of culture and conviction
Make hard the good and easy the evil
That the ungodly may be termed civil
Sight is easy but faith is best
So shall the Christian enter into rest
The battle belongs to the Lord
His Majesty and Might that we cannot afford
Affords us to be still and know
As He bolsters our faith and makes a public show
For us and for those who ask “Where is your God?”
And so are we comforted by His staff and rod
That ye shall stand and witness His deliverance
And the testimony always lace your utterance
K. Muitherero
Written: December 13, 2023
____________________________________________
If the ocean's water
were used as writing ink for pens
to write down our words of praise
the ocean would eventually dry up
before it might be put in writing.
evil will triumph
if the righteous remain silent
Inner defect causes blindness
success depends on action
stand up and do what
you realize is right
raise exertion level
a smidgeon suffices
to allow notions of impetus
you can then sleep well
your pick is akin to lacerations
requires precise timing
curious but uncertain.
blind attrition is pointless.
reach for stars
obtain an aerial view of the world
wave farewell to the land
live easily a prospective granted by
you are misusing beauty
greet the passing clouds.
forsake worries and avert your gaze
fear is a foe you must overcome
soar high and be wise.
I Stare in the Mirror
I stare in the mirror and what do I see?
An old man with rheumy eyes looking at me.
Who is this old codger, this balding old shell,
Who cannot remember what it’s like to feel well?
Where is the vibrance, the get up and go?
Why are his movements so painful and slow?
Who stole his glowing skin, his dark flashing eyes,
His derring-do, courage, his sense of emprise?
What happened to big ideas? Future? Ambition?
Why do his joints fight a war of attrition?
Why can he see clearly adolescence long past,
When he cannot remember the thing he ate last?
It doesn’t make sense, I don’t recognise him,
With his belly and baldness and weakness of limb.
No! That mirror’s a liar, whatever I see.
Whoever that old man is, he can’t be me!
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys,
Searching for the words…the right words
To express in verse my embattled pleas
On behalf of endangered animals and birds.
I was moved to adopt their cause of late
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys,
Recalling the awful fate of Arctic baby seals
Watching a video brought me to my knees.
Learning of the garbage found on high seas
Can we restore them to pristine condition?
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys
While daily, our earth is in blighting attrition.
Soon, rampant pollution will overcome us
If we do not take up this cause, so please
Remember, as a contribution to the crisis,
My fingers feverishly racing over the keys.
Written July 3, 2022
Based on observable
And well-documented evidence,
War is nothing but the deliberate
And systematic erasure of human life,
With the purpose of achieving
Some political goal.
In quantifying the variables
That factor into the equation,
There is not, so much,
A calculus of war,
As there is a basic arithmetic,
And it is computed
With the rubber end of a pencil.
In a war of attrition,
God is on the side
Of the big erasers.
If life on Earth is solely passion,
It owns no honorable mission;
All The Topics in Biology not Fission,
Israel’s Fought Wars not only Attrition.
Plain passion forges the vow
That makes man a bit of a cow
Our universal “For better for worse”,
Even as trials tighten our purse
Some men’s voicing of “I surrender my life”
While no one is brandishing knife;
A flirt’s “I shan’t let you go!”
For all her keener interest in some Joe
A playboy’s “It’s you or None!”
As he schemes to be forever gone!
Double-edge sword in a war of attrition
Slack-jacket Tony on a one-man mission
White-coat lackeys gather ‘round to hear
We’re in the business of fear: Shoot ‘em up boys shoot ‘em
Burgundy blood clot killer delay
Spike-laced spider juice! Get yours today!
System destruction is finally here
We’re in the business of fear: Shoot ‘em up boys shoot ‘em
Museum of screams you can’t rewind
The end of normal for trans-human kind
Before you pass, they will whisper in your ear
We’re in the business of fear: Shoot ‘em up boys shoot ‘em
I wasn't born with long, elegant God-limbs.
To race across the flowered plains of heaven.
I was conceived from the hammer and anvil
of a gray-witted, quick-to-anger blacksmith.
My shoulders will never feel a spray of red roses.
My only friend will be a bucket of secondhand oats.
No soft palms will stroke my dull-matted flanks.
Only whips of attrition to hold me to this lowly rank.
I'll spend a lifetime plowing uphill and moving stone.
Loyal to a fault at the expense of my soul-bones.
When my days are sprinkled over with ice and snow.
When my back is beyond bent and ribs start to show.
There'll be no tears-accolades or sweet eulogies.
Only harsh words and sharp tug into the darkness.
And a long bumpy jaunt to the glue factory.
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