Give unto us, a home that puts God first
To conquer every satanic devilish thirst
Cum subsequent tempted thrill reversed
Giving another try to get heart's conviction coerced
Give unto us, a home fervently strong in prayer
Which would beforehand averts despair
And cement hope grace truly ensnare
With everlasting merciful covenant's flare
Give unto us, a home richly blessed
With housing large enough to have guest
Which glorifies God's name to manifest
What our daily supplications; God bequest
Give unto us, a home where love rules
That not one but both are useful tools
Of efforts to adjust necessary schedules
Creating time for each other unlike fools
Give unto us, a home that nurtures children's sights
Aright in Your directives both in days and nights
That Your wills be their surging appetites
Of Your words as guides in earthly frights
Killick
Sailing across the voyage of life
Amidst witty wilful waves of trials
Often subdued with wicked wily spells of pains
Buffeted below the belt by wild woeful winds
Faith ever serves me as my killick
Never lets my boat run astray
Day and night holds me to the shore
Averts my drifting against rocks of despair
Holds me firm during tempestuous gales
Secures me during winters of distress.
When darkness of night veils my life
When hands of fate deal me massive blows
When clouds of loneliness enrol me
When the low tide subdues my spirit,
The killick, as a guardian angel,
Softly whispers in my dainty ears
To gaze at the heavens with flame of faith high
Comforts me its vigil will outlast my breath
And it will keep me company till judgment day
When my soul reaches the celestial sky.
The Future is a timid Guest —
It knocks — but will not stay —
Its Face half veiled in Morning mist —
Its Words — a shadow’s play —
The Clock declines to answer —
The Sun averts her Eye —
Yet in the Breath of Clover —
A Whisper will reply —
The Choice is not for Mortal Hands —
Nor any mortal Pen —
It turns upon a secret Wheel —
Once — and not again —
You saw — before the Others —
The petal’s sudden hue —
So trust the Day — when it arrives —
It has been seen — by You —
If balm of time heals, oft hurts just enough,
Heart heals because it exerts just enough.
Unfortunate for all destinations,
Journeys do end, linger thirsts just enough.
Many a love may die before its time,
Perhaps the love bird flirts not just enough.
If a marriage gets short of breath midway,
It seeks short cuts, skirts the right long enough.
Such a one flounders in march on the way,
For, pitfalls it averts not just enough.
_________________________
Ghazal |14.07.2025| time, love, marriage, journey
Time sat with her antinomic daughters two :
Destiny the elder, tall, fastidious and hard ;
And Luck, the merry, playful conjuring guard
Who averts the pre-ordained, out of the blue
The old lady crocheting together events odd ,
Twisting her head ,opened up the dispute :
'Why need you meddle with and transmute
'All that ensues along Fate's heavy, firm plod
Considering the plight on the marked path ,
"Mom " , said the other with a wry smile
" I let my picks find the vicissitudes wile
"That favour the brave who bear Life's wrath".
Thus went the dialectic , neither did concede ;
Striking an attitude, blurted the one serious ,
That every act has its effect due and various ;
The other winked and shrugged, to plead :
Hope induces vigour in crisis and breakdown
As morbid defeat glides like an avalanche ,
And committed strife finds enlivening chance
If death is certain , survival is winner's crown .
Sitting all alone,
sipping tea, munching a scone;
elderly woman
in a quiet coffeehouse
looking for conversation.
"That was delicious",
she says to the young server
seemingly busy.
She tries to make eye contact;
the young one averts her gaze.
It's like that most days...
staring at windows and walls.
Human connection:
a rarer commodity
for those who so need it most.
In languish sleep, so went her fate
through loveless marriage, mired in hate.
Soft-spoken words that now chastise
his world, of stranger’s scents and spies;
gold, traded for some silverplate.
Just once forbidden fruit she ate
her endless strangled passions sate
she made this bed on which she lies
in languish sleep.
Suspicions she dared not set straight
this is a world she did create;
where every little word implies;
one now where she averts her eyes
and lives where love and guilt conflate
in languish sleep.
hunger awakes desire to eat
tiredness begets the urge to sleep
being alone, this being, is besotted
with companionship and distraction
from the endless chore of self-absorption
'tis stoic to delay and contemplate
before quenching those desires.
because staying hungry, staying desirous
keeping the want unrelinquished, unfulfilled
is a discipline that
keeps the mind alert and wanting,
it averts the numbness
of being satisfied, satiated and empty
with all desires quenched, extinguished, gone.
Ardor, not passion, when it comes to a profession
Alacrity, not zeal, when it's time for confession
I sit by the stream of my own thoughts,
that glides with breaking, wrinkles
of waves into bubbles, with
a hook to fish the slippery fish of CRAVING
that smothers with its wild fins my shrunk soul.
This fish of CRAVING breeds more and
more reddish fishes of Envy, Greed
and Anger, and smothers
the stream of my thoughts, my shrunk soul, and
with a twist of mockery, it averts my bait.
With its witch-like jews this slippery fish
of CRAVING bites a bit from the bait,
plays around the hook
as an acrobatic trickster, and swells with my food,
and breeds fishes of Envy, Anger and Greed.
Thus, withers he the stream of my thoughts,
and smothers my shrunk soul
by driving soul into a narrow,
dark corner of my bubbling stream of thoughts.
August 29, 2020
Soul Slipper Poetry Contest
Kai Michael Neumann
A disease has spread,
Stay at home, away from friends,
Distance averts spread
It's a cold, cold heart
that cannot feel
someone else's pain.
It's a heart without feeling
that averts its eyes
to the ravishings in the world.
It's a self-centered ego
that feels the nothing
but its own need to be noticed.
It's the turmoil of the heart and soul
that never knows
what it is to love.
My eyes widen and mouth starts to water then I’m drooling.
My eyes follow her as she lightly steps through the room
making her way, meandering in and out of tables towards me.
I hardly notice her tight short black dress, stockings and white apron.
See in turn never averts her eyes from me sensing my anticipation.
As she approaches me my throat let’s a little gasp erupt into my mouth
And then she lifts her arms out in front of her and holds out my prize.
The biggest and best ever knickerbocker glory and it’s all mine.
Buoyant ship built to remain afloat through voyages of my life
As she navigates the stormiest of seas. An unsinkable ship with
Loyal hands at the helm. The ship's keel averts her from toppling.
Look at her forge ahead! Weather-beaten, yet stubbornly endures
Against furious, rising tides; defying all odds against her as she
Sets sail on her perilous, tempestuous odyssey. Indestructible,
This mother ship reaches all harbors intact, for she is, my faith.
Date written and posted: 06/10/2018
In low cut shirts and mini-skirts
she pesters passions through the day,
but my advances she averts
while still continuing her flirts,
she leaves me longing love’s ballet.
But daylight wanes and fades to night,
the thoughts of lustful love turn tender,
and with the bedroom drapes drawn tight
she wryly winks and lowers light,
and gives herself in sweet surrender.
April 8, 2018
Contest: Rhyme Time 2
Sponsor: Laura Loo
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