feathers twirled,
long into the night.
ebonic ink,
splotched and saturated,
with the heart’s content.
t
e
a
r
s
created the first draft
of watercolors,
s
e
a
r
i
n
g
of the candlelight vigil,
long forgotten grief,
h
o
w
e
v
e
r
God never
f
o
r
g
e
t
s
He bottles up the flagrant fluid
of our awfulness, kept for
the day of wrath. Careless,
never; He eyes antiquity.
Sexuality and sensuality gone
From temptations of flesh withdrawn
We lay cuddled like innocent children.
Within walls of fidelity, hidden
Free from the aches of ages
Seek only serenity as sages.
Each minute turns into an era of joyfulness.
Heavens shine in divine awfulness.
Where have I descended? Where are my conscience and consciousness?
Why is emptiness engulfing me like the darkest nights?
Why does everything around seem like nightly nothingness?
Why do I feel as though I have fallen from mountain heights?
The feeling of feelinglessness; the thought of thoughtlessness
The mind is blank (tabula rasa), like an empty slate.
There's an absolute awfulness to utter lawlessness.
Nonexistent souls dumped in an absurdity of fate
Lethe, the goddess of forgetfulness, take hold of me.
I am dipped deep into the deepest rivers of Hades.
Nothing is transparent; no living creatures I could see.
Am I, for the further flow, thrown into the Euphrates?
To me, an optimist, all these are but passing phases.
To gaze beyond blazes, the almighty of all graces
Trembling, heart racing – it feels
So much like darkness, gray and dim
No light – no hope – no way to cope
This is the inkling of sorrow, grief
Beyond words – like the scream of fear
Fading, fading into the blackness
Silence awakening endless mourning
Regrets so humble, reducing moonlight
To a spot on the night where memory
Fades in – fades out, never wordless
Shouting silent blows, erasing hope
Dread, revulsion glimmering in a tear
Awfulness portrayed in sobs, weeping
Everlasting anguish, heartbreaking
Sensations in waves of melancholy, blurring
Every memory, each thought a laborious
Whisper of loss, the past pressing in
Meeting the passing of light, vibrating
Time of death in the signature of grief
Tearing away the peace and reminding me
The finality of this ending – surrendering
To the hope of eternity, forever and always
Living in heaven, where there is only love
Love that remembers to never give up hope!
The mind has not yet kicked in
But the mouth cannot stop talking
Spewing nonsense and stupidity
Making me feel angry-mad
Not crazier than my usual, not that kind of mad.
Why do you do that? I shriek at my tell-all mouth.
She sneers at me, curving in an evil way.
She bullies me, laughs and spits at me.
I hate her twisted awfulness.
I hate it when she goes off on her own.
I decide to take her to the dentist.
That’ll learn her.
Accept our thanksgiving, our God
for Your gift of eternal life’s fullness.
In Your salvation plan
You included us by Your loving kindness.
You paid for our iniquities
against hell-condemnation’s awfulness
When You adopted us
as Your children of righteousness.
Now, we can enjoy assurance of heaven
with Your peace-joyfulness.
Hear our gratefulness to You, our God
for Your grace of marvelous greatness.
In Your redemption act
You ransomed us from evil’s captivity and hell’s fierceness.
Your sacrifice indeed turned us new creations
to become revived with spiritual zealousness
When You forgave us
in our repentance from sinful callousness.
Now, we can walk with faith
experiencing Your compassion’s steadfastness.
*Psalm 100:4 Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
May 27, 2019
When someone dies
who is close to us
they take a piece
of an essence
of ourself
that we never had to name before.
We never had to
think about this unfamiliar
up-and-down-in-and-out
feeling
Because it
never
existed, and
was never felt,
and thus could
have never
been mentioned
The death feeling,
which is
totally, utterly taboo
and almost exclusively
one-of-a-kind
I never
realized it
was there
until
you
came
up
missing
through that
awfulness
called
death.
Chewing is my favorite sport
You can have the wine, the port
My teeth were sharp, my teeth were fine
Until we hit that 30’s line
Enamel gone, chipped off by ice,
Tried to ignore dental advice
Cavities in my icy mouth
Five root canals, we’re going south
Pain and awfulness even a bridge
I think twice now when I open that frig
When I was younger so much younger than today, I used to go to lots of poetry events. There was something called Red Sky that was every week, people were so very serious about it. Then one day I had an epiphany, "My god. I'm at a poetry event," and stopped going.
Later it all became poetry slams. Went to a few of those, too, in awe of the awfulness. People with neither talent for acting, for reciting, for rapping, and certainly not for writing poems, put all these lack of talents together and had total support from audiences that consisted in the main of people only waiting for their turn.
Once when I'd blessedly escaped from a typical slam, there was a homeless drunk across the street from the noisy venue. He was having his own private poetry slam.
He kicked a telephone pole and screamed "Hello telephone pole!" stomped on the concrete and screamed, "Hello sidewalk!" then peered into a garbage can with "Hello garbage!" and shook the hell out of a newspaper vending machine, "Phuck you news!" It was a better poem than any that was being screamed inside at the slam.
The Murder
Bombs are falling hundreds are killed many of them children
and we shake our heads in dismay, something has to be
done to stop these atrocities.
Yet there is communality about bombing, victims died trying
to save themselves, they did have a chance.
On a sand dune a man on his knees, hands chained behind his
back waiting for his killer to cut his throat and the awfulness
of being human hits me with as a grim knife of sorrow.
And then I have to endure someone defending his murder by
saying it was caused by revenge for our misdeed, I ask, I holler
into the wind, have you no compassion? Can you not feel, just
for a moment, the lonely agony of the man’s final moment?
His end so meaningless - as a life is- and no fairytale can make
this revulsion into the defence for psychopaths’ entertainment.
What was going through your head
When you decided to end your life
Did you consider your love ones at all
Leaving behind your sons and wife
Failing to show up for work on Monday
Not calling or coming home that night
Leaving your family frantic and scared
So cruel of you to leave them in this plight
You were reported missing to the police
Your car found on Tuesday near Niagara Falls
Witnesses seen you jump in the icy waters
Just thinking about it.....my skin crawls
Three weeks later, your body still not found
Your wife is still struggling to stay strong
Posting pictures of you in happier times
Sorrow you left behind will be lifelong
Now your boys will grow up fatherless
Never understanding the reason why
Damage done to them emotionally
Tears of confusion and anguish as they cry
A small community remains shell shocked
The awfulness of it all is so hard to digest
The reasons why we'll never truly know
May your tormented soul now be at rest
12/ 09/ 2013
*A sad and true story, his children are in my son's school.
Thank you – Zamreen Zarook
Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.
Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.
People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.
Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.
I think feel a breeze
A breeze and a touch of horror
Something makes my breath seize
The stings of inner torture
The beast of the dark just passes
I hear the pings of its awfulness
Horrible snuffs complementing terrible masses
Something grip me here – oh fearfulness!
Now what – silence…
The quietness of the graveyard
I sense trouble in disguise
Only that worse turns bad
Oh wait, I can see
Slow approaches of eye balls
The burning eyes of the black beast
Monster, you, coming for me or my pulse
This is it my adventure fiasco
In the ever-dark ghost room
I would rather die like a hero
Behind this locked door with my rheum
As I’ll lay my back on this door
Oh beast feast, on me feast
I can hear quacks as I fall
…the door open at least
Massacre! Oh massacre of the beast
Sun ray-the enemy of the dark monster
Came in for its burnt feast
Because the door opened
Red is not for love, it’s dead.
The awfulness is such a dread.
Blood, the darkest form of red.
It makes me feel oh so dead.
Life gets sucked from within me
Death is thrown deep into me.
I glance down at the floor I stand.
A puddle of blood, not just a strand.
Puddle, bowl, ocean, sea…
Full of blood from you and me.
Myself, I do not wish to torment,
By watching this blood drop to the cement.
This is poetry for us all when you can’t find the words.
Acerbic, angry, awful is this poems dream.
Bad, boring, balderdash are its major themes.
Childish, contemptuous, cynical to the last;
Daft, dizzy, desultory meanings that are vast.
Egregious, extemporaneous and extra bad,
Foolish, futile, fantasy, that's pretty sad.
Garish, grotty, ghastly that’s the score,
Hogwash, horrible, haunted what a bore.
Idiotic innuendos of the lowest kind,
Jumping jeering, jesters come to mind.
Kinky, kooky killjoys everywhere,
Lamentable lamebrains, all without a care.
Muddled, mindless mutterings in the night,
Nutty, neurotic nuances come to light.
Obtruding oafs with highly opaque lenses,
Permeate our all pervading senses.
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