The Big House
I could not live in a house with many people
Voices at all hour of the day, no privacy, the precious moment
When the world rolls slower, and I can hear time`s clock tick
In a house full of people, there is a din of violence to come
And whispering sin at night
Flushing toilets, subbing feet
The tears of the misbegotten, those who are cheated on
Drunken brawl screams and police sirens.
TV that is full of banalities
Every news program feels the same, recycled from the same supplier, adding to the sense of sameness and dullness that fills the house.
To live in a house full of people must be very lonely
With no time for reflection
On a warm, dew-weakened day,
Watching the grey void of a lost
Sense, anxious moments recline
On whiffs of ancestral propitiations
When rafters regain possession of
Filched roast fish, balanced with
The fumes of a wild dance heckled
By chokes of a chagrined weekend.
Who rises faster than smokes of a
Low tar, ascending
Gently,
Whimsically,
Lazily,
With rings of white life
Extinguished through banalities,
Through clamoured waste? . . .
Such rise — gay, sensuous rise
Of the thin beam,
Goes with every thread of meaning
Long since posted on the banner of
Meaningful dreams.
The Voice of the People
The morning is excellent and calm
I try to write about the feeling I have inside me,
But can only come up with a feeling
of boredom, that comes when looking out of the window
too often and see that nothing has changed.
I don't want to live here anymore, but I'm fearful
of the unknown – being outside my comfort zone-
Even if it is tedious, I find the world scary,
a cacophony of a vulgar scream
That comes with unbridled democracy, everyone
They have the right to be loud when they should be quiet
or speak in a sotto voce
When they can only produce banalities
Thinking has to be approved by the masses, and
Those who call themselves liberal
HOOGSTRATEN
eyecatching
interiors
DALI
bizarre
banalities
DUCHAMP
basic
necessities
TWINKU a double word distich with integral title
Remember this poets, drink wine,
It is not talent that is important,
It is to have heart, drink wine,
Offer a drink to a friend or student
Make your friends, young and new, cry
Speaking of the primroses you offer,
Speaking of the water lilies in a famous museum,
Tearing all your uncertain poems,
See, this poem has little interest, let’s drink wine instead,
It is made of banalities without emotions, jewels thrown,
What I forgot when I wrote is to address you,
To have heart, to tell you of my loves,
Remember this poets, drink wine, admire your mother
Those who speak to you, hold you captive,
It takes a great silence virgin, the friendship of Mark Aurel
That the soul may walk in the snow,
Alone. Come with me. Come with me.
Drink wine. *
* with moderation and humour
The poet, like many in education’s grip,
Faces another summer with pockets stripped.
In Eckes’s poem, two forms meet face to face:
The unemployment office, a dreary place.
Insults and banalities fill its lines,
An object of necessity, far from fine.
The poetic form stands firm and tried,
Resisting demands that are not true.
No easy answers will I provide,
Humor and pleasure within I hide.
Despite my state of what is real,
I dare to dream, to think, to feel.
As the poem now unfolds, it starts to show why most can't show.
The life that’s possible, the seeds that grow.
Not just survival, but living free,
Beyond what the bureaucratic form can see.
I have captured the struggle, the raw, the true,
The grim realism of what poets go through.
In the clash of ink, a truth is found,
In poetry’s embrace, my heart's unbound.
The truth moment
Memories are broken mirrors on
which the sun shines
the enduring illusion
sprinkled with the rest of my childhood
The dreamy imagined what ensued
or was at the time
kismet no one could foresee
Past and future pain him; he shall not see his orchard
no pictures exist he, fell off his bike
no longer a hero on a scooter
What he knows is inaccessible happiness
like a fairytale
another illusion killed stone dead.
His banalities were like trying on a great man’s shoes
Autumnal reflection
This is beautiful autumn, with no rain, no wind and no heat
soothing calm telling nothing about coming storms.
South Korea has solved the problem of what is needed
garish colours, mass banalities and predictable music.
In Ukraine, reckless defender of democracy plays roulette
artillery fire near a nuclear plant; a Russian game of taunt
EU has played all the cards, oblivious of people's concerns
living in fear of mass revolt by the starving and the freezers.
Let the coal plants roar as polar melts and coastal cities
sink beneath the sea and idiotic gender misunderstanding.
Oh, what beautiful autumn oak leaves softly fall
enjoy the shortening of time before the onset of winter.
Like calm breezes sweep through the trees,
The silent voices of God caress our souls
Sometimes with a rustle that startles us
Reminding us again who is at the controls.
When least we expect a jolt of awareness
Comes into our minds, a sense of presence,
Reminding of a force greater than ourselves
Renewing understanding of divine essence.
When those moments come, we reflect
Facing the reality of our certain immortalities
And, vowing to make the most of our time,
We begin to set aside our vain banalities.
written March 1, 2022
Crossed lines
Why are quiet evenings not enough
the mind will not slow down or make sense
in the blinking light of thoughts.
Wine is of no use the brain turns into ruby.
I must hurry, catch thoughts before they
turns into banalities.
The night waits for me to articulate the mystery of art.
I have to nail down words that are always
a bit paler than the ones thought of.
Once again, I have given birth to an ugly duckling
but I will not send them into the abyss of delete,
I will wait till they can walk unaided before sending
them into the world.
Hemispheric balance
We sing the sum of its parts
mindfully engaged
Left—concrete banalities
Right—creative dimensions
fixity or flux
in the
evasion of monotony
a linear turn
to integrity
in phrasal inflections
scanning language
in signature verse
internal sounds
made prominent with
divergent voices
random shapes
on the
theatre of the page
circumstance
leavened by
understanding
at points of departure
into floods
of the experimental
in a inherent
impulse
an antithesis
of the
ambivalent
dislocated
by emotion
distracted by
banalities
sesoned with tradition
a spontaneous
cycle of seasons
the heritage
of life blooms
a sentiment
of trees
in a rare
but natural voice
eternally alive
in an annual
renaissance
of precedents
where
caution passes by
style detours in disguise
shameless
in deceit
sly&aloof
prudence laid aside
a
transfigured folly
yet
volatile
& naive
an antecedent
of
a
genteel
future
fixity or flux
in the
evasion of monotony
a linear turn
to integrity
in phrasal inflections
scanning language
in signature verse
internal sounds
made prominent with
divergent voices
random shapes
on the
theatre of the page
circumstance
leavened by
understanding
at points of departure
into floods
of the experimental
in a inherent
impulse
an antithesis
of the
ambivalent
dislocated
by emotion
distracted by
banalities
sesoned with tradition
a spontaneous
cycle of seasons
the heritage
of life blooms
a sentiment
of trees
in a rare
but natural voice
eternally alive
in an annual
renaissance
of precedents
where
caution passes by
style detours in disguise
shameless
in deceit
sly&aloof
prudence laid aside
a
transfigured folly
yet
volatile
& naive
an antecedent
of
a
genteel
future
A tonic for the soul on this fine day
To quit the ruminations of the mind,
Let barren walls to nature's lure give way
And leave life's dull banalities behind.
This is an extract from my poem 'My therapeutic place' written for 'Nature scene orphan sonnet poetry contest' : sponsored by Dale Gregory Cozart
Arbitrium Divisa 2 Poetry Contest: Sponsored by Gregory R. Barden
23.06.19
A tonic for the soul on this fine day
To quit the ruminations of the mind,
Let barren walls to nature's lure give way
And leave life's dull banalities behind.
On bended knees I loosen stubborn ground
And tackle weeds too long allowed to roam.
A robin takes a furtive look around
In search of worms to bring back to his home.
Above, the tranquil sky is azure blue
And chiffon clouds are swiftly giving chase.
Red roses burst with stunning bloom anew
Entrancing with their fragrant sweet embrace.
The garden takes my worldly cares away;
A tonic for the soul on this fine day.
20.05.19
Garden Inspirations Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
'Nature scene orphan sonnet poetry contest' : sponsored by Dale Gregory Cozart
Favourite Poem From May, 2019 Poetry Contest : sponsored by Julia Ward
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