"Seize the day, then let it go" - Marty Rubin.
I capture the first chirp of the bird in admiration.
My heart merges with it. My hands fold in adoration.
The color-changing beams of the morning sun, like prisms, spread
Varnished Verses from my heart, like waterfalls, flow ahead.
The mist dip mesmerizes. The clement breeze caresses.
The untimely rain cools. Thunder, as though throat-blocked, hisses.
Amidst decomposing mango-neem-jack leaves, banyans sprout.
Amidst the sun’s hide-and-seek, shades shred their tinges throughout.
Each bloom tells me tales. Each bee and fly mimes a moral.
Thoughts, words, and deeds, like meadows, seem flowerily aural.
I see soul in each grain. Each drop of water brims with life.
Doesn't here, between good and evil, creep a constant strife?
Like lilies of the field and birds of the air, I feel free.
Why, about an imaginary act, should I worry?
Each split second of an hour has a universe within.
I know that failing to feel this fact within is a sin.
Categories:
banyans, life, time,
Form: Carpe Diem
Her pink okra fingers play violoncello,
Rises from her harmonic throat songs so mellow;
Is she a swallow? A skylark? A Nightingale?
Or the Greek goddess Calliope's sweet-sounding tale...?
An amalgamation of Bach and Beethoven,
Splays open, in and through her, like a vast ocean;
Piano, cello, bass guitar, and percussion,
Her heart and hands try all with perfect precision...!
Venomous feelings of infantile memories,
Childhood and adulthood draperies of worries;
Mushroom-like or monsoon creatures-like resentments,
Repetitions of termite-eating sentiments...
Like palms or banyans or olives Beth Hart withstood,
Worries and cares, though, continued as wild Redwood;
Grim hurt, anger, embarrassment, and frustration,
Could all these, yet, crash her creative causation...?
Rocks and boulders and hard hills, and mountains she breaks,
Earthquakes and volcanoes of destructions she shakes;
"Screamin' for My Supper", "LA Song (Out of This Town)",
Midst best melodic arts, Beth has her laurel crown...!!!
08 May 2023
Beth Hart Inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Rhymes Checked At: Rhymes Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Categories:
banyans, life, music, people, song,
Form: Rhyme
Scars Left Behind
As a slave I was a product of the broker,
and a commodity as a result of the purchaser.
Both of them made me to be,
valuable and hunted like honey bee.
Hunting and ambushed done in the village,
killing and plundering had become prestige.
As children and women when left died,
I was taken with others and then caravanned.
The Chief and Mtemi had war waged,
For Guns and Cloths were then paid.
The Banyans of India paid the capital,
Whilst Arab of Oman set the arrival.
Some servant some prisoners all were slaved,
With Ivory on shoulders but all day walked.
From Katanga and Malavi to coastal wealthy,
Bagamoyo and Kilwa we laid our sympathy.
Hundred and million were shipped forever,
The Arabs and Whites snatched our mother.
And slavery life had became our song,
Plantation and domestication had been our belonging.
Some died some survived with loosing hearts,
A misery generation maintained the scars.
In the neighboring land with pain results,
As was racist, hardworking with broken hearts.
LUCAS ALEX MKUDE poem.
Categories:
banyans, sympathy,
Form: Ballad