Best Aborts Poems
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
RUINS OF TRANSFORMATION
Hands hold, faces face
Eyes lock, bridge distance
Time stops in silent grace.
Hands hang, faces distort
Eyes glare, bridge burns
Past crashes, time aborts.
Minds close, hearts abrade
Egos blaze on identity incinerated
Pledges wreck, bonds degrade.
Road deserted in journey to isolation
Past keeps the future shrouded
Time rues the ruins of transformation.
Written : February 24, 2018.
March 27, 2020
Contest : Strand Choice R, Any Form Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Her expectation exits
through the door of a clinic.
Doctor aborts her request.
Odor of rotten emotions
spreads on her face.
Carrying without marrying
is the mother of shame.
Thorns in society prick her.
Blood oozes out
of the memory lane.
Yellow pineapple juice,
she drinks in vain.
Rustic notions fail in womb.
She takes roads with pits
hoping for ‘jerking abortion’.
Embryo of tension
grows everyday.
Her thoughts sweat.
Worries and queries
bulge out of her belly.
First published in Indian Ink.
truth, word play. silly, how I feel, spoken word, humour, food
PALINODES STOLEN To LIFE’S CHANGES!
I would like to say; this ‘palinode stolen from life’s trials and tribulations---
To what I have said before and I’ll say again; in all ‘ways’ it takes but two to tango!
Two sides are given to a story; one side right and one side wrong---
Two choices of turn ‘aborts’; either you’re in or you’re either you’re out…
When having to call:
“A spade is a spade’ and can be told,
either black or changed to white---with and to ‘no buts’ in between!
Calls can be heard or not heard….
Depending on the choice “to hear or not to hear’ ---
That is the question and which (calls to mind) of having a very ‘selective hearing’ answering with an neither ‘yay or a nay’---
What did you say, I can’t understand? I don’t hear you---
If I have told you once, I have told you twice.
Some seaweed we eat, and some seaweed we don’t eat!
Survival of the fittest begets a long stay or a short stay
And some seaweed shall be used for fodder!
Her expectation exits
through the door of a clinic.
Doctor aborts her request.
Odor of rotten emotions
spreads on her face.
Carrying without marrying
is the mother of shame.
Thorns in society prick her.
Blood oozes out
of the memory lane.
Yellow pineapple juice,
she drinks in vain.
Rustic notions fail in womb.
She takes roads with pits
hoping for ‘jerking abortion’.
Embryo of tension
grows everyday.
Her thoughts sweat.
Worries and queries
bulge out of her belly.
Fabiyas M V
(Indian Ink Magazine has published this poem)
Coming from the same plane.....
They start talking, he offers to buy her a drink which she agrees
A soft drink, it's just fanta
He shows her how to put the straw in through the lid
This is her first time using such fancy cups and lids
She is a new traveller, going for further studies
He had mentioned to her that he had already arrived to his destination, Amsterdam
But as he watches her, her shy eyes, always looking down at her drink
He suggests that they wash up after their drinks before "their next flight"
He mentions a couple of upscale rooms
She softly declines, she remembers her aunt's words to never trust anyone
This is the tourist, the man dressed in suit
The man that can smell an easy prey from far
He can smell new, naive and fresh as easily as he blinks his eyes
So many years later, the once little girl remembered the tourist
And wondered how much damage he must have caused on the shores of Mombasa during his tours, preying on poor innocent girls..
She stands at the mirror trying to straighten her short hair
He stands behind a little further watching her
Admiring her growing curves, his eyes move from her rounded bottom, to her hips and as she turns around (unaware of his presence), he continues his adventure to her chest.
This is the uncle that shamelessly buys his niece underwear
Very culturally inappropriate
He loves when she visits
This is the preteen girl, that hides a lot of this story, family can never know
This is the fifteen year old girl who goes to a 'back door clinic' and aborts
But she is not a little girl anymore, she is a well educated woman holding a phd
But with frequent relationships struggles
Once a week she goes for therapy, to help deal with her demons
Because someone messed her up
Continued............
Gobble gobble to and fro,
Meals prepared layed out for show,
Show thanks on this very day,
Coming once a year; then astray.
Roads become the one way ticket,
Families coome far to sit,
Around the table long or short,
Memories shared as the food aborts.
Munch, crunch, dinners served to each,
Turkey notes close at reach.
Open sayings to make one laught soft,
Stuffing ourselves; for later we'll loft.
As we gather them up in herds,
Food fresh; families close at heart,
Hearts at peace; giving thanks we start.
Give thanks for each and everything,
Give thanks for all the love each bring.
Plates so warm for most,
Turkeys' on the plate; as roast.
Time goes forward so keep all near,
Take each moment to share.
Share the holiday right here; right now,
As tomorrow snow may need a plow.
For Thanksgiving is one day long,
But Christmas is next in the song.
Wake up early to shop,
Clean up the table; take a mop.
Cheers to a new memory gone,
Look out front; Seeing the white filled lawn.
re post inspired by theme of Laura contest
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
BRIAN STRAND
Note
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
Each day an extension of my time
so each morning a risk and opportunity
to avoid greedy egocentrism
to step into harmonious eco-centered consciousness.
Each still-wombed entity extends Mother's incarnating time
so each maternal risk and opportunity,
each free will act of paternity,
aborts competitive egocentrism
by extending bipartisan consciousness,
wisdom's good faith fertility
for our co-operating future.
Each life extends time's enculturing memory
of secularizing risks
and sacred opportunities
avoiding evolution's monopolistic dead ends
by embracing revolution's polyculturing awareness.
Each moment incarnates maternity's wombed memory
of monoculturing risk and polypathic opportunity
to avoid deductive domination's severance
by mutually embracing
multi-paradigmatic synergy.
Time is a unitarian womb
and its omnipotence is universal!
Fathomlessly ubiquitous.
Like the double-binding revolutionary progenitor of all things.
Its smooth-structured boundaries resonating
prime relationship not-not tangles informing,
untying,
Its Earth tempered balance of enlightenment,
Its turmoil decomposing dissonant understories
Yet
like dark deep ecological flow
it sustains Earth's green/blue Commons.
I do not know whose holonic embryo
EarthTime fractally unfolds,
a 4-dimensional echo
of seasonal reincarnation
within bicameral communion.
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
Note
syllbic free verse style ,after Elizabeth Daryush
What kind of man would rape his Mother
What kind of man you are
What kind of man would kill his brother
What kind of man you are
Save his soul
Vile, low down, wretched sinful one
Where you coming from
Purposely wanderer wanting to harm
Hurt each and everyone, everyone warn, RUN
Determined to have your I'll gotten ways
Better stop choose right go left
Accept Jesus Christ
Amen
What kind of man abuses children,
What kind of man you are
You are of your father your daddy satan
You choose what you do
Your uncle Cain
You know the one who killed Abel
What kind of man destroys all his and yours
What kind of man steals from God
What kind of man you are
What kind of man implores evil for fun
Then turns laughs and runs
So what kind of man you are
What kind of man worship satan
What kind of man kills
When a man love is for real
What kind of man that's no, no, no what kind of man abuses his girlfriend
What kind of man you are
What kind of man cares only for his self, preservation
What kind of man makes his girlfriend the child in the womb aborts
What kind of man you are
07/07/74©1974, 2017
From demo cassette/LP "The World May End Tomorrow"
James Edward Lee Sr
The system aborts.
(Multiple organs failure)
A deviant art
of dying pompously.
I wish, I was on a -
moving floor, sailing
without a walk, looking at
the camouflaged ceiling.
The shrill voice of a whistle-
blower, mimics an opera.
I will snatch the words,
raw, from your lips.
It was here, in absence.
Your poesy, matter-of-factly.
Can you raise your voice
against the fall of the thing.
Satish Verma
Here silence reigns supreme all time,
And evening melts away
Into the night in distant sight
From where the locals stay.
The murmur of the grove distracts
My stiff and weary shin,
Yet they move on and trudge along
The dark and shady green.
There oft the sun departs so soon,
He creeps behind the hill,
His lustrous rays no more embrace
The woods with happy zeal.
A flight of birds are yet to steer
Back to their cozy niche,
Their sudden flap aborts the nap
Of a hare against its wish.
A cricket chirped moments ago
But now it drowsed certain,
The graveyard lies beneath the skies
Serene in twilight rain.
An olive spreads its drooping bough
Beside the muddy way
The dew and mist each other kissed,
While on a tuft I lay.
I viewed the farthest rock in mind
As if I dreamt a dream
Of spirits keen on being seen,
As volatile as steam.
I heard a mellow voice at once,
As sweet as a summer song,
It beckons me to the cemetery
I sauntered all along.
Never I felt my limbs so numb,
As though I levitate,
A mastiff howls to the parted souls,
Who love to emanate.
What have I seen, it steeps my mind
With a never-presumed state,
The knights and reverends upward soar
To blame their sorry fate.
Most lonely I assumed myself,
I now see a lonelier face,
Or is my mind of reason blind
That views a captive race?
Tonight I will converse with you,
Upon your flowers I sleep,
The marble frame protects your name,
Where softly I shall weep.
22nd September, 2021
Disarmed and helpless
you inched in my soul
I was drawn in your spirits
that metallic laugh
and curvy body graph
your hairs, wavy brown
adorned your equisite face like crown
when you smiled
you had me more bewitched and beguiled
they say this lasts for short
and it kind of usually aborts
this time they were wrong
you had really hit upon my inner gong
the day I held your hand
I have never wanted to leave this stand
you have become a habit
that is deep in me
without it I feel half
and may be less
sometimes
soul gels
get blessed !
The Devil's wife
The Church of God is the bride of Christ
Therefor the false church is the bride of Satan
Are you the Devil's wife?
Answer the question
Yet your words mean nothing
Your actions prove the truth
Show your nature, God will judge
The Devil's wife
Crying for peace she kills her brothers
Declaring love she aborts her children
Deceit at its finest
I've met her;
She was friend at school
I reported to her at work
She goes to church every week
The Devil's wife
with her selfish drive
Her false zeal and concern
She has proven her vanity
There are but two choices
The bride of Christ
The bride of Satan
Where do you stand?