Best All But Poems
In this world and in this life
(Are we all just another number)
A tax statistic or
a corporation's itemized figure.
There are of the pluses and negatives.
The accounting of the additions and then the subtractions.
These are the balance sheets of life.
This is with "gains, and losses."
Is that the higher plan for mortal man
existence on this dusty earth?
A salary, or no salary.
A bank account, or no accounts.
Zeros and Ones, 1, 0.
Added together are they supposed to be fine gold?
A man’s worth weighed
on a numbered scale of more or less.
Were we created to be only digital number notations?
Numbers in hourglasses filled with very fine earthly sand.
Grains of sand running then emptying,
into the canvas of time.
This of dusty dust: yet, not solely returning to the ground.
For, we are very, very much, much more: than that ever seen.
"Yes, not solely just numbers indeed!"
How easily you return,
Within this mind's hindsight,
Never knowing how the swelling,
Gaping hole of your absence,
Weighs me down heavily,
With the confusion of your presence
In my dreams...
I crave substance,
Though well be my visions and tastes,
Vibrant...real be this cruel shape before me,
With voice like readying thunder,
And eyes plotting my defeat,
Ready to touch and redeem my soul
See how long control has fled from me,
As every fiber of my being convulses
With a grief none shall ever feel
And only hear of...
You can tell me to wake up,
To face reality,
To cope with the passionate eruption of these killer dreams...
But I will not hear you,
Or any being who dares to force me out of this trance--no,
I will not hear you
When the thunder claps
And my soul writhes against your grasp
You can scream at me,
Call me a fool with no substance,
You can shake me with the quaking ire
Of your controlled authority,
Though I will stay here,
Like unbreathable air
With monomaniac devotion
My future became threadbare then,
Lost in the desire of my eager grasp
The force of hot feelings flowing against ancient, chilled iceburgs
We once were untouched,
Ummovable,
Yet free
And once I tasted your fire,
Freedom has become all but a dream...
‘ Constructive-Criticism … (An Oxymoron, For All But A Few) ’
Constructive-Criticism Is Good, It’s True
But, I’ve Only Seen It Used Properly, By A Few …
‘Cause, One Thing I Know, That I Have Seen
‘Some’ Use Criticism, Just To Be Mean …
Then, The Term Should Be: Destructive-Criticism
‘Cause, They Ain’t Even Getting Paid! … To Spout Poison In ‘Em
I Know Then, They Want To Abuse, in Jealous-Individualism
So, Maybe, They Need An Enema, or Have An Embolism
Coming Up (or while under Construction) I Was Told
And The Engineer-Advice, Was As Good As Gold
‘ If You Can’t Say Something Nice, Don’t Say Nothing’ At All’
So, I Don’t Bomb Somebody’s Building, Just To Watch Them Fall
Constructive-Criticism, Don’t Sic That Dog On Me
Take It and Go Bark-Up, Somebody Else’s Tree
Take A Look At Your Own, Before You Tell Me What’s Wrong
You Know What You Can Do With That … (and The Horse You Rode On)
And In The Words of ‘Tom Snyder’, (The Idea I Relate):
“Just ‘Cause I Think Somebody’s Trying To Kill Me … Don’t Mean They Ain’t!”
And, If You Don’t Like My Building, There’s The Door, Walk Away
I Don’t Need You Cutting Down, My Structure of What I Say
And If Negative-Criticism, Is Under Construction ... That’s A Front !
When Have You Ever Heard of Something Negative, Building-Up ?
Maybe Somebody Dropped Them On Their Head As A Child
But That’s No Excuse To Criticize, Somebody Else, or Their Style
And that ' True ', for A Few, I Meant at The Beginning
Here Are The Ones, I Accept Their Condescending:
GOD … Loved-Ones … Close Friends … (and Me)
‘Cause I Am My Own Worst-Critic, You See …
Constructive-Criticism, That’s an “””Oxymoron”””
And Look How That Word Is Spelt … Hon
(I Prefer The Term: Commentator ( Cause I Love to Comment ! )
‘Cause I Want To Polish Your Metal, Without Leaving A Dent
The aggress surrenders
But death lingers
Impeded by damned souls
Clutching to their final breath
The flailing limbs
Now lethargic
Severed, scattered
Men languished
Not by will, but war
A storm of clouded judgement
Summoned by the tyrannic gods of war
With cryptic intent
But greedily akin
Riddled beyond sin
A relentless hail of gore
An ocean for pawns to drown in
And the kings with battleships
To rule absolutely
Remorseless beyond doubt
Or second thoughts
Behold the mighty catharsis
Cleansing of the weak armed,
The weak willed,
The weak minded,
Blindly follow the call
In hopes of glory
Or in a mindless delusion of good will
Hopes and dreams gone amiss
A lingering kiss
From those who care
Does he dare
To kiss back?
Was he not already dead
The moment they lied to him?
What good is living free,
Without a life to lead?
Freedom from this cursed realm
Full of pain and grievance
Is that what they spoke of?
Freedom of a kind
But not near as welcome as the other
All but few, cease to live
Those who yearn to live
The man who cherish thy loved ones
And hold them close
Need not be sad nor morose
And they be not cowards
For the braver man fights his anger
And sees from other eyes
Unbeknownst to him
He listens to reason
Not accuse brothers of treason
Or cowardice for doing what is true
Would you?
For a wise man once said
“No”, and lost his head
Hello everyone! There is going to be a 2nd part to Entertainment real soon. Stay tuned! Thanks:)
Don’t be discouraged
Don’t be doubtful
Don’t be disheartened
Be happy, not mad
Be humble, not proud
Be quiet, not loud
Be merciful, not condemning
Be cheerful, not anxious
Be glad, not envious
Hello
Hello
I feel insecure
I see your halo
A cloud of a windy blow
I’m feeling brilliant
Can’t say I’m excellent
Perhaps, insignificant
I can’t even say a simple hello to my friends behind me
I’m just an outlandish, bittersweet introvert all over again
Spreading my mental wings of set-me-free
Be my grace…
Fading like your face…
Caught without a trace
Hello
How have you been?
I’ve seen the unseen
Oh wait…
I hesitate…
I can’t breathe…
I’m at ease…
My mind is a castle on a train
So high and so low…can’t refrain
From driving y’all insane…
All to numb the lucky pain
Inside me…
Inside you…
However, fear is far behind me
Hope and cheer is what I want and need
I need to nourish it like my itty-bitty seed
I feel like fainting a five hundred million miles from you
I feel like tainting your fingers with my blood of residue
I am a quiet cello in your sleep
I am that crippled fiend…A creep…
Only to find light on the other side of the sun…
I’m somewhat like an extrovert
Extending my mind’s flimsy, flowery frame
Pulling out envy's weed…what’s your name?
I hurt like an expert, wearing your blue shirt
Basically, my nightmare became a reality
Frankly, my eyes shower and my gaze is but a coward
Mind control got me in its web of lies…hardly…
Lately, my numb cranium is releasing dangerous defeat…I’m flying and soaring like a blue bird…
I’m an empty page…
Okay, I am enraged by being in this cage
Of my skin…of your distress…
Of your sin…you’re just trying to impress
Strangely, I feel old age creep on me –
Awkward
I can trust in my illuminating instincts
It’s misfortunate that I’m so nervous
I see wondrous winks and chinks
Extremely battered…
Nothing else matters…
Brain-scattered…
I hear silence and its purrs
Yeah, my bro…my wild bro
He is the only friend I’ll be hanging out with
For the rest of my life though
I always mix up reality and fantasy and myth
When the bout of loneliness
Strikes unawares
How I long
For a hand to hold on
How I wish
For life to go on
Trembling for a while
But steadying myself
Curbing my feelings
Groping in the darkness
I see a thin line of hope
Briefly I stop
Its the minds game
For there's no line
Nor hope.
© Nadiya (15 Jan '15)
Form:
In the catalogue of my heart’s library
A word I scribe, magical and unitary
In the garden of my emotional culinary
I plant , I nurture, I prune a topiary
In the bouquet of my life’s choicest flowers
One adorable,I place above all the towers
In the album of my sweetest memories
One ‘s too dear to me than the treasuries
In the atlas of maps of my mind
A solo destination fruitful I find
In the orchestra of my life’s tunes
An enchanting melody to me allures
In the fleet of ships with my decisions ‘cargo
One to me is fair and free from embargo
In the chandelier of my life’s surprises
One thrilling to me hypnotizes
In the pool of my dreams and desires
One realized, lit up the bonfires
In the blend of the aroma that mystifies
One fragrance stands out with poise
In the box of life’s tempting chocolates
One trust-worthy tastes and melts with grace
In the cemetery, when life ends,I am laid to rest
I wish, I pray that its me first and you be next!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak, 2016
Jaded to the bone,
Wayward since birth.
Where could this broken being find joy?
Truth?
Happiness?
Dare I say love?
There’s a place,
Of clear waters,
Beautiful beings,
Songs in the air,
Playing in my head.
That island of fantasy.
Family is there,
All those you love,
All but him.
The one I need.
Is it worth it?
All that magic?
Do I belong there?
I can’t stand it,
This beauty that surrounds me,
I want to be jaded,
Confused and hindered,
But by his side.
I don’t need it.
He’s the island I need.
The island I love.
My very own,
Island of fantasy.
Two thieves were hanging
Next to the Christ
One on his left
One on his right
One was ungrateful
For his lot in life
The other repentant
Remember me in paradise
They each had that moment
To open their hearts
One thought it best
The other thought not
One thief was saved
The other one lost
One knew the price
Counting the cost
Knowing it's never too late
To invite Jesus in
Just do it before the day
You've reached the end
He told me one day
that he used to have
a thing for this headstrong
smart and independent girl
whom he used to take walks with
at odd hours of the day
and that he used to dream
about waking up next to her
and as he painted this picture
in my head, I saw her
and I thought to my self
I used to know that girl
She and I used to have
great talks and she used
to have radiant eyes
but now they are sunken
and dry
because she spent nights
thinking about all he does
and about he gave all
but the one thing
she longed for
and how gentle and intimate
he can be
and also scared
and webbed in his past
She spent mornings
watching him sleep
and whispering to him
all that she couldn't
to his listening ear
She wanted him
She wanted all with him
but he seemed conflicted
and every time they talked
it was with unfinished sentences
and chosen words
caving from the real ones
but she drew her heart out
and dictated its desires
and every time she looked at me
her reflection haunted me
because its all I see
each time i peek into the mirror
Form:
All but these bonds who forged ironies chain's being His servant, you are the Lord's freeman for their labor of love is not in vain Painters of mercy to the colorless lands slaves for freedom persuading the sublime captured by a noblier cause before kings The apostle Paul bound for Rome like a sign the bird still sings even with caged wings strive they to make all men free the good news like Wheatley's colonial seeds sown afresh a black slave woman with a poetical point All men are created equal all men need the savior Men can never earn merit for that which He anoints The loving Lord Jesus with His forgiving favor broke the dark bondage of sin and death's hold Rejoicing in the gift gained men can live in iron chains given freedom of life's breathe they can speak bold
we are all but one
varied colours and hues
countless creeds
trudging down alone
the world's avenues
yet the strands that bind us
together as one
reach far too deep within our collective soul
as we amble on underneath our soiltary sun
we are all but one
one body of humankind
with a shared yearning for love
and peace
shelter
and companionship
food
clothing
and above all
hope
that ever burning furnace
that rages inside each woman and man
hope
that somehow, some way, someday, something will for the better emerge
and we may then cease
to sing our mournful dirge
for hope shall triumph
now or in some distant tomorrow
and hope shall be victorious
over the dread and gloom and hate and pain and days of achingly deep sorrow
so we can rise up and lift our heads
and stare into the blooming of a new dawn
a dawn of victorious hope
and of peace and of light
dispelling the darkness of ignorance
ushering us all into the fields of the future
to behold the glorious and the truth of real freedom's awe-inspiring sight
Form:
Early dawn in rainy days,
your song warms us all.
But Crow once said from her nest,
O' cuckoo! You are cleverst of all;
I am upset by the games you play;
Lay your eggs in my nest,
and disappear at once,
with no sign of theft;
misdeed not ends here,
kills all my eggs when hatched;
Yet world loves you and says,
you are prettiest among of all;
Your sweetest tongue,
displays not what inside you are;
Does this imply sweet speakers,
sometimes poisonous inside?
With sweetest voice captivate,
For use then throw;
as bagasse is thrown after extracting juice;
You should be sweet not cunning inside,
Sweet tongue is slogan of world,
a lessson to all learn and behave...
O' cuckoo! song you sing is sweetest of all...
But not clean from inside...
© Sadashivan Nair
What is truth that I so long?
What but black and white?
Is it a word, a voice, a song,
A silent breaking light?
What the outcry of my soul
If no more than a dream?
Why my ever-waking though
If all be as it seem?
To define would bring to end,
Yet I know what I seek.
Within a heart, these words so drift --
Now and then, they speak.
I have come to listen close,
I have come to find
Oh, these ever-waking eyes --
I am all but blind.
I never learnt the right way to love,
As if there were a formula ensuring success.
So now I’m playing it by ear,
Picking things up as I go.
Without the Sun, should it forget to rise tomorrow,
I will learn to live in the shade.
And if the Earth grows tired of turning,
I’ll learn to lead a still life.
If each star, dying, failed to shine,
I could un-learn my constellations and cast away my telescope.
But without you, what is worth learning?
Who would teach me?
For better, worse, forever, a part of you is all of me,
And all I see in an uncertain, unstructured future,
Is you. Being my structure, strength, and certainly mine.