Best Allegorical Poems
An immigrant nation
Imprisoning immigrants
Not equally born or not born
Of its natives and considered
Criminals is indeed oxymoronic
In a country founded by immigrants
Thru usurping and uprooting indigenous
People of their bordered lands
And nearly extincting them
Via hue-skin oppression
In a supposedly new found nation
Baptized with the the blood of those
Who simply became natives of a new
Claimed land that would no longer be theirs
Saved their newly assigned residential bordered
Land areas whose nourishing earth-grounds
Were later re-stolened in oxymoronic thanksgiving
Thus today’s oxymoronic musky trumped oligarchy
Should be no surprise to those who have survived
All the worst that has preceded our present day
Mayflowering defecation on democratic equality;
As with previous oppressive demonic political oppression
Let us dawn our liberating-overalls and get to work on
The new needed political repairs required to flush
Down political oppression over the coming years
In our continuous fight to be truly liberated
From any and all oxymoronic tuslated
Oligarchical power-mongering
Trumped political governing
Now being live streamed
And televised, 24-7:
Counter-revolution
Against us!
P.S.: Always be aware that liberation must be
Fought for and won and is never given;
Likewise let power never be bought:-
TO AN ALLEGORICAL BREEZE OF NATURE
(Apropos Of A Warm Breath Of Air)
A sweet summer breeze;
An aromatic delight:
God’s warm exhaled breath:-
My our world’s lungs soon be filled
With God’s inhaled peace and love.:-
Oxygenated
In God’s warmth, let’s seek building
A oneness nation:-
AN ALLEGORICAL COCOON LESSON
(APROPOS OF POLLING)
In preparation, ants are moulding
And stacking their mounds; in hives,
Bees reflect collective oneness
In the sweetness of their unity;
And in high distant places, black
Widows meticulously spin their webs,
While honing hornets harden their nests:-
Cocooned in political and economic darkness,
Let us not be dismayed, apathetic sojourners;
Remember, while caterpillars are entombed
To be no more, their cocoon eventually opens
And out soars a liberated beautiful butterfly:-
Let us be as the butterfly, as we powerfully soar
With flapping vote-casting wings gliding us
Towards full liberation in our political sojourn.
In preparation, ants are moulding and stacking
Their mounds, while in hives, bees are reflecting
The collective oneness in the sweetness of unity;
With voting power, let us likewise reflect such
Sweetness of unity in power-based rendering:-
AN ALLEGORICAL MATH LESSON
(Rational And Irrational Numbers)
1.
Rational numbers,
And irrational numbers,
Teach many lessons:
Allegorical lessons,
On the living of our lives:-
2.
We must live rationally;
Living irrationally sucks:
Swallowing life’s goals:-
That teasing “pie in the sky”,
Must be assessed by squaring
With God’s sage divine wisdom,
And His repeating guidance:-
3.
Thus, always strive to be
In logical reasoning
With ourselves, and with others:-
With deception all wiped out,
And all wrong things put aside,
Always seek to do what’s right:-
once
again
the warmth
of sunshine
showered my being
awakening the inkwell of mind
overflowing in musing contemplations
of allegorical messages
of a fertile womb
of mind seeking to inoculate
others against infectious
lies of deceit
sowing apathtic seeds towards
empty scales of justice
and plowing
that pandemic-abracadabra
oppressor syndrome
that we must uproot
in the awareness
of ancient poetic-tragedies
being a thing of the past
and that we must be even stronger
than that ancient survivor*
whose torched memory
ignites burning spears
of seasonal reaities
shaping the fall
of winter-like discontentment
ushering in the springing
of our rooted renewed
liberating spirits...
*Othello
Once again we’re wedged in a wrinkle
of time in our lives; a wrinkle that can’t
be so easily ironed out and pressed away.
Yet the ironing board of solutions remain up
and challenging steam continues to gush out;
however, conflicting political sizing complicates
the strained ironing out process…stalling progress.
Those of us familiar with social distance look on
in curious awe at the pandemonium of the social elite
sanitizing and quarantining themselves from each other.
Meanwhile, let us not be remiss nor dismayed by the
present dilemma; let us give it inherent attention; for
before modernity, our ancestors—the help—the hidden
numbers—laid out and taught us ingenious methods
of smoothing out nagging wrinkles inhibiting our progress.
Thus, let us not forget to remember those under the mattress
techniques designed to keep us healthy and strong in our journey
along the wrinkling road towards all-inclusiveness in this nation’s
pursuit of happiness through social, economical and political equality.
©millardlowe, 2020
In a mishmash of the ubiquitous
Consonants peppered with vowels
Thoughts flow as my hypergraphia grows
Building fireworks of prose
Upon scraps; line or unlined sheets
With a restrictive verse
I the Poeter can be quite terse
A thought provoking reshaper
A tessellation of text into rows
As this near Rondeau Prime is set to close
Lest, we not fail to mention semivowels
With the aforementioned in mind; it was never meant to be obliquitous¹
02-03JUL18
¹ exhibiting or characterized by obliquity²
² an obscure or confusing statement
Living and dying,
juxtaposed realities;
life's cradles and graves:-
Be not like fall leaves,
Dehydrated and in dry dirt;
Be as frothing waves…
IN AND OF SPELLBOUNDING AWARENESS
Pondering the journey,
It was as if God had
Put a spell on us
Until reality revealed
The truth of glorifying
Awareness of holy blessings
Of faithful determination
To mount the bucking
Stallion of oppression
And break out
Of the shackled corral
That fenced us in,
Without justice, equanimity,
And freedom,
Giving the devil power
To abort laboring birth
Of our liberation:-
Enlightened, we‘re now galloping,
With charioting forces
Over mountains, rivers, and seas,
Roping and challenging
All past and present vestiges,
Of that particular institution
That once imprisoned
Our ancestors,
And we shall no longer
Be victims of the shadowed spell
Cast upon us
By the devil’s wickedness,
For we are freed
From his mental shackles
And now control
Our own destiny
To justice and
Liberty:-
Indeed, “...a new natural mystic
Is blowing..,
And we are breathing
The air of its liberation,
Energized and directed
With audacious power—
Within and without—
To demonstrate and prove
That our Black Lives Matter
To us and the world;
For a new day
Is upon the horizon
With the rising sun
Arching Earth’s skies
With rainbowing liberation:-
So, wake up, America!
A new mystic air is blowing,
And there is no mountain
So high
Or valley so
Low
Where bigotry
Racism and fascism
Can hide or abide:
Where the air is filled
With awareness,
Peace and love,
Fools of darkness,
And oppression,
Cannot breathe:-
On earth, God rules,
Heals and chastises,
Leaving fools roaming aimlessly
In the confusion down yonder:
Unmasked in the heated slime
And fumes of His retribution:-
Thus, let us not be spellbound,
But nourish in the wisdom of
Of the truth: “Be not deceived;
God is not mocked…whatsoever
A man soweth, that shall he reap.”
Let us continue to struggle
With audacious, triumphant faith
With our eyes stayed on the prize—
Sipping from the saucer of grace—
As our cup of grace continues to overflow
From generation to generation to come:-
CRUCIFIED RESURRECTED TREE
Sage crucified tree,
gray, and buck naked, granted
spring's resurrection...
Dust shrouds the peeling varnish on the old church pew as Noah
(first of his namesake, last of his namesake) thumbs an overripe
orange in his patchwork coat pocket. The preacher, made an obelisk
by distance and light looms against the marble cross, stark
fragmented, like bullet holes through white fencing.
He speaks.
“Every Living Thing Has A Soul And Should Be Treated As Such.”
Noah knows not of this. He knows of the orange in his patchwork coat pocket
and the preacher, made an obelisk by distance and li—
His mother pulls him outside of himself, her firm hand guiding his awkward steps.
Noah was to go fishing with his father this afternoon.
The riverbank slants downward, the red clay retreating from Noah’s newly
polished Church shoes. Silence is expanded upon by his Father, who kills
the worm, contorted, tied, twisted, and fitfully impaled to be sacrificed (For Lunch).
Noah knows not of this. He knows of his mother, her firm hand guiding,
the riverbank slanting downwa—
“Paw is it true these worms got souls?” / Yes, Son”
“Why’re we killin’ ‘em? / We’ve got to eat”
“Can’t we eat without killin’? / You want to eat a live fish?”
“Can we eat somethin’ else? / If we were richer”
“Won’t we go to hell for killin’? / Some killing has to happen”
“If we were rich, would we have to kill? / Probably not, Son”
“Do only the rich go to heaven?”
Noah’s father did not say this, but this is what he understood.
The rich build their heaven on earth out of precious metals
And fleeting pride, but heaven can only be found
in death
and in death, the worms you killed,
the fish you ate, the woman you love,
the brother you fought, and the sun you worship
will run
to greet
you like
your child
the morning
of your birthday.
AN UNMOCKED ALLEGORICAL FLASHBACK
When we were young and growing up,
Granny said that all things have a seed,
And that every seed produces its own
Things to be reaped: good or bad:-
At the time, it was hers and the bible study
Lesson to be taught and remembered; however,
At that time, I didn’t get the full allegorical meaning
Of what she was saying: good or bad:-
Now, at this time of grey hair and aged awareness,
I finally realize and know that we all scatter and sow
Seeds—either to the flesh or to the spirit—and what
Is reaped, is according to that which we freely sow.
Now, as I look out over our urban fields, I
Realize that many moons ago, oppressive-syndrome
Bigoted sowers came like plowing evil in the night,
Scattering chaining seeds of corruption everywhere:-
Some fell into the holes of our so-called paved streets;
Some fell into the many cracks of our rock-laid sidewalks;
Some fell into the gutters and were washed around our homes;
Some fell even around the wet soil of our leaking water pumps:-
From these seeds we’ve reaped Black-on-Black crime misery;
From these seeds we’ve reaped Black Families falling apart;
From these seeds we’ve reaped Black apathy and its depression;
From these seeds, we’ve destroyed each other physically and mentally;
From these seeds, we’ve done the oppressors’ harvesting of our demise.
Now is the time to replow our domestic fields with plows of change;
Now is the time to rid our domestic fields, uprooting sown evil seeds;
Now is the time to release those kidnapped chained into new-day slavery;
Now is the time to wage hell against all forces that still seek to destroy us!
Come! Let us get ready my people; the harvest season is dawning;
Come! Let us get ready my people; the coming harvest is plentiful;
Let us get ready my people; time to take back the stolen gift of freedom;
Let us get ready my people; freedom’s vision awaits its due reality:-
Let us get ready my people; reapers must be as equal as is the harvest!
OF ALLEGORICAL SAGE TREES
Oh, those sage trees,
Symbolic reflectors
Of God’s enlightenment—
Some, a hundred-plus feet high’
Others, just as old in age:-
Throughout the seasons of the year,
These sage trees canvass life’s stroll:
Trials, tribulations, and redemptions;
Allegorically, hinting rooted thoughts
Of Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection—
Reflecting the navigation of God
Through the seasons of lived life:
Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer:-
May the allegorical lessons
Of sage trees, forever be for us,
A living part of our divine wisdom
And sacred guidance awareness,
As we journey the daily courses
Of our life’s rising and setting suns:-
Hey, who would have ever thought,
That sage trees, often taken for granted,
Would be so rooted and solidly trunked
With such allegorical contemplations?
A beggar grabbed my hand and cried for some spare change.
At first, I offered him a sweet memory of food or a tasteless sip of divine water, but he asked for money.
I had a heavy coin and gave it to him.
I wondered why he took only the money, and when he saw it, he immediately placed it in a different spot.
I asked why.
I offered you food and water—you rejected both, and now you hide the coin.
He said it was the most different one, and if he didn’t hide it, other people would start accusing him that the coin was wrong, that it shouldn’t be used—because its print was different, because its color didn’t match theirs.