Best Blackouts Poems
Dedication is to my Friends who avoid judging:
You are not the judge
But judge you must
For earthly matters and such
Leave hell to satan or demons
But Heaven in fragrances of your words:
Epitaph, apology, poetry, piety, congrats - -
Even angels fall, why not us (Adamic) mortals -
When pride and ego explode in ungodly challenge!
NoTE:
Between writing, editing, posting this simple offering ... the good & bad in Me & of South Africa today, asserted themselves: our electricity brownouts & blackouts affect internet, editing, posting, and consistent connection. My one service provider, MTN, has been back today for a few hours now (after more than a weak of zero internet connectivity). You pay a price: seeing many versions of this JUDGEMENT poem. Shalom
All these thoughts running around my head in a sadistic fashion
sitting me down and force feeding misery to the shallow doll that is me.
What a tea party, what a way to spend my days under the bed with the other broken dolls
What a gathering of emptiness
Nobody wants a broken doll
Im unfixable
Caress my madness with a jagged blade cutting it out of me with that smile on your face, the crooked mouth and face twisting as i shut my eyes to hide within myself whilst everything outside of me is decaying.
What a wonderful smile you dont have what a way to spend my time thinking about nothing
My thoughts hurt the swelling of blackouts elapses
Blackout.....blackout completely.
~*~*~*~*~
A little girl with dark brown braids.
White blouse, gold-colored wool skirt
and patent leather Mary Janes.
An only child with a wired haired fox
terrier that lived with Grandpa,
Mother and Father.
Her Mother, sweet, who saw to it
that she had ballet lessons, went
to a private school and Mother read
her poetry for hours.
A book collection she did have and
loved to read even before she really
could.
Playing with friends, riding her bike,
loved sparklers on warm, July Fourth
nights.
Saw men proud to wear a uniform,
who never came back from the war.
She did not understand when someone
stole her Teddy Bear during one of
many blackouts during the war.
Whoever would do such a thing?
No TV, no technology, just cut-outs,
crayons and she was taught to salute
the flag, because she lived in the land
of the free.
Children were safe, could go on the
train downtown.
But she cherished it the most when
hiding like a cub, under her Mother's
warm coat. The snow sticking to train
windows, peeking in.
Swimming at small lakes in summer how
she loved that the most. So suntanned,
she, the color of warm toast.
The girl knew song lyrics, she never forgot.
They live in her mind and heart and cannot
be turned off.
Years passed, the autumns and summers.
Family now almost all gone, yet somehow,
she remains young.
Always desirous of being herself, you won't
find the braided girl wanting to belong to
any crowd.
The music, the dance, her life, somehow
made her become a poetess.
Surely, not the best!
Being genuine is the gold standard for
all she writes. It must past this test!
She does not write to impress with great
finesse. Just to keep it simple as can be.
Thus~you will experience her poetry!
September 12, 2020
8pm PST
Loose Pocket Change
A whistle blew
And out went candlelight
It’s wax ,cascaded and crystallized
It’s tears, warm and heavy, emptied into the deep
A bouquet of wilted flowers
Before the grave
Dark shadows of death
Stalk and circle those in blackouts
Black birds crow and fill the mind and burry the spirit
Sunken fishing boats
Bare hooks
Empty nets
Loose pocket change
In a pit of a bag
Stolen instruments
Black water under the bridge
Dirt and grime consumes it
Garbage and human remains float
Garlic peeling at the harbor
Women’s work
Men burn firewood for charcoal
Children get home schooling
Come feeding time, children fight
Typhoon blew stick houses down
Rice and grain swept away
Momma pawns everything
To open up her shop
Placing a bet on her life
A promise to feed her husband and lad
In the ruins of the slums
Hunger bury those who go without
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
09/17/19
We don't appreciate electricity until it's gone.
Especially at night when our lights can't be turned on.
Most of us take electricity for granted until we have a blackout.
We don't realize how important it is until we have to do without.
Electricity is important, for many people it provides heat and cooks meals.
If the power is out for even just a day or two, it can be a terrible ordeal.
I hate blackouts, to be able to watch TV or get online, I have to sit and wait.
Please remember that electricity is something that we should appreciate.
Fear is my unspoken words
Emotions linger in my mind
like free flying birds
but still my life is sad!
Unspoken words remain Undefeated
Just as the sky remains seated
As my heart beats
Tears and Fear pour heavily
The only taste i have is that of mucus
Running from my nose
Why My people are more concerned with frequent blackouts!
A question to be ,does our lives matter?
Evil people have put a price on my body
Making me the most haunted persons of my era
A few people are there to fight with me
A question to be,
Are they rangers trying to control pouching?
But still my life is sad!
A question to be does our lives matter?
Nalakwanji Malawi?
Smog and blackouts led to an off-track sleigh,
‘til Rudolph’s red nose could not save the day.
Santa refused to show stress,
So he used his G-P-S*
To get Christmas Eve trek back on its way!
I’m from small town homes and rose bushes overgrown, with
Close-but-not-too-close-close-knit-crazies.
Where my best friend lives down the block and I make late night trips to her house past the town curfew, because I am from just inside the city limits.
Where I can’t drive underage in a non-road-legal vehicle on the road but I do it anyways.
From hydrangeas to big dead oaks with darkened limbs and forgotten branches. Unattended to hidden ponds with sand dunes keeping close company. Winding trails through the woven pines and golf cart rides through the night.
From two tracking at 2am, to popped tires riding on rims all the way home.
Bruised up and down and scratches I don’t know how I got.
I’m from sunday night football with crockpot cheesy potatoes
to rolling blackouts and chasing charter vans down flat onto our bottoms.
Muddy heels to get to the dance and paying seven dollars to watch my hometown football team lose.
I’m from where smoking our meat and video games in the garage is a party but we are the only company we need.
From corny jokes inside and out and witty humor, none taken. From where insulting one another is nothing but love and curfews are often a thing of the past.
Descending from lovejoys I am often filled with both love and joy,
I’m from oddballs and country folk yet we have evolved.
I’m from soccer games even when it’s raining. From no quitting all the way to you tried your best.
From high- highs and even lower lows.
I’m from the land of schnitzel, pickled beer, and pizza. From ‘go play outside’ and ‘walk it off.’ Nuts and bolts for christmas snacks to ‘honor thy mother and father.’ Sunday school lullabies and don’t use his name in vain, following all the common Godly precautions.
I’m from waking up early just to see the sunrise even though the trees are a war barricade from the burning fire you long to see. I’m from the fog that made my acres of yard an abyss that I can’t see through, even though I know what’s there.
I’m from family trips and a loving home, missing it when I’m gone and hating it when I’m there. I’m from supportive love and ‘can’t isn’t a word’. I’m from you can do anything if you work hard enough, and whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.
Time, to buy our poppies
To remember once again
remember those who died for us
And those who were just maimed
We must also remember
Those, who lost their loved ones
Mothers, sister’s, daughters
Fathers, brothers, son's
What a lot of us can't imagine
What torment that must be
But they all gave their lives for us
To make our country free
In one hundred years
Two wars some endured
lost fathers in the 1st, sons in the last
This fighting is absurd
And still we send our menfolk
To fight the wars abroad
Please end this madness
I beg thee dear lord...
We think we're in recession
But do we really know
The hardships that our grandparents
Suffered against the foe
Bombed out of house and home
Nowhere else to go
Then all neighbours rallied round
To help they were not slow
Rationing came about
For food, for clothes, for fuel
From just scrag ends of meat
Made appetizing gruel
Women took over men’s jobs
In factories, farms and such
Blackouts, sirens, shelters
Hardship there was much
Army, air force and navy
Were not the only ones
But fire-fighters, nurses, doctors
Air raid wardens, everyone
They all played some part
In winning against the foe
Many lost their lives
A dreadful way to go
Some might say its better
To die instantly my friends
For many, many suffered
In agony till the end
We can’t possibly imagine
What it's like there at the front
Many months of fighting
With no end in sight
In trenches,
Your comrades all about you lying
Water logged and stinking,
Lying, crying, dying.
So please stand in silence
Remember, remember them
They fought for our freedom
Our women and our men
They know every word from the Good Book,
but that doesn’t stop them from being hooked
to all kinds of mess.
A driver hits a pedestrian in broad daylight,
and blames it on the chewing of khat.
Students forget their intellectual pioneers,
and take soccer betting as their careers.
Quack doctors unknowingly administer poison,
only to be caught, ending up in prison.
Random men appear right in front of you with Rolex
watches, whose scamming time cannot fix.
Power blackouts are so rampant,
that indoors become similar to night……
Everything seems to be in disarray,
making us to always pray.
Anyone can see there’s no sense of direction;
the books of law sound like fiction.
Our visionaries are either in the graves,
or not yet born.
Time has made us its slaves,
with corruption as our dawn.
Date of Entry: 24/04/2017
dark clouds overhead
with heavy rain unending…
the sea is claiming all
dark in the morning
foretells the rainstorm coming….
sojourner take care
spring rains bring flowers
dark rains of winter bring floods….
downed lines and blackouts
For Dark Rain contest won 3rd
"I baptized you in the name of Father
and of the Son of the Holy Spirit...."
Our relationship has began...
I was welcomed to the life of Christianity
Taught to walk and be Christ-like...
I have professed my faith but do I really know Jesus?
From Virgin Mary to God's only Begotten son...
Do I really know Him?
Do - I - really - know - Him?
I am put to shame of how I was like before...
But never have I not fully realize until then...
Unperceivable by the naked eye
Into the out-pour of trials and troubles
He remain my faithful enduring friend
To Him no pre-paid loads or high even low - signals
One heartfelt sincere whisper in the air
On the right time, always, He answered my prayer
Into raging storms, where there are brownouts or blackouts
Through His inspired writers of the Bible, I read
By His stories, His living words, light is aglow no doubt!
Down to my confusions to my staggering thoughts
I look to my surroundings: sunrises; seas, butterflies and flower buds
He is there consoling my woos, refreshing me, keeping me appease
From my weaknesses to sins I have wrongfully committed
By persons He sends, there are corrected misbehavior..
There is forgiveness, healing and whole restoration
He is my teacher; my Spirit lifter and my ultimate Savior...
I have not much of pennies and goodies
But my soul rejoices for by His amazing grace
I am provided; I am being loved
If am alone and got no one...
I close my eyes, with the gust of the wind
In the stillness of everything
He saturates me with His Holy Spirit, His Holy presence
For He is my Jesus, the Lover of my soul...
by
olive_eloi
1:42 am
04/02/2014
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CONTEST: JESUS AND MARY FOR EASTER
SPONSOR: DEBBIE GUZZI
3RD PLACE, PRAISE GOD.. :)
In Kenya, they are called value-added taxes, “yani VAT”.
They change and increase every year
And are placed on everything under the sun.
The prices increase daily,
But they say it would lead to everyone paying their fair share of tax.
They are better referred to as poverty taxes,
Because they punish the poor to become the poorest,
They entrench selfishness among the neighbours and friends,
They take away the only saving of the poor in the society,
and one wonders why the poor remain the poorest.
The tax takes the homes,
The mortgages become unaffordable,
The rent skyrockets in Nairobi, Kisumu and Mombasa,
While the gas prices become unbearable.
The cars and bus rides become a luxury,
and our lunches are taken from our mouths.
The tax man is always on the door,
You wonder if you are under some emergency evacuation.
Taxman takes every percentage of your hospital bill,
Or school fee, or your child’s pocket money, or church tithe offerings,
Until there is nothing positive to take away.
Worst of it, the bills and penalties are always in your postal mail.
The services offered at government offices are poor.
The civil servants are rude to the core like vampires.
The infrastructure development is wanting,
The electricity blackouts in rural areas are frequent,
Education facilities not well equipped,
Health facilities are rotting from inadequate funding,
and any innovation is suspiciously viewed as a threat.
The tax man never explains where is the tax,
Nor what development activities were completed.
The poor’s voice can’t be heard yet everything is taxed.
The poor continue to be taxed to poverty,
While the tax man feeds the corrupt all the taxes.
21 Cents
The information blackouts
Are drawn at Whitehall, while
Our controls are being hacked
And hijacked, those freedoms
That our parents fought seem
Threatened by a dangerous dream.
Eugenics shadows of the past,
Mechanics to assist or replace.
The voluntary amputee goes
Beyond the boundaries most
Would wish to traverse, or
Rather climb the distant
Himalayas, where we pollute
The air with words, transgress
Modest and grounded beliefs.
An arrogance to assume, that
Our world is superior to theirs.
Powerless in a Powerful flag waving
Nation, grounded as a rusting ship
Waiting to be made over or reborn,
Expanding families lock the door
Against the illegal money lender,
The smooth talking politician
Who wants his cut and your vote
A partner leaves without a note
Of explanation to clarify your pain.
Respect is not inborn but taught
School rules that parents disavow
With every new expletive, give
Example to a powerless refrain,
Singing in the shower, not the rain.
Extinguishing the guiding light within,
To look intently, seeing crouched inside,
The eloquence of well-spoken lies and
The stuttering of an expressed truth.
(a silly series of Senryus)
It’s time to cram for
final exams, again, so
here we go, mug up.
My mind, coffee dark,
drifts in academic dreams,
—think roiling oceans.
A ‘mandatory’
society meeting? You’re
not the boss of me.
I’ll shun or eschew,
if I want too, sidestepping,
like a tap dancer.
I'm not lazy - I'm
high tech and in energy
saving mode now.
It’s a pointed and
conscious decision—I’ll do
me and you do you.
.
.
Songs for this:
Simply Couldn't Care by Tracey Thorn
Each and Every One by Everything But the Girl