Best Capitulated Poems
Sleepless Valentine
I took the pinkie blue cuddlesome bear
And by its blood scarlet bow
Noose tied hung it
Too soft
With its felted heart
And false cute sentiment
And with eyes burning hot
I tore it down
Fluffy bear
Thrown to the ground
Where
The petal shard-ed reds of rose
Lay dashed
On broken stems
Thrashed to the corner
The puffy pleading little arms
And big round mollusc eyes
And cutie pie smile
So in bare feet
I could trample flowers
In a Disney valentine
Till I lay on my bed
Groaning, shudders and weeping
And all the words I wrote
Of love
Couldn’t stop the pleading
Of my heart
Not to feel these empty arms
Riled against my pillow I did
And scratched and tore
At cold cotton sheets
While images of you
Lay my souls ever itch in my head
While my blood screamed
With dead Rosetta Rosaceae
And this nights sleepless toss and turn
Has not begun
Has not lifted an eye lid
And stolen my dreams
No
The long dawn has not even begun
To bleed its way through solitary hours
And find me capitulated
In the teddy bear whispers
Of the night still ahead
I must steal myself instead
And continue to hanker after the witches red
Of ringlet hair
And bend my will
To sullen acceptance
No
Not together
No
Not yet
I stroll a silvered landscape
where trees are silhouetted spears,
stabbing memories of days first walked with you . . .
ice traceries, firey strands of longing lace,
wrap the crumbling dream,
like brittle, curling tinsel from childhood holidays.
A burning stream of cold tumbles seaward,
dislodging jagged stones, desire and disgust;
wounding barren feet.
Backward . . .
I trace pink-tinged footprints
along the line of demarcation
where love once gamboled in innocence
before the moon capitulated
and collapsed into the sea.
Lovely she was, but she is no more.
Copyright August 3, 2018
A fictional write of a loveless plight…
Once Upon a Dream
"When you're wishing upon a twinkling star
Gracious fairies gather from realms afar
Sent to mend hearts what’re broken in two
Bringing love of your loved one home to you.”
Once upon a dream a long time ago
You came into my life and charmed it so
Gently kissing my lips, you kissed my heart
Beneath glowing beams of heavenly stars.
Above the rainbow pretty bluebirds flew
In a fantasyland made just for two
A magnetic rapture of sky above
Perfectly enhancing the mood for love.
Beauty of each moment, minute and hour
Unfurled alike an exquisite flower
Till time came and spelt close of our romance
Breaking the spell that made our lives enhanced.
Bittersweet are finely tuned joys and grief
A song in my heart on constant repeat
Rhapsody that brings back both dear and sad
And movie star magic dreams we once had.
If only we could time travel aback
Capitulated to mystic comeback
Reliving memories, heaven blessed
Of golden years that were simply the best.
It's lonesome without you, to proceed on
Days are long from dawn to setting of sun
Yet no one out there my heart would embrace
Not in the universe of outer space.
I view moon and stars through mist of my tears
Wishing us back to future's tranquil sphere
Joyous together in true love light gleam
Our hearts entwined, as once upon a dream.
29th August 2021
‘What good´s permitting some prophet of doom? To wipe every smile away …’
The orator grins at his drunken audience through make up and mask
Opens the cabaret’s veil in the theatre of forsaken minds on the run
Champagne flows from magic fountains while Berlin falters from grace
The wild thirties dance to an apocalyptic sound of paralized conscience
Outside the toothbrush moustache commandeers Svastika’s march
Torches set light to mislead passion and houses of semitic prayer
Crystal breaks as brown shirts parade their poisonous conquest
Heil to the savage Führer when ‘reality is something to rise above’
Pirouettes swirl on stilettos while boots squash compassion and lives
Caviar evades judeo-bolshevik scapegoats and trains to the camps
Blond blue-eyed conception born to inhabit Lebensraum on the map
Feeds into industrialist’s dream of war effort and armoured production
The white flag of surrender stuck into skull bones and belligerent stride
No meaningful rise of resistance only raised arms and ‘following orders’
When God capitulated and sang his swan song to the sound of hell fire
And prophets of doom cashed in on gas chambers and golden teeth
It’s easy in hindsight to lift the pen from an immaculate ink-pot of courage
But where would I have been when ashes in Auschwitz were ascending
When evil tore into the last bit of humanity in a vile coup of disgrace
As I look into the mirror of history I reflect on the cowardice in my soul
21st February 2020
‘What good´s permitting some prophet of doom? To wipe every smile away …’
Line from Cabaret the musical base on Christopher Isherwood’s 'Good-bye to
Berlin'
Theme for the poem ‘Reality is something to rise above' Liza Minelli
No more creativity deemed on
the exercise of rotten faculty
Nor burning intelligence’s
penalty
Nor repression sold as
suppression
Nor dissemination of distortion
I shall be content at dawn
To take my leave
Subjugation’s tyranny’s ambition
It’s combat?
Humanity’s mission
Submission’s antithesis is
faction
Behold as protest is deemed
agitation
As justice refuses man’s
gratitude
Take my head be-header
For this truth you shall never
erase
For I am decapitated but not
capitulated
Speak not of blood ties when
you only bleed lies
Repression is a passport to
humanity’s extinction
I’m neither angel nor devil
Nor saintly nor evil
I am human
Striving for what’s right
Enemies call me cold
I belong in no shelf
I put no labels to myself
Save to say love is my way
When walls brought stuffy
indoctrination
And repression funded mental
assassination
Humanity created a blowing
wind
I climb beyond the human
heights
When I'm telling the truth
Explosive in the extreme
I’m called subversive
When i’m only creative
They call me kinky
When i’m only inky
I raise an objection
And get a rejection
When the best brains become
exterminated
And purity poison to
contaminate
For if the worst doesn’t come
to the best the sun shall
rise in the west..
RECCE
Blow me away.
Take me within the storm
Embrace me let me know that you are the stronger one.
Let me know God is to fear
This is his world.
Wind is of a greater source.
I hear the canopy over the hammock switching in and out.
The tables turn upside down as the windows shattered loud.
A windstorm came without rain and the peace became disturbed.
Fearing the wrath of a greater source, we sought shelter.
This is God’s world.
Wind is omnipotent.
As nature begins to calm itself, the wind capitulated.
Bringing fresh air and a nice environment, we begin to investigate.
Reconnaissance discovered all is well.
The stability was felt.
Our findings are that God cares.
____________________________________________|
Scribe August 26, 2015!
Preposterous melody won't exist,
Inside a piano without the chord's beat
Aubade is formed when dolefulness emits
Nails the body to where she always sits;
Ordering her fingers to start a writ.
Corners her world with piano as a friend
Heaves fro the melancholia life has sent
Obsolete in the past yet still remains
Rest in the hands of the hellion of dents
Deceiving the chords life composed to mend
Carted away from the womb of thy mom,
Dispatched to fosters as a surly wan
Ego disappears to the children's scrum
For years she can't find her ruined life's sum
Guided and loved with the help of the rank
An afflatus for three hearts to collide
But deep beneath, she had always been mock
Called in by her fosters as out of luck
Door to door, she lagged capitulated
Reminds herself the poem she narrated
Misses the time her heart elevated
Falls for a man who's crossed-dressing blended
Solitude before but now chaperoned
Laminated by her man's trifle tone
Timbre has echoed when they broke the stone
Do you hear the sixteen chords of her song?
ESTIMATING NINE MONTHS FROM ESKIMO KISSES
TUNDRA tunics
tendered,
holding hot
homeothermic
sentient swaddling,
stirred with
warm waves of
cocoa cresting charm,
bathed in barometric
swoon.
sweetheart neckline
netted nefariously
close -
charm capitulated.
frowns forever forlorn,
as aromatics allure —
cologne colonization,
fever-pitch
of friendship,
not so subtly
sensuous —
harbored hashtag,
blue breath
below freezing —
frenetic, freeing
OF ovulating applause.
12/4/2017
Having fissioned the mind
To intercede the importunate
And petitioned wisdom inside
Idle and dissipated
As tremendous illusions
pervades the soul
The unsurpassed revolt of
capitulated distortions
A percussion of thoughts
That solicits affectations of such
the moon commences its' illusion
it rides the crest fully
survivor of Roche's Limit
survivor of human prediction
filling the night with shadow
my early morning walks
the light in the distance
calls thru canopied jungle path
the setting moon
stepping on the soft white beach
where a silver highway plays
in the rippling water, i am
the human past who long ago
beheld such a sight
without the shaman's cheap trick
nor the cold touch of science
have accepted the moon just is
beautiful to behold
we let each other be
we are one and the same
dancing thru the universe
and when this is no more
we will be lip to lip
i do not know what God is
and have no such need
yet whatever it is
it is magnificent
the heavens live to die
and in that death
life finds itself again
my wishes, mere mortal longing
that so might i
even Rimbaud capitulated
the reprobates' fear of reprobation
and i have but one question
before the empyreal throne
is there in heaven, a moon
Norma's roof Santa Cruz 95
Can I write
Until my pen dries
Until my pupils dilate
And my brain itches
Until my fingers rust
And my glasses dust
Until my heart twitches
Can I scream
Until my throat sores
Until my lungs shrivel
And my voice disappears
Until my veins bulge
And my overwhelm is capitulated
Until my eyes tear
Can I love
Until wars end
Until the universe bends
And death revives
Until a child matures
And hatred cures
Until forever dies
Form:
Let's say we have capitulated
yes, let's say we have succumbed
to their whimsical naivété and inane wisdom
Let us assume that it is all phoney
that it is a bogus hoax-filled folklore
We shall now pretend that we have been beguiled by such marvelous
exercise of ludicrous folly
Such bombardment of contorted philosophy
But in our gullibility we shall yet ask
in sheepish inquisition and meek certainty
if this course so pitiably slandered be nothing but deceit,
why then does it stand conspicuously so therapeutic?
why has it made men
who traversed through the impossible vortex of
reality's odd challenges?
why has it given Invigoration with hope
the haggard Destitute?
Why has it restored green to those fallen human twigs
Why has it steadied nerves and halted addictions?
Why has it healed the sick and made disappear tumults?
Why has it prognosticated that which we now perceive
Does nothingness do that
Does nothingness tender an insight so revealing,
So infinite.
Does nothingness and baseless belief
deliver from the vague labyrinth of man's ordination
if these be true
Who then doubt's the veracity
Why then disprove religion
The illicit flames of cajole will wane like an impetuous act of wind.
Annul with impervious aplomb
Waxing perspicacious avenues
Clearing the nebulous
The schism extricate judicious clarity
Vicarious envoy
Omnious stance
Intrinsic string of which I now belong accrues each dawn
Tenable apotheosis oracular
Aberrant paths engage in the light as the nocturnal recividist abated
The diaphanous window capitulated to alloy
Congential precedence gives prerogative by inveterate enigma
Tangible motif clings
Precarious simplicity carry ubiquitous propensity
Equanimity and audacity interchange
Swrod for Sword
Faux Pas to be no more
Impeccable prowess on inimitable wings
To be cognizant is to see
Rendezvous at the fete
Its adjacent to everything
Magnanimous in all things
Taciturn to the ludicrous
Anithetical of perdition
Verbatim by the imbued
Repertoire 9f the genesis
By Christy Teas
Form:
Without Reason and Without Cause
Doodle around and then relax;
then doodle some more and pass.
And hope tomorrow won’t hide the sun,
though your course already has run.
Cease this whimsical nonsense
—liberate and act, not the fool,
but prove your genius,
and defy character of rule.
I withheld truth and capitulated;
without reason and without cause.
And abetted false narrative,
and now life is questionable?
Like a tree frozen in winter,
yielding fruit rotten on the branch;
In punishment, my mind crawls
through slums where I tell everyone,
“Chump change. I was never important.
Let them pirouette in my face.
Hasta la vista! (Until we meet again!)”
Investigators cordon off the area
speaking in broken English,
“The facts speak for themselves.”
Sloths, like their animal predecessors,
welcome closure after the occurrence.
***
Notes:
Reasonable suspicion is more or less a hunch or guess without substantial evidence that a crime has the appearance of having been committed and justifies further investigation.
Probable cause is the logical conclusion after observation or investigation, supported by facts and circumstances, that a crime has been, is being, or will be committed.
The black hole was enticing me,
The mysteries lying past, its sensuous obscurity,
All the lights behind me were waning,
And the gloom spreading all around me,
I saw a few reasons to turn back and seek the fading lights,
But I saw millions of explanations to enter the luscious dark horizon,
Because I fell and found no purpose to get up again,
Because I was tortured and had no energy to fight back,
I was branded by a hot iron cast of societal rulebooks and I did not resist,
I was capitulated in agony, yet did not hope to heal.
I was numb, sore, crippled and mutilated,
Torn and worn out, denying to nurse myself back.
My mind had cut itself from the rest of my body,
My heart implemented some remaining beats to keep me going.
My tears flowing like the despondent river that lost its urge to join the sea,
Aimless, insubstantial, desperate, I decided to seek asylum in the dim,
That assured peace.
But then someone whispered from behind,
Some formation too feeble like the distant fading beams,
But strong voice it had, its manifestation intense.
It asked me to come back, to the light,
Where everything was genuine, unlike the mirages displayed by the darkness,
Love would be found, hope reborn every time it died,
There were more moments to be experienced,
More memories to be made.
There were them who loved you, them for whom you must live,
The life that you got, it’s a gift from God,
To make your soul more resilient, chiselled into perfection,
Unlike the false promises, forged emotions and impractical faith,
Being offered in the murkiness,
Because if you were lost in the brighter side, the lights would guide you,
But if you got lost in the black hole, you became endlessly lost.
K.S.Lakshmi