Best Consigns Poems
The USA is not perfect
never has been
never will be
Unlike Russia, which has
‘no alcohol problem’
‘no civil disobedience’
‘no LGBTQ populace’
Not to mention no truth in the
information it disseminates to
suckers around the world...
Yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
not with George Washington
the 1700’s slaveholder (gasp!)
on our currency, not to mention
Susan B. Anthony, who was proudly
anti-abortion, pro-life – for shame, for shame!
~ Our ignominious past consigns us to eternal penance ~
Unlike Libya, where an ancient slave trade flourishes
to this very day: Muslims enslaving black Christians
which does not fit the media’s narrative
so most people aren't aware of it
and the rest don’t care about it
Unlike Afghanistan, where the repression of the 'Old Taliban'
is now fully in place under the ‘Newer, More Gentle Taliban’
or Syria, whose butcher of a ruler has made refugees of half his
citizenry, gassing thousands of others with chemical weapons…
But yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
Never has been
Never will be
Let us forever grovel in abasement to all the tin-horn dictators of the world
not to mention our home-grown squadrons of regressive radical progressives
Down with Jefferson, Lincoln, Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, Truman and Reagan!
Up with Omer, Tlieb, Pressley, Sanders, AOC, Corey Bush, Schiff, Nadler...
Long live Maduro, Castro, the Mullahs, Xi, bin Salman, Abbas, Gaddafi et al!
Lies are Truths Might Makes Right Facts are Opinions
1 9 8 4
TO ACCLIMATE ACADEMIA - SOCIAL THEOLOGICAL STUDIES
Once God confused the languages, humanity processed out to form religion.
Yet, creation had given us our own separate places
WHEREFORE, the Berlin Wall was placed to confront differences in opinion.
Was one nation negated?
History has shown us that man is his own dilemma, woman is his triumph, and child is his neglect when he is not about the future but only the past.
Do we speak on what’s wrong?
Or, do we stand by until all hope is gone?
Was the walk just a facade?
Did this solve any problems?
As the universe, we diversify.
But in a world that is structure around immigration, informed by origin and enslavement, diversification is divergently challenge through discrimination and hate crimes.
Opposing a wrongful world to define the mundane is when humankind abominates from the atrocities described.
Reforming a rightful mind brings a positivist unity that has never been in our lives.
Unanimity, concordance, and harmony discreet.
Our political leaders are not embracing antiquity...
Instead, they relic the identity.
Will it end?
The revelation that is not shown.
Is this a threat to human life formed?
Inner body is the secret chamber.
In the body will it remain?
To put before requires us to apply one thing to another.
Individuals populate as people.
One person left out can cause a crucifixion where pain is the affliction.
In that suffering is so great, abhorrence is by fate,
Social theologically I write to depart insight from hindsight.
Through not so freely gave because a mind is to decipher to become a sage
Positing my thoughts for others to decrypt is fine and dandy.
Of course, it is.
Gen that consigns philosophers to seek the truth, insofar as the Tarot reader sees from the spread of cards.
As a result, the world has become the universe.
_____________________________________________________________|
Written August 01, 2016!
Live lovely looks
Bright blessings book
Craze consigns crook
Oomph orders ooze
Beer bottle booze
Senile sense snooze
Go gather good
Mix motive mood
Fashion fine food
Leapfrog lame lines
Flavours frame fine
Muse mellows mine
Do design deed
Free fragrant feed
Waste wallows weed
Live lazy light
See sparkling sights
Blooms blossom bright
Rush rescues run
Play prunes pure pun
Sight scotching sun
Seed spacious start
Hurl healing heart
Pleasure primes part
Clever clowns croon
Night nurtures noon
Belief bears boon
Real rustic room
Blessings burst bloom
Glimpse gracious gloom
Meet moments meek
Special sign seek
Prime pleasure peeks
Leon Enriquez
28 Feb 2014
Singapore
Sunrise, Oh aural hymn of spirituality,
Vibrant in it’s splendour and magnificence,
Sending nocturnes to daytime slumber,
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
Piercing the day’s birth with colours and hue,
The Master’s tableau, a glorious canvas,
Fiery paints, swirling strokes and defiant beauty
The bright facet of the world’s axial turn.
It evokes and invokes, feelings and awe.
Praises and raises, creation and spirits,
Vilifies and nullifies, sadness and hopelessness,
Resigns and consigns, acceptance and trepidation.
Strand by strand, it runs through the hair,
Pore to pore, it caresses the skin,
Squint by squint, it opens the eyes,
Every brightness warms a weary heart.
It bridges valleys and flattens peaks,
Resurrects death and ends horizons,
Humbles the great and strengthens the weak,
With its rays, its light, its kiss.
We are but an audience, paler and drabber,
Casting pathetic lines of self importance,
Feeble in our attempts and underneath its shadow,
For its languid phase is our mortal eternity.
When we are dust, entwined to life in death,
Ethereal and eternal and constant the sun remains.
Bathing life to a yawning earth.
Form:
...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney
He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the crowning glory.
So many vestiges, heros in the making,
but a careless chip, an errant slice,
consigns them to the beggars pile,
without that patina of agelessness.
Never ready, never groomed to wear
that sacred halo on their heads,
the crowning glory.
Once in a while a piece emerges,
bursting from the cold, defiant marble,
his fingers can't work fast enough
to exorcize this deity,
fingers, limbs and face in perfect symmetry,
they become eternal,
the suggestion of a wreath their crowning glory!
I sit and watch
Contentment seizes --
Magic happens
Pathways within
An unseen mind --
Manipulates madness
Logic questions sense
Molehill reservations --
Rapture says nothing
Re-discover pulse
In tired ways --
Let zest escalate
Time comes and goes
Breezy as the zephyr --
Cool tonic water
Opinions stacked
Feedback confronted --
Cynic attending
Islands apart
Sun-tan lotion --
SPF 100
Conflict and pain
Raw nerves mangled --
Sanguine refrains
Word for word
Not much to say --
Only haphazard itch
Cross road signage
Beware of traffic --
In all directions!
Wet market scene
Buying and selling --
Brisk business attends
Sometimes
Life consigns each --
Unnoticed dash
Good book
In small hands --
Reading preferred
Small talk
Short quirky lines --
Brief salvation
Change of mind
Strange affair --
Rites of passage
Leon Enriquez
06 June 2014
Singapore
When all there is might seem a mess,
Adrift, far out to sea
When all there is seems somehow less
Than what it ought to be
We cannot know, but we can guess
We are the fantasy.
As planets move within their spheres,
We see their harmony;
Watch birds in flight migrating steer,
In synchronicity;
We choose the truth when it appears
We are the fantasy
The faithful claim what god has made
Cannot be a mistake
And others say the whole charade
Is nothing but a fake
But somehow on the top we’re laid;
Like icing on the cake
We measure microscopic things
We cannot even see
Watch dust clouds pushed by cosmic winds
Out of the galaxy
We fly with ideas spread like wings
We are the fantasy
All that there is, our science consigns
To mass and energy
We order stars to our designs
To snare our destiny
We join the dots; we draw the lines
We are the fantasy.
Falling leaves
Paragraphs wind blown;
Telling a story
~~~~~~~~~
Two carrot cakes
Different recipes;
Delightful outcomes
~~~~~~~~~
House work calls
Busy with home work;
Fastidious hands
~~~~~~~~~
Watch what happens
Random rain wets;
Harsh heatwave irrigates
~~~~~~~~~
Yes once again
That time of year;
Haze adds colour
~~~~~~~~~
Geopolitics confers
Conflict confronts calm;
Uneasy peace
~~~~~~~~~
This great stretch
Sea and boundaries;
So many claims
~~~~~~~~~
Difficult choices
No middle path;
Fumble taking sides
~~~~~~~~~
So much here
Activity consigns;
Cash like ammo
~~~~~~~~~
Profound question:
Why ask why?
So many times
~~~~~~~~~
Cheery children
Play prunes prank;
Laughter frolics
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
09 April 2016
Singapore
Chizzie,
Your magical kiss electrifies my poor soul,
it soothes my dry tongue with your salivary honey.
It satisfies my innate needs like money
earnestly sought for to meet every set goal
listed in a schedule of a lifetime's needs.
Any time I gaze at you, your beauty feeds
my creative imagination with words
that would strike any heart with a thousand swords.
Your entertaining presence is rewarding,
every nice moment of it is worth studying.
It sets my loving heart ablaze with passion,
and consigns boredom to utter extinction.
Chizzie,
When will our love be sealed with your covenant kiss?
which would guarantee us both a life of bliss?
When will my doubts be settled at the altar?
When we shall sing happily with a psalter?
Meet that strange choice at life's fork road,
Yet risk consigns a confused mind;
Sense knows a voice that bears the load,
Teaser aligns conflict in kind;
Impeach odd times with awkward glitch,
***** curious sighs flavour the scene;
Urge punctures chimes as fortunes pitch,
Expect vain cries to ooze between.
Mind shows matter what magic thinks,
Allow old fears to fall away;
Glimpse thoughts tender that bridge new links,
Instruct bold cheer to fill this day;
Charm grooms a touch that casts fine spells,
Keep poise as such where choice can dwell.
Leon Enriquez
09 March 2016
Singapore
Heart
Starts
Bold art
Joins all parts
To fill soul's sure cart
As glimpse bestows love's fond impart
Mind
Finds
Truth blind
Charm designs
Beauty that aligns
Finesse and poise where cheer consigns
Soul
Moulds
Unfolds
Sense of whole
Stray pieces now hold
Ancient kingdoms in pristine gold
Form
Storms
Prior norms
Yet transforms
Our modern reforms
To usher new dwellings and dorms
Space
Pace
New race
Light of grace
Intervenes to trace
Spirit-soul to venture this face
Time
Rhymes
Clear chimes
Stillness mimes
Silence in sure prime
To erase the debt of old crimes
Flow
Grows
Bright glow
Touch primes show
Observe highs or lows
Wavy movement in-between blows
Leon Enriquez
02 Mar 2014
Singapore
Purpose firms act
With steady poise,
Passion with tact
Can manage choice.
Motive and sense
Seed a sure fate,
Go beyond tense
To live fond date.
Song and story
Adapt to style,
Dance feeds feisty
To curl a smile.
Salute the day
That comes with fest,
Align cheer's say
In brilliant jest.
Spirit sparks soul
In body-mind,
Heart feels a whole
In oneness kind.
Touch frames the treats
That offer joy,
Cheer makes things sweet
As zest employs.
Early or late
In space and time,
Consigns a fate
In vivid chimes.
Words set in rhymes
Create a feel,
Thought dazzles grime
In pulse that heals.
Listen and see
A vibrant poise,
Observe and be
True voice by choice.
Go round and round
In easy bloom,
Hear the clear sounds
Of love that grooms.
Leon Enriquez
15 May 2015
Singapore
...inspired by 'An Artist' by Seamus Heaney
He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the crowning glory.
So many vestiges, heroes in the making,
but a careless chip, an errant slice,
consigns them to the beggars pile,
without that patina of agelessness.
Never ready, never groomed to wear
that sacred halo on their heads,
the crowning glory.
Once in a while a piece emerges,
bursting from the cold, defiant marble.
His fingers can't work fast enough
to realize this masterpiece,
fingers, limbs and face
in perfect form become eternal,
the promise of a wreath, the crowning glory.
He keeps himself confined,
to bluster now, and remonstrate
the struggle being more than he can bear.
Pieces of him pulverized, fashioned from
the sweat of his own making to a glimpse
of the immortal, just a glimpse, but not
the crowning glory.
So many vestiges, heros in the making,
but a careless chip, an errant slice,
consigns them to the beggars pile,
without that patina of agelessness.
Never ready, never groomed to wear
that sacred halo on his head,
the crowning glory.
Once in a while a piece emerges,
bursting from the cold, defiant marble,
his fingers work, so resolute,
to fabricate this work of art,
fingers, limbs and face in perfect symmetry,
they become eternal,his reward a wreath,
the crowning glory!
Author's Note
...inspired by the poetry of Seamus Heaney.
Touch me, like the morning touches faith
without the waste of time,
and holds it, as my thought holds rhyme.
Touch me, that a look beyond
tomorrow not define
some hopefulness, that today reminds.
Touch me ~ for a grant of help confers, consigns
to helpfulness, and then resigns
its own investing in the mind.
Touch me ~ as I cry to thee
and thee might blind
my seeing, and leave me so behind.
Touch me ~ that one word unkind
might touch my soul, and leave a bind
not touchable again, invalid, hind.
Touch me love ~caress as signed
exclusion fades all hope confined,
so quiet the day to each assigned.
Touch me ~
as together's rind does touch forever,
Thee and I'm.
~ touch me!