Best Discloses Poems
Crows gather around the mysterious, abandoned castle,
Its bastions and towers drowning within a mournful silence.
Ghostly shadows loom within the dungeons and the murder holes,
Screams of perished souls are locked within the castle walls.
Long it has stood there upon a mountain of tempestuous winds,
Withholding a secret from haunting years passed.
Stones big, dark and looming, an ancient evil lurks inside,
Creeping through each room, an eeriness unexplained.
Each corridor discloses a tale of bloodshed on that dreaded night,
when the devil sent his descendants to run havoc amongst the mortals.
The bitter queen who summoned them did not live to confess the tragedy,
She took her life, witnessing all before her slaughtered including the adulterous king.
As a child, I had heard countless legends of the forbidden castle,
Of the torture chambers and the merciless beheading of the accused innocent.
Many have warned, “Beware…stay away…” and now I stand before the entrance,
The devilish crows watching knowingly, as if they foresee my fate.
“Beware the snares in the dark, for Death grins, awaiting your coming…”
A special collaberation with The Silent One
Thanks for the opportunity! :)
Soul passion is not a simple task.
This is grasped as a soulful bask,
To reserve one's sound mind and soul,
To your loved ones, but not a hack.
They set down those blessed vows as rule,
In a precise scheme, that's the goal,
Since the pen-pusher by now knew,
I don't dismiss the budding role.
Spot our bloodline evolved and grew,
When our souls stand, sorely renew,
Our feelings may become muddled,
With the one, we esteem for true.
Life's chore complications crumbled,
May seldom grasp its rate stumbled,
And shepherd a partner or spouse,
Too wide, gloom, and bleak shaft fumbled.
Although, we relinquish word swears,
To be prized, esteemed with obeys,
to discard each other as well,
our arduous traipse continues.
Our sound bodies are shaped well,
that's why many of us can tell,
In the sort of low dust and grime,
Into the scum of smeared lust, dull.
So, within, there is creed sublime,
Stumbles is near the end of time,
It discloses straight to our thoughts,
And unholy erects in slime.
Attempting to maintain our wrought,
Is challenging without a brought,
One should reach out to the other,
And squabbles should be held as naught.
Such misgivings may be utter,
Despite this, your tongue is tender,
Those who have shown anxiety,
have a rough time seemly hover.
Ne'er deem without proof utterly,
Or to be selfish and greedy,
Doubt is a marked first point of this,
We judge that evil eats, truly.
Don't put your faith in people's glitz,
Since he, too, is made of brain blitz,
Believe in God with all your heart,
He'll view through, stow you on the ritz.
Written: May 11, 2022
"Road to Lovejoy - Piano for the Self Taught" (Part 1)
Liberation
of a sort
head out the car window
hair blowin’ in the breeze
I can hear the Crickets chirping
in the chilly winter freeze
I’m smiling
it’s good to be alive
until the old man shouts
“Hoi!
pull your head in a
truck’s coming!”
Right hand holding
the wheel steady
reaches over the gear stick
across me
no seatbelts back then
in the old Austin
winds up the window
a roll your own ***
hangs out the side of
his mouth
the Kimberly is a moving
gas chamber
I’m breathing it all in,
holding my paper bag
carsick from the fags
along a very long flat road
it’s seems like we’ve been driving
forever, all those Cane Toads jumping
across the “NO SPEEDING - ROOS CROSSING!” Zone,
We’re moving West not South
Erinmore roll your own
he licks then spits out.
“Count the roadposts”,
he barks out the corner of his
mouth, “that’ll be interesting”.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
there’s a Roo lying on the side
of the road in the dark,
the highbeam discloses it’s been
bleeding, intestines lying ripe
with blowflies and a Red Belly Black
by it’s side
“eating it’s gizzards”, I surmise
I swallow and cringe,
the word makes me think
of Frilly Lizards, throwing up and
I’m praying it’s gone to Roo Heaven.
8, 9, 10, 11,
before too long
I’m sleeping.
This, he’s commanded,
to keep me from barfing.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
Darling Afghan grandmother, your weary hands narrates a somber tale
Your bowed head discloses your day by day yearning ail
You have masked your happiness deep under your time-honored veil
Oblivious-- that your offspring’s will follow your footprints-- and abide by this wretched
trail.
Anosha Zereh
Sweet sounds of every day enriching the life
Empty dark lucky enough into your lights
Life looks in the mirror at its crimson strife
Feeling within how the stars getting bright
As I walk in the garden looking for your window
Curious to collect the crystals from your braid
Towards a home in pomegranate that I know
Unable if I am to make it, I’ll lose the cool shade
An amazing struggle between two colored sparks
Lovely corridors into the world of your red roses
In the lightning and laughter that defy the dark
Zeal absolute for the shaft of light that discloses
An arrival at self designed patterns of joy in love
The words aplenty to speak in a voice of poetry
Intensely waiting inside the golden trophy cup
Of tomorrow, your pleasant trellises look at me
Nice construction and deconstruction, this life
__________________________________________________
11/11/2016
Self Actualization Double Acrostic
Sponsor: San Woo 11/11/2016
A pant-less lady
liked to go places
she was rather bawdy
and liked to loosen her laces
she was spied by a grandee
he pulled up his braces
then gave her lots of brandy
alas he could not undo his breeches
A pant-less lady
liked to go places
one has to admit she is barmy
as her wares she discloses
Examining the measure of my calamity
I grow resentful and I inflict pain
Seeking to surrender all that possesses me
I lash out at the innocent which discloses my shame
I reach out
The intensities of my suffering I shelve out
Because my quantity is so immense
I become incoherent
Chaos is my universal place
My ferociousness becomes timid
Eternity my expected release date
Society has snatched me by the choker
My community flames an uproar
Makes me want to cry…. Makes me want to holler
What are we fighting for!?
Each morning I rise to the same ole tune
The classic sound
Of the lowdown blues
I have not delivered my hopes or my dreams
My objectives along with my ambitions have went from flares to flickers
To face another tomorrow makes me quiver
I am distressed about authenticating my history
Cry me a river!
violent power seduces within
moments equipping assurance,
swirling senses of embrace,
separating
circumstances
confusing the present.
our bodies succumbed-motionless
form clouds above, trembles of loneliness.
outpouring rivers of wine,
her innocence,
my softness
aching squalls of temptation,
tender flesh
discloses nature
behind fine-combed meadows
parting our conscious,
consuming
lavender harlot kisses.
bearing our weight-drumming,
steady-cadence-of- passion. numbing
spilled breath heavy as
saturating coastal fog.
peacefulness of sleep,
caresses shivers across my legs,
whirlwind tremors
begin tensing her thighs,
(a suffocating serpent)
imprisoned between heavens
softness of touch, across abdomens.
for a moment,
shivering,
exposed true nature,
life becoming no parenthesis,
bodies wrapped in
weightless vertigo-
Morningstar shining.
Venus discloses brilliance.
Sunrise appearance.
Conscience And Surviving
(*Shadow/Blitz poetry should be read rapidly)
Clear the air
Clear of conscience
Conscience causes confusion
Conscience derails dreams
Dreams fail to fit the occasion
Dreams will melt
Melt unrealistic margins
Melt them with fire
Fire will purify
Fire burns fast
Fast through flaming houses
Fast over high dry grasses
Grasses continue and turn green
Grasses grow giant lawns
Lawns become giants
Lawns climb mountains
Mountains stay still as they can
Mountains do not leap
Leap over oceans
Leap to the stars
Stars wink out secrets
Stars tell scary stories
Stories of violent creation
Stories about the hidden dark
Dark takes over
Dark creates night
Night drinks in power
Night consumes the alter ego
Ego shrinks to such depths as man
Ego bathes in the light of day
Day discloses realities intent
Day takes the sun to happy places
Places in the heart
Places rich in passion
Passion recognized by everyone
Passion born from the burning sun
Sun that reaches every soul
Sun takes solace from shade
Shade has no shadow of its own
Shade belongs to trees
Trees treat sun and shade the same
Trees have leaves and religious beliefs
Beliefs in nature
Beliefs is little creatures
Creatures come and go
Creatures know surviving
Surviving peacefully
Surviving gently
Gently
Peacefully
ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING
My husband had a restaurant
For thirty two years,
Much frustration, kitchen hell
And staff in tears.
The Oasis was a place to dine
Of note,
When exhausted, we drove down,
To the coast and surfed the waves on our boat.
He was renown,
From Limpopo, to Cape Town!
But the time had come to relax a bit,
So he could read the daily newspaper,
And actually sit!
We sold the Oasis, renovated
Our kitchen so it could be his
Own place,
And of course space,
Where I am occasionally allowed
To show my face,
But only to make dessert or taste,
And with a kiss of somewhat haste,
Retreat to let him do his
Own thing,
And enjoy an absolute kitchen
Fling!
He cooks with his hands, soul and
And heart,
And he always dresses for the part,
Be it kitchen hand, chef or
Restaurateur,
He is, and always has been an excellent,
Interpreter,
Of any recipe as far as Beijing,
In fact he can cook anything,
From any Nation, culture or creed,
He has a flair that none can
Exceed!
And looks so cute,
In his dinner suit!
It’s time to serve dinner in style,
Which takes a while,
First he lights candles, then gives
Me a hug,
Pours me wine from our silver jug,
Serves us both and eventually
Sits down.
He had previously told me to
Dress in a comfortable gown,
I guessed he had some surprise
Up his sleeve,
For it was the eve,
Of our Wedding Anniversary.
A bell rings, it’s our front door,
There stands a chauffeur and behind
Him a limousine ,
I still didn’t know what was in store.
Until, the limosine turned towards
the airport,
My husband had packed my suitcase,
And brought my passport,
We board a plane and then he
Discloses,
To me with a bunch of roses,
That we were off to Mauritius for a week,
And, gives me a kiss on each cheek.
He had asked the pilot to please hide,
The roses, everything was so beautifully planned,
I just cried!
Happy Anniversary darling, he said.
I also had a surprise for him,
For he filled my life with such
Happiness, to the brim,
But I would keep this secret until
We arrived,
Happy Anniversary sweetheart
I replied!
Fallen needles soften passage into the forest.
Precise footsteps beckon her to him,
Like a portrait of symmetry in motion.
A kaleidoscope discloses awe-inspiring beauty,
As sunlight freckles tease fluttery fronds,
And stillborn dew splashes spongy mounded moss.
The green velvet becomes denser
With miniature outdoor terrariums,
Everywhere you look.
A grand opening welcomes a multiplicity of fauna,
Bustling about in the spectacle of day,
Urgently amassing essential ingredients,
For survival and sanctuary.
And in the distance a soothing sound-
A babbling brook,
An incessant talker,
Trekking with his daytime comrade-
The dogged sun,
Laughing with his pal-
The luminous moon,
An egotistical lover who can’t keep,
His vanity in check,
As time and time again he returns,
To glean his wondrous reflection,
In the crystal, clear, midnight waters.
And amidst this beauty,
A kiss is shared between her and him.
Not just any kiss,
For this is not just any place.
They have been transported
To a chamber of serenity
Where birds’ songs thankfully know,
No limit to jubilation and pleasure.
The kiss has been fueled by unspeakable splendor,
Christened with peace and appreciation,
Escalating and deepening the passion,
Between her and him.
A matchless kiss-
A Kiss in the Forest!
THE ANNIHILATION OF UKRAINIANS
Kyrie was struggling to overcome barriers of demarcation.
“Holodomor” she was facing.
This artificial famine was brutally taking Ukrainians lives.
In nineteen hundred and twenty-nine, the manifestation of human hate crimes would be a terrorist regime.
The screens Kyrie would experience would became life threatening.
“Death by hungry” was in all eyes.
Eighty years has passed.
Soviet Joseph Stalin’s massacre transpired.
From nineteen hundred and thirty-two thru nineteen hundred and thirty-three the Soviet regime took seven million lives.
Kyrie and her brother. Allah. was blessed to survive.
The story is her father died early on.
Her mother walked far to find food.
She would exchange her earnings and a gold pendant she wore on her dress just for a sack of flour and nothing else.
She formed the flour into a loaf of bread, which tasted liked grass.
Tears forms knowing this was all her and her children had.
Wretchedness it is to know that too many peopled did not have anything
at all to eat.
To genocide was an atrocity.
A silent wasteland of God’s people must be exposed.
Ukrainians today discloses.
_________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 25, 2014!
Black tears fell from my sky today,
I can only feel it, is this blindness?
Its path of wetness burns, cold, and freezes,
In due time I hardly feel it, I can only catch it with my fingers,
Black tears rained down from my eyes,
The black things I hid under flowers came out screaming,
The flowers wilted, I still laboured to keep them blooming,
I sit in this wilderness of black, wishing this rain saves my flowers.
The whispers are back, there’s no one here to stop them coming,
“Hey, it’s us. It’s been a long time.” I cringe and hide, but this rain over me discloses,
“We knew this lull wouldn’t last. Your storms are lifelong, ink woman.” They taunt,
Ah, if only I could prove to them my new strength, but it all washed down with the black.
A porcelain pale face, glazed sheen over my eyes, I’m told,
“Pull yourself together, there’s no blame in destiny.”
If only my old friends heard them, and understood,
If only this erratic rain ceased to pour from my eyes.
My childhood pals are back, it’s one big party.
Some of them seek some action, but we’re no longer in the age of thrill,
I reason and plead, I tell them, I’m above their companionship,
“Your black tears call us forth darling , and we, if not anyone else, shall stay forever.”
“Mistakes, mistakes, tut tut tut.” My ‘friends’ have begun their chant,
Lost in their voices, I sit in my rain, but I daren’t dream of rescue,
Suddenly the tears have warmth, it’s still oozing black, but it’s home,
The sky bleeds black tears, the voices raise a cacophony. I smile. I’m home.
Black tears rained down from my eyes,
The black things I hid under flowers came out screaming,
The flowers wilted, I still laboured to keep them blooming,
I sit in this wilderness of black, wishing this rain saves my flowers.
Inside the teardrop I see elephants roaming;
Voices echo across the waters as if moaning.
The elephants take the form of a child’s size,
They invade the teardrop under any guise,
Coloring the waters with feelings of deep blue,
Until they merge into a color of another hue.
Suns and moons rise in the drop and never set,
Entire oceans rebounded without offering regret.
The darkness of deep space suddenly awakens;
Universal light is born when darkness is taken.
Everything snugly contained within a single drop;
Emotions set on fire that no one can possibly stop.
Nothing discloses feeling as does a drop of tear;
We live complacently until our sorrows appear.
At once the body responds with its subtle fear;
The heart may shatter, while the eyes will smear.
The salty drop is pungent and salty to the taste;
We seek to wipe away our tears with undue haste.
In future, when sadness arrives, let your tears flow;
Universes will be born and they will begin to glow.
While in appearance tiny, in significance truly large,
Across the raging waters of a teardrop floats a barge.
It contains all of the emotions that we humans can bear;
We accept their message and still have emotion to spare.