Best Discoursed Poems
Either struggle at talking now,
Or struggle in armament later,
Deal with the battle inside yourselves,
Or get others to face your fiery hater.
Talking and discussion are always best,
Considering and exchanging views,
Concerning yourself with the other way,
Appreciating what they've already given you.
Opposing sides mean two different opinions,
Two points of view to be explored;
The conception of war is not something alien,
’Cos redirection only means a discoursed poured.
Peace does not mean dissolution,
It vestiges an agreement between two sides,
That one has superseded and attained power,
With grit, determination and more besides.
War injures so many people,
That a dialogue should exist strong and giving,
And before hostility and struggle become national,
Diplomacy should be the politician’s living.
DAFFODILS
daffodils thrive in very late
Winter
with
no reflection of their beauty
which
is
readily discoursed before other
buds
blossom
daffodils
alive
because rains have been plentiful
yellow
same
as dandelions which scatter
by
wind
but daffodils are planned
not
promiscuous
3/11/2021
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
The Imam of the way of life, calls of prayer,
Traverses from the tower, to reach all ears,
Men in worldly activities, momentary – engrossed,
Set themselves free, to a transitory stop.
In reverence, all and one, orient them to the land,
Where the last prophet of God, discoursed on parched sand,
Adam, Ibrahim, Moses, Jesus all converge in a path,
For the vision of Gabriel, and revelations, no mirth;
Complete surrender visions life, to one illiterate of script,
With the magical touch of an angel, put messengers fear to sleep,
The creator of humankind, bestowed in him thoughts,
The creation of Adam, from a blood clot;
The disgrace shall disappear, by the Allah’s will,
Immerse yourself in good, for kith and kin your feel,
Serve your guests generously, and help the destitute,
For it is the same angel of Moses, who protects the secret truth;
“May peace be upon them”, the world echoes in faith, good,
To transgress humanity, into “Universal Brotherhood”;
i am contrite when i contrive when i ruthlessly deprive
i relate when i sedate when i have a happy plate-
my remorse is discoursed thoroughly,
forced to pout with a broken snout-
my plight is to unite to stop the fight &
begin anew facing the same direction,
to gnaw & chew away the infection,
to leave no flesh to fester.
don't think this clever, the endeavor is
wet soap tumbling from my hands- i'm just
the dope clinging, pretending i'm cleaning,
singing incoherently, blatantly losing 'it'
(coincidently he / she / it / they
developmentally disabled) the label enables much
discrepancy much room to squirm betwixt firm
boundaries & morals mixed (such a beast must be fixed)
quarrelsome quaint & transfixed
at the concept- socially inept suddenly-
(intercept the spirit, pretend hard not to fear it)
I walked on the sun and did not see the light
I walked through the graveyard with nary a fright
In childlike wonder I took no delight
I walked through the valley of death and I lived
Shared a moment of passion I know not who with
And slowly found out I have nothing to give
I walked down a path by the light of the moon
I learned how to dance and I learned how to swoon
And I sharpened my tongue with intention to wound
I walked by a shadow alone in the dark
Discoursed with him silently just for a lark
We walked until morning and found the world stark
I buried the shade of me under a tree
And went 'bout my business with purposeful glee
Taking solace in knowing I never would be.
"Moonlights Riddle"
"Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin bittersweet songs
Of melodies pure & true
Sayn
This is my message to you" (Bob Marley)
Beautiful soul
Tarnished in pain
Stained by woes decisions
Neddle points precision
Cuts deep
Underneath
We all bleed
Underneath
We all need
We all breathe
Breath
Underneath
We all suffocate
we all, We All, WE ALL
Just need to breathe, BREADTH
We all need to just breathe free
Sometimes
We all need to just move our feet
Sometimes
We all get bogged down in the rythym
Out of rythym
Sometimes
We are all just trying our best to adjust
Sometimes
We are all just trying our best to find adjustment
Just trying our best to find our way
Out of tune
In need of a tune up
Sisters Brothers
Mothers Fathers
Sons & Daughters
Loved & Lost
Lost & Loved
Missed
Broken strings & cords
In discourse
Discoursed thru missed accordance
Lost & Found
Daughters & Sons
Fathers Mothers
Brothers Sisters
Missed
Loved & Lost
Lost & Loved
Found Again
If Only For Just This One Instance
Walking The Same Roads Different
CROSSING PATHS
7/1/19(edit)10/21/21
My souls are dying because you love in hell. Please do not be discoursed if I am here. You well fall [my love and death] well come to you and please do not distrust my work. I am not done in the world you see. It is becoming the 7th day you my children are making it for me. In the past you well find the future. If we die I have a back up plane. It consists on Orion's belt. What do you think I told the Faro?? Jesus was looking at you when you were born, lived and died. Now hell is coming. I well die if I have anything to say about it. When I get back to the highest heaven I well question in killing the ******* or the devil.
Today’s world a chaotic gone,
Lies in sly a'Babylon,
That came to be a polemic,
With filth of doctrine a chronic sick,
That claims to know the truth so well,
But in truth their pride doth swell,
Just before his lightning fall,
So full of pride all in all,
Stubborn as was, is can be, whom speaks against this misery,
Will no to live but death to be,
One thing for sure, that strong men gone,
Where are they now to defend the fawn?
All flesh is built, but hearts so weak,
Call them strong, in truth they meek,
Seeing this way, the brute take charge,
Endless torment to the marge.
What’s so strange that religion calls,
To confuse the minds of one an all’s,
Diabolical though! Not only who preach,
But sheeps that thrives this insidious speech,
No not where, they head to be,
They fall as prey to this heresy,
That lingers along not without,
But in the hearts of those who doubt.
Appeals the strength of God we know’r,
Denies the humility which more a’glore,
Came for one and only one reason alow,
To submit all to Mammonhomet below,
It seems so strange a candy’s wrap,
In its kernel a’full of crap,
That is what excites those hearts,
Filled with ‘I’s so torn aparts,
If thou speak a word to it,
In your face shall all doth spit,
Mock thee till you feel remorse’d,
Of the true truth you discoursed,
So much so, isolated you feel,
Hard to come by and get a meal,
That even your own rejected you,
Now I feel truly blue,
But I say, a Poet’s word,
Strength yourself, an Eagle’s Bird,
Soar high and let none beat you down,
Hold firm to Crucem, lest you drown,
Keep at it, so long as you live,
For the Triune One will graciously give,
True reward of eternal bliss,
A vision of his Godhead, never a’miss.
The sun shown down
on the silken town
and magic was her name
ten thousand rooms
had come to tomb
and in the desert lain
The magics source
had once discoursed
the runes and tomes were gone
It's arrogance
had brought it hence
she lost her gift of song
from dusk to dawn
the sand grinds on
the grave in which she lay
Knowledge once was there
So much to spare
too much was thrown away
All the abuse
that she had loosed
turned on her one day
The common man
about the land
sought magic to keep at bay
What was lost
cannot be found
but now is dust
upon the ground
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Water! Water! The entire landscape submerged
Grave silence! Except the torrents swift and huge
Intimidating sights, plains and valleys merged
Rushing above the tops of roofs with a surge
Clergymen discoursed it the Almighty's curse
The end of epoch, predictors prophesied
Scientists explained it an eco inverse
Country folk acknowledged it ill-fate and cried
Swept by it the colonies of little birds
Corpses drained by the rapid gush of water
Crashed , ruinous, inexplicable for words
Haphazard the course of life by its slaughter
Debris and uprooted trees drained by the flows
Disfigured the pretty landscape of lush green
Distressing sights remained as heart rending woes
Destruction with all its diabolic spleen
Life becomes an endless and relentless fight.
By mingling, can't we make an adaptation?
Western and Indians' viewpoints may be right
But harming nature leads to degradation
Place : 2nd
Better to slip through
than run over
Better to finesse
than to force
Better to persuade
than to dictate
Discretion
—all meaning discoursed
(Dreamsleep: September, 2019)
I
As things do return home like a refrain,
On way back from a country tour were we,
A leisurely long trip—my kin and me,
And met a quaint character on the train,
As I recall, in his late life, nigh vain,
His dress and demeanour indicative,
And we at sea the way he seemed to talk,
His deportment and dialogue of proud cock,
Who discoursed on any a theme on earth,
A Muslim sure from far, not a native,
Listening to him was, not his tale’s worth,
Yea, something sure was there that was not sane.
The Goddess of Learning and Destiny
Seemed to have blessed him— of ports so many,
Who said, forces were at work in the world
Far too secretly, underground, unheard:
Russians, say, have advanced closer to us,
Brit policies have been inauspicious,
Feuds among our leaders have come to head,
Confused and suspicious who see things red.
And flourished our newly formed friend in train
With phony smile: What might cause further pain—
More things happen under and ‘pon this earth
Than reported are as the news of worth.
The home-bound birds like us that had not seen
The world he had, struck were dumb with wonder,
What with his quotes on science, his comments
On Vedas, verses of Persian poets.
Our young ears, untutored to this knowledge,
Caused our admiring bone to turn attuned,
Sure, a magnet, occult power, an astral
Body some sort doubtless has him inspired,
We listened to him with keenest of ears,
Devout mind, he’d our heart all enraptured.
The train reaching a railhead, we waited
In a retiring room, tired and jaded,
As change of train weighed when heavy on eyes.
‘Train's running late', when someone made us wise,
Our wise man then set out a tale to spin,
And our sleep said goodbye with a wry grin!
____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.