Best Enrobe Poems
Each day we only have one task
To live our life to our very best
Sometime we hide behind a mask
Even when we do our very best
Though the future can look bleak
It doesn't mean that we are weak
Sometimes we need to shed a tear
We were strong at the very start
For out of the blue a mask we wear
What became of that strong heart
Why can't those feelings we speak
For our true self that we now seek
We thought that there was a place
Our true self from the world hide
But was there really such a place
Or did we just hide behind our pride
New day is dawning so does a task
Start a new day take off that mask
Now it time to rewrite your life story
As each day you can face tomorrow
You won't have to be enrobe in glory
Doesn't mean there won't be sorrow
Living is about overcoming life task
Knowing you can live without a mask
Spring's luster is dewed anew each morning
While Summer moods doom fear of Winter's cost.
'Til Fall, the redness sender gives us warning
That soon Winter's spider redips its web of frost.
Spring's flower is a sire wolf fang piercing ground.
Summer's sunburn warming is a sign I'm raw.
Fall's arrival now is sensuousness I won in beauty crowned
In swirling blizzard, was it a boreal aerobat I saw?
Awaken Spring. A sleeper as late petals are peels to bloom.
So enrobe, Summer. A harem muse borne upon winds is nicer
Than rot aroma inward drawn. I am orator of Fall's perfume.
Winter rec. It's a lyre (vanilla). All in a very last icer!
10.12.18
Contest: Palindromes II
Note: each line progresses one season and each stanza is a year.
Cloaks of Presumption
Three Steps to the Bench. Three steps.
Enrobed in black, as though to mourn their sorry role,
The Judges Ascend
Somberly attired, as if grieving their dastardly work,
The Judges Ascend
In the most solemn garb, as if wishing an epitaph to their horrific duties,
The Judges Ascend
They are charged, with a terrible task:
To decide the life of a man.
How presumptuous!
How utterly unjust!
To dare suppose that one man may hold himself-
As the skies hold themselves over the earth.
As the mountains hold themselves over the plains.
As the trees hold themselves over the grasses.
As if one man may be endowed- by yet other men-to execute an impossible role.
To be appointed to the august role of arbiter of life and death.
To assume, in all its omnipotence, the job of Providence.
An impossible task to fulfill.
Under those black cloaks rest not the administrator of Justice, but rather, the personage, in all its horror- of Satan.
Holding themselves as a welcome respite from cruel tyranny-
These men are in truth even further sunk in the abyss of injustice.
To enrobe oneself in the grand tapestry of Democracy, all the while being as detestable as a nominal despot.
These solemn robes-stained with the indelible guilt of a thousand lives-incapable of being judged, shroud those who shall soon, in all their invincible omniscience, issue the verdict.
Somewhere, a gavel bangs.
The Trial has begun.
Form:
I can introject myself wind
and be out spreading words,
I can clothe as a cloud
and hovering in life...
I can vesture as i were a king and
live deceiving the people...
I can apparel in luxury
and confront the needy...
can i costume with
boredom and living on appearances...
I can enrobe with all
clothes and I won't be real...
Only dressed in my
nudity and without vanity
I will find the truth... !