Best Expectance Poems
“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”
The 'umbilical cord',
hereby symbolic,
its severance
where
initiated,
a soul of three,
and then much more.
Growing up was an
in-depth shared
furtherance,
whereupon,
directives were encountered,
either embraced or tossed aside.
Time and again, instant moments,
encouraging considerations,
imbued ponderance,
whereto,
we tether ourselves
to a sizeable pole of justifications.
Hail to a fitness club, or a cab to a McDonald's,
intermittent intervals, slim down or fatten up,
choice batters about a pole that remains,
until life expectance,
leans awkward,
wherefore
for time indulgence,
slacks a major facet as the pole evolves minor,
for one's immediate concerns, lies elsewhere, a priority.
All the while, the pole was steadfast but never silent
taking a backseat to the urgencies of the moment
significance tallies the hours near,
wherein
one now realizes that time is fleeting,
wonders how one's pole has shaped itself, was it worth their while.
At that instant, open their eyes
and see the poles that are
standing around them
bedside so they can
measure their
worth truly.
Where
we mete
out ourselves
to whom we truly
Blessed Assurance.
Voices and screams wailing from the face of the world,
There is nothing but the days of Sodom and Gomorah
Soils of syria turns to ashes
The world is now a melting pot,
Jets and planes rocketing the face of the sky Visions from Sango are no more
Oh shame !
where the word love have gone
That world of tranquility and harmony without destructions,
Without tankers and hummers from united states trolling the lands of Sudan for peace in wars they start
In Ethopia my sisters are dying Alshabaab ravage the land ,dry bones are living in subjugation
In the name of power and sovereignity M23 turn to bullies
Everyday is a blood bath, (le) fleuve congo flow with hatred
Skies have gone grey with the mist from barrels
Mother is crying in Afighanstan for her baby son his life expectance reduces to 24 hours and living life is now by grace not by choice
Even the air we breath some one wants to take control and gain popularity out of it
I see power hungry turns our brothers into good guys with bad hearts
Yesterday it was father now its my own brother
Why is it that power turns to corrupt absolutely
Boko Haram is seeking all virgins of the land
And to my aquintances may be its only i left to fill this hole of earth and
I guess to vultures gone are the days of hunger
But why is it that we presume to be free but everywhere in chains
We work for them and they eat for us
They sing for us and we dance according to their tune
Precept
Turbulation through existance and time
Never trying to counteract the pieces of twine
That is trying to rip me apart
Clinging to the expectance of someone else
Reaching but collapsing again and again
Maybe nature in charge of its own course and mine
Precept is my only light
Once more then shall I engage
Once more shall I endeavor
Once more precept
Shall be my eternal vitality
By:
Tammy R. Flanagan
Take time to be experience and experienced to be lived. Life is everywhere it implies anything. The cruel we wish for others can turn out to be the future we are planning for our very selves. The eye that sees evil is the eye that duels evil. Lack of amity the sense of humanity fading away float in time with open mind... A quest; a chance of riddled thought: An Answer; pained and overwroughtelected to be eliminated, my words are my deeds. I was not born to be bound but to fight for what I represent. Infinity squared, then seeks to find If bravely we have given all, for who can ask more of a man than giving all within his span, it seems to me, is not so far from – Victory. Therefore, the fates are seldom wrong, no matter how they twist and wind, It’s you and I who make our fates, we open up or close the gates, On the Road Ahead or the Road Behind. Someone had better be prepared for rage. There would be more than ocean-water broken before God's last *Put out the Light* was spoken. Underneath the wagon where people search for answers while the question was never been asked but the look was already given. That simply lies in the steps we take and the fear. Sensational revolutions the dynamic quell of life living in the wish and expectance of death! Let it be your wish equivalent to your will just when you have seen and experienced the sweetest tripods of life as life dimension its intact in tripods. When you have live to a certain point left with no other choice captured in sorrows living an unwanted life as if you are been punished. Its all a matter of time.
On the eve of, demand. Betrayal was rising.
The voice of strength evaded me.
The knife pushed deeper in.
Darkness awoke within me. Its grip squashing the life I thought I had.
I hate you. I despise you.
You killed the life within me. The cracks kept showing.
I died a thousand deaths, t he memory burned out my frontal lobe.
No words of truth or lies to bind those charred connections.
Twisted expectance of soliloquy to compete with these
Mounting streams of inner wars, they all purge me
With heavenly fire but they feel like antagonizing strings of strife
A thousand arrows aimed at my hearts beating drum.
No mirth or merry go round ride to quench this drying adrenaline rush
Struck at the top with the loose end, going wild
The wind up here is so loud; my ears are crashing because of these revelations
These outlandish antics whip and bruise my face
They like fleeting backward incomprehensive syllables.
I am trying to fathom the meaning of the it.
Those words I thought I understood they lost their meaning the second I tried to say them out loud to myself.
It feels like nothing makes sense. The meaning this is all too clear
The end is nigh.
Can you smell it in the air?
Can you feel it on the wind?
Can you hear it in my breathing?
My lungs are contracting. The floor is slipping
My world is crumbling. It is falling out of its orbit
How will I survive?
I just can’t take this anymore!
Take me over already!
Don’t hold back. I won’t hold back. I am open.
My fighting spirit is not responding. No retaliation. I am all yours.
The reality hazes my eyes and I am lost to the darkness.
Forever trapped in a nightmare of bitter dreams.
As I plunge over to the other side.
A light pierces my darkness and I see your face.
Your smile and laughter, a melodious song calling back to sanity
But as soon the detail starts to solidify
The sun sets and I’m plunged back into the abyss
The cold follows soon after.
Geniuskin
On the morn of the eve of infinity
Saw the eyes of a stranger I knew
As she danced to the tune of the Devil
By the silvery light of the moon
I said " Lady I came here for drinkin'"
But her burning gaze finished my sentence
She said " Sir! Won't you tell me your secret
And I'll be your queen of repentance"
So soldier or sailor live life to the last
Believe in the truth of expectance
For in some dark tavern or shady bordello
You may meet her the queen of repentance
Then her hand held mine like a grape to a vine
With a promise of pleasures untold
And this angel or wraith was to replace my faith
And shone light in a soul turned cold
So soldier or sailor come tell her your secret
For she's your last chance of redemption
Let the black in your soul be replaced by the light
Where no sin is too great for exemption
I see a girl who hurting, yet hides the tears she cries,
I see a girl, who tries to be brave when ‘ere she meets hard times,
I see this girl ignore the taunts and jeers of all her “friends”,
She bears the scorn her own family shows every time that it happens,
She has few friends who care for her, who understands her pain,
But people try to break her heart by turning her friends to hate,
This girl she hides behind a mask of expectance not dread,
When deep inside her heart is tearing her dignity to shreds,
I know this girl, she is my friend, and I understand her, you see,
I feel the pain she feels inside, because that girl lives inside me.
A hazy sunshine fills the empty room
The light creating a mixture of
serene fog and dancing rays
A figure forms in the haze
floating on air
and holding a staff with a golden head
It waves the fog around into
rainbow-coloured circles
Some small, some big
All concentric
and encasing two shapes
They radiate a lenitive breeze
and the scent of roses
I hear a slight rhythm
emanating from its edges
consuming all air in the room
My lips fall dry,
then moisten
with a cinnamon taste
My body quakes
My teeth beat together
ungracefully
Stricken by terror and
expectance at once
I can feel the tightness around my waist
as the two shapes embrace
as if caught in the hollow warmth
between them
Trickles of sweat
run between my eyes
severing the rays
Bird calls ring through
and start lining into inaudible verses
My heart races and I start to quiver
I’m blind, and deaf
and covered by a warm sheath
Tell me, my love
Do you feel it too?
Imprints
Expectance can be shattered by reality
But reality can be crippled by your steps
Be careful of the imprints that you leave
For they are the guidance of your childrens future
Before the growth in the fields
of inevitable verses,
before the grass falls asleep
in expectance of a violin,
before the faning chestnut-tree
fondles me with its thoughts...
Before the violets paint themselves
with a haze of a bird indifference
before i hear an impuden laugh
of an acid rain,
before the burning of the butterflies
at the stake of the spring temple...
The crocus was alone
and saffron from impatience.
The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth that hardly opens –
breathes in the fresh wind of the stone-pines.
To speak to the stars,
to write out signs –
that can be learnt.
It is known by the astrologers, magi,
illusionists, newspapermen.
All this can be learnt.
To be in conformity
with the expectance.
That is the art
of the skilful ones, the thought of the blind men.
People who sing in the boat
that has sailed off, do they know?
Does the sand remember other steps
but those of the children?
The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth breathes in – the fresh wind
of the stone-pines.
Father is Forthright
Till you are right
Father is upright
Till you are straight
Father is Outright
Till you set right
??Father is the guide
Till you Ride
Father is the friend
Till the life end
Father is the philosopher
Till you won't commit error
Father is present
Till you become recent
Father is Nurture
Till your Future
Father becomes past
To make you fast
Father
The Creator of the opportunity
To make everything's possibility
Father
The Curator of the facilitation
To see optimum utilization
Father is the Life force
To keep energy in force
Father infuses goodness
To shape in Wellness
Father imparts Firmness
To keep in steadiness
Father Instills power
To infuse all vigor
Father is Accommodative
To lead the life qualitative
Father nourishes in continuance
To Increase the life expectance
Father' s action is full of Thrill
To vent out the feeling of ill
Father the protector of very nature
To keep up the variable fact of creature
Father respects diversified
Biological life with agility
To deal respective changes in
The lifestyles of fragility
Father cares with Cosmic Nature
To protect to be alive without fear
None other than the father
can do the best for you
Salutations to all
the Fathers
As I close the curtains on wavering thoughts,
How did you bare the pain of your body’s conflict?
The mirror on the wall captures a picture of my hurt,
Tears fall as I wait for the mists of my pain to lift.
So many answers needed but now laid to rest,
My confusion as to “Why You?” never known.
Expectance the only option, for what else is there?
Solutions like an hour glass, empty and long gone.
Left shocked and broken, when reality hit home,
The battle within you raged, way out of your control.
A parasitic army draining you of strength and life,
Your loss leaves me numb right through to my soul.
As others watched helpless, you were falling,
Into the waiting arms of a better place.
Where pain and illness will never touch you,
I hope you smiled as you gave into it’s embrace.
We’ll all miss you, but know you will be smiling,
You will be remembered with love in our hearts.
At night I will always have a thought for you,
I will look for your face in the stars.
©.L.Kelly
#"NOT MUSIC TO MY EARS..."
Beeps, Bleeps, Bells and Whistles in a Hospital Setting, Netting The Feeling to the Ears of Sharp Prickly Thorny Thistles That Nestle's The EARS of One's Very Soul, Rendering COLD Hypnotic, Robotic Timed Unwanted Lyrics In A Setting that's Unsettling and Upsetting...Yet, the Resetting of Unyielding Chimes Define a Disturbed Mind And BODY; I Beg Mercy On Me To Please Stop and Finally Cease...If Only For Few Mere Moments to Receive PEACE And RELEASE From This RELENTLESS CHORUS...
A CHORESOME ACCEPTANCE WITH NO EXPECTANCE OF SUBSIDING.
MEANWHILE, I SWIM AND IMMERSE IN THIS SYMPHONY CURSE AND THE RHYTHMS INSIDE, COINCIDE...
BUT, NOT AGAINST MY UN-WANTING!#
2/3/2018 ©Renee Denise Gross
Arjuna, a grand warrior, well habited to,
Fight against nastiest of warrior crew;
Finds himself faced with kith and kin
To fight a war, hence, he fears within;
Dilemma-filled he calls out to God,
God hears him and hurries to his aid;
Erasing the doubts shrouding him,
He bids him his duties to perform;
Duty of a warrior is fighting, he says,
Not ever thinking of victory of loss;
Pleasure or pain or victory or defeat
Reckon on actions with no deceit;
Fighting against inner inclinations,
Demeanors, evil desires, illusions;
Losing all that’s imperfection within,
Combating to gain the life’s soul win;
Knowledge combined with love is ideal,
Action and no inaction – must be real;
Doing duties with no fruit expectance,
Must be the pursuit of human existence;
Though it may not be always possible,
Striving towards it is, indeed, feasible...
05 July 2021