Best Interposed Poems
Stare-well.! gazing..As emotions and souls to your Majestic fields aspire..
Temporal surrounds me, ambiguous background; below crested fallow moons.."
Amplified." Intensity' as stellar images fall silently; while cresendos of beauty abound
Innumerable shifts of light and dark in shaded displays make play! & re-plays are seen.
Roaming tails of light deny non-existence, "and pass on" in twillight realms...
Wholly indescribable energy masses pirouette; in an eternity of loose and endings"
Always immaculate ways, and untrod paths scintillate to Mercurial growth anon..)
Yea' though is interposed my earthly being; tis the more to highlight heavenly ways,
To rebirth.! "and with all glory" the celestial tapestry alludes to His-story.."
Orbs in incandescence implode.! as platignum stairways transpire..)
Though my script be no match.) the words not worthy of re-counting be, so let it be.!
Haze's of swirl glazed and gaseous liquid nimbus; gather possibility's beyond reason
Eclipse, is a true part of the many story's played upon this..! of aeons august stage.
Starry foot-light stair-well "to be or not to be"of such is all the honor i seek to attain,
True enrichment there'to is revolving; where'of my soul is to pertaining
And there my"die is cast..!as midst the maddening crowd" i cry with sullied eyes.)
Revering and wishing upon the great lights life i see in para-present skies
So i endure..passing all lights are.! await i "a mote of such to be,In the one Gods sight.
Copyright Joe Maverick.co.uk 2012 For Linda-Maries Stairway to the stars contest.
BULLETS!
If there ever was a time in the history of human, it is now that one’s being is
bound to civic duty impost.
He or she is a loyal citizen of his or her nation.
Intensified is the fortress bond of armory and strength.
Through our faith and courage, our minds and our heart have engaged vigor.
Dynamism is diversification via structure.
What is seen is statement beyond repose via strategy.
As we discuss the militant way, we centralize our thoughts
To suffering in other nations against dogmatic methods, systemically
approached the right to vote interposed by illegality of the election booth
intervened by bribes and other means to destroy equability.
What is seen is statement beyond repose via strategy.
Impartiality is an assured plus of unanimous.
Political leaders aboard focus on a suppressed nation through their views on
enslavement and incapacitate.
For sure, this is the Stalin’s views of the Ukraine orders retain.
To incarcerate through tenets of rapaciousness is cruel.
Therefore, what is seen is only a system of beliefs.
The Ukrainians must remain free to be at liberty.
______________________________________|
Verlena S. Walker
Penned on October 02, 2014!
Form: Decapentasyllabic Verse
RECIPE: “Poulet Roti” French Style - Ballade Le Chant Royal 6
(NOTE: This French “ballade” is being composed on permutations of the number ONE repeated twice, I.e., 11. Eleven syllables to the line in iamb or anapeste, interposed with dactyls, I guess, and of course with the ENVOI added. Eleven lines to the STANZA in eleven in res media “instalments”involving the minutely PERSONAL in interaction with the larger hoi polloi in relation to the STATE and its tentacular authoritarian apparatuses designed to keep the independent INDIVIDUAL always nailed in limbo.) T Wignesan
STANZA VI
“So why don’tya get out of this Third World hell !”
Near-East stronghold now in Maghreb stranglehold
Where Asians and Africans mingle pell-mell
Where the French affix sign-boards on their soil: “SOLD!”
The moonlight flit now turned to Indian rope trick
Where East Europeans come thick and homesick
To join the ranks of those from South-Euro lands
Who make much of the Far Right extremist brigands
Les français de souche* still commute to keep jobs
Like they once nostalgic did in foreign lands
The migrant refugee does odd jobs and robs
ENVOI
French lasses push prams with babes sunburnt inlands
No Tariq Ali* need turn back for want of bans
May the World colourless be sans hapless gods
Or will it taken over be by hooligans
The migrant refugee does odd jobs and robs
*Les français de souche: the French of stolid French ancestry.
*Tariq Ali, the Berber Moor alighted on the rock of Gibraltar, in 709 C. E. , with 30,000 horsemen, and by 711 had over-run the Iberian Peninsula, but Abdul Rahman al-Gafiqi, the Governor General of al-Andalus, who tried to extend the conquests further into Europe was halted in his tracks by the Frank Charles Martel at the Battle of Poitiers/Tours in 732.
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Things were not advancing much
though we hurtled across the tar;
conversation was grinding to a halt
& that was something
I needed desperately to avert.
“Ah! Yes,” he interposed quite eerily,
Having clearly read my thoughts, yet again:
“The halt and the lame
Will one day rule the highways.”
“An interesting proposition Bob,
Which also shows you have not
Lost your touch with words; indeed
I suppose you know all too well
How deeply words can touch.
I myself couldn’t think of a rhyme for ‘halt’
Or use it in just that way- like a gestalt-
So I do thank you so kindly for
Your paranormal interpolation.”
“It’s my work,” he returned drily, “I do
It for a pay and when it’s over
I’d just as soon go on my way.”
“ ‘Hurricane’ ” blurted I, “your protest
Song of high distinction! Well,
That’s my earnest, humble opinion.”
To which he just gave a longsidelong glance
Simultaneously wrenching the wheel hard left
And taking a minor exit quite unexpectedly.
“So,” I timidly enquired, “Bob,” ( I was working
Up to it), “Where exactly are we headed?”
He grinned a grimace as only he can
Which was as much to say I should have known.
“We’re goin’ down this road some to
Where the winds of war are still blowin’
For there’s still some good fodder there
For the wordsmith and the songster.”
That’s Bob, thought I, contented in this knowledge
(Which left me none the wiser), always purposely
Imprecise, speaking in a kind of cipher.
He must have sensed my discomfort then
And added a cryptic, though reassuring “After”
I boldly countered with “Before”
And he smiled knowingly.
This was a splendid game we played
A game and nothing more.
I was supping at his table
And he was serving up a feast.
I was the Frankie Lee perhaps
To Bobby’s Judas Priest, and there was
No telling who first would be released.
Life is imposed
By a great power, we suppose
Not something we chose
Just a thing we compose
Petals shrivel the rose
Blood runs down the nose
Gravity on all things is imposed
And eventually we are all deposed
And unlike the ones who arose
At the end of it all, we will remain forever disposed
Put away in an endless doze
Life, Death, Solitude and Resurrection.
But as the material decomposes
To our real selves we are interposed
Dressed in our spiritual clothes
A life this time we truly chose
And as the fleshy part is inherited by crows
We will be elsewhere, with nothing to oppose
No sin, because it is unnecessary
No kin, a new hierarchy
No one to ignore us
None to bore us
Only a rejuvenating vibration
In a new life, our true incarnation
She knew of all the finer things,
Like candlelight, and snow—
And she knew of love, the people say,
Albeit long ago.
She was rather fond of moonlight,
But of long-stemmed roses, too—
She was likewise fond of autumn,
And its turn of shade, and hue.
She was predisposed to wonder
At the butterfly, and bee—
Till interposed the winter wind,
And then eternity.
And since, she is remembered,
When the autumn breezes blow—
For she knew of love, the people say...
Albeit long ago.
The trill of the Nightingale
Reminded me of sleep—
As my mind began its wandering
Through a vale of downy sweep.
And I became a Poet,
In my imagistic style—
Sharing tea with Emily,
If only for awhile.
Then the stars became as diamonds,
A billion-one, or two—
As I became a richer man,
If only for the view.
Till there interposed a Meadowlark,
As Emily would say—
My mind no longer wandering,
As began a snowless day!
The tap and the sink had a brawl
(the pair being stuck to the wall)
the cold tap smashed the sink
with a crash and a plink;
serenely watched by the pee stall.
Interposed did tap’s buddy, drain,
(who held up the sink with a strain.)
Dear sink is in pieces;
her value decreases;
she once was so smart and urbane!
Passing through the cynosure valley and everywhere I turn, these ancient shadows appear ~
Conspicuous their manifesting themselves within any which way they choose....
Domained silhouettes, smiling as they approach myself; indents myriad of resolute views
Life, death, joy, pain, a million things, with as many voices amid this germane state!?
To confiscate, their reciprocals moment in interposed confusions, dance and sway
Quasis phantasms of resonant apparitions these eyes, fixated as they gaze
Upon a brand new day wherein dogma has lost its say; yesteryears obversive shadows....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“Passing, Through the Valley In Ancient Dreams” *
Motherly Love and Frowns
Treading down the memory lane streams to my mind
memories from far yet near, some sweet, some sour,
memories preciously shelved in the precincts of my inner sanctum;
so sweet were the mindful motherly hugs of love
like the embrace of a divine angel
so serene soft and self-assuring her smiles
like the spring selfless sunshine
so delicious her warm kisses on the forehead
that no other feel can replace,
yet interspersed at times with some harsh words
for playing hide and seek on the sideway street;
so soft was the caress of her hands on the cheeks
that not even a beloved can bestow
so cool and compassionate her cuddly care
no considerate nurse can dispense
so pleasing to rest on her merciful knees
more so after a hectic day`s fatigue,
yet interposed often times with some scowls
for dusting my clothing or getting home late after cycle rides;
In afterthought, her love and frowns have made me the man I am.
In the realm of true love, a man stands tall,
He never hides his feelings, he bares them all.
He fights for what’s right with unwavering might,
And never gives up on the ones he holds tight.
Sacrifices he makes for their ultimate gain,
Knowing that what’s meant to be will remain.
Though it may hurt, he believes in his heart,
That destiny brings back what’s torn apart.
Through trials and crises, he remains unafraid,
Expressing his love, not holding back, unswayed.
He prepares his heart for whatever reply,
Accepting the truth, he won’t make her comply.
He’ll never hurt her, physically or emotionally,
For he knows harming her is hurting himself ultimately.
Insults and abuse have no place in his heart,
For he loves her unconditionally from the start.
Her past doesn’t matter; he accepts her with grace,
Taking responsibility for his actions, he’ll embrace.
He treats her like royalty, a treasure untold,
And faces life’s battles, together they unfold.
He’ll express his feelings, his love on display,
Apologizing when wrong, pride put away.
Never giving up hope, he stays strong and true,
For he knows love perseveres, no matter what they go through.
Her wealth or status, it matters not to him,
He loves her for who she is, their souls in sync.
A true man, a gentleman, calm and composed,
A source of joy, fun, and love interposed.
He’s an encouragement, inspiration, and motivation,
An emotional support, his care knows no limitation.
He’s a best friend, brother, and passionate lover,
A future he envisions, their dreams they’ll discover.
Financial condition won’t define their bond,
Together they’ll work, a future they’ll abscond.
Respecting her loved ones, cherishing her dear,
Trust and honesty build a love that’s sincere.
He stands for his beliefs, unwavering and strong,
A man of morals and principles, never in the wrong.
He never forces, but lets her choose her own way,
He’s her soul mate, her Adam, come what may.
In him, true love finds its perfect reflection,
A man embodying love in its purest affection.
He loved her, protected her
She loved him, honored him
But you separated their kinds
Their species, their only human cell
Their love that grew wider
You destroyed it by your only filthy hands
With a grin, with a smile, with a hatred
You watched them fight
You watched them erase all love that was written in mind
With a flip of a finger, with an order
You took away the day
The day they were supposed to wed with laughs and peace
You changed her, forced her, controlled her
With droplets of blood interposed into her
With your greed, you caused the wounds
The injures, the never stoppable cries !
The sins that are never to be forgiven
You drove him into the battle strength less
Not able to fight
Not able to fight you’re sister, you’re family
What has gotten into your mind???
I see your ice-cold heart never breaking, never feeling
Never tasting a spark of red burning fire
You take in the pleasure in seeing them die?
What are you?
Even wolves and vampires have sympathy to other kinds?
So why were you keep aside to do the forbidden and murder souls
And all that is kept in mind…???