Best Pertinence Poems
Koorosh the Great, Friend
All of my heart
One tear
Or one Monsoon
No amount, no grandeur
Can express the sorrow
Oh yes, I am sad, I am saddened
I am in sorrow
I am swimming in the darkness
I am missing something
That can not be said in words
Koorosh the great was a prophecy
For only now have we seen
The truth of greatness
Not by Victory, but by kindness
We are blessed to have seen
How simple life can be
Love your life
Your family
Your friends
Bring everyone laughter
Create, envision and dream
Everyone who knows you feels special
Your father taught you well
Kindness that transcended generations
In the end
A humble man
No god could make him bitter
He was as he always was and more
A kind man
Only when you remove a tree from the garden
Do you realize
The tree was the garden
The flowers bloomed for the tree
The people sought shade and comfort
Quietly, I weep
For him
For his family
For life
If all great leaders followed his path
What a beautiful world we would have
He inspired
He smiled
Corey, you are missed
Notes: Dedicated to my friend Corey Fazel who just recently passed away before his time. Corey, you will be missed by many many people. It is you with your friendly pertinence that got me to swim, and that alone has changed my life, I will remember the many evenings and dinners we talked about all things under the sun.
MSA is Multiple System Atrophy, a terrible and debilitating disease that attacks the nervous system. It has many of the symptoms of Parkinson, however from onset one has very few years of life left.
I feel invisible and ignored
After I revealed my actual age.
Everyone sees right through me.
I haven't turned into a sage.
There was a time I could turn heads
When I walked down the street.
I pretended not to notice but
I truly thought that it was neat.
Then came that certain birthday
When the age flag was unfurled.
The fact I was growing older
Was revealed to the whole world.
My beautician and I decided
To not color my hair any more.
Suddenly my hair was snowy white
And not auburn as before.
I am not only invisible,
I am also mute it seems.
No one sees me or hears me.
I'm not on anyone's esteems.
My two daughters are having
An interesting conversation.
I try to add a lucid thought.
They ignore my explanation.
They're talking about their children
And nothing I have to say
Would have pertinence or interest
To clever children of today.
No one is cruel or unkind,
I rather wish they were,
At least I would know I was visible,
Which is something I would prefer.
Written: 4/28/16
Itz,
cigar litany,
sun-glass villainy,
functional function-ability-
operating a pertinence undue to the mean-streak-
my man was a real porter but not so Greek-
hella' greedy like the weak,
hairy in ecstasy,
sternly speeding within his hoarse feet,
he'd leverage the wage against a narrowing bridge,
fitting neatly into scenes,
he'd soccer around his thing to bring out the majority of me.
In an Instant
A towering temple of trust
Is not built in a day, in an instant
But spans over years and years;
From laying of its base of sincerity
To its inner shrine of beauty
It is wrapped with the cement of honesty
Sprinkled with water of love and care
Mixed with rock sand of confidence
Sealed with iron bars of resistance
And set with the bricks of pertinence.
Yet, the temple crumbles in an instant,
Its towers turn to heaps of dust
And its shrine is reduced to ashes
With the venom of mistrust,
With the spleen of treacherous acts
That shake the very base of confidence,
Like earthquakes that smash down palaces,
Like the shot of heavy missiles
That ravage all on their way
In a moment, in an instant.
Crossing thresholds of blooms and dewdrops of glorious spring,
Toward autumn proudly walks season-bride with golden ring;
Her costumes, robes of ballet dancers, as per scenes, changes,
Facets of nature alter her charm to cosmic ranges...!
Scotching sun transforms mossy leaves, to golden-churns,
Clement breeze, once exited the stage, into storm-gust, returns;
Painful to bid goodbye to beloved trees, leaves linger,
Yet, get shaken off by now-twig-turning, dry-tree-finger...!
Constellation composes puzzled riddled strange stories,
Church-bells jingle mingling mysteries and histories;
Et-tu-Brute - one could hear Julius Caesar cry loud,
Senators encircle him, as though, for their goals, they're proud...!
Traces of moon gets gut-split; glowworm-stars glitter around,
Clouds, Indian widows in wild white, move, no safe paths found;
Master Craftsman pursues and persists painting scenes serene,
Brushes, disobliging, spill paints-mixes gaudy and sheen...!
Flocks of tribal nomads grazing on moss-grassland valleys,
Resemble ides-sheep of Jupiter; relishing rallies;
Peacock butterflies float, like goddess Anna in rose-hill,
In marriages of myths and truths, moods merrily chill and thrill...!
Harmonious chorus of sky and seas brings pertinence,
Parameters of perfection pave paths of permanence,
Paradoxes of joys, angst... it possesses plethora,
Ides-of-March! Not time! Not season! It's eternal era...!
28 March 2022
This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
If once broken,
Cannot be mended.
So crestfallen,
Endless bereavement!
It is trust,
I talk about.
Carefully we must,
Handle it around.
All aren't worthy,
Likewise the few.
Treat it lowly,
Later you rue.
Faith once lost,
Is gone forever.
Peace stays not,
Agony you savour.
It does haunts,
Like ghosts overhead.
You, it taunts,
Your solitude led.
"Don't trust easy!"
Said experience.
Sneered augury,
Whence, promised pertinence.
A heart that falls at the mention of words
A mind so strong, made meek
Questions I pose many, to forget
The moment dreaded now, a memory later
Life tears but threads to sew.
A halt offered absence to yearn
Appreciated value found in a return
My day cured by a nurturing art
All the woes diminished by a pen
Giving up is an option lost again.
The eyes of another may not meet mine
Differences, a speciality that entices rivals
Walking away, often denied by impulse
Amends made through unspoken lines
The hate shown confused by a love that grows.
Pertinence does the detail show
A thought offering a brighter hue
Freedom yielded, by progress
Confidence stealing time, irrecoverable
Modesty enabling an opportunity to hone.
Emotional instability, concealed through expression
A fearless smile thriving, in the knowledge of a reprieve
The weight that drags, converted to suspenders
My destiny I pursue - the writings, my own.
There she is, rainbow hued, hazy viewed clues.
The whistle chimed waves clear her unspoken throat.
Pardon Lady's wispy tension, a molder of falling sand.
A maker of details form the reality of dreamlife.
It is not man-made, it's spirit.
From one withheld, on a roof full of heating.
It's the heart vision, it's her only heart vision,
The only seer of the whole.
The sea dragon's bucket of snails
make it through the tunnel portal,
and we all gather through.
There Lady then goes,
off to the Wizard's shell. He's cloaked in
red and white, the colors of woman and man.
They're both pleading, seething,
kneeling beside the shelled faces.
Sparks, that near cover her wreathed, flowered, dress of sea flowers.
As iridescent pyramid easter eggs rain down.
Armored in bright lace, the rhythms of twirls and braids shall
claim pertinence to the deep blue whale's song, the whale clothed
in water, salt, and Lady's most hidden dreams.
A Wizard Whale's Lady, protected with beauty.
Zero point with no ego, no confession to claim.
The breathed memory between her salty fingers
lights a candle to rebirth her soul.
Hello my little fellow,
long lost pearly weeping willow,
I've come to find my ocean.
My voice adorned with sight.
I flew to and from her, a maker of undone.
She was veiled in white memory,
a blanket of weight brushed off her.
A flaming moment floating in her watery hoping heart.
Sunk under sun drenched waters,
gazed shackles flew away.
Exceeding through three door frames,
not separate from the grey portrait of a sculpture.
Tightly knit and finely tuned,
with heavy chisels of confirmation.
I will spit if I have to, and then I will cry after.
For I will only listen to my bloody heart.
The emotions are blatant, the tuned in
question that purge's forth,
is more meaningful with an identity gone.
But we are never lost,
we are dreaming in the ocean's Wingdom,
the Angel's castle cloud held tight.
Love,
Alyssa Couture
Starseeds
I confess
We are blessed
The world has secrets
Our Lord reveals it
High energy and frequency
Released within me
Traveled distance
Without resistance
Father reminds
Journey your mind
Recovery
Love is our discovery
Graciousness
Forgiveness
Enlightenment
Paleoenvironment
Preparation
Elevation
God Expressionist
Playfulness over Illusionist
Truth set
Preciously kept
What an honor
God strength and valor
Creator sight
Conquers with light
Appurtenance
Ordinance
Pertinence
Revelance
Tutelage
God law of privilege
The Holy Spirit
Our Lord does give it
Released our light from God
Seen through the fog
Love offer receiving
Through the power of believing
Tremble
my arms are around you
I meld
Into the void I simply am held
I know you
Are you around
Come out of hiding
Don't make a sound
I like to know you are helped by my pertinence
I am so fervent and distance so learned
I place my arms around you
You choose to be with me
I learn that you're near me
you can't deceive me
We walk in a park
Cold and bleak and dark
The moon shines and covers us
Tremble..
You are spoiled by my touch
end all
And I simply can not reach
Stave off the cold
My jacket around you
I make you bold
I breath warmth into you
Cover you and discover you
I recover the last breath of your secret
I understand you
Listen to my input
I want you to be great
Walk with me, near me
Enter my fate.
The complete opposite of a man…
Existence is unique and never less than.
Her presence can be compelling and desirable,
Forthright, like a force from nature, unstoppable!
Exuding feminine qualities that are mesmerizing,
So much so, that it’s uncanny and amazingly hypnotizing.
In a noble manner that she sees fit to fashion,
She is capable of undeniable passion.
When she loves, her emotions prevail,
Her warmth and loyalty with adoration we hail,
For her wholesome nurturing shall never fail.
In respect to her genuine, moral sense,
A being that epitomizes beauty and intelligence,
So with this I say with pertinence,
Show a woman honor, respect, to emphasize her importance.
A fond thought,
kept so secretive,
rarely waves its goodbye;
close hearts are driven apart
by an unseen force very negative,
unable to unmake their destiny...
Love gives strength,
when everything else
provides no solid hope,
and as we aimlessly grope
our way up a slippery slope:
with the illusion of finding a treasure of glaring gold;
is indulgence gratified by our hasty ways of pertinence...
forgetting to be excessively lenient?
A fond thought,
once vivid and unfought,
loses its meaning through incertitude,
by attempting another substitute;
emotions are steeped in truthfulness
and devotion is built on mutual faithfulness,
if these don't exist,
trust cannot persist...
The loveliest thought
brings two together by a perceived concept;
take it away from them, with vehemence,
and they'll show great intolerance...
A fond thought
conveys no contempt;
it only imparts its sincerity,
when it attains clarity...
Even though we choose to be who we wish to be,
Whilst moments put us somewhere to see the happiness hidden behind the scenes.
Splitting whatever kind of oneness into pieces.
What a name have to be mentioned for so long when we congratulate each other for good days?
Even though we plan to see ourselves beautiful in our own eyes,
The pictures to be seen when we stand in front of a mirror.
Two good points got to make us real outside lies;
Wearing the cap of TRUTH and SELFLESSNESS with vigor.
Being amazed by our own words needs to strengthen the hope of the left alone,
Drawing patterns to elicit no segregation against perfection on the phone.
Maybe whoever the world wants you to be is somewhere different?
Give them a revelation.
Point to them your presence in the game is marked by pertinence.
Sometimes it can't be explained when the patience is not felt in your appearance,
But you still remain as the figure pushing men to behave with certainty and casualty.
Posting those stuffs in their sights when they meant not to play their sentiments within publicity.
Maybe whoever the world want us to be is coming from nowhere.
And the pictures posted on those walls are already fading.
Maybe recognition is playing no tapes for our dead dreams to the world,
But some little birds still sing our prayers to get our attention back to the place we going to.
So the aim is selecting from the best alternatives,
Looking at the brighter side where darkness sets no confrontations.
The world keeps changing when day break,
And keeps introducing we all to new families.
But the journey goes through the wilderness where we find no answers for our individual bordering questions.
I will be glad when we both come through alive and strong,
That's when I would congratulate you with the Kiss of LOVE,
Causing you to feel proud.
They are too foggy,
Dreams, visions, etc.;
I don’t know, I don’t remember,
but o’ wait!
Yes, a distinct memory.
I started remembering words
hoarse, dry words mixed
with the lemonade air.
a conversation?
The smell of heated leather
chains me to the patio
where the goddess sits.
I have lost faith in her,
no longer a goddess
but my birthmother.
The second person in this conversation.
'Bitter sweet or sweetly bitter',
asking the nicotine-filled air.
A head emerges through the smoke,
mingling with the lesser being.
She exhales pure ash
and stares, ocean to mildew eyes.
‘Bitter sweet.’
Why, I ached to ask her
but it refused to come out,
my lips a graveyard.
Fruit trees,
beautiful ones.
Aristaeus but never Eileithyia,
my mother.
Leaves and Vines blend with the
anger that my mother had,
not anymore
malt as its replacement.
I wanted to try her cigarette,
the one kissed tenderly by her two lips now.
My fingers turn
black.
Black as black can be,
emission at the seams of my nails
up to the pretty blonde strands of my mother’s hair.
I wonder, lips formed
to ask, maybe.
‘Mascara,’ she answers,
knowing the question
before it escaped my tongue
and ventured into her ears.
Because we are entwined, now,
black and volcanic
two minds, one body
no
two bodies, one mind.
I wince,
the band-aids refuse to help;
including the Arnold ones
I used to put on myself.
Bittersweet.
My cuts grow bigger
until it resembled the cracks of the earth;
and ate my blue bike
and the ghost house I used to live in,
her being the one to haunt them.
‘You blame,’
who says.
‘You lie,’
says the other.
Not a conversation anymore,
but furious eruptions,
ruinous pertinence.
It was calamitous and vulgar,
glorious culmination,
as it destroyed everything;
leaving nothing but cinder,
carried by the wind
up into the lemonade sky.
The Tree of Trust
Trust is like a valiant fruit tree
That is not grown just with words,
Nor does it mature carefree;
Its seed sown with love in the backyard
Needs to be watered with due care
And attended with a fitting flair.
Its roots are damped with honesty
While its trunk breathes out confidence,
Its stems smell of sincerity,
Its branches exhale the pertinence
Of promises kept and sustained
And its leaves unfold truth maintained.
Its fruits roll out joy and pleasure
While its seeds procure new life
And its shade provides some shelter,
Whether from life`s occasional strife,
The ardent rays of the midday sun
Or the transient rain at dawn.
Yet the valiant tree of trust
Can dry up with the venom of lust,
With the pure poison of mistrust
Or with the noxious bane of hate
That can drive it to a sad fate
And turn it to sorrowful dust.
It truly behoves one and all
Not to let the sacred tree of trust
To reach a desolate downfall,
Nor allow it to turn to dust
But to hold it high as a must,
As a companion of the soul.
By Krishnanand Guptar
21 January 2023