Best Pris Poems
The stranger is strange, pariah, leper sounds offbeat,
Neither truculent, nor relevant, all destined to encounter the doomed relic;
The bizarre outlander, alien to stimulate the instant pulse-beats!
The uninvited hobnobber, one despises to welcome in routine frolic.
The stranger is unsolicited, the object of latent fear,
As strange may be the ways of the unbidden ones' intentional cares!
The stranger is unfaithful: weird to tranquility, comfort and cheer,
For the sceptical one, we become anxious by a mere fateful encounter!
The stanger lies in our conscience; in a distant land in paradoxical disguise.
Masquerade, the image generates an uncanny fear to sigh!
Sounds delinquent to subjugate the wires of prudent conscience!
Nonetheless, cogitates as usurper of peace; an ineffable parti pris.
Self-centred, they are loquacious, spell bound like con stars;
Babbles from the masks, camouflages as the epitomes of pretenders.
Unknown, unfamiliar, stirs alarms not to mingle, to be away, to be cautious.
In disguise, comes the alleged stanger to ruin ones' peace to shudder and shatter.
But the most alarming of all preconceived archetypes, are the strangers:
Who lingers on, as routine friends and well wishers,
On whom we doted on, are the real dear strangers,
Who by feigning friends, acted quisling, an obvious stranger!
'Hold!' sometimes left us dumbfounded with their insensible fickle deeds;
Even when the unknown stanger might spare and stand by us in awful needs!
When our intimate ones deny to wink at the distress;
While busy in spilling the beans, our woes go unnoticed by the feigned well-wishers.
Indeed! They are the untagged apparent strangers, fugitives in our trials.
Beware of those strangers, whom we adore as near and dear ones, 'bosom friends,'
the agnates and cognates, to entitle the crown, “an actual stranger" who elopes in tmes of miseries!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
Unquotable quotes - I
A friend in need is the goon who stokes your greed.
A journey of a thousand miles ends with the last broken step.
Don’t kill the brother-in-law until the sister is dead.
Butter your toast on either side to lick hands.
Hang not the hangman with noose: you’ll lose booze.
Half a loaf is better than no love.
Even a blind cat can smell a rat that bells the cat.
Take care of the pounds and the wife will pound you.
Take the load off your own fat.
Shoot to kill only if you can’t stand still.
Slow and steady are two legs in a sack race.
A marksman is the marked man’s also-ran.
A blacklisted writer is on every publisher’s reading list.
A dime a dozen is no denizen.
He who cries thief knows no mischief.
Turn coat and capsize boat.
A snake in the grass may miss Mass but is full of grace.
Early to bed catches the worm.
All that glitters cannot be sold.
Immolate yourself to moult your soul.
Even if you’re forced to burn your boats, fly by air.
Where there’s a will, there’s no giving way.
Run also with the hares and the hounds will eat you.
A little knowledge makes the master grin.
Birds of a feather share the same tailor.
Don’t judge a woman with a book by its covers.
If you kick a can down the street, empty it first.
What burns up and out is the gas in the gut.
A stitch in time saves kith but not kin.
Forewarned is foredamned.
Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, just lay them.
If the hens begin to crow, the cocks will lie low.
If you pour oil on troubled waters, Mid-East will dry up.
Still waters run in sleep.
Parallel lives never meet or greet.
© T. Wignesan - Pris, 2016
A Poodle and Apple Strudel
To popular belief, it all had been according
And wondered if we really could be affording
To buy what some called the John B. Sloop
Bottom of sails looked like a hula hoop
While walking around we also just found
That when being on John B. you are bound
To become stuck up and also possibly a pris
While you gaze at wild water and reminisce.
Liking to laugh a new habit now has become
And best part of pudding is a pleasant plum
Then through life as things all get tougher
From an illness, you will soon start to suffer
Cathy many have said is short for cathedral
And according to problems that are procedural
Process was becoming kind of quite inviting
I discovered best thing to do is be delighting
So finally forget all I said without fail
Go out on John B and around should sail
Be sure that you bring your pretty poodle
Who always enjoys eating some apple strudel.
If we are a breed of beings,
Species of like doings-
In the Milky Way
Why not be that today?
Have I turn a bat
Lost my light of the frat
Or a Braconid
To my kind?
Why the abrupt repellency
To the unfolding literacy
How will I feed my stance
Upon the extinct of other hands?
Why the weighed loathsome
The infinite gruesome
Of my phylum-
Within my kingdom?
What's with the conscription,
The circumscprition-
Of liberty
Stamping it in entirety?
What's with the thirst of a fuehrer,
The ***** conceit of the other-
To weightily parti pris
And indulge in an hostility spree?
Can I not be mindful of the Scythrops,
Make of their trait crops,
That will acculturate
Rather than berate?
Can I not be for the domain,
My essence extended to the terrain,
Express compassion without pain
And adore for no gain?
Instead, I lushed
To hike mass agitative state,
That deludes the mind
Of my kind-
To prey on their own.
Each time you call my name I seek
the feeling of your gentle kiss,
I hear your voice, it makes me weak.
In love's embrace yet still I miss
the caress from an angel's lips,
my mind needs more than parti pris
to lose my heart to love's eclipse.
You touch my heart beneath moon gleams,
to woo my mind and win my soul
with whispered thoughts, you feed my dreams.
Sweet-talk my heart, with words cajole
my feelings, with a push and shove
you show me how in you I'm whole
and dance me to the world of love.
For those tortured souls who have inadvertently become an embodiment of life's most derisive and diminutive emotional degradation...
Look no further!
In teaching those
whom you love above all, in this great life of ours...
to speak out of the heart
These words we learn,
Do not bind us against, but rather incline us in:
Seizing the day,
Therefore,
Finding a way - or - making one!
From nothing!
Therefore to dare create, something,
From nothing...
Is to remember to live...
In the absence of,
Having been caught!
In the act of one's:
Greatest work!
That.
Which is...
Most important!
To one's...
Future happiness!
Et cruciatus eorum, qui in errore facti esse formam animae, et diminutive irridebant vitam scriptor permotionem turpis respice non ultra!
Docet!
Quos praecipue in hac vita nostra,
De corde verba loqui discimus.
Non curabit nos potius viam inveniam aut faciam...
Hodie capere ex nihilo?
Ergo,
Audeat facere...
Aliquid ex nihilo est meminisse,
Vivere sine detentus in actu:
Unum maximum opus est maxime!
Pour ces âmes torturées qui ont par inadvertance devenir...
Un mode de réalisation:
De la dégradation émotionnelle la plus moqueuse et diminutif de la vie...
Ne cherchez pas plus loin!
Dans l'enseignement des hommes.
Que vous aimez...
Avant tout dans cette grande vie de la nôtre!
De parler du cœur ces mots,
Nous apprenons...
Ne pas nous lier contre,
Mais plutôt...
De nous incliner saisir le jour,
par conséquent!
De trouver...
Un moyen ou faire,
Un à partir de rien!
Par conséquent,
pour oser créer quelque chose,
à partir de rien,
est de se rappeler de vivre,
En l'absence,
De, après avoir
été pris en flagrant délit...
De, son plus
Grand travail!
Ce qui est le plus important...
Pour son bonheur futur!
Barely six and the bustle winds
through depths of lost descent
where reality hunts the night
dreaming of incoherent content
here dusk drifts off ever deep
butterfly float on off to sleep
in wings of the dormant pine
almost silently still, she weeps
but all I hear are angelic voices
begging on moonbeams to fly
breathless meaningful moments
singing in every teardrop cried
vous avez pris mon souffle
as I placed my hands upon her heart
a path opened to intimate ardor
and a pleasingly inauspicious start
Mon amour – Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s « My Love » by T. Wignesan
Me posséder ? Non, je ne me permets pas
L’amour que les autres connaissent,
Car j’ai épousé une cause:
Je me prive de tous loisirs de finesse.
Vous voulez me posséder toute entière:
Mon corps, mon âme et mon esprit;
Mon amour est réservé à mon peuple
En premier lieu, et puis l’humanité m’a pris.
L’entité sociale, celle qui désigne mon Moi
J'y ai renoncé depuis des lustres;
Ma vie est vouée au service des autres,
Aucun homme ne peut la ravir en maître.
L’intolérance des blancs m’emprisonne,
Des insultes et le mépris à me contraindre,
Je me dois d’être libre, je me dois d’être forte
Pour pouvoir lutter et les vaincre.
Car il y a des injustices à rectifier,
La malveillance des hommes à supporter,
C’est un long chemin, un parcours de solitaire,
Mais, Oui, le but est sûr et salutaire.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
As far as I can remember,
They were souls connected with mine.
But all the bridges of our friendships
Have moved away:
The boats have broken off their moorings,
And I do not know whether I am going astray,
But each on the station's platform,
Took they own roads of chance.
Souls may have crumbled,
By following their destiny.
These are missing faded away in the adventure,
Having lost their true nature,
By plunging towards infinity,
They were lost in oblivion .
-
And in the original conception ( in french )
-
Autant que je me souvienne,
c'étaient des âmes liées à la mienne.
Mais tous les ponts de nos amitiés
se sont éloignés :
les barques ont rompu leurs amarres,
et, je ne sais si je m'égare ,
mais chacun sur le quai de la gare,
a pris les routes de hasard .
Les âmes se sont peut-être abîmées,
en suivant leur destinée.
Ce sont des points disparus dans l'aventure,
ayant perdu leur vraie nature,
En plongeant vers l'infini ,
ils se sont perdus dans l'oubli.
-
RC - nov 2016
La guerre folingue a largué des bombes sur un cimetière
Les morts,trop absorbés à savonner leurs péchés d'hier,
Ont d'abord pris le bruit pour un tonitruant tonnerre
Nonchalants,ils ont campé dans leurs tanières
Ont eu une pensée pour ceux la haut sur terre
Qui jouillissant de tous arrivent à se taire
Ankylosés devant la machine meurtrière
Désorientés,fourbus et optimistes naguère
Ignares de pioncer que sous somnifère
Une torpeur dècousue aux episodes amères
Humant la phobie,l'aria et la galère
Jalousant les morts,réprouvant leurs misères
Abdelwaheb Dhaou.
"Rapture"
I want you to capture... me
Caught in your Rapture... see
Upon this eternal bliss
Recieve my one true love"s kiss
Unleash my aperture...key
Never turn the light out...see
Do you know it's just you and me
Ever gonna let it be
Recieve my love honestly
Caring for you little miss
Get over your parti pris
Venture in with me
Infinitely
Rapture of you and me
Eternally
MamaD
Blink
When you blink,
do you think,
that you might be,
altering the very face of your mind?
Look at this,
Parti pris;
the world has gone and
tipped the scale on bliss and misaligned.
Hear me stutter,
the answers to these questions lie within;
feel me utter,
the key into your heart is cast from chagrin.
Look inside,
you will find,
that your beginnings
hold great significance to all that is.
Be naive,
misconceive,
because you see,
the only light you need shines far amiss.
Hear me stutter,
the answer to all questions lie within;
feel me utter,
the key unto your heart is cast from chagrin.
Le soleil a perdu sa lumière en plusieurs années
Dans l'autre face de la grande Meditteranee;
Et, avant que je retrouve cette sliver,
Qui ma aidé a rentré au quai des Milliardaires;
Vous aviez déjà établie une place dans son monde,
Par les grincements des petites roues rondes;
Quand vous avez montré une flip-flop dans l'air ;
Etant bien apprécier ainsi que…des twitchers,
Qui aiment la sérénité et la beauté d'Antibes;
La veille ville, où mon esprit reste à vivre;
Mon coeur ne s'arrête pas à rechercher son amour,
Malgré, qu’il ait pris mon retour
Comme juste...une petite nouvelle;
Mais, pourquoi suis-je triste ? Si, lui est dans les cieux !
Savez-vous ? Que les temps partagés…
Ont donnés une histoire de fraternité qui restera gravé,
Sans être de même sang et de même chair,
Mais, par l'amitié, qu'existera jusqu’à la fin de la Terre.
Jusqu’au jour, qu'on ne se retrouve plus à respirer;
Ah voila, le panda à coté ! Qui vous considère comme son aîné ;
Comme un frère qui se tiendra toujours là près de toi,
Et, qu’il donnera n'importe quoi...
Sa caresse et ses larmes pour les bénéficies des autres;
Lui, un vrai trésor sans prix pour une certaine vie…la Notre !
So recently I heard that the present is past
And the future is now, a nudge to peruse fast
Maybe I should have been let into this data sooner
Maybe if I had subscribed earlier
But instead hobbling because of a mislocation of application
On my dislocation of information caused by a lagging foundation
Oh! As I see that tiny smiling crease, that silhouette through these solitary bars
My sight is magnified to the panacea
Simply mind formation
Simply learning to apprise your partis pris towards a defined location
An intense intention towards actualization
And it's effect, a genuflection of the spiritual
The problem is, Priscilla grew up
in a penthouse having parties while
Biff came of age under a bridge
fighting other trolls, he remembers.
When Pris calls his office and says
we're having guests tonight
the chasm in their marriage grows.
The guests go home sauced and smiling
but the chasm stays behind, snarling.
Biff can't make the leap to kiss Pris
and some day have 10 kids.
The next time she invites guests
he wants to be told at dawn.
Biff plans to skip feeding the pit bulls
and introduce them to her guests.
Donal Mahoney