Best Unstopped Poems

Silence, darkness.
Not a light in the furthest
Reaches that my eyes can test,
And yet,
There’s a shimmer, a glimmer,
A hint, a rumour,
Of hope yet to come.
A tremble...

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Slash the stars hot
Strive to shift all
The blood in "oh no"
Cold rows at most slopes
Us splash a lot
Blood on our shirts
Why tear the skirts 
Of...

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AS I LOOK BACK,INTO THE  MANY YEARS OF MY LIFE I REALIZE I WAS SUFFOCATED
I NOW UNDERSTAND WHY IT FELL APART,THERE WAS NO ROOM...

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No youngster himself, Fred often repeats what his father used to say: 

"There are always preludes to hell." 

For Fred one of those preludes is...

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WHEN I BIT MY TONGUE

There was once a day,
While I was walking,
When I bit my tongue’s tip,
Accidentally perhaps or,
Did someone think of me?

But the matter...

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Ruins are abounding in that mind of yours;
Walls that have crumbled are causing pause for step.
Treading lightly in intention;
 don’t want to break the only...

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these radiating, seemingly 
endless rows of dust-choked porticoes
in the bustling Roman forum.

Receding to the vanishing point:

sun-drenched streets,
Ways to, hours for due mythology;

busy temples; gleaming marble...

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Lonely roads,
He walked unstopped.  
By his side were a 
Pony and a pillow

The pillow was faceless.
The pony did not talk.  
Yet his friends...

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A blessed evening by sin unspoiled,
Cleansed by blood not by sin tarnished
Upon the accursed tree of Calvary,
Shed by one by his own people banished.

I'm grateful...

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Snared

We have all become entangled
Little snares, have never strangled
A shoelace tight that won’t untie
A hole we dig with cloudy skies

The rain that falls can feed...

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A blessed evening by sin unspoiled,
Cleansed by blood not by sin tarnished
Upon the accursed tree of Calvary,
Shed by one by his own people banished.

I'm grateful...

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Not again shall I fall a victim of folly,

Or again allow my heart be melancholy.

I shall let loose my fancy roam unroped,

And my dreams wander...

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The dead can still be warmly applauded
Who on us in some field had lorded
And his overripe honours remembered
Which he himself must’ve numbered.

A piece of provocation
When...

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The truth is elusive,
while you’re still alive

The sentence unstopped,
much harder to jibe

Luck be a mistress,
come fortune or fright

May truth be a lady
—tonight

(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)...

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Those dozing particles
of thisies and thats
that nomad
within that pierce
unstopped sun
but for the blinds line...

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