Best Weigh On Poems
Are we worth saving? Yes.
Is love worth chasing? Yes.
Do I think that life is depressing?
My answer is No.
Do I believe that standards are overbearing?
My answer is No.
Are we overprotective of our little ones?
The answer is Yes.
Does our thoughts weigh on us like a thousand tons?
The answer is Yes.
Do I believe in Politics over freedom of expression?
My answer is No.
Do I think that Love needs detection?
My answer is No.
Can we come close to the face of death?
The answer is Yes.
Is values better than weath?
The answer is Yes.
I've asked all these questions,
And given My answers.
These are things I think of quite often....
Go ask a hard heart these things and I assure you it will soften
The whole of my life is rather mundane, endured only until those few minutes gained; Yes, granted reprieve from this daily drudge, and allowed for the nonce, even if begrudged, to hold a feather,very sharp, to write with the tip. Slow and steady like a man taking sips…from the water of life after a long weary trip.
When all the gears are lubricated, operating efficiently, and the needs of the world weigh on someone else, the mechanism of creativity connects with the crenelated cog of self.
Dominoesk works cause my hand to haltingly write. Heart to mind, mind to body, body to hand, hand to quill…okay, so it's a keyboard, alright.
Emotion, like sand after a beach trip, pours forth from places usually dark, not seen, unlit.
Using that water of life and the sands of emotion, I build my castle with words and notions.
Intricate battlements, portcullis, bailey , and arrow loops. Protection from arrows of interruption, darts of responsibility, and soldiers of the Soup.
Until, Inevitably the drawbridge is breached, the end of my time finally reached.
Slowly I surrender my feather sword, in this messy, mixed metaphorical world.
The oven timer beeps and the phone rings, bringing me back to my life of mundane things.
Poetic breadcrumbs
Tossed into the air
Blown about by errant winds
Pecked at by bloated pigeons
Debated by chattering squirrels
And yet I sit with crumpled bag
Knowing I will return again
Replenishing the hope
That what little I offer
Is a gift for us all
The words are arguing
A mock debate
No rebuttal
A juxtapositional comparison
Of mirrored images
Seeking definition
The days weigh on me
An aged rudder struggles
To maintain a fading course
Yellowed sails doubting the breeze
Tremble as the shallows near
The landmarks seem more distant
The destination less definite
Joy remains
Yawning in the shadows
Sighing as it listens
To the chatter of life
Dancing in its memories
it's not over until it's over until God has His say
and it's not what it looks like until God has His way
when you look at a Pastor of anyone who's in service to the Lord God
you have no idea what they've gone through nor the things that weigh on their hearts
for it's not easy to be a true disciple and teacher of the Holy Word
it's not a walk in the park no matter what you have heard
King David was a true disciple, an anointed gift from God
he was a special type of man who possessed a contrite heart
he was given the huge responsibility of leadership over a nation
the people demanded much from him and had high expectations
a catastrophe occurred one day when all the women and children were taken
David's men were so grievously upset that they were physically shaken
they then became angry and bitter over what had gone down
they held David responsible and wanted to stone him into the ground
yet David himself lost two wives and he was also dismayed and discouraged
but as a true disciple of Christ he knew in God to be encouraged
David had a true calling, he was aware of his divine mission
he was appointed by the Lord God to take on the Great Commission
for whenever God has called on you
there's not much that you can do
for you can't run and you can't hide from what of you God desires
and He'll equip you for the task by giving you all you'll need and require
and be you a Pastor, a disciple or a deacon and you feel you're at the end of your rope
encourage yourself in the promises of God and hold on to its hope
life may sometimes beat you up and knock you all about
but it's not over until it's over until God calls the final out
encourage yourself in the Lord and embrace His authority
you might be down to your last strike and He'll give you the victory
and even if the final bell has rung
it ain't over until God says its done
and even when you're down to your last shot
it ain't over until God says it's not
and even if it's fourth and long yet you can see the goal
trust in God to make the completion for He's in total control
it's not over until it's over not even when the fat lady starts to sing
as the Lord Our God has the last word when it comes to everything
the buzzer might have sounded, the clock has run out and you're down to the final play
but it's not over until it's over as long as God has something to say
Walk the wooden deck
of the boat I was tied and shackled to.
Feel the sun as it reaches down to
the cotton fields I have picked, burns the ground and singes
the skin dark as the night that
calls for us all to find our freedom.
Hold the chains that weigh on my soul
and bind me to the man we are forced to call master.
Trace the scars on my back that tell
the story of how my will was broken,
stepped on and left to die in a place
only my ancestors can call their home, which I
can only describe as a long story
forgotten, and the tellers too far
gone for their words to be heard.
Look through my tired weary eyes that have
seen too many scenes of red tears, last breaths
and grave diggers to last one too many generations.
Come sit, turn on the oil lamp who is
too weak to even give off the illusion of something bright
squint your eyes and sound out the letters
connect each word, form each sentence
that read out the directions to finding our freedom.
I fear, I will not be enough for that world outside,
I will not measure up to that who they expect me to be, want me to be.
I fear the one I breathe… the one I see, will only see another.
I fear for these faults I have, these weaknesses… those flaws.
Who will cherish, who will want… those flaws I have?
I fear, for my weigh on a machine...
It says repellent, it says obese
I fear, for my length on scale…
It says unattractive, it says midget
I fear the night, how I prefer the light instead, the bright instead
Those owls and rats and bats; those foul creatures of the night.
I fear the world, will misunderstand these thoughts I have
Misinterpret these ideas I have.
I fear the world will not appreciate;
Those hours on the mirror, those rivers I sweat.
I fear I shall not attain those goals I have, those dreams I dream
My enemies will prosper, while misery and despair are paired with me
I fear they will change my parts… make me into a thing with no heart
A thing with no face… and look down on my race!
I fear the questions I have, the doubts I have
But more than ore, I fear I shall die before I live,
I fear I shall not live till I die!
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 58
No way must such protective force serve politics
Nor ally dictator army criminal police
None might weigh on Nature to impose its ethics
No exceptions tolerate no geopolitics
No super power excuse to fiddle with peace
No way must such protective force serve politics
No edifice stands aloft loose in building bricks
No Zapata fights for latifundio prize fees
None might weigh on Nature to impose its ethics
Dare not wanton call Nature’s course fiddlesticks
Even if life you lay down for cause in sacrifice
No way must such protective force serve politics
Can one forfeit life placate people’s economics
Mahatma Gandhi saw life’s work torn piece by piece
None might weigh on Nature to impose its ethics
Only the chieftain who bears with peoples’ conflicts
Can lead them along the road to Nature’s hospice
No way must such protective force serve politics
None might weigh on Nature to impose its ethics
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Our secrets have life
Enormous flagellation
Waiting to be told
"What is it?", I ask
What is this dark atmosphere?"
"You are so quiet."
He will not tell me
Do I really want to know?
It may make things worse
Risk is always there
The friendship is suffering
The still, cold, silence
We dance around it
He goes back to his crossword
Productivity
Do we need secrets?
Preventing insanity
Keeping ourselves whole
Marriage is a gift
Yet, its burdens weigh on us
Too many questions
I will stay quiet
Until I find an answer
He does not know it
TRIBUTE TO
DESPOLITE.
My eyes are blinded
with tears, yet my
heart see's the
despairing cry of
despo student.
The scent of agony
and fragrance of pain
weigh on my mind.
Legs were broken,
blows were taken,
gases were breathed
in,siblings once
nutured by sweet
mothers were packed
like sack of rice in the
van of peace trops ,
all in your single order.
All mighty clara we
salute thee.
We are not the
richest, we know we
owe, we agreed to
pay, why now are you
in haste?
You build your
estate,we paid and
became your
tennants, you flourish
with our parents
wealth yet they crave
and starve,they didn't
complain.
You are a woman too,
what happened to the
agitated feeling of
motherhood?have you
sold it out to the
god's of wealth?
Stretch out your
palms please, are your
fingers equal? Life is
full of inequality in
socal status.
We owe yes we
know, we agree to
pay.please do have a
heart DR CLARA.S.
O lord, deep sorrows weigh on my heart,
You created me,
Where shall I go?
Without you, To whom would I share my sorrows,
I am a white flower in the garden of Autumn: scentless, colorless, and etiolated.
I too wish to bloom in the garden of verdure.
O lord; embrace and bear hug me,
I am broken, a wanderer, and aimless.
My life is abandoned, everyone. Everyone came.
They bruised, battered, and blighted me, went and left me solo in the garden of Autumn.
My sepals and blanched petals whimper there,
O lord; If you won't rescue me,
I think the white flower may die in the garden in Autumn.
I know I am a colossal sinner and sins have dimmed away my beauty and charm,
I don't want to die being a sinner.
If I died, I would die like a waste then,
If so, how can I stand in front of you? I can't endure it and would feel ashamed.
O lord; look at my garden of Autumn and transform it into the garden of spring.
Let me perform the elegant deeds,
and then I wished to die
I’m burning with anger I don’t understand
I’m drowning in sorrow I can’t command
I’m losing my mind, crying and shattering
I attack you over and over
I don’t understand this…why it happens over and over
I’m terrible…horrible
I do not deserve to live
You always just give and give
And I take and burn and hurt
I am nothing without you
Yet I do not show it…instead I just hurt you
I don’t know what to do
I can only apologize so much before it means nothing to you
I don’t want that to happen…I don’t want to lose you
I really don’t but I continuously damage you
You wonder why, what you have done
But I can’t say…I don’t know…and I just weigh on you like a ton
This cannot go on
Cannot go on
I’m sorry
You should keep yourself away from me
Set yourself free
So you can finally be happy
Nothing but happy
Nothing but happy
She still pulls enough strength to keep going
Despite the tedious roles that weigh on her shoulders
She does not complain about her troubles
Neither does she brag about her blessings
She is a true emblem of bravery
She would dare a tigress
To just have her child breathe one more time
She love surpasses the usual
For she is a true angel
She braves the early morning cold
And the evening storm
For her devotion to her family
God bless our mothers
Agony is nigh ever-present in humanity.
It is the nefarious antagonist that unabashedly lurks in the shadows;
And With detestable malice, it strikes with a hellish wrath.
This abhorrent lash is the unintentional crafter of heroism.
It inadvertently forges a shield that encompasses willpower;
And from it, absolute fortitude inhabits its beholder.
To wield this hallowed bulwark, an adamantine resolve is vital.
For the wielder is bequeathed with the insignia of gallantry;
And with this newly reaped brand, one must also retain humility.
Inevitably, the herculean task of attaining leadership takes its toll.
It Will, unfortunately, weigh on the heart of its heritor incessantly;
Despite this, its proprietor must remain vigilant and compassionate.
Chaos and Evil go hand in hand,
Sometimes it becomes too much to stand.
The pains that weigh on every soul,
Weight on me most of all.
The desperation that comes with being alone,
Makes me want to run home.
But that home is where the chaos resides,
The people I love reaprocate.
The hatred I sense from entering the doors,
It hits me fast and permeates my pores.
I never know where the chaos is created,
And chaos and I will forever be fated.
The battle I fight stretches wide and far,
That’s why people can’t see my battle scars.
The hate is great, but the chaos is greater,
A life full of chaos isn’t fair.
Sometimes they merge,
For this reason I grow discouraged.
The rage that comes with this chaos is large,
It comes in strong like a barge.
I can’t continue holding back the pain and tears,
Like I have done for so many years.
When the wall falls and I lose all,
My true, close friends are the ones I call.
Friends come to my aide when I need them most,
And my friends are the best, don’t mean to boast.
They understand my problems as I do theirs,
We help each other fight our fears,
So when the chaos comes with its partner hate,
I run to those who can best relate.
The struggle will end and the chaos will die,
They tell me I don’t need to cry.
My friends are the family I really need,
So when I am down because of havoc or mayhem,
I can simply go and say to them,
“You will never have to grieve of my loss,
For I know this is only Chaos.”
Out at sea on the flimsy raft
My Zorro mask and Tarzan pants can't help
Used only to wipe my brow under the punishing sun
I lost them too after a while by a crashing wave
What could be worse than losing your clothes
Monstrous charcoal clouds mount heavier than Basalt
Weigh on me like planet Mercury
Storms on the ocean can be mean and fierce
Hunger is my next best friend
It clings to me like a lover
Memory escaped as well without permission
I must have lost it somewhere else through negligence
But those are long term problems
Surviving immediately arises here and now
Seas come up and churn on mountainous waves
Thirty feet high and rising, agitated against me
If a cruise ship should happen by right now
I wish they would avert their eyes away
Being lost at sea is one awful matter
I don't want them to see me naked
And I would feel shame if they ask my name
The one thing I can't remember