Best Wherewithal Poems
I eat upon a creaky table
and think in quiet realms,
sleep I will on some luminous cloud,
wonder where the seam of my labors
stitched what I have found;
I oft muse aloud the folly of the world,
yet dismiss the blemish of my brow,
the sin remains.....
The drear of the mystery is an old enemy
when death comes round;
I will try to smile then,
when he knocks with thunderclap,
make not fortitude a stranger,
perch life on its ruby throne;
As compared to my Creator ----
I am but a wee thing,
a wisp of smoke.....
a wave at its end come tide,
an echo in the breach of time;
The little rain-drops my eye does weep,
and sleep in moody seas,
I bleed a greater good,
if justice should have me;
to live a little longer.....
with wherewithal and ponder,
Drink thy Immortal Elixir ----
to feel love's strong arms
and bathe in its allure;
Not ails and old age ----
where strength of youth does fade,
but the sweet of aged wines ----
some wise child wild with first rays of life,
Yet, alas ----
will I try?
The Burning
It was seven days and seven nights
Or there abouts, I was not so sure
Life was shrouded in the darkness not at all pure
I lost track of dawn, of dusk, of realities fight
To keep me conscious
To keep me right
Comatose, delirious, unmoving slumber
In this dream like state
My desires still existed
Thirsts to be quenched
Passions flared
She was seductively dressed
I, with the eye of a tiger
Wishing to devour her being
To be with her, in her, be her
To taste her very soul
I smelled her nectars inviting scent
The bed sheets become drenched in sweat
The heat of the night ensconced me
A thousand candles and yet one more burned
The heat of passion mixed with the heat of the night
Flames rose from the desires within and without
My subconscious has played evil tricks and fooled me again
Lighting the candles that shall bring me to the beyond
The sheets became brimstone, the fire engulfed me
My mind in hazy confusion smelled roast flock of some sort
A meal after the passions was a succulent dessert
I became dizzy with the lust and the love intermixed
Somehow I am sleepy, dreamy, so very tired
The heat blankets me and I feel a strange foreboding
The reaper is grinning, staring down on my face
I try to wake, but I haven’t the wherewithal
I feel the burning
Painful for but a moment as the smokey flames take me
For one last dance
Burning, burning, searing heat
Blackened and burnt
Dreams
No more
Sunday, at 24 minutes past midnight, firetrucks arrived at an apartment in Dublin, Ireland 24 O’Connell street, and above Murrays pub, a lone tenant was found burnt to a crisp, apparently by a fire cause by candles, the remains have not been identified, and the building is a total loss.
Arthur’s Day in Dublin
Posted on September 24, 2009
To celebrate Arthur’s Day, From 17:59 to 22:00 All Pints of draft beers were €2.50
For Jared Pickett's Trois Par Huit.....Tanka.....Rondel Contest:
It is fall
and now I’ve tasted gall -
prefaced by a final kiss from you.
The moon, huge ball above that shines a golden hue,
seems a sign auspicious - but oh, that is not true!
Trenchant words you spilled; my heart is cleft.
I’ve wept (beyond bereft)
now you’ve left.
Dear, can’t you recall
how we’d thought our love would grow?
Your touch would enthrall
me through long days; moon’s warm glow -
Where did summer’s solstice go?
How will I ever find the wherewithal
to hold on through each coming lonely night?
My heart is hollow now, but holds no light,
and autumn’s sky too soon will cast its pall.
Abounding love and sun are gone. How small
will be the days to come. How much less bright!
How will I ever find the wherewithal
to hold on through each coming lonely night?
In fragrant blush of June, to garden wall
I’d run, your sunflower smile in my sight.
How can I stop my mind from taking flight -
so lost in thought of when we had it all;
how will I ever find the wherewithal?
Tommy’s battle is in the bulge.
So much marmite in his pantry.
Celebrating, he does indulge.
Souper Choir laments in chantry.
What is this edible cement?
I’ve not the wherewithal to find.
Is it a sin not to try? Hell-bent?
To Tommy, I better be kind.
I opened the black jar with the
bright yellow lid for marmite cause
and Tommy all I saw was thee
reflected in the jar - your jaws.
I think I’ll skip the marmite here.
I need to chew on edibles
of real nutrition without fear.
Cost of marmite’s incredible.
1/7/2022
There is the wondrous nature of it all
Spring flowers, summer rain, winter snowfall
Ants and bees and anything seeming small
Or sunrises... across the world enthrall
Inate talent and intellect wherewithal
Guide the release of emotional thrall
Boundless curiosity overall
Could be natural as a waterfall
A good-natured person is one we call
A blessing which on us did befall
There is the wondrous nature of it all
May 25, 2018
Monorhyme Contest by Shadow Hamilton
N/A
Your best investment lies in God’s hands
Which guarantee life, love and boundless care
Regardless of kinds and types of lands
Which your feet dare to walk without forking out any fare
In kind or slush cash
Men and women whose whims
Reduced at death to mere ash
In their temperamental and sentimental teams
Depending on their tricks or moods
Choose to dole out
In their woods
Filled with mood swing and doubt
Until to the core of your mind
Comes the realization
That in men and women
Lies neither your salvation mission nor determination
To bring to fruition the destiny
God in his purpose
Chose not in your mutiny or calumny
But from his original source
Because in the end only God has the wherewithal
To anticipate, explicate, facilitate, replicate success in your every need
Without under fire a retreat tactical or strategic withdrawal
To ensure that your dreams, missions, portions and options succeed
In addition, God loves you too much
To let you continue to fail
Within every critical touch or dream bunch
In your heart, your home or in your self-inflicted jail.
Written: November 09, 2023
________________________________________
An allegedly assured affix
distracted by wistfulness
to assess arousal of anguish,
wherewithal shadows tackle by day
amidst thick mist, in propinquity dry wells.
carrying a titian heartbreak on my shoulder.
a gentle regret that is not a zenith dread;
brocade as taffeta, a bluesy lullaby.
spun from gentle yarns; weaved.
Striving to scale a sibilant soil surface
toward porous roots of sequoia
trapped by the force of gravity.
allow only tangerine tears to flow
from my sorrow.
Getting into the quagmire.
in quest of one's fortitude.
whilst waiting for syzygy perigee,
to occur on perihelion.
I rage, my need for you bleeding helpless
tied, bound by these silken ropes of love
my cries will never reach your side, my life
over the music that deafens my heartbeats
I stand mute and solo without you
till we belong to each other
even if that destroys who you are
you will only belong to our love
even if that kills us...
There is a riot in my heart exploding me apart
the burning blood of your beauty razing reason's rampart,
defenses devised by decades of destructive love
surround my soul with swords sharpened on evil known of,
I need you to breech the war barrior, to rescue my red potential
break the black bricks of the sorrow wall with a woman's wherewithal,
we will pay Fate's ransom for union legend
with unbroken breaths of lovers impassioned -
A Collaboration From The Quills Of Bindu & Justin
There is a potential so pure in your nature
that it be nexus between diviner and rapture
where freedom finds the fire of Prime Creator
deep in the brain's interior, a glandular mind expander
crossfertilizer of electrochemical ego and soul sorcerer,
the pineal pinnacle, receptor of solar miracle, regulator of the nocturnal wanderer
it is the tip of your spinal staff, the lituus which levies the chakra current into hypermatter,
33 skeletal sigils bridge the neural signals from root to bloom in the theta theater
as an inner vision of ajna becomes an outter creation of prajna in an unfailing future
with liberty being the law of wherewithal in a world wanting war with the philosopher,
passion becomes the parchment that your rights are riddled upon in cosmic character
unalienable imagination, undeniable in purification of reason unleashing the lotus tiger
into landscapes of raw physics where starry scriptures are alive in the instincts of an originator -
J.A.B.
Darkness
In a quiet room the darkness encircles all
The slightest of shadows seemly abounds
Your eyes grappling to focus wherewithal
You become attuned to all the subtle sounds
Within the shadows lurk your deepest fears
In childhood memories of forgotten tales
Once again fearsome efficiencies appears
In your imagination, within all gruesome details
Deep within the psyche of the blackest hearts
There is this darkness where hate controls
Somehow hurt turning into anger imparts
Buried deep within their tortured souls
Perhaps that they not know the harm that they do
When consumed by only hate in their tortured souls
Controlled by past events they have lived through
Deep seated anger and hate takes many tolls
Darkness takes on form in many strange ways
Be it the void of all light, in a black, lonely space
Or the blackest of souls, of all those that betrays
Darkness can change into light within a loving grace
15 of them begin the emotional ritual attired in silk & sequens,
they maneuver miraculously one after another on burning coals glowing violet,
the dance steps are heartbeats, curved & compassionate, their majesty is inviolate,
their Art is to suffer for Hope wrought from the ribbon of Reality's casualties,
fifteen to infinity the ladies become shooting stars
lazered through a constellation collapsing into a single sphere of suspense,
the crowd claps, cymbals chyme and a sorcerer's symbols
rain in a fury of subconscious superstorm, confusing chaos
and charming candor as relics vouchsafed in this cosmic cavern,
the Eye of Providence appears annonymously, winking with Blessings
on the forehead of a girl crooning for Roman gifts of iron roses & opium doses
as she poses prettily on top of the Arch of the Covenant
where angels scorch alms and demons dine on delirium,
a flame spitter and sword swallower run to the forefront
as the music deepens within the skulls of saints,
they confront each other with pride, mortal misgivings alight in their eyes,
a contest between Altruism & Misanthropy,
which will prevail, fire or steel, which to survive, love or hate,
one gets stabbed, the other burned, wagers wave through the theater,
lots of chatter, banter & bravado, the wounded continue with character,
Innocence tries to exit but is not allowed by Wherewithal
as the two forces seem to be fatally struck
a curtain closes ceremoniously and all that remains,
endangered enlightenment echoes, and echoes like thunder
while a beautiful candle glows, not yet bent or spent
and everyone in attendance calms and knows,
in absence of love, nothing but misery can be achieved -
J.A.B.
I hate you now, you did me wrong
I did you till the cows came home,
My friend called and said, ‘’she was through with you’’,
And I was jealous because, "I was weak, and didn't
Have the wherewithal to walk away.!
Now my best friend is leaving me with you.
Leaving me to crave you all alone.
I should have been gone...
You took away some of my ‘’top of the list folks’’-
With your too sweet facade, and I still held on.
Why did I stay? It was your sweet
Soothing ways, comforting me,
Calling me from out of my sleep to rendezvous with you.
I have lost my taste for you.
I am trying to get away from you.
Large portions, ‘’too much sugar for a dime’’.
Killing myself for the desire of you,
Addicted to the thrills you bring.
Sweet thing, I want to hate you.
Sugar, I am trying to hate you it’s simple
I heard that once I let you into my system, you’ll start to cohort
with the enemy and promote cancer inside of my temple.
Sugar, I am done with you; unlike my friends;
I am not willing to die for your, sugary appeal.
Word is you cheat, you like to sneak around inside,
Of once healthy snacks, and cause heart attacks,
Causing joint inflammation and arthritis pain.
Crippling me as you hide in eatable staples,
Appearing as safe. I will spit you out at the table!
I hate you now sweetie- trick no good ...
Don't care that you’re refined:
Never again “knowingly “will I swallow you:
Only for you to consume me as a killer treat.
Sugar" I am dumping you for honey,
And ‘’ my honey can go in raw’’.
‘’ my honey’’ will keep my company
And I won’t even miss you at all.!
Sweet Thang…
I am standing for the woman that is too weak to stand,
A string of abuse she has suffered all her life long.
She believes she is on her own no one to support her
So I will be her strength and support, her verbal backbone.
Let me then tell you Mr. Abuser, I will not stand aside,
While you tear down the walls of the weak and feeble.
In your face I’ll stand, with my shoulders squared fast,
Been there, stepped up, overcame, so that is my armor.
Now that’s not where I’ll leave it, more needs to be done
For the woman that is weak and feeble in self esteem.
A rescue is not the wherewithal, there has to be a goal
For her to strive unto, on the road she'll walk to being whole.
Encourage her to use her past of pain, to build
A better self for her future and make her fears
Be the rock on which she stands, to reach higher
Above the murk of abuse and self-mutilation.
For Debbie's contest: Stand
What makes the hiking up mountains more striking?
What makes the driving more fun than arriving?
What makes the ocean-ing worth the sun lotioning?
Gear!
Gear makes the biking much more to my liking,
Gear makes the camping way less spirit-damping,
Gear makes the gardening less callous-hardening,
Let's hear it for Gear!
Now softball-leaguing is way more intriguing,
Now boogie boarding is much more rewarding,
Now even jogging feels less like a flogging,
3 cheers for the Gear!
Titanium! Spandex! Aluminum! Latex!
Hi-tech! All-weather! Light as a feather!
No wonder I struggled for many a year -
I had not the wherewithal to buy the gear!
Villanelle : Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
Knows not Yang in Yin’s tai chi arms gets kicked out of bed
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
The Good by nature will not stir to quell the scheming Devil
Post-coitus female praying mantis munches the male’s head
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
If you do nothing at all everything will turn to rot or swill
The sink will reek with stink and leeching bed-bugs are bred
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
Then even the police and security forces will outright kill
Seize by force the rightful hard-earned virtue of the Good
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
The relativity principle wants that both abide in goodwill
Be that so who lets the Evil get the upper-hand and go ahead
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
Hound rape denounce torture deprive confound steal kill
All thoughtless actions which in the heartless are self-bred
Whosoever’s inveigled by the general theory of Good in Evil
The fight’s then over better still forfeit all moral wherewithal
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014