A rainbow or counterflow … symmetry,
Time marks a question measured to wrangle,
Quantity taxes or pay quality.
First, the chick or egg, begs the novelty,
Harmony and anarchy vie tango,
A rainbow or counterflow … symmetry.
Highs and lows, trials on trails that Odyssey,
Couples meet ... kneels, and fingers … betrothal,
Quantity taxes or pay quality.
Germane proportionate necessity,
Bidders will empowerment substantial,
A rainbow or counterflow … symmetry.
Blind contends, an object than rivalry,
A contest midst, wins or lose, a gamble,
Quantity taxes or pay quality.
Observant confident, sees victory,
The keenly bid, competitors scramble,
A rainbow or counterflow … symmetry.
Won prize stashed, slips by geniality,
Bewildered notes calm, auctioneer’s gavel,
Quantity taxes or pay quality,
A rainbow or counterflow … symmetry.
He came in dressed in black
and an ominous silence fell over the bidders
But there was no turning back
They had entered a vey dark realm
Then the bidding started
The bids got higher and higher
It reached a frenzied pitch.....
But the lady with sad eyes had made the highest bid
Silence fell over the room once more
as she stood up to claim her prize
How could she win,
When the auctioneer had just sold death to the highest bidder
What I had luckily caught
One exorbitantly bought,
Long after I had it brought:
A salmon by a crowd sought
And for it bitterly fought...
Many bidders voicing their thought
Nearly making it a sport,
Save the one who had been taught
To huge sums pay on a spot
So as to remain on top,
As things become goddamned hot
To Plain Delay not a lot
And fast leave before he’s shot
Most competitive amusing employment
in transacting tired
old school entertainments
support economic
and political services
to and from
highest corporate
commercial out-bidders.
Most cooperative musing
wraps in sacred
musical new year vocations
for engaging transpositions
empowering
enlightening
bicameral humane/divine
deepest systemic
and widest compassionate
co-listeners.
The Stradivarius
(A rare violin)
The Stradivarius lay still, waiting for a master's skill
The silent bow with deep yearnings,
for a master's touch upon its strings.
Across the case a price was laid,
that the auctioneer had displayed.
The sale began, the atmosphere tense.
The amount of interest was immense
The offers soared, the fervour increased.
Then the gavel came down and the bidding ceased.
A bidder had been willing to pay
to claim his hearts desire that day.
This prized treasure had been sold
to its owner, more precious than gold.
Now the violin would be heard again,
its silence broken by a sublime refrain.
Then the maestro picked up the violin
and placed it fondly beneath his chin.
With masterly strokes and tender care,
such heavenly music filled the air.
The noise in the room just faded away
as the bidders were hushed by the master's play.
The hearts of the people were deeply stirred
by the haunting melody that they heard.
Many tears were shed on that day.
Then the violinist just walked away.
Drama on Social Media
With every passing day
and every passing hour
world comes closer,
globe contracts
with silvery lustre
of social media.
Some, call this media
a social monster,
others, addicted badly,
few, known for moderate use
for purpose and reason.
It is the platform of continuous drama
of uniting friends and foes,
art and the artists,
leaders and the bidders,
entertainers and commoners,
gossipers and chatters.
It’s the platform of melodrama
bringing angel and fairy closer
displaying their lovely chats to public,
making tantrums and shouts in public,
their cat & dog match viewed widely,
entertaining the world of netizens.
And, one day..
angel and fairy
bid farewell
closing all their accounts
blocking and quitting social media
to end one more social media drama.
Soon, the new accounts were
opened,
fairy is seen with another angel,
angel is seen with other fairy
to begin one more entertaining
drama on social media.
******
Watching the lushness pass below me
Rivers lazy, paddies verdant
Crater ringlets there to show me
Wanton murder too often fervent
Young men dying, futures slaughtered
An idiotic, absurd endeavor
Unborn sons and unborn daughters
Our loss, their loss, gone forever
Who remembers, who considers
Those whose dreams that ended there?
Souls for sale to highest bidders
My soul, their souls, shared despair
Time will heal us, time a buffer
Every year as memories fade
Lest we forget those boys who suffered
Too high the price that they all paid
Shall I compare a summer’s day to thee
in an effort to make lust seem profound,
you’re hot, wanted, and can make men sweaty,
but is it worth it when the sun goes down?
Paying so much to go out on the town,
at the nicest restaurants you have to eat,
vacation at the ritziest sports around,
reveling in being looked at as meat.
Knowing what you command with your beauty,
hoping to bring the high-bidders in close,
living the high life until you’ve drained me,
then to the next man you so swiftly go.
You’re hot, but you are a pain-in-the-neck,
is it really all worth it just to get sex?
A golden day like this is worth money,
it was dusk but seemed like morning.
An auction to attract the highest bidders,
the fading day,
and the rainbow too sold out its colors…
I watched the clouds as they transacted,
in a hurry, and the bats passing to get contracted,
hence more gold but was departing…
The trees in their still and without moving,
until lightning flashed,
the wind then go for the brazen day,
as the disturbed thunder grumbled, at evening.
I will have the clouds whipped till it is raining,
the winds now whispering like children wailing,
the night passed and day in the making,
a golden day like this,
should be worth a lot of money…
What the Loo Cleaner Saw:
vicars'
knickers
hippo's
nipples
bidders'
skidders
hatters'
splatters
farters'
garters
written 22nd October for Jan's Footles contest
a sample of rock
collected from the moon - -
bidders go crazy
for Carolyn's gemstone contest
You auctioned my love
Because you couldn't pay
The price of keeping me
In good repair...
Too time consuming
Too hard
Too demanding
Too tough
And so you auctioned me away
You auctioned my love away
And watched
All the bidders
In a frenzy of excitement
Raising the price
sky high
For my finish was fine
Aesthetically pleasing
A "masterpiece"
They did not see
They did not know
What you auctioned was flawed
You auctioned me away
You auctioned my love away
“Going once…
Going twice…
Going three times…..
Gone!”
You cried a little on the inside
When you saw hands reach for me
Mr Auctioneer
But the tears were not enough
Not the tears of sacrifice
Which was the greater price
For having me
How can you keep something beautiful
Without the sacrifice of time
Emotions
Energy
And your very soul?
Too great a price
And so you auctioned me away
You auctioned my love away
And to this day
You wonder where I've gone
Where I've been hung
Which wall I decorate
How I’m being handled of late
You auctioned me away
You auctioned my love away
And now you pay
Now you pay….
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The Body of Christ has been mutilated,
Placed on scale balances for bidders,
His blood used yet still in profanity-
Drunk by freemasons and the guilty.
The devil has seized it, in it he bathes and laughs!
Why not? why not?
Our Holy Lord has been desecrated
By clerical cupidity and nominal indiferences.
Look ahead son, look over there!
beneath that roof where congregates
menfolk and clerics
The Body of Christ
is being weighed for the buyers.
A famous song in his own ear
Often sung enough for him to hear
Upon his being does the tune call
To make him dance just as he’s touched
By notes of thoughts on memory’s lane
So life would’ve been but not in vain
Being able to think and gather
The memories of friends and brothers
As life still is he can just think
About what for doth he still live?
Should grace within from him depart?
He would feel all but won’t feel glad
And where he lies should help seek him
What does he wield to help it with?
For as he stands he will need help
In future times and future nears
Now bidding by the bidders pass
They bid to help but woe alas
For they’re in need and cannot give
What they don’t have nor would receive
The needy lies with helplessness
With needy souls he lays to rest
And helps them out in selflessness
To get from them his long sought help.
here is to him a true christian,
worthy one, the Vincentian.
Minds lost in an unforgiving world,
Broken hearts which time does not weld.
Cries of agony and pain are echoed throughout,
Minds are filled with fear and doubt.
Sights are placed on the heavens,
Of cheerful spirits only remain ruins.
Faith and hope are but distant memories,
Pain and suffering are the ingredients of stories.
Bombs and hate destroy what was never created,
Many fall who had never ascended.
Blood flows throughout lifeless rivers,
The wealth and power go to the highest bidders.
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