screen sounds were blaring
with news which is upsetting
found hard to believe
Her silk petal lips
Whispering her words of love and lust into my ear
a siren serenades me
I know it’s time to disappear
My melancholy resounds in the sound of her voice
Persuasive and almost naive to her intentions
a choice
Do I run or give in to her bittersweet melody
a siren only calls to your death
but I give in
She’s worth my last breathe
God turned his back so I turned to sin
I couldn’t help but let her in
The lies she spun once this begun
She’s too hard to forget
The scar I wear I cannot bare
You seduced me to my death
Sparkling bright lights
Shine directly in your face
When you hear the honks
Written on January 12, 2021
We found ourselves being quite frugal;
Hired priest who played a blaring bugle;
To our alarm;
Had no charm;
Hearing his sermon had been brutal.
With all of the donuts would finagle;
She wanted one covered with maple;
Sorted through;
Did see view;
Not any so I brought her a bagel.
Limerick crochetés: Once a blaring braying bold trumpet
for Nicanor PARRA
Once a blaring braying bold trumpet
Used to serenading mere strumpet
Could not hold back loud fart
While entertaining tart
Now the tart on his fart took a bet
That she'd hold back twittering trumpet
If his strumpet balls bowl in cricket
So great fanfare to start
Nations came to hear fart
Trumpet let down strumpet: tart lost bet
(can be continued…)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
blaring music everywhere
noise all around and sideways
even blue venusians
stop up their ears and pray
to the gods for lullabies
A quiet heart of thunderous yearning,
I've nothing left to do,
when my heart becomes forever silenced,
because my dreams won't come true.
My desire to fascinate,
to open eyes across the seas,
lingers now only in heart,
a desire meant only for me.
How is it so,
my passion to be locked away,
when my heart continues,
striving for the art everyday.
No one to blame but myself,
for this calling of mine lost,
hope was the only thing I held onto,
I've been told hope is the highest cost.
I say never say never to anything possible,
especially what one's heart yearns for,
people criticize my faith in the small chance,
I believe an opportunity will knock on my door.
As I lay down every night I ponder,
I think of what still may or could have been,
in life as I know it if I still had the faith ,
of taking my place in the art i was meant to be in.
I hold fast to my dreams,
and pray it makes its way,
to my quiet heart,
so thunderous in every way.
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