Stealing your thoughts
a crime of dispassion
the penalty fatal
my name stays unknown
A larcenous caper
whose felony looming
authorities chasing
though lost will they roam
Returning your musings
a word to each notion
attached and delivered
through eyes that retake
Enlightened resplendence
unfenced by Jehovah
no borrowers promise
— this thief ever makes
(The 1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2025)
Categories:
borrowers, angel,
Form: Rhyme
We think we are free
But alas..as long as
Separation and autonomy
Are sown into our
Cloak of beliefs
We are borrowers
Accumulators
Of beliefs not our own..
Freedom eludes..
Freedom is felt when
It is found that these
Borrowings are also
Expressions of
Indefinable Freedom...
Categories:
borrowers, death, identity, irony,
Form: Blank verse
Shouldn’t we readily agree,
Not to it like a decree,
Feeling really very free,
Unlike the under-lock-and-key,
That glances are for lent newspapers,
That shouldn’t in the borrowers hands last?
And to a reader, the foremost of his helpers,
Subduing the passages fast?
Men at the fascinating linger a glance,
But at The Suspicious glances steal,
Like detectives do on any sneaking chance,
With the demand for them damned real,
Every fired momentary glance,
Still a penetrative lance:
The would-have-been-good-enough,
For Prophet Elijah’s finishing off,
By the Baal Worshippers in a war dance,
And about him long begun to prance.
Normal glance: an attention in The Military,
Let alone The Stolen of the Gloomily Solitary,
With a frightful interest in Suicide,
But also appraising the merits of Genocide.
Hatch though glances do the poorest in detail,
Most of their reports rather a retail,
The looker furnishing scant contentment,
His eyes giving a fresh employment:
The longer look of curiosity that wasted the cat,
And demeanor of one who’d soon smell some rat.
Categories:
borrowers, books, character, evil, humanity,
Form: Rhyme
On Monday
I plan my week and
Make neoteric friends
On Tuesday
I deal with my pending works
Fetch money from borrowers
On Wednesday
I engage with m studies and
Spend some time on clinching knowledge
On Thursday
I clean my messy house and
Spare time on education platforms
On Friday
I finally had some time for myself
Do yoga and meditation than regular times.
On Saturday
I do my pending works and
Make sure everything is done.
On Sunday
I spend time with family and
Rest, Relax, and Reinforcement.
Categories:
borrowers, dedication, truth,
Form: Free verse
This someone you loved, died,
It is hard to find the words to describe.
I wrote a poem that might comfort you –Now-
~
To the grieving family--------
O’ what a borrower, I am;
What a borrower, we are;
It’s hard to materialize;
These tears that we would cry;
Tho! This soul has passed away;
We were honored true;
~
Surely we shall remain;
In comfort with memories;
Of our loved one whose been taken;
Onto, onto to glory, this we’re not mistaken;
Who are we but just partakers?
We are borrowers…
~
God grant us to be together;
Alas now and maybe in the forever;
Shed no tears, sadden not be;
In mercies grace and heaven we’ll see;
Back to the dust, alas I’m eternal spirit-soul;
Miss you yes… But I know you’ve gone on with the Lord;
You were not really totally ours…
For you are, (you’re) borrowed from God
You were…
6/22/19
For Funeral, Eulogy, or Memorial Service Poetry Contest Cash Prize Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Team PoetrySoup
Categories:
borrowers, analogy, appreciation, bereavement, death,
Form: Free verse
The silliest neighbors are getting on my nerves.
Always wanting to borrow a car or a snow blower.
Asking for money, and I wish I was kidding.
My dad said I should start asking them first.
Maybe he has a point.
But what if they say “no”
What if they stop speaking to me?
What if we stop being friends?
How will I get my stove and my husband back?
Categories:
borrowers, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Light Verse
We don't own anything.
The petaled glade or ocean tide.
The mighty mountain or lonely stream.
We're just one grain of nothing on an eternal beach.
Borrowers of time we are.
Life is a blessing, but we own only-memories and death.
Don't fret over or material things, everything's temporary.
Even skyscrapers and pyramids break apart-eventually.
Pay no heed to what you want, it's all about the need.
Now you're in the foothills of your final breath.
The machines of man sprouting from your chest.
A million regrets whipping inside the head.
Your only companions are all... what ifs.
As you approach the final hours of a half-wasted life.
You become just another stray, meowing for one last crumb of time.
Categories:
borrowers, life,
Form: Rhyme
The play of the night
Upon which we speak
Opens the evening with delight
And create a positive spin
She saves her heartache
For the master of night
Where the moonlight
Penetrates the heart
And allows the pain to depart
Through sleeves of trains
Of whistles and borrowers
Of words, there are stars
That elicit another realm
Of dominance where she can’t
Escape, but filters the heartache
Into pieces of manageable
Parts, where the night
Opens into soft requiems
And the moon delivers
Its peace once again
Russell Sivey
Categories:
borrowers, heartbreak, moon, night,
Form: Free verse
Sound the trumpets
Whispers of lotus flowers
Hot anger trapped in pantries
Shows, shows, shows, and buttons
Making space for eyes
On the return, on the return,
I'll be grateful on the return.
Shot-to-hell oven lights
Borrowing from the borrowers
New linens from fresh tears
Good morning, Sleepyface
You turn gutters into cathedrals
On the return, on the return,
See I'm grateful on the return.
Categories:
borrowers, baby, beauty, love,
Form: Free verse
are we cowards
hiding in the dark of night
or heroes awaiting daybreak?
sinners, mocked in guilt’s disguise,
saints, averting sinner’s eyes
borrowers and lenders of
the fleeting touch of heartless love,
bearers of a passioned torch
or pillars of a crumbled church.
do we define our fear
as enlightened self interest,
our bravery as self sacrifice,
if we were shadows of the sun
would we hold fast
or cut and run,
fear the sound of terror’s heart
beating in the lightless dark,
quell the pounding and declare
I am the light
Who sent me here.
John G. Lawless
12/24/2013
Categories:
borrowers, introspection,
Form: Free verse
IMF's Dominique Strauss Kahn
Wanted a hotel suite bon-bon
This forceful hard sell
In New York's Sofitel
Is what all his borrowers chew on
Categories:
borrowers, allegory
Form: Limerick