after Privilege of Being by Robert Haas
A tipping point of too many
are talking harshly. Down below,
demon-dead in the unstirred inferno
and perdition of animal thirsting
are coiling one another's tails in response.
They are honeyed vermillion and covered
in trim the texture of hot picamar.
They espy up all the time
at the graceless rapture—
it must sound to them like cold butter
dancing across a cast iron skillet.
Then one voice—she is about to shout—
takes the man's rigid hand and says,
listen to me, and he does.
Or is it the man caressing loose
the gravelly noose of anger?
Anyway, they do,
they listen to each other:
two minds with matured mediums,
hungry to be heard, to be fed by the frisson
of recognition, their skin sizzling with it—
brutal words turned into kindness
by well-intended touches,
and the gossiping, nosy dead are derelict
and growing deaf. They hate it.
They scream a chivvy about injustice
that breaks no skin, but frays the veil
between
what's bone and broth—
a warning, a dirge, a hiss of envy
worse than silence.
In bejeweled jade landscape
the topaz terrain rolls
on wondrous waves,
undulating with
the sculpted panorama
of pristine cadence,
entrenches in earthen frame
the sprawling shape
of a serene lake
sublimely sparkling,
the sapphire shining face
looks up
toward the cerulean sky,
entranced.
The southern zephyr
whispers enticing melody
to the rhapsodic ripples
intensely passionate,
spread in seraphic span
of self-centric rhythm,
slide on slithering shadows
of the dancing trees,
lining the contorted contours
of the splashing shore,
adorned.
Malachite lotus leaves
float flamboyant
with pulsating fervor,
the ruby flush of full bloom
makes the collage
of fiery fresco
with fanning feathers
of flaming flamingos,
their ballerina legs wading
the emerald waters
in avian grace,
supple napes swiveling
in charismatic concerto
of aquatic ballet,
surreal.
In the hypnotic gleam
of the setting sun
I watch the lacustrine opera.
Come over and let's reason,
My heart pumps of all that tints my ears.
Could it be true and real
That life has Spongs itself off our lain?
To mean that our heroes' energy is dent.
Hmmmm!!!
This can't be true,
Cos the essence of reality is gone off it.
Our land, oh our land is glory in its blood.
As all hands are handicap to Savage it.
For the fear of our belly, the labour of our past heroes is in vain.
And that which we fear has become our lots.
Neither old nor young is innocent
That all crave for the national cake to loot.
Arise, oh compatriots
As our nation calls for your obedience.
To save it with love, strength and faith
Not for the fight of the belly.
Which causes the fall of Gehazi
And our looping doom so soon.
Arise, oh arise!
The compatriots to Savage our land.
This is a call not the law.
The thunderous waves,
It’s dimensions infinite,
Clandestine Ocean!
How magnificent,
Formidable, perplexing
Yet how reticent!
Enigmatic forms,
Augmenting the dusk and dawn,
Divine creation!
(14/06/2011)
From Brad Pitt to him
I changed my taste, it seemed
A guy with red hair and pale skin
Not to mention his natural freckles
Practically, those probably sound
not that keen
But believe me, regarding his
miraculous roles, he wins
Can you see ‘Dream Catcher’
actors
Without laying a concern on him
Can you observe his ‘Band of
Brothers’
Without get stunned by him
Can you track his ‘Life’ factors
Without wish for a husband like
him
You cannot, can you?
That’s what I feel too
He’s just too precious
To be missed by blinkings
He’s too gorgeous
To be cut by commercial linkings
I know you know who I mean
Or you never heard his name
His charisma, I’ve seen
He, surely, more than just a fame
*Dedicated to Damian Lewis
(actor in band of brothers, dream
catcher, the assassin in love, life -
tv series, homeland tv series).
Sits on 3rd place for "WORD PORTRAIT" contest
(14/06/2011)
From Brad Pitt to him
I changed my taste, it seemed
A guy with red hair and pale skin
Not to mention his natural freckles
Practically, those probably sound
not that keen
But believe me, regarding his
miraculous roles, he wins
Can you see ‘Dream Catcher’
actors
Without laying a concern on him
Can you observe his ‘Band of
Brothers’
Without get stunned by him
Can you track his ‘Life’ factors
Without wish for a husband like
him
You cannot, can you?
That’s what I feel too
He’s just too precious
To be missed by blinkings
He’s too gorgeous
To be cut by commercial linkings
I know you know who I mean
Or you never heard his name
His charisma, I’ve seen
He, surely, more than just a fame
*Dedicated to Damian Lewis
(actor in band of brothers, dream
catcher, the assassin in love, life -
tv series, homeland tv series).
Wicked
Young minds
They delude innocence
Forever they act sovereign
Ameer
Childish
Their behavior
Often they clamor
Wail their emotions behemoth
Dour
Play
With gesture
Time befriend rejoice
Busied with oneirisms foretold
Pollyannaish
Cozened
Hatful alibis
Bebop their paroles
Disputes often looked battles
Liberty
Bored
By pages
Books limned cartoons
Brains mattered to creations
Jejune
Love
Yet teemed
Maneuvered by care
Parents seek for smile
Charismatic
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