THE ULTIMATE NATURE OF WAR
Sown love reaps world peace,
While sown hate will reap world war:
Power its sower:-
Sharers of love will sow peace:
Profiteers of war, sow hate:-
World peace uprooted,
War’s deforestation plows
World devastation:-
Armageddon coming:
God plowing us a new day:-
Be ever mindful,
War is a power monger’s
Child of destruction;
And will be chastised by God:
Its navel giver uprooted:-
If poetry channels our anger and sorrow
Who then will want to write it tomorrow
And will joy and contentment stifle its future?
And what will become of our stays and culture?
I say poetry has been victimized
Vilified, chastised, castigated and ostracized
Only perceived as a tool for struggle
Truths coded for smuggle
Yet poetry is just song void of tune
From the same rock hewn
For the lyrics that ride on the harmonies
Are sponsored by poetic abilities
Only poetry captures life’s odysseys
In whose form is crafted psalms and prophecies
If you want to know an expanse exceeding now
Poetry is the where and the how
Poetry in its recitation
May not cause rhythm and gyration
Care free melodies and chimes
That people seek in easy times
Until hard times force the weaning
Where people gain taste for meaning
A complementary aid for soul searching
To set the conscience forwardly marching
If poetry must fail in the market
Then it proves not to aim for your pocket
But a stinging dart to awaken your souls
When woes and lows purge all else from their roles
K. Muitherero
The mystic bay channels my
every emotion moving slowing
throughout tunnels and vessels
of my mind tampering with
my infamous glow my tangible
smile gathering mirth as i am
quite taken with self the heart
of my magnificent being tasting
the glamorous hues of heavenly
bliss coasting daintiness balanced
so well embracing thoughtful
interludes chastised mannerism
created just so as i continue
flowing between this galaxy of
stars twinkling magnitude offering
nothing an yet so glorified, fulfilled
with every inch of the fine wonders
of enduring this wide open grandeur
beyond a whisper blindly heard
bravely singing my own masterpieces
the notion a fine rapture of proses
carried out across the mystic bay
Her eyes filled up the way they do when she is predicting madness
We try not to take her words literally, for she is theatrically over-the-top
Armageddon, she told us, the armies are gathering now for end of times
Who to tell first? The father who abandoned her at eight.
She scoffed, thinking how strange it was that she thought of him first.
He was maybe her least favorite person in the world.
She almost picked up the phone to call her mother
When she realized that she would be pooh-poohed and chastised.
Who to tell? She wailed in a lamenting way to her kitchen clock.
The clock was no help, but her journal was.
She wrote a little note “I wailed in a lamenting way”.
She could use that someday.
Her sister would be going to bed about this time; she worked nights.
What about strangers? It would be fun to alert strangers.
She put on her most colorful outfit and left her home.
Running from house to house, she screamed and yelled and shrieked.
“Armageddon is here! Armageddon is here! Save yourselves!”
The neighbors were accustomed to her;
They did not open their doors or look out. They knew who it was.
A cacophonic silence,
A mere blanch of a catastrophic faliure,
A maroon in a sickening mirage,
'tis a shade one more,
As a ray one less,
Fairing smiles adiue,
Requiem of a chastised face,
Lay a bed,
O'er wond'rous, to waste.
Where'n freshen lie fast in his daze,
Merry may go his hour,
Time shroud.
However vivid,
a weary slumber ,
Is but man's sorry tire,
Weeping sore,
Once dreaded in languishment,
Once cowered behind the stars.
Not an eye unopened,
Nor a God that sleeps.
He hid his Draconian side from her
She was a Pollyanna, her heart pure
Her family disliked him immediately
His serpent-like qualities most of them could see
He whisked her away, out of town and state.
Chastised and chided her if she was missing or late
She had to give away her family and friends.
No one ever knew when or where her journey ends.
Once a ballade upon chastised boughs,
It's now finished on the clouds.
And with their much too full skies,
Its own scruples disappear; the strife
While the sun of this morning goes—
Steps behind lumps in sugar coats.
No more a silver lineage, another crown—
That is the new heart weathering now.
I'm glue in bed; shook up the frame,
Within window sights— a picture of the rain.
Though the madness on curtains gone—
There is no ghost to be of the sun.
It would not pass through rain's skim,
For a shine on an unfaithful whim.
No place to stay on the soaking ground,
Its lemon tears dry on the clouds.
Dark times close for rainbows banished—
Not coming down, it willfully vanishes.
Hemmed in by space-time and captive in form,
senses externalised, everything sized,
in bondage to lust, by dark fears chastised,
what choice do we then have, but to conform?
We notice thoughts are cold but heart is warm
and in staid silence, we’re bliss magnetised,
whence ego recedes and truth realised,
breath by breath, in timeless time, we transform.
Mind-body ballon, at will can expand,
if heart be pure and we choose to be still,
wherein no longer by thought spirals bound,
entwined with oneness, we then understand,
that once we relinquish to God our will,
soul’s light that was veiled, within heart is found.
"Tom, Tom the piper's son
Stole a pig and away he run.
The pig was eat,
And Tom was beat,
And Tom went crying down the street."
Now, this rhyme,
For a reader,
Offers minimal relief
As to who ate the pig
Or who chastised the thief.
And why Tom was punished
When his dad wasn't able
To pipe well enough
To put food on the table?
I can only hope that the author
Wound up in the slammer
For promoting delinquency,
Child abuse…
And really bad grammar!
whate and shark both wanted her love
she saved herself
for her feelings were not the same
they eventually moved on
there is no merman, other mermaids chastised her
she hoped they were wrong
prayed for a merman
other mermaids married sharks and whales and moved on
handsome kind merman arrived at the right time
he was gallant and brave,
best of all, he had been looking for her
a mermaid who was not taken
She was now taken,
as was he
they lived happily in the sea
raising darling merbabies.
on Tuesday the candy canes danced off the shelf
I almost got run over by a screaming running elf.
Where is the head baker? He asked without apology.
Watch where you are going! I yelped to that arrogant he.
Then I saw something horrific for myself.
Those striped candy canes had all danced off the shelf.
They were doing the tango, and macarena too.
I almost crunched two of them with my left shoe.
Where is Santa? I yelled as I left Candy Cane hall.
Candy canes are going wild, their personalities so tall!
Some of them followed me out the door which I forgot to shut.
Santa chastised me for this, when I finally reached his hut.
At birth our brains are wired
For some ways that we will be,
Including certain aspects of
Our personality.
Will we be shy or unreserved?
Risk-averse or bold?
Quick to act or cautious?
Independent or controlled?
Will changes be exciting
Or will we like things the same?
Will we admit when we are wrong
Or find someone to blame?
Of course, our family plays a part
As well as how we’re raised
And we may make adjustments
When we’re chastised or we’re praised.
But the circuits first connected
Form the base, to some extent,
Of the way we interact and how
Our lifetime will be spent.
Chastised by conscience that we may be baptised,
essence of presence melded with the vast void,
that in timeless time clear truth be realised,
being no longer by lower mind decoyed,
that requires everything to be weighed and sized,
so it came to pass, with delusion destroyed,
we found ourselves within but not of the world,
since the flag of love was in our heart unfurled.
Who wants my spell book? Whisker witch asked her grands.
It was a mystical book held together by large rubber bands.
This book was different because it chastised your efforts to create and bake.
Calling you mean names like “loser, ignoramus, and stupid mandrake".
I will take it said her sister, who had grown up with the book.
The witch gave her the most horrible, awful, nastiest look.
The spell book picked up on Whisker witch’s cue.
And began calling her names that turned the air blue.
That’s okay, the sister said, holding back her tears.
As the spell book called gave her a raspberry among the jeers.
One of the grands grabbed it up and threw it into the fire.
Take that! She said, and we all clapped, her bravery glad to admire.
When Daddy brought Serena a wolf pup
He did not realize what would happen
When the pup grew up and became her guardian
Serena did not have to do her homework or wash dishes.
If they mentioned it, Gray Wolf would growl a warning
Her parents had never been bitten
But they did not get that close to Gray Wolf’s teeth
His warning growl was enough to let them know
Serena did not have to do anything she did not want to do.
And you had to bring her a wolf pup!
Serena’s mother chastised her husband.
He had a bird when he was a child.
He had thought it might be the same thing.
But of course, it was not.
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