Don’t chide me for my naked words,
stripped of pathos.
I feel no shame for the shyness of old age—
beneath a sheet in the dim light
of twilight's hour.
All my life, I have carried in my soul
that irreconcilable beauty born of lovemaking.
Yet I no longer have the strength
to pursue desire.
I would like to listen to the sound of bonfire sticks crackling as he chucks one on and the second he throws to a dithering dog-or the waves lapping on the shore steadily, a toddler’s toes dipping in that sea and then he screams and runs right away to his parents who are devouring literature upon the shore. They loyally guard his sandcastle then chide him for pushing his sister who had stumbled and fallen on that work of art. I’d like to watch the tide go in as picnic baskets are cleared away and the last of the suncream is lathered thick on children’s skin. I’d like to taste the locals' ice cream letting bristles of my hair stick to my face and needing a second as the first melted right away sullying my beach wear. I’d like to smell sausages almost charcoaled on the grill as children are as speedy as rockets with plastic plates at the ready. A summer living by the coast would be sure to enliven my spirit and cater for my senses.
Reports they redact and hide
Experts who tried can’t chide
Appliance of science denied
Us all being taken for a ride
On some helter skelter slide
With no shelter in or outside
Swelter in this delta of snide
Fried by fake national pride
As the past & future collide
Know on us all have spied
Our secrets they have pried
Data for advertisers supplied
Time to choose your side
Surmise AI guys pie eyed
In Geneva should be tried
For war crimes can’t abide
Yes it is up to us to decide
To stop the slop of the tide
What term history’s applied
Call it genocide or ecocide?
Either way everything died !
The world is loud, the water’s deep,
And there are promises I try to keep
On trembling knees, with fading sight,
Wrestling the silence of this night.
I’m caught between the now and not yet,
Tangled in the fears I can’t forget.
But then You breathe.
You tell my anxious heart to stay,
To not run hide, or fix, or fight,
But just to sit within the gray,
And trust You’re working in the night.
It takes a fierce, unearthly power
To hold me still in such an hour.
I am in awe of how You wait
Beside me at the broken gate.
You do not chide my heavy heart,
Or tear my fragile faith apart.
Instead, Your strength becomes my shield
A quiet force in this dark field.
So here I’ll wait, my hands undone,
Looking toward the rising sun.
For You are good and You are near,
Tending the soil of every fear.
My strength is gone but Yours is vast;
You hold my future and my past.
I will stay. I will wait.
For You have never closed the gate.
-Inspired by one of my favourite songs, Stay and Wait by Hillsong United
The Quiet keeps a little Door—
No Mortal sees it Swing—
Yet every Rose that folds its Silk
Knows well the hidden Thing—
A Fragrance—not of Orchard fair—
Nor Clover, kissed by Noon—
But Earth's own solemn Covenant
Beneath the Harvest Moon—
The Lilies do not chide the Dust—
The Robin stays his Hymn—
For Life resigns her borrowed Breath
To Chambers faint—and dim—
What Men would name Corruption's Trade—
The Meadow whispers—"Grace"—
Each Falling Leaf becomes a Star
In some forgotten Place—
If Putrescine should wear a Crown—
'Tis woven not of Shame—
But of the patient Chemistry
That gives the Soil its Name—
So Death—who keeps no jealous Purse—
Returns what once was given—
And every silent Molecule
Still keeps its Road—to Heaven.
.
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13.
Horned Angels
Adore the heroes and heroines of this nation mine
Uplift us from scourge of damned clasping poverty line
Over the kings' banquet, eyes open wide
Just mouth remain bold, don't fear truthful chide
Horned angels endure to oppose treachery wine.
-01/04/2007
(Dumarao)
*Topsy-Turvy Limerick Ironic
A Quiet Hand will press the Soul—
So Soft—you scarcely know—
Until your Breath becomes a Crime
They’re certain you must owe—
They scatter Thorns along your Path
Then marvel when you bleed—
And chide the very Wound they made
As Proof of some dark Deed—
They set a Storm within your Chest
And call the Lightning yours—
Though they, with calculated Calm,
Unlocked the trembling Doors—
But Truth—like timid Clover—hides
And waits for Dawn to see—
How small the Tyrant’s Kingdom is
When You at last walk free.
If the best things in life are free
Why does the world revolve around money?
Must I die in order to enjoy my fruits?
What lies ahead after the game of pursuit?
After I possess the gold, cars and home
What other wealth can I obtain unknown?
Can I buy a ticket into the pearly gates?
How can I obtain a way to avoid destiny or fate?
Must I pay friends in order for them to stand by me?
Without currency, will the love of my life still lay beside me?
At night, will this witch continue to ride me?
Will the spirit of greed forever chide me?
How long will the almighty dollar hide me?
Worldly riches will never make me whole
For, I am rich within my soul
Yet, my final home I have yet to see
My father possesses riches unknown
Throughout eternity I wallow besides poverty happily
But poverty will never swallow me
The long blue waves upon the golden sands
are rolling in.
Steady their throb, it is the best of hearts that stands
at peace within.
There are blue hills beyond the tide, but they
are shrouded now.
The sea mists, stretch across the bay,
hanging thick and low.
Yet are they there, the fisherman who steers
his boat, brown-sailed,
compass true, doubts not, nor trembling fears
that his errand failed.
There are blue hills beyond life's restless tide;
at times we catch
faint glimpses of their beauty, such chide
our faithless watch.
Why strain our eyes to pierce the mist that hides
our picture dim?
We have a pilot who commands the tides;
trust all to Him.
Ah ! Seven Sisters Wild
let your blueness flow in tides
for hot bread and blankets red cosy
loosen grids to free muddled minds rosy
so all may smell
nasturtiums tangling moist moss bells
Ah ! Seven Sisters Wild
slip here in solitary hours mild
to turn dial in cold of night
tuning to forgotten memories
of secret airy flights
where you taught mysteries
which I now remember as histories
Ah ! Seven Sisters Wild
are you chanting or baking chide
or decorating star garden walls
awaiting awakening calls
the dark silences of your eyes
embracing arums
we arise
I y e a r n for H O M E
~~~~~~~~~
The speaker spoke in a guttural cry
Screeching against the day
Dooming us all to lay down and die.
We all uttered a final sigh
Nothing for us left to say
The speaker spoke in a guttural cry.
Trembling, our fates cast and chide
Unholy it takes us down one way
Dooming us all to lay down and die.
No longer any charades to ply
To cause respite or other delays
The speaker spoke in a guttural cry.
That bastard who led us to fry
Missiles overhead as we pray
Dooming us all o lay down and die.
Nuclear fire, the apocalypse tries
To decimate the world, plutonium haze
The speaker spoke in a guttural cry
Dooming us all to lay down and die.
In a sky not ours, your name still shines brighter than ever.
Through cosmic storms and trials we sever, yet love remains our endless endeavor.
Through endless stars and fate untold, our souls entwine, forever bold.
Through fate’s embrace, dreams retold. Our love glows brighter then molten gold.
The stars may scold, the winds will chide. But love remains, a fire inside.
Through starlit trails where fate resides, your love remains my constant guide.
Beyond all worlds, through time untried, love leads us forth, a light inside.
Allusions lead to absence?
Believe it, sir and ma'am.
Hold the door? Then get ye hence?
Why the constant slam?
Truth be told, the terror tells.
Tollbooth of the dead.
Nebula, will-o-the-wells.
Stray to look ahead...
Young the yellow yearling?
It's right there in his name.
Hornets, honeybees. Same sting?
Stake it on thy claim.
Frame of usual story?
O kindness, are you real?
Would if could, morning glory?
Flicker as ye feel!
Unity the ugly damn?
Indeed. That's been true.
Summertime, the crowds thin. Ham?
Blow away the blue.
Hated is the world outside!
Woe betide, landslide.
Pace of poet, poison plied.
How the cockerels chide...
The thing about killing Angels
you have to remember is always go for the kill shot
Most of them can easily take a grenade to the face
Those arch ones usually stay put and watch
Basically on tap with God
Seldomly they will make an appearance
Demons are tricky
Disguise themself basically animal vegetable mineral
One time my electric razor tried to bite a clump from my cheek, huh still makes me smile
He turned towards the boy
His crumple of a face
grimacing
The book boy learn it well
He turned hunched over
Bent and snatched the head from
the prone child at his feet
The sack boy open it
Without the head
We won’t be fed….
The boy pulling a single golden strand from his pocket
the strand warping reality around it
air forming the sack
Please
Just once
Not a three point shot…
Another 3 seconds he chide only infinity to go
At this rate we will be working long after the end
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