rain circumvented
grooves in my limbic region....
heart bleeds tears
orbit around
ideas
once held
close
in past selves
rhetoric
bathed
in clichéd
visual
representation
burnished
impulse
strengthened
by the
the wilderness
of
inner life
needs
posited
by visual
language
unmoored
from contexts
vagueness
&amorphous
abstraction
fervency
erased
spring up
distilled
of some
essence
circumvented
in
narcissistic
grafting
of self
in the tangible
permanence
of durable
words
Hidden scruple of consciousness scuffling
yet to be scudded through assigned locus,
focusing on clarification surpassing confusion.
Mystic mind mesmerised on translucent thoughts,
suffused by morose mist needs transparency.
Confused contour of path of life congested in chaotic commotion
demanding luminosity of serene sublime soul
waiting for brightly shining sparkling stars to illumine.
When Angelic Aura will glow behind placid maroon Moon,
encumbered heart may turn ebullient, exuberant soon.
Conscience if circumvented by illusion, clairvoyance
of cosmic profoundness to exhibit ecstatic effulgence.
Radiance of contemplation will illumine discombobulated musings
welcoming freshness of dawn dew glistening on bliss of realisation.
blessed by my ecstatic ethereal enlightenment.
The 70's brought a wake-up call, embracing some needed change.
Some women with unwanted pregnancies were self-mutilating, so insane.
It seems we are now regressing like a patient who's demented.
Why would a women's right to choose now be legally circumvented?
Too many women lost their lives in a blood bath so obscene.
Botched coat hanger abortions and
other unsafe means.
Do you hear their voices?
Can you count their screams?
We have learned nothing, or so it seems.
Too many women's lives ended tragically.
Where are their death statistics?
Are we too blind to see?
God help a nation that forgets it's own history.
Eractive verses
dissolve in
circumvented
waves of
irreal words
& surreal swords
(mill for the grist)
Versating ellisions
mutate in
discombobulated
wordclouds of
maloverted lords
& diverted hordes
Egestive extremism
emerges from
specious endgames
& epic sadism
Mismusing holists
grope for hope
within mischievous holes
& eternal sloth
Blobified circumstances
cavort with
aversive erasures
ensuring elusive endings
& erosive circumbobulation
(grist for the thrill)
Can I picture being on a plane
Or in a car that’s rented?
Eating indoors in a restaurant,
My fears all circumvented?
Can I see myself discovering
My flight’s been scratched from going,
Just pacing in the airport lounge,
My panic up and growing?
I am stuck inside a Covid box
Despite my three injections,
Yet when I think of breaking out,
I face the same objections.
Perhaps I’ll never reach the point
Of feeling safe and stronger,
But ‘til that day arrives, I will
Stay put a little longer.
Several of us will be circumvented with forgiveness.
Our life will unfold the way we desire, owning to faithfulness.
When it is easy, wrath might be exchanged with hopelessness.
Even harsh criticism would elicit anguish and unhappiness.
Written: August 25, 2021
Love can do what "Power" cannot do: After "Power" has done its best and given up:"LOVE" takes up "THE BEST OF POWER",and continues "THE JOURNEY",because without "LOVE" the journey ends!!!!!!!! "POWER become defeated without "LOVE" for sure. "POWER get defeated for "NOT LOVING"! "LOVE is an ACTION WORD",and cannot be "FOOLED" or "Beguiled"or "Circumvented" by "POWER"! "LOVE" judges "POWER" to the place we call "Eternal Life"or to the place we can realize is "Eternal Damnation"! Love is an "ACTION WORD" for sure! Let us love. Do not be afraid of loving too too much. LOVE is the fulfilling of "THE LAW"!
We delude ourselves.
There is an act that is supposed to protect our privacy.
It is, in the larger scheme of thing, not but a fantasy.
It is not but a means to have us feel safe, an illusion.
This act can be circumvented, simply, confusion.
All one has to do is take the time and apply.
The powers that be, simple for them to spy.
As they secretly do, always keeping a watchful eye.
Open, searching violating the privacy of you and I.
Privacy ???, with the governments eye in the sky.
Cameras on the roads, in buildings, privacy but a lie
Big brother is watching us !!!
There is nothing left to discuss
B. J. “A ” 2
February 24th 2021
water spurting
from a gargoyle spout…
I am drawn to
the gurgling of a baby
in his mother’s arms
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
© 20th January 2020
[Published in Cattails Spring/April issue 2020 p. 86]
Editor’s choice:
The hinge of the poem by Paul Callus is a homophony - gargoyle and gurgle. The similar sound reveals a distinction between a hideous gargoyle and an innocent baby, but the baby if it cries - spouts water - can also look like a gargoyle. However, this is circumvented by the mother’s care so the poem begins in the ugly but ends in Madonna-like serenity and centres on the implied but absent fountain - of tears or of life and love.
Sonam Chhoki
- - - - - - - - - -
Happily blinded by oppression
yet oppressed in a happy manner
being unemployed is circumvented
by the heavy consumption of alcohol
I gulp down my sorrows..
Yet I have learned to be joyful
Friday night around brown bottles
ex haling the brightest tomorrows
Talking about sweet nothings
We the slaves of our own minds..
Intoxication sees as a way out
poverty becoming the latest trend
We suffer to the core that through
All this pain,depression,oppression
we are rehearsed to give a fake smile
and see only happiness...
The nightlife!
Like potent owls of nature
we become vibrant in the night.
Daylight circumvented by sleep.
This nightlife is a buzz..
The streets are flooded
substance abuse increasing drastically.
Morals become looser on hips,
values no longer fit our style.
This nightlife is brutal...
In the mist of tobacco
the burden of reeking beer
I struggle to see a light.
We have become oppressors
of our own tomorrow.
This nightlife corrupts...
The night life disguised as fun.
Steals dreams and ambition,
manipulates the dress code
of success to seem of grief.
This life has left me weak
inseparable from a tot
My lungs seem reliant on
what seems fun to a teenager
I am filled with aggression
insomnia a lifestyle.
If only in my more fragile years
I realized that school rhymed
with cool.
I would have been right
In avoiding the night..
October Thirty-first
creature after creature
carefully finding their way to your
chaotic world
cyclops and
chimeras
carelessly chasing humans around like toys
camazotzs and
coinchenns
cramming young human and animal flesh into their
considerably terrifying muzzles
creatures creeping around every
corner
caged in the coldest part of hell
circumvented for one day of every year
circumspect the worse for
creatures are free on
October thirty-first
I have traveled many miles.
Laborious steps I have taken
in my daily progress.
The road has been rough,
and sometimes it has been smooth.
Things stood in my way.
Somehow, they were circumvented.
Life has been one blind trek
over unknown territory.
There have been no signs to point the way.
No maps show me how to get there.
I have many more miles to go
until I end my journey.
This is the journey we all call life.
there is no more, nor is there less
it's like Alice through the looking glass
I circumvented one of the rules
now off the table what left you unglued
back to the banter, the touch and go
an even keel back to what we know
teasing thoughts and passion screams
under the moon when you fall asleep
the monsoons pass and there's thunderless sky
moving from summer into cold winter nights
you get closer as you follow your dream
brushing past the valley with old memories
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