Sitting on the wire she glooms and alone
‘Down forth’ all beckon,
‘Bits of bread are there
Pick up lest the other demands share’.
The lame bird flaps in the air
Rolling down from her breast a feather,
Pecking a bit with a sense
The escorts saving by defence.
A hunter hits like the lightning from the blue
None finds out yet its clue,
Concreted blood splitting and dog's spittle
Absence of delay makes her utmost brittle,
The barking dogs in the narrow city
Whose have with her no affinity,
All green leaves falling upon ground
That is for love beyond of bound,
Odium! Odium! to the merciless beings
The supreme creatures for whom so long she sings.
An advent of raptors loiters over mall roofs.
hooded eyes scope the neon-lit spaces,
the concreted waste lands.
We wake to their screams as if this were High Sierra,
not Ohio where parent’s try-out or manage children,
open party stores, hunker through the coming
and going of baby Jesus; de-ice puffer jackets.
Gloom is plowed behind snow dunes.
The red-tails roam in loose federations,
their young, mob-handed and loutish,
the mature work alone,
scything through small birds,
the weakened and walking.
The hawks wing-dance proclaiming their time,
a time of frost-bitten electric barricades,
of bobble hats and mittens,
while unseen, a wind-rattled thorny brier,
recites its litany of seasonal prayers.
Into the Flames is where your soul will remain
The book of Life thirsts for God's pen of judgement and smite
Can't erase it even if you thought forgetting would please Him
You walked around without repentance holding on to your demons
Apologies excuses of the awful, eyes of grief as if bleeding
Only pity for the innocent not a group you believe in
As you cast your deeds of malice with a grin living, sinning
The son of God our Christ Jesus will bring you to a terrible completion
This illusion that you thought would grant you keys to The Kingdom
Comes as memory of your sanctity of self fades as do seasons
So understand that you will only become recycled, concreted
Knowing you forsake the Father yet reason so tattered and beaten....
You luxuriously flew to this
Concreted forest, looked for me
In these brown zinced roofs,
But found me not.
In despair you drove off to the
Growth points were the poor
Congregate to drink their misery off
But found me not.
Then maneuvered through the
Paired ox-drawn cart paths
Inquisively eyes picking around
But found me not.
To my grass thatched hut
Compounded by a mango tree
And a dried cropped backyard
You found me not
Selves in high dejection
On your high wheeled cars,
You drove to the encamped
Jungle, and you found me.
Picture perfect you captured me,
Precariously swinging on branches
In delight of your discovery.
Oh here i am, the story you came for.
Stony slates of stone nearby
Concreted beautifully on each other
Now mighty mountain afar
It's a jungle in here, trees over grown roots intertwined not sure where I can find a gardener.
Your name stuck to the sides like foreigner not quite sure where you belong but you decide to stay here anyway because after all you've made the journey.
You've burnt it all down like your in some sort of hurry.
You left behind tree stumps, left dirt where there were once flowers pulled the roots out and concreted it over so no new life can bloom.
Left you're tomb in all it's pride and glory made sure it's big enough so no one can creep there way in.
I've started to dance in my sleep, trying to confuse the snake in my jungle. But most of the time I fall and stumble.
Treason Reasons
Concreted cracks, abandoned train tracks,
unaffordable housing built like shacks.
Unplanted seeds gardens of weed,
never having enough to satisfy the greed.
Unseen view, is the sky blue?
Goodwill bought unlaced white shoe.
The frontyard seat on ol' bucket street,
cool air doesn't help that kind of heat.
Battles kill, unordinary run of the mill,
another happy mailman undelivered bill.
Where is our morality? What is our deal?
living here in the now is such a reality kill...
bmdavey@
02/24/16
Weeping Willows
In a picture of grief
Death lies underneath
Scattered in the far
Stands tall
To show to all
A grey mass
A written note from the past
Weeping willows pierce the ground close by
Weeping winds whistling a secrete cry
Concreted angel
Lives on
In the strong stone structure
And the ground
In which she stands upon
Never forgotten
She stands to show
Her body lays in ruins
Turned to dust over time
But she still grows
In this land of mine
A soul that knows no time
Because she is now divine
Written by Sarah linklater 20/03/15
You can smell the fall scented air,
Hear the laughter and screams at the fair.
See the dogs run loose,
Giving the kids an extra boost.
The bench I sit unto,
Had the dismay of an older clue.
Rusted edges,
Concreted ledges.
Chipped brown paint,
Turning a little faint.
If you look through my eyes,
You can see some kites in the skies.
A plane over run,
Moving briskly before the sun.
If you sit where I sit,
You'd be on the bench with a wit.
Rusted edges,
Concreted ledges.
Chipped brown paint...
Turning, a little faint.
Enough of living in my head via manufactured means.
Never will enough be said about our fractured beams.
Trying hard to let it shine, maybe gain back esteem.
Showered over people like admiration for the queen.
That's a lot of power in adminastration and its deemed not fit for the masses,
an abliteration of any keen, interest in authority! some consideration if you please. What about the majority in bad situations that we screams.
We should be priorities i hint elation from reprieves.
Up to now i been incarceration for my every deed.
I vowed to give 100 percent particapation as agreed.
Didn't know every sentence had anticaption as a seed.
Growing outta that, an intergration from my greed.
Proceeding is the installation of something that i needed.
A view of admiration at a rose concreted.
Surrounded by an urban jungle, to the establishment we have conceeded.
**** it i can't be humble my advertisement has competed,
just gotta learn not to mumble when my works completed.
Desires,
Personal progressive approach,
A natural process,
Beneficial or non beneficial,
Understandable or misunderstanding,
Cooperative or non cooperative,
Responsive or irresponsive,
Favourable or upposer,
An unbreakable Productivity,
Remarkable consequences,
Appreciated or neglected,
Negative or positive
Impartial growth,
That develops environment,
To breathe satisfactorily.
A struggle,
Extremely inspired and cureable,
Learnable activities,
Knowledgeable practices,
And re-useable or repeatable,
Subjects and material,
Retrieval experience,
Wealth of nature,
Concreted moments,
That offer opportunities,
For individual pleasure,
Joyful, saddened, calm and troubleful,
A dreamable and memorable,
A fashionable and traditional,
Compiled or adopted attitudes,
A painful or reliefable path of thoughts.
Hunger,
A natural command,
All human efforts,
Dedicated or non-dedicated,
Responsible or irresponsible,
Natural or unnatural,
Legal or illegal,
Comfortable or painful,
Supportive or non-supportive,
Understandable or misinterpreted,
Criminal or civil,
Cooperative or opposed,
Contributes a change.
Where a person seeks only rest,
We paid life to control appetite,
Women knew that one intercourse could ruin her life,
She surrenders herself to Poverty,
A Man that is educated and wealthy, seeds HIV and Aids,
A man that is powerful, challenges peace,
And polluted environment,
Where poverty is growing,
For away from his concreted boundaries,
And he delivers messages,
On the air, he has a solution to win the war.
Nobody can control appetite,
Hunger is only a natural command.
"You are my soul to stir", she said,
while winding ribbons 'round her head
in colors to befit her mood
a fuchsia braid, t'was understood
she barely spoke, but when she did
the room became a concert hall
before first notes, to hear it all
and not a whisper broke her voice
or pierced her in delivery.
"I feel that you are part of me",
She said the words, I barely breathed
while watching tears induce her eyes
to settle deep upon me.
"and when I go, I'll leave you thus
but know that I will always trust
the bond we have concreted, stands
a beacon to return to"
I saw her bags behind her then
tied to balloons in yellow, red
to float her helium out to sea
in solitude, it me, would leave.
"I am your soul to stir", I said
and put my lips upon her head
to kiss the part of me goodbye
Up to the air, I watched her fly
Ribbons and tears came raining down
I walked away, without a sound.
When a fire broken out,
It never cares for price,
Ash has left behind,
Prestigious things when cool down.
When water became flood,
No huts and concreted towers,
The dignity and respect for family,
Banished with dirt and dry leaves.
When clouds have thunders,
And lightening in darkness,
A scoundrel was hiding for safety,
When worry was to secure things.
Why are these Natural disasters?
Hurricane and earthquake,
Hits a person again and again,
But a corrupted soul never admits.
Why is life so hard to live?
If nature, things and a human,
If everyone is producing horror,
What is a meaning to prefer things?
My heart was completely hearted,
My Past was a quicksand, my ancestors,
Died without a drawing to follow up,
Younger generation has no guide lines.
When a person found a search light,
And noted a formula of luxuries,
He wrote it for his younger generation.
Without roots a tree can’t survive.
A nation that has no roots as Dalits,
Are struggling to find out the roots,
Religion, a long rooted path for living.
People want to survive by conversion.
If someone has nothing to learn from past,
Present can’t build a concreted basement,
A life will waste the natural resources and
Future will produce a criminal element.
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