Perched on a sapphire bus, its curves agleam,
In a painted glade where wildflowers teem,
A young man and lady, entwined in a glow,
Bask in love’s fervor, where soft breezes flow.
No tangled forest, but a sketch of delight,
Where a stream’s silver ripples catch dawn’s tender light.
wildflowers and violet blooms burst in the air,
Their petals like whispers, adrift without care.
Her eyes, molten amber, spark embers of dreams,
His laughter, a melody dancing with streams.
Their fingers lace gently, like vines that embrace,
Each touch a warm ember, each glance a soft trace.
Below, on a gnarled branch by the water’s bright hum,
Sits a shadowed creature, its form strangely numb—
Dog, monkey, or kangaroo, cloaked in the haze,
It watches their rapture through the morning’s soft blaze.
In this vivid drawing, their love burns alive,
A canvas of passion where heartbeats connive.
The bus, a bold beacon, the stream’s crystal call,
Frame their forever in this blooming sprawl.
A tree, bright and tall
Hope deferred before the fall
Slowly but surely the call is dead
Look up! The sky bleeds red
How can this be? Obliviously and ignored
She closes her eyes and counts to four
The dark revealed in a blink of an eye
A shadow disappeared screaming, "she tried!"
Uncertainty is present for those who wait
Her question still lingers, "Is this my fate?"
Their backs against the wall as they connive
How can they stand against the divide?
With one last breath she ponders
For all these years, her heart wanders
A tree, faded and tall
Her voice was heard after all
There’s no substitute for life.
I find myself,
seduced by yearnings.
I’m flourishing here,
contemplating sin.
I’ve nothing to do
when I’ve nothing but time.
I’m reusing solitudes -
they’ve become ragged.
What’s the answer then?
Should I seal my girly heart,
engage in uncaring kisses
like it’s ‘casual friday’ -
connive brief excitements
- just to feel a pulse?
The world is changing in a profound way,
by the philosophy of fear and lies.
You can't trust a word politicians say;
they connive and editorialize.
And legislate laws that legitimize
corruption and greed for personal gain.
The tactics they employ to terrorize
are indispensable to hate's campaign.
Dictators strip democracy away
slowly, so folks don't even realize.
Tyrants interject God into the fray,
persecuting any who criticize.
The ignorant get taught to recognize
the poor and weak as the root of their pain.
Ways to demonize and rationalize
are indispensable to hate's campaign.
Potentates kill people who are born gay;
their fate is just something to televise.
Soulless, pretending to believe, they pray;
their belief is easy to synthesize.
Bigotry is quick to popularize
despite being cruel and inhumane.
The detention camps that militarize;
are indispensable to hate's campaign.
Fascism is set to materialize
and show its ugly face yet once again.
And propagandists that destabilize
are indispensable to hate's campaign.
The Atemporal Wall
Hidden away from the light of day
In cubbyholes and basement flats;
Are they who play computer games,
And stuff their faces with chocolates.
Here is where they snicker and connive
(While rambunctious fingers press the buttons)
On terrestrial earth, this side of the universe,
Of mice, keyboards, and controllers.
But when they crash into the wall of forever,
And dispersed matter becomes reality;
The power of the sun from which they run
Traps them into the quagmire of sobriety.
There is no tomorrow, they discover.
The atemperol wall blocks the future.
***
Note:
Atemperol (Merriam-Webster dictionary-adjective): independent of or unaffected by time; timeless.
I push and shove because you’re the only one I wanna love/
Out of all the birds in the sky above you’re my only lovely dove/
I don’t want to get high I just want you next to me we’ll fly/
I never want you to cry I just never want our relationship to run dry/
This kind of effort and care you can’t buy/
I can’t take one more lie as trust is the only way we’ll thrive/
So alive I am to provide for our tribe and for us to strive/
Had a horrific drive but God let me slide by to survive/
No longer out to connive and deprive/
Hopes to derive the best for our lives in my eye/
Focus on the prize to utilize and sanitize strife/
I’m sorry sometimes my words slice like a knife/
My head’s not right with some slights I’ve had in my life/
There’s a different spice I’ve revised with old throws of dice/
Less iced I’ve learned to become more accepting and nice/
It’s the right price if you heard my advice/
I never want to hold you down like a vice or grip too tight/
Just need you to walk with me through the night more into the light
Is life a fool's errand run with vague, haunting fears
too often it seems so with the passing of years
Every day we go at it, we strive and connive
in the hope of what? ~ just to feel we're alive?
I
Nations thrive, connive, destruct -- the birds still instil awe, naturally
II
Heretics and falsehood abound, but cows, even pigs, in town, reassure us of survival.
NOTE: In cities& towns in South Africa, the changes since Nelson Mandela's revolution, allows mainly black farmers & persons to let livestock roam towns for leftovers, rarely herding them.. Some eat plastic bags. Two are sleeping on the sidewalk, next to our only hotel, in Kerk Street, as I write/ edit
I will survive
Or I will die
I will connive
I will lie
I want to feel that drive
I want to be alive
I don't want to say goodbye
My mind is full of deprive
I ask God why
My goals have been rived
I want to thrive
I truly do try
My bad luck comes in fives
But I was not born to comply
I will survive
Time is smooth like a bird's chirp drew
Hazy but arranged, strength derive.
With asked waning, something might blew
Time is both blendings where zeal rive.
Hissing us all
With a sound fall.
Dread with dying, but given due
flight boundary briefs or contrive.
We wish for a quick and fair true
can't be found, but thrive to connive
Wings are worn out
To grasp, must doubt.
(Posie)
Checked by HMS.COM ( 8884-8884)
Written: June 01, 2022
Posie Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
The so-called Rubber Bullets are live
And are not to leave hit victims alive…
So, Shooting Time, do not ever drive
And ‘Spraying Hour’ you try to dive,
If really you wish to survive.
Better so than their penetration
Followed by a battle to self revive
Or on surgeries a concentration
To not your family a life deprive...
You go ahead to speedily dive
Like one certain that Death shall arrive
Because Satan you’d seen with Live Bullets connive
In time to stop trooping mourners, often a beehive;
At your residence busier than a bee
While awaiting calming whisky or hushing tea
But also your conveyance for a fee.
Happy is he who is not condemned,
By that which he allows in his life;
For he who adhears to the laws of God,
Will gain peace of mind and long life.
But he who is prone to go with the flow,
Will oft find himself perplexed,
By troubles and problems he could have avoided,
And often his spirit is vexed;
For the ways of the world are fickle, my friend,
And one must be wise to survive,
The slings and the arrows of enemies who hide,
In ambush where they sneak and connive,
To bring out in you what is found in them,
So choose your friends wisely and live.
Take from the world the good things in life,
And strain out the bad like a sieve.
Though we're not here to judge our neighbors and friends,
We have God Almighty to please.
Remember this well and you won't go to Hell,
If you lay down with dogs you'll get fleas.
The Lord is on our side; once again He’ll stem the tide.
Enemy onslaught will subside. The Lord is on our side.
Our God is here; we’ll survive. Are you swallowed up alive?
Have you foes who stalk? connive? Our God is here; we’ll survive.
God saved Noah on the ark. He healed the Hebrews in the dark.
God led Jonah to the shore. He guided Peter to the door.
God kept Daniel in the den. He rescued Paul from angry men.
God spared David in the fray. He taught disciples how to pray.
At all God’s vict’ries, stand in awe; on ev’ry front, our God, voila.
Watch Him thwart Satan’s coup d’etat, And praise Him, Jehovah Shammah.
January 17, 2022
At the fruit stand, in a box,
Were melons that, to me,
Were unfamiliar, not the
Ones I’m likelier to see.
No cantaloupes? No honeydews?
The fruit guy shook his head,
But pointed to the box which held
The green-skinned ones instead.
They weren’t watermelons, so
I asked what they were named.
The fruit man and his partner spoke
(Not English) and exclaimed:
“They’re called the sweetest melons.
You should try them – 2 for 5.”
I bought one (for 3 bucks) in hopes
That fruit men don’t connive.
I found it very strange, though,
That the produce in the cart
Goes by names the fruit men cannot
To their customers impart.
for all crime to cease
need to hire more police
so they will increase
as i am aging
year after year engaging
war against waging
up emotion built
while we had watched ourselves wilt
caused by greed and guilt
putin do deplore
has a head which seems so sore
dull and a big bore
was known to imbibe
how putin would you describe
evil and connive
has short fuse and stem
for world problems we blame him
while haughty and grim
had started to search
then God did give me a church
with tress oak and birch
even though may be brief
took a short sigh of relief
from the sin and grief
when God would consent
we always knew what he meant
that we should repent
Jim Horn
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